out mM wen ft ad veen Stttv/tmea / miee wad tt wen aedtiw/ea vu /tie. // 2 ATTEMPTED SUICIDE. able to speak, and continued to recover slowly. I was soon enabled to walk, and obtained liberty to go out of hospital, down upon the sea-shore, and at first, I had the Maltese assist me back to the hospital a number of times, being too weak to return. After I had recovered so as to go upon duty again, the Light Infantry received orders to go upon the opposite side of Malta, to take charge of a fort. While at the fort, a soldier belonging to Number Two Company had been drinking hard, and he took his firelock and loaded it, and going into a bowling alley that was near, tied a string to the trigger of the gun, and, placing the muzzle under his chin, was about to pull the string, when the sergeant went in, and knocking the man down, caught the gun as it dropped ; it went off and drove the ball into the ceiling. The soldier was taken up and carried to the hospital. We stopped in Malta about sixteen months, when an order was received for the 97th Regiment to go forthwith to Halifax, in the ship Java. We left in the fall of eighteen hundred and forty-eight, and arrived at Halifax in some fifty days ; and as we had thin clothing on, we suffered extremely from the cold. We went ashore and pitched our tents on the common, where we stopped three days and nights, part of the time it rained and hailed, and we had to dig small drains in our tents to carry off the water. The bottom of our tents was covered with straw, upon which we slept, until the regiment whom we were sent to relieve, went away, then we went into the barracks. Some of the soldiers and officers were so vexed by the treat- ment which they received that they ran away from the army. We had at that time the finest grenadier company that there was in the British army ; but many of these deserted. There were three full-sergeants and two color-sergeants that deserted. The three sergeants went away at one time, and a police-ser- geant that belonged to the 38th Regiment, volunteered to go after them. The sergeants, as we learned, were in a Scotch settlement, some distance from the army ; and the police-ser- geant, taking some other soldiers with him, went to this settle- PEOMOTION AND ITS DANGERS. 93 ment, and found the house where they stopped. Leaving his men upon the outside, he went into the house, and whilst in the lower part, one of the sergeants came down stairs. As soon as the police-sergeant saw him, he drew his pistol, and told him to stand, and that he was his prisoner in the Queen's name. But the other two sergeants came down, and one of them knocked the police-sergeant over, and took the brace of pistols away from him, and then they fought their way through the soldiers at the door, and escaped to the States. The sergeant got such a severe whipping that he was laid by for some time. Soon after our regiment arrived at Halifax, I was appointed corporal in the Light Infantry; this was a great misfortune to me, for it gave me greater liberty inside of the barracks, and plenty of drink outside; and I forgot the promise I had made God when I was sick, and plunged deeper into dissipation. I was ordered to mount the ' ordnance guard,' with some old sol- diers, and having been recently appointed, I was expected to stand treat for all hands. I told them I should not, for I had seen enough of the results of drinking when upon duty; but one of the soldiers said that all corporals treated when appoint- ed. I would not consent, but one of them brought a bottle of brandy, and soon another was brought, until some half a dozen bottles had been drank by the soldiers, and they got partially intoxicated. What to do, I could not tell! If the command- ing officer should see them in such a condition, they would be confined, and myself with them. I therefore \vent and brought a couple of pails of water, and threw this on them, but it did not sober them, and I then turned to, and gave them a pretty good thrashing, which sobered them in a great measure. When we went off from duty, the commanding officer inspected the guard, and they passed all right. I had charge of fifteen men, and one of these got a pass from the commanding officer to go out of the barracks and stop all night. His name was Thomas Wilkinson, and he and myself were boon companions, and used to have our times, generally, 94 ARREST AND A FIGHT. together. He was a hard drinker, and something of a fighting character. Wilkinson asked me to come out after tattoo, and I told him I would, if possible. After the roll was called, and when all the men were asleep in the barrack-room, I arose and dressed myself, and went down near the 4 Canteen,' and climbed over the fence, and went up where Wilkinson was, and there got something to drink. I stopped here a short time, and then went to a saloon, and while I was there drinking, a police-ser- geant (the same fellow that did not take the sergeants that deserted) came into the shop and asked me if I had a pass. I told him that it was none of his business, as he had nothing to do with the regiment that I belonged to. * If you do not tell me, I will call in my men at the door,' said the sergeant. * Well, call them in,' I said, and being in drink, I was not afraid to face them. The sergeant called in two men at the door, and they dragged me out of the shop into the street. As they arrived opposite where I left Wilkinson, I called out for him to come out, but he was too far gone to pay any attention to me. I had made up my mind not to be carried to barracks, and intended to get Wilkinson, and both of us I knew could have flogged the ser- geant and two men that he had with him, easily; but as he was not with me, I determined to do it alone. The sergeant was in the rear, and a man on each side of me, and I took an opportunity, when their attention was attracted in another direction, and gave the sergeant a blow under the chin that laid him flat upon his back. Then turning quickly, I knocked down one of the men at my side, and ran as fast as I could with the third one after me with a cane ; and, overtaking me, he knocked me down. I was up in a trice and off again, and escaped the fellow, and passed the sentry and got safe into bar- racks. I went to my room, and there I undressed and feigned sleep, for I supposed that I should have callers soon. The po- lice-sergeant went to the barracks and reported to the major- WAKING UP AND THE TRIAL. 95 sergeant that I was out of barracks, and they both went to the color-sergeant of the regiment that I belonged to, and, in com- pany with him, came to my room. The major-sergeant, coming to my cot, shook me and managed to awake me. I got up, and wiping my eyes, asked what the trouble was. * Oh, the rascal,' said the police-sergeant, and he swore that I had been out of barracks, and that he could bring proof of it. I awakened my men, and they all said that I went to bed when they did, but the police-sergeant being so positive, and still maintaining it, the sergeant-major said, 'Corporal Ambler, you may consider yourself under arrest,' and then the three left my room. If they had examined my clothes they would have found evidence enough against me, for they were covered with mud ; but in the excitement they forgot it. The next forenoon I was brought before the commanding officer, and the charge read against me of breaking out of bar- racks and assaulting an officer. I had borrowed a pair of pants and a coat, so that I appeared before the officer in pretty good shape. The sergeant-major had been up, before I was brought before the officer, to the place where I had been the night before, and there learned that I had been out of barracks. I was aware that he had been out, and I made up my mind to tell the whole story. I therefore told the commanding officer that I had been out and up to town, and perhaps took a drop, and while I was in a shop, the police-sergeant came in and asked me to show my pass. I told him that it was none of his business, which made him angry, and he told me that unless I showed my pass he would call in two men that he had at the door, and take me to the barracks. I consented to the arrangement, and he brought his two men in and they took me a prisoner, but that they did not carry me a prisoner to the barracks ; I went there alone, and went to bed and got asleep, and so sound that the sergeant-major could hardly wake me. At this point the ser- geant-major and color-sergeant were laughing, and the police- 93 JOKE ON THE POLICE-SERGEANT. sergeant, seeing that he was not likely to make much out of it, was going out, when the commanding officer said : 'When you attempt to bring prisoners to the barracks, re- member after this to bring them all the way.' This was a severe cut on the police-sergeant, as the incidents connected with the three sergeants that deserted, and that he did not bring back, were fresh in the memory of all present. He left the room, while those present smiled at the remark. The commander then turned and told me to go about my busi- ness, and not to be brought before him on any such charge again, for if I was I should certainly be punished. I faced to the right-about and went out of the room, finding at the door all my company waiting for me, expecting that I should get confused. As I came out I said, ' It's all right, boys,' upon which they gave a shout, and taking me upon their shoulders, carried me to my room. COOKING THE GOOSE. 97 CHAPTER XIV. THE soldiers used to have some good times when upon duty, and I remember that one night when I was placed with three men under me, upon the Magazine Guard (this was the furthest guard from barracks), one of the men asked me if we should have some rum ; but as I had seen the effects of it too often, I told him that I would not allow any to be brought. When soldiers set their minds on having rum, they will most always manage to get some, and one of the men said that if I would allow them to get some, that he would get a goose, and another said he would get some potatoes, and upon this I gave my con- sent. They went off and soon returned with their provisions, and we kindled a fire and baked our goose, and cooked our potatoes and drank our liquor, and had, in our opinion, a fine time. A soldier's life, although it is hard and dark, yet has some bright spots, which are like the oases in a desert. They serve to lighten the cares of a soldier's life, and cheer him in his la- borious and irksome duties. We would look back upon the little sprees and good times that we had with pleasure, as we sat in the barrack-room, and laid out our plans for the future. As I succeeded well as corpoi-al, and kept my men in good condition without being confined, the color-sergeant of the company asked me how I managed to get along so well ; and, in the course of our conversation, he said, ' There is one room with ten men in it, and some of them are confined about every night, and I want you to take charge of the room, and to com- mence to-day.' I went to my new quarters and told them that I was appoint- 7 H* REASON MORE POTENT THAN BLOWS. ed to take charge of the room, and that upon the commence- ment intended to have order. The first night I stood at the door of the barrack, and the first man that came in drunk I knocked down; the second was served the same; I thought that it could be stopped in this way, but I found that I was mistaken. The next night, in carrying my plans out, I got into a regular fight, and one of the men threw a piece of iron at me which just grazed my cheek and struck the wall, leaving its mark. After we got quieted down, I tiied to reason with them, and met with good success. I told them that I was the young- est of any of them, and that I had had before good success in taking care and keeping order in my room, and that now I was placed over them, as I had been so successful. I still fur- ther told them that my reputation and my honor were com- promised (for I had told the color-sergeant that I could keep order), and that I now appealed to them, as men of honor, to assist me. One old soldier, that had been in the army many years, said, ' I will give my word and honor that I will not get drunk again while you have charge of the room, and I will not speak to the soldier that does.' This encouraged me, and I thanked him, and from that day it was the best and most or- derly room in the barracks. I have ever since that time thought much of moral suasion and have found that man has a heart, and that it is never so hardened but that it is capable of receiving good impressions, and being touched by words of kindness. God has given ra- tional beings the power of reasoning, which is the greatest and most potent instrument thnt can be applied to man to bring him from vice and evil. A short time after this, I was chosen to go after a deserter to Pictou, some 120 miles distant, and two men were selected to go with me as an escort. Before we left, my orders were given me, and quarters were provided on the way. We started off with our knapsacks on our backs, and our arms with us. But passing a detachment of the 97th Regiment, we left our knap- SAFETY WHERE THERE IS PRAYER. 99 sacks, as they were so heavy and impeded our progress consid- erably, and then continued our way. The first day we marched about twenty miles and arrived at our billeting quarters, where we got something to eat and stopped that night. We only had two meals a day, one in the morning before we commenced our march for the day, and the other at night where we stopped. The next morning we continued our march, and went about the same distance that we did the day before, and arrived at our quarters. The third day it rained hard, but we had to travel twenty miles to our stopping-place ; here we all stood before a large fire, and dried ourselves the best we could. In conversa- tion with the landlord, I told him our next stopping-place. 'You must be careful there,' he said, 'the landlord of that place is a villain ; but a short time ago a pedlar was murdered there, and if you carry any money with you, you had better keep an eye on it.' I told him that I thought that we should not meet with any difficulty, but thanked him for his words of caution, and then we retired for the night. The next day we arrived at the tav- ern that the last keeper had cautioned me about, and met the landlord at the door. I was immediately struck with his pleas- ant appearance. As we went into the house, we saw his two daughters, and I thought to myself, surely this man can be no murderer. When night came I was shown to a room below stairs, while my two men were carried up-stairs ; this I thought looked suspicious, but I kept all the firelocks in my room, and told the men that if they heard an alarm to hurry down as soon as possible to my assistance. When I laid down for the night I put a firelock at my side ; but I could not sleep, my thoughts were running upon what the tavern-keeper had told me in re- gard to the man whose roof I was under. As I lay there, I heard some one approaching my room who seemed to stop at my door. I seized my firelock, and as I was accustomed to challenge when upon sentry, I cried out, 'who comes there?' I received no answer, and as I heard no more noise I laid down 100 THE ATTACK ON THE ROAD. again upon my bed, but as I was still listening, I heard voices. I arose and went to the door and listened ; it was the voice of the landlord in prayer; and as he concluded, the daughters fol- lowed, and they concluded by singing a hymn. I felt more se- cure after hearing those prayers than I did with my guns by my side, and I threw aside my firelocks, and laid down and slept sweetly. The next morning we tried to get some rum of the landlord, but we were not successful (we had got it every morning before), and we had to leave without it. We had traveled some five or six miles when I befyan to feel o faint and hungry, and I told my men to keep on whilst I went into a cabin by the side of the road, and got something to eat. I had been so used to my rum that I could not get along with- out it. I went into the cabin where there was an elderly lady and her sick daughter that was near death, and I asked her if she would get me something to eat. She brought me a cup of coffee and a buckwheat cake, which tasted good to me ; after eating I offered the woman some money, but she would not take it, and thanking her, I left the cabin to overtake my men, but they were some distance before me. As I was hurrying through a piece of woods to overtake them, a man jumped out from the bushes before me with a bayonet in his hand, and approached me in a threatening manner. I presented my bayonet and made a rush toward him, upon which he turned and took to his heels, and jumping over a ditch by the side of the road, he dropped the bayonet out of his hand. I crossed the ditch and picked it up, and continued on my way, and soon came up with my men, and showed them my bayonet that I had captured in my attack upon the man who had assaulted me. We continued on our way, and arrived at our place for re- freshment and there I showed the bayonet, and the keeper said that he had had two horses stolen from him, and that a number of the families around had lost some articles. We immediate- ly gathered some of the neighbors, and started off in pursuit of the robber. The next day we came to a village about twenty TUE SMASH UP. 101 miles from my place of destination, and found my quarters and had something to eat, and then I went with my men into the bar-room. Whilst there a number of young men came in, and we had a pretty merry time. One young man, of about my size, wished me to exchange my military clothes for his, and then for me to go with him to his father's house, which was about three miles from the tavern. I was ready for any kind of sport, and therefore willingly complied with the request, and we went into an adjoining room and exchanged clothes, and, going out, we got into a carriage which the young man had there, and started for his house. We had both taken too much liquor to navigate a horse well, and at the first start had some narrow escapes. We had gone about a mile, when we came into a clearing, where the road was not easily discernible. We were going about twelve knots an hour when the chaise all at once sunk into a ditch, and stopping sud- denly, I was thrown forward on to the horse's back. The horse breaking away, and jumping at the same time, somewhat dis- turbed my equilibrium, and I fell into the mud, while he went off at full speed. In a short time I came to myself, when hear- ing a noise near me, I thought I was on sentry, and cried out, ' Who comes there ? ' ' Why, don't you know me ? ' said my companion. ' I don't think that you would know me] I said, ' for I am in the mud, and my, or I would say your clothes are pretty well daubed. But where are you?' ' Well, I am in the mud too, and I believe that I have broken my wrist.' 'Well, I profess to be something of a doctor, if you will just come and pull me out, I will see to your wrist.' 1 was begin- ning to get pretty sober, as the cold mud and water had a won- derful influence on me. 'I am out,' said my companion, and coming to where I lay, he took hold of my hand and pulled me out. One glance at my military clothes showed me that they were ON A LARK. none the better for this night's excursion, and I saw a number of places torn, but I consoled myself with the thought that there were none here to inspect them. After brushing off the mud, we started for our horse, but not finding him, we contin- ued on our way. We soon arrived at the young man's house, and found that the horse had arrived all right. My companion went up to the door and knocked. The door was opened by his father, when he said, ' Can you accommodate two poor sol- diers here to-night?' The old gentleman said that he did not think that he could, and was just pushing the door to, when the young man said, ' I have no place to sleep to-night, and it is rainy, and I should like to sleep on the floor,' upon which the old man opened the door wide, and we went into a room where the young man's mother Avas, who eyed us rather narrowly, and then turned to her son who had on my clothes, and ex- claimed, 'My son,' and fainted. She soon came to, and I was treated finely by the old people, and then started to go back, the young man showing me the way. The next morning we resumed our march and soon arrived at Pictou, and went to the jail and found the prisoner there. As it was night, and I had an order on a tavern for refresh- ments and lodgings, I left the jail with my men, and put up. FASTENED TO THE PRISONER. 103 CHAPTER XV. THE next morning we went to the jail and saw the sergeant, who gave the prisoner into my hands, saying, 'Here is a desert- er from the army ; by orders that I have received, I give him over into your hands.' I took the prisoner and put on the handcuff's, and started for Halifax. After going about a mile, I told the prisoner that if he would give me his word not to attempt to escape, I would take the handcuffs off. He replied that he would not give me any trouble, and I took them off. That day we stopped at the place that we had been billeted to, and I was troubled how to take care of my prisoner. I felt that 1 had something at stake, and thought that it was of as much importance as if I had a thousand to look after. After much reflection upon the subject, I thought of a plan; I there- fore slept with the prisoner, and had my left han 1 handcuffed to his right one, feeling pretty confident that my prisoner could not get away without my knowing something about it. I think that this way of securing a prisoner was original, but I would not recommend it, especially if a person wishes to sleep much. Every time the prisoner turned, it would cut my wrist, and every time I turned, it would cause the prisoner to cry out, and vice versa. To say that I felt as tired in the morning as I did the night before, would convey no idea of my condi- tion. If I had been three days and nights upon a forced inarch, without closing my eyes to sleep, I could not have felt worse, and I thought that the next time I took a prisoner, I would let him go before I would torture myself ns I did that night. The next morning we resumed our march and arrived with- out any adventures to our quarters, where we stopped for the night. The next day was the Sabbath, and I made up my 104 THE ATTEMPTED ESCAPE. mind to stop at this place during the day. I therefore had my prisoner lodged in jail, telling the keeper at the same time that I should look to him for his 8*afe keeping, an:l then went to church. After meeting I went to the jail, as I felt somewhat anxious, as some prisoners had made their escape from the jail where I had put my man. I found all right, but the mnn wished to come out and walk around some, he said, so I told the jailer to let him out, and I presented bayonet, and the prisoner marched before. We had gone some fifty yards, and had got out of the main streets, when the prisoner turned around rather fierce at me, and started to run. I cocked my firelock, and sung out for him to stop, or he was a dead man, which he quick- ly did, and coming up with him, I told him to 'right about face,' and marched for the jail. After giving him into the hands of the jailer, I went to the tavern, and found that my two men were drinking in the bar-room with two deserters that were there, and they agreed among themselves to rob and kill me, and then to leave with the money, as I had some little with me. One of my men that was with me was an old soldier that had been in the army fourteen years, and he thought to himself, that in seven years more he would receive a pension for life, and he therefore determined to have nothing to do in the affair, and came and told me the whole story. One of these deserters was the same man that took care of me when I was sick in the hospital, and took my Spanish dollar and exchanged boots with me, and I can assure you that I had no very friendly feelings toward him at that time. I told my escort, or the one that in- formed me of the plot, that he had better appear the same as if nothing had been said about it, and when they came to my room I would be ready for them. This conversation was in the bar-room, and seeing one of the deserters coming in, my escort stepped out of the way. As he came in, a thought struck me, and I spoke to him and said, ' Did you not see two escorts who are in the village in search of you and your companion ? now, take my advice, and leave as quick as possible, or you will be A COMICAL POSITION ON GUARD. 1Q5 taken.' He turned pale as I was telling him about the escort, and left immediately, and I have never seen either of them since. The next morning I commenced my march, and reached Hal- ifax after being absent sixteen days, fourteen of which, if I am riot mistaken, it rained. I lo;lged my prisoner in jail, and he was kept there six months, and was then sent to England, where he was confined in prison about three months, and was then liberated, and went to America. The next guard that I mounted was over the prisoners. The sergeant-major picked me out for this guard, as he said, because it was an easy one, I having just returned from a hard march. I had to go on guard at four o'clock in the afternoon, and stop till eight o'clock, and all this time I was not allowed to speak aloud or laugh. I had to sit on a seat erected on one side of the room, and on this seat I could look over all the prisoners. On the opposite side was the provost-sergeant, who had charge of the prisoners. When I went into the room where the pris- oners were, all in rows, I noticed many that I knew, and had been with many times on a spree ; and as the prisoners were not allowed to speak, those that knew me began to make signs. I went up and took my seat, but it seemed a strange place for me. All the prisoners were facing me, and one, a drummer, a comic and mimicking fellow, looked very sober at me all the while. Those around him began to smile, and I began now to comprehend his meaning. The fellow was pretending that I was a preacher. I burst out into a loud laugh, in which all the prisoners joined, which astonished the provost-sergeant, and he said that he would report me to the commanding officer. One of the prisoners now spoke and said that the provost-ser- geant had no right to speak, and general confusion ensued. This guard was the hardest one I ever had. The next guard I went upon was the citadel guard. Previ- ous to my mounting this, an officer belonging to the Scotch highlanders brought in thirty-six deserters, who were trans- ported, and put in the dry-room, a place where criminals were 106 GETTING FAST IN THE GRATES. kept. The building was of granite, and the windows were se- cured by strong iron bars, to prevent the prisoners escaping. A sergeant went every two hours through the room where the prisoners were, and with a piece of iron would let it strike against the bars as he passed, to see if any of them had been sawed into. One of the prisoners, during the intervals of the sergeant's visits, sawed a bar of iron off, and made a passage large enough to admit a person, and through this quite a num- ber escaped. One large man in endeavoring to get through, got wedged in, so that he could not get back, and the other prison- ers finding they could not get him out, informed the sentry, who gave the alarm, and soon the whole guard turned out, and open- ing the door of the dry-room, saw the man fast in the window. We pulled him back, but I certainly thought it would kill him, and then started in pursuit of those that had escaped. We were not successful, and although detachments were sent throughout the surrounding country, we never heard from them. How they escaped out of the fortress we never knew, for after getting out of the window, they had to drop some ten feet to the ground, and then they were inside of a granite wall some ten feet high; this they managed to scale, and thus effected their escape. There was a place called ' Waterloo Tavern,' kept by a man named Murphy ; it was a low, miserable place, and one night a man belonging to the sappers and miners went to this place, and having considerable money about him, was murdered and thrown into a well. A short time after, his body was found there, and so enraged were the sappers and miners that they determined to have their revenge. They commenced to lay a train of pow- der a number of yards distant, and extended it to the tavern* They were some time in accomplishing the undertaking, and one dark night they ignited the powder, an;l instantly an ex- plosion took place, and the building was at once enveloped in flames. The bugler gave the alarm of fire, and the engines were hurried out, and great exertions were pretended to be made to subdue the flames, but it was burnt down, together with some persons in the building. A DESERTER'S STRATEGY. 1Q7 CHAPTER XVI. IN our company there was a sergeant named Pullinger. He was a smart, shrewd man, and had a good education. He was the color sergeant, and was intrusted with a considerable amount of money, being considered a very honest man. He and a man named Smith were determined to leave the army. Before leaving, the sergeant bought himself a splendid suit of clothes, and a footman's suit for Smith ; and watching an op- portunity, made their escape, the sergeant taking considerable money that was intrusted to him. They passed off on the road as gentleman and servant, and a number of detachments of sol- diers who were in pursuit of them, passed them on the road, but as the sergeant was dressed finely, they did not dare to say anything to him, although they saw that he was about the same height as one of the deserters. They came one day to a guard, and Smith, the footman, was ahead; the guard stopped him and began to inspect him, when he told them that his master was a few steps behind, and that he would settle with them for stopping his servant; and 'upon this they let him go. The sergeant soon came along and they stopped him, but he told them that he would report their pro- ceedings to the commander for stopping a gentleman on the road, and wished to know if they intended to insult him so much as to stop him upon the pretense that he was a deserter. He Avould have them to know that he was a gentleman, and that he would make them smart for their behavior. And feel- ing somewhat ashamed, the soldiers let him ofi^ and with his footman he escaped to the States ; and now lives in the State of New York. 108 BRAVERY HONORED BY THE QUEEN. There was a sergeant in the 7th Regiment, a very strong and courageous man, named E . I well remember receiving some pretty severe threshings from his hands, although not so large a man as I was. He was a great drinker, and sometimes would come up into our mess and get so drunk, that we would have to carry him to his quarters. In the Russian war, the ser- geant was on the field of battle, and fell, pierced with nine balls, and left on the field for dead. He came to, and getting up, took a firelock that was near, and, loading it, walked up to the enemy's position where there was a sentry on guard over three prisoners; he fired and shot the sentry, and the prisoners escaped. They went toward their quarters, and while going, a field-piece was fired at them ; the ball grazed the sergeant's foot, taking the sole of his boot completely off. When he ar- rived at his quarters the balls were extracted, and he was soon after sent to England with a pension. The Queen and her maids of honor received him, her Majes- ty making some remarks, and, speaking of his brave conduct, offered him a home in England, or he might go to Halifax where his wife was, and make his home there. The se r geant, thinking that there was no place like 'sweet home,' went to Halifax, and as he left, one of the maids of honor walked arm in arm with him to the place of embarkation, where the Queen presented him with a white silk handkerchief, saying, ' that it was hemmed with her own hands,' and was given to him as a mark of her esteem for his bravery. We remained in Halifax about twelve months, and then were ordered to St. John, New Brunswick. We immediately went and took our respective quarters. Soon after we came to St. John I was appointed sergeant; this was another bad thing for me, it gave me still greater liberties. I went in company with the sergeants, who were all drinking fellows, and I had the privilege of drinking to the greatest excess. I had been here but a short time, when one evening as I was walking down one of the streets, I saw in a window on the opposite side, three FIRST INTERVIEW WITH MY WIFE. 1Q9 young ladies, who, upon seeing me, looked up, and one of them said, 'Look at that nigger soldier.' On hearing this remark, I felt vexed. It did not surprise me, however, for I had burnt my face so badly whilst in the warm climate, that I was almost black. I thought to myself that I would many the one that made the remark about me. The young woman who had spoken thus, was the daughter of a lady that lived in great style and moved in the first circles, and how to get acquainted with her was now the question. I knew a soldier in the guard-room that could write, and I told him that I wanted him to write me a letter, which he accord- ingly did, and I sent it. I received an answer the next day that checked my ardor a little. It read thus, * How dare you, sir, have the presumption to address me a note ? ' Short and sweet, yet I determined to persevere in my suit, and get acquainted with her. Passing her house one day, I saw her in the garden, and went around to the back side of the house, and walked softly up be- hind her as she was picking off a rose. She heard my step, and, turning around, was upon the point of hurrying off to the house, when I said, 'Madam, you will excuse my presumption, (I never heard the word before I heard it read in the letter that the young lady sent me, but I thought that I must bring out every thing that I could, in my opening speech ; I had got it ajl by heart to deliver some time before I met her in the garden,) in entering your garden so unceremoniously, but the beauty of your flowers attracted my attention, and I hope you will excuse my boldness.' She pardoned me, and showed me around the garden, and soon after I left, feeling well pleased with my suc- cess. While at St. John, I was appointed caterer of the sergeant's mess, and to sell rum to the soldiers. This berth gave me a pretty good opportunity to drink as much as I pleased. I drank up all my pay, and all my profits on the liquor, and was very dissipated whilst I held that berth. We used to play cards HO ROW WITH THE SERVANT. when not on duty, and one night one of the officer's servants came in to play, and we all drank very hard. The servant made a mis-play, and I told him of it, which made him angry, and he reached across the table and struck me in the face. I had drank so much liquor that I was under its influence considerably, and this enraged me. I jumped up and put the light out, and cleared the room of all excepting the servant ; and now I was determined to give him a threshing. He grabbed me by the hair with one hand, and with the other he had me by the throat. In endeavoring to free myself from his grasp, I left a large portion of my hair in his hand. Then I was at liberty, and springing toward him, I seized him, and hurrying to the door which was open, I was just upon the point of pitching him headlong over the verandah, down some twelve foot to the pavement below, when I was arrested by one of the company. When I got sobered down a little, I felt extremely glad that I was stopped from doing an act whereby I have no doubt I should have taken human life, or been the means of it. The next morning I was awakened in ray cot by a tap on the shoulder. I knew what it meant well ; when a soldier has been insulted, and wishes satisfaction, he goes early in the morning and taps the person on the shoulder who has insulted him as a signal to get up and go fight it out. The instant I felt the touch, I was awake and knew what was wanted ; he was the one that I shoved out of the room the night before. I tapped my chum, Tim Wilkinson, upon the shoulder, and asked him to go with me, and he arose, and we went out. 'How much is this for?' said I. 'For a quart,' replied the sergeant. (The first one that received a clip in the f ice, would have to pay for a quart of rum.) I gave him the first clip, and thus wounded honor was appeased, and the satisfaction deemed complete, and he paid the liquor and all was settled ; and to tell the truth I felt well pleased to get off so well, for he was a powerful man, and a superior boxer, and would have been likely to have laid me on the ground, if he had struck me. THE ORANGEMEN. lit Such scenes as these were very common with us whilst I was caterer for the mess ; and many were the skirmishes we had. I was once sent with a company to take charge of the maga- zine at Fort Howe, Portland, St. Johns. We had a room up-stairs where we used to play cards, and many of the citizens used to come and .play with the soldiers, bringing liquor with them, and they would sometimes get drunk, and quarrel with one another. One fellow who came there had lost both legs above the knees, and he used to get drunk every time he came. One night I went with him to his home, as he was so intoxicated that he could not go alone, and, in returning to my quarters, the police stepped up to arrest me (thinking that I was a drunken soldier, as they had just ar- rested some), but I turned and made fight, knocking down the one that had seized me. and escaped to my barracks. One of my soldiers, soon after my escape from the police, told me that he saw a soldier of Number Two Company in a rum-shop in citizen's dress, and that he intended to desert, and if I did not arrest and confine him, he would report me to the commanding officer. I went down to the shop where the sol- dier was, and went in and seized him, and told him that he was my prisoner in the Queen's name, and with some considerable difficulty dragged him into a back room, and then called upon the keeper to watch him whilst I went after some of my men. I soon got them, and then carried him to the main guard, where he was confined. About this time the Orangemen in the prov- ince were making great demonstrations, and there was a good deal of ill-feeling between them and the Irish Catholics. The Irish citizens had a large banner flying in town, at the foot of the hill on which Fort Howe was located. The Orangemen formed in line, and the leader representing King William dashed along on his high-mettled charger, and, drawing his sword, cleft down the flag. The Irish Catholics immediately commenced firing upon them, wounding and killing a number. The Orangemen retreated to their head-quarters, and, arming 112 ATTEMPT TO BURN A CATHOLIC CHURCH. themselves, returned and fired upon them indiscriminately, some of them pitching headlong into the streets from the win- dows where they stood watching the advancing column. The havoc was fearful on both sides. The infantry and artillery were called out, and charged upon both parties and drove them off. The Orangemen determined to burn the Catholic church; and the priest getting wind of it, came to me and told me the night they had fixed upon for destroying his church, and begged me to prevent it. I told him if the church was fired it would blow up my magazine, and I would lose every man before it should be done. He seized me by the hand and said he could trust me. I immediately placed a sentry at the church, and notified my men what would be attempted after I had received grand rounds, and the guard had turned in. And here it may interest some to explain what is meant by 'grand rounds.' A field-officer comes. The sentry challenges. The officer an- swers, Grand rounds. Sentry replies, Stand grand rounds, and calls guard, turn out. The sergeant falls in the guard, then takes two men as escort and marches up in front of grand rounds, ports arms, and says, Who comes there? Officer an- swers, Mounds. Sergeant says, What rounds/ Officer answers, Graii c? rounds. Sergeant says, Stand grand rounds advance one, and give the countersign. The sergeant receives the coun- tersign at the point of the bayonet, in a low tone. Sergeant answers, All right, and orders the guard to present arms. Offi- cer asks, ' Is guard all right ? ' Answer, 'All right, sir.' The officer then says, Turn guard in. The sergeant then orders, Guard, shoulder amis, right face; longe arms a term used for dis- missed. Soon after having received grand rounds, as explained, there was seen a crowd of men slowly winding their way along a narrow defile at the foot of the hill. My sentry challenged, 'Who comes there?' No answer. We were on the watch for them. Sentry said, 'All's not right.' I took two men, advanced and challenged, and no answer. I did so three times. I called SECURED A FRIEND. 113 my men, Face to the right about, double march to the rear. I then ordered them to fall in with the front section, and gave the word, Forward men by your right prepare to charge charge bayonets, and my men, on the double quick, drove the poor fellows pell-mell down the hill like frightened sheep. This act, Avhich saved the church from being burned, secured for me the good-will of the priest, which was turned to a good account afterward, as will appear in my escape from the British army. I was ordered to stop at this magazine one month, and as the time had now expired, I returned to the barracks. 8 114 SEPARATING THE BELLIGERANT3. CHAPTER XVII. THERE was in the company to which I belonged, a sergeant named Smith, who one night broke out of barracks, and on the same night, unknown to him, a private broke out. They met in a rum-shop, and getting into difficulty, came to hard words. The sergeant left the shop, and the private followed, and over- taking him, they got to fighting, and as this was near the main guard, the sentry gave the alarm, and as I was on guard at the time, I ran to the place, and seizing the sergeant, separated them. The private, taking a bottle from his pocket, was in the act of striking me, when I gave him a blow which knocked him down. This sergeant had always favored me when I got into any scrapes, and he told me to bear in mind how he had always befriended me. I told him that I would get him out all right, and delivered the private into his hands, and told him to keep him, and I would get some men and take him to the guard-room. I soon brought a file of men, and took the private, and carried him to the guard-room. The next day he was brought before the commanding officer. He said that the sergeant had also broken out of barracks. * We are not here to try sergeant Smith, but to try you,' said the commanding officer; and he was ordered to be put into the cells for seven days. Soon after this affair, the same sergeant, who was a good friend to me, was on guard, and I wished to go out of barracks, and he gave me :i permit ; but on returning in the morning, as I was climbing over the fence, to get into barracks, the sentry saw me, and as he was the same soldier that was out with the sergeant, and whom I had taken prisoner, he gave the alarm ; WHY I RESOLVED TO DESERT. but before the guard came out, I was in my room. Two ser- geants came into my room, and finding me there, said that the sentry had reported me out of barracks. The next day I was brought before the commanding officer, and as the sentry brought no proof against me, he failed to make out his case. I ordered him to be confined for telling a falsehood, and he got seven days more in the cells. I was taken sick about this time, and was confined to the hos- pital about three weeks, before I was able to be upon duty again. This sickness was owing in a great measure to the dis- solute life I led. One night I wanted to go out of barracks, and the sergeant agreed not to inform against me, and I went out, but had not been gone long, before he reported that I had broken out of barracks. An escort was sent after me, and I was taken back a prisoner, and the next day brought before the commanding officer, who ordered that one of my badges be taken from my coat. I felt this more than I should if I had been cowhided, and I got a soldier to write to my ' intended,' and inform her of the circumstances. She wrote me an encouraging answer, but I could not bear to be thus disgraced, and I determined to take advantage of the first opportunity to make my escape. I got the young soldier to write to my * intended,' informing her of my intention to escape from the army. The young soldier was one that I could trust we were firm friends. I received an answer, advising me not to make the venture, as she would soon, if I wished it, purchase my discharge; but I would not think of such a thing. I had seen enough of the army, and when sober, how to escape was always uppermost in my thoughts. I was encouraged by an incident that happened about this time ; three men who deserted and went into the woods were surrounded, or rather every place where the deserters wished to come out was guarded. After remaining there some six days, being nearly exhausted with hunger, they came out and gave themselves up to a kidnapper, as the soldiers termed him, 116 THE KIDNAPPER GETTING WHIPPED. (one who caught deserters and returned them to barracks). He gave them something to eat, and then secured them that night. The next morning he tied their hands together, and taking them into a wagon, started for the barracks. One of the prisoners got his hands loose as they were riding along, and untied the prisoners near him, and then knocked the kidnapper off his seat into the road, while another prisoner seized the reins. The kid- napper drew his pistols, but before he could use them, he was seized by two of the deserters and bound. They tied him to a tree, and gave him two dozen lashes with the whip, and then getting into the wagon, rode into the States. They then got out of the wagon, and started the horse toward his home. Some person liberated the kidnapper, and I was upon sentry when he came into the barracks and told his story, but he did not receive much consolation from the soldiers, who only laughed at his misfortunes, and wished that he might get another whip- ping. Monday, the regiment was ordered to Halifax. At twelve o'clock M., I came off guard and went to dinner, and then I told Tim Wilkinson, my chum, that I intended to escape, and gave him the key to my chest and all my things, and told him to keep silent about it. In a short time the orderly came to in- spect the dinner, and I knew that now was my best time, as all the men were at dinner, so I went out of my room into the yard. There was a high fence with iron spikes in the top (the fence was eight feet high), and springing up, I got hold with my hands and drew myself up and jumped over. Here I had to get over a wooden picket fence, which I did somewhat in a hurry, and hastened to see my ' intended.' I arrived at the house, and told her that I had left the barracks for good. The mother of the young lady (her father being dead) seemed much pleased with my endeavoring to make my escape, and I have no doubt wished that I would get off so far that I would never trouble her daugh- ter again, and made me up a bundle of clothes, and gave me a sovereign, and wished me good luck. I told her that I was SHOWING THEM A TBICK. H7 afraid to go through the streets with a bundle in my hand, and asked her if she would not let her daughter go to Portland, about one and a half miles distant, and carry my bundle forme. After some time, I prevailed on her to let her daughter carry it, and we started off, her daughter going some ten yards before me. We had gone but a short distance before she turned toward me, and said, 'There's a picket of soldiers coming this way, and they are after you.' They had been to Portland, St. John, but not finding me there, were returning. I looked up, and saw them on the top of a little hill, not more than fifty yards distant. ' What will you do ? ' said my intended, * you will have to give yourself up.' 'No,' I said, 'I will show them a trick.' There were two streets at my left, that ran nearly parallel, and led down to the sea-side, which were about one hundred feet apart. I started to run down the one that was nearest to me, and the picket of soldiers started down the other ; seeing them go down the other street, I turned back, and came up with my 'intended,' and kept on for Portland. As I passed the street, I could not help laughing to see them run down the street in pursuit of me. I arrived at Portland without any trouble, and went to see a man that I knew would help me. I found him, and he told me that he would assist me in every way he could. 118 HOW I GOT MAEEIED. CHAPTER XVIII. BEFORE I left Portland, I wanted to get married, and I had tried to get a license at the Register's office, but could not without the consent of my commanding officer. I went out, and fell in with two Irishmen, and asked them to go to the Register's office and get a license in my name. They succeeded in getting it, and I hurried back to where I left my 'intended,' and with her I went to a Methodist clergyman and was mar- ried, and giving my marriage certificate to my newly made wife, I bade her adieu, and left for the man with whom I had stopped. I exchanged clothes and gave him my military suit, and when it was dark, started off. In the mean time the regiment had started for Halifax, but had left a number of men, who, with the police, were searching the country around for me. Before going into the woods I went to a Scotchman's house and asked for something to eat, but was refused, and I went on until I came to a house where an Irishman lived, who gave me two potatoes and a piece of fish. I told him that I had just come from the house below. * Well, that fellow will inform against you,' he said, knowing that I had escaped from the army ; and, taking out a gun, * Here,' said he, ' take this to de- fend yourself, and I will run the risk of your returning it.' I took the gun, promising to return it if I lived, and, thanking him, left the house and went into the forest. It was about 12 o'clock at night when I entered the woods, and although darkness covered the earth, it seemed all bright to me. I was now my own man, and felt like singing, but I BIDING IN THE WOODS. 119 had to keep silence here, knowing soldiers were stationed all around the forest. Having found a place to lie down, I slept well, and when I awoke the sun was high in the heavens. In my haste to make my escape, I never once thought of taking any provisions with me, but it was in the fall of the year, when berries were ripe, or else I must have perished or given myself up. I found berries enough, and managed the first day to get a good living, and made up my mind to stay in the woods as long as I could. The second night I slept on the watch, knowing that not a man of the company would come near to take me in the day- time, but fearing they might see and watch me until night came on, and after I was asleep, seize me. I did not get much sleep; every noise I heard aroused me, and I would jump up and pre- sent my gun at what I imagined was a man. The second day I picked some more berries, but found that they did not satisfy my cravings. I had been used to liquor every day, and to be deprived of it now was as bad to me as taking away my bread, and I hardly know which I missed the most. I wandered around all the first part of the day, and as the sun began to sink in the heavens, I thonght I would try my luck and see if I could not get out safely. I had taken partic- ular notice of the woods and the lay of the land, so that I could find my way out, and, taking ray course, started to go back. I walked quite briskly for about half an hour, and began to think that it was time for me to get out of the forest ; but I kept on some time. I had no idea that I had gone so far into the woods, but after walking some distance further, I could see the open fields. I went along now cautiously, looking upon all sides to see if any one was near; but not seeing any person, I went out into a field. Finding myself not far from the place where I entered the woods, I crossed the field to the road, and as I got near it I saw two men coming. I thought if I went back across the field they would surely see me, so I laid down beside the fence, 120 NARROW ESCAPE. and as they came along I heard one say, * He will be shrewd enough not to fall into their hands, I'll warrant you.' * But,' says the other, ' how can he get out ? the places are all guarded, and he cannot help being taken ' and here I could not un- derstand what was said. Well, I thought to myself, my chance is a hard one, and get- ting up, I looked about me and saw a wagon coming. I must keep still at present, or I shall be taken. What a fool, I said to myself, am I for coming out here in open day. I might have known better, if I had stopped to consider, than to leave the woods. I waited until the wagon had passed, and then thought I would make for the forest, but I saw another wagon coming, and I was kept there until night, when I returned to the forest, feeling thankful that it once more afforded me a secure retreat. I managed to get some berries, which partially satisfied my craving for food, and having selected a place to rest, I broke off some twigs, and spreading them around, I laid down to sleep. I staid in this wood just one week, when I made up my mind to get out and go down where my wife lived and get something to eat, and run the risk of being taken, as I was almost starved. I went to the edge of the wood, and when it was dark took a back route, and went down to what was called ' Lower Cove,' and as I was going through the streets I met two of the ser- geants. They knew me the moment they saw me, and I start- ed on a run, into my wife's uncle's house, the sergeants after me. I ran out of the back door, down to where my wife lived, and went into the house and got something to eat and a cup of tea, and bidding my wife good-by, I hurried out of the house, telling her that I would see her again before long. I went down the street (it being dark and the soldiers after me) upon all-fours, like a dog, until I came to the sea-side, and keeping near the water's edge, walked along until I came to a high cliff. I swam around the several cliffs, near a mile, until I came to Marsh Bridge, and dragged myself upon dry land, GETTING AWAY FROM THE INDIANS. 121 chilled and exhausted; and here I was a little bewildered, and crossed the bridge, taking my right-hand road instead of the the left, as I should have done, before I went over. I trudged on in the dark until I was suddenly seized by some Indians and taken prisoner by them to their encampment. The English were at this time paying the Indians five pounds per man for every deserter they could bring in. Of course the red-skins were fast friends to us lonely wanderers, and were ready to take us in. I was made to lie down between two strong fellows, for the night, to sleep if I could. One thing was sure, if I did not sleep, I played sleep to the best of my abili- ty. The Indians had been out on a hunt during the day, and being pretty tired, were not long in getting to noddle's island ; of which I was notified by their loud snoring. Generally speak- ing, snoring was very offensive to me ; but I must confess, un- der the peculiar state of things, no music was so sweet as that made by the snouts of these red men. And I said inwardly, blow your nasal organs louder and longer, and keep doing so until distance lends enchantment. I arose, first on one knee, and then on the other; and, look- ing round, I saw a stick of wood against the door, with which I thought I would brain the rascals ; but wisely decided their blood should not be on my head if I could get off without it. I finally succeeded in getting outside the wigwam without wak- ing my captives, and escaped, by the way I came, down to Marsh biidge ; and crossing, got upon the right road, and un- der cover of night, made my way rapidly up the river, into the woods to the house of two Catholics, who had been made my true friends by my charge on the Orangemen and saving their church. These two men promised to help me escape down the St. John river, in a small boat, to the steamer ' Maid of Erin ; ' ly- ing at St. John, and bound for the States. A hiding-place was prepared for me in the woods, where I had to remain several days, coming out occasionally to get something to eat. One 122 REACHING THE STATES. morning, about three o'clock, these faithful fellows came and took me down to the steamer, where I was stowed down in the coal-hole. The priest who came to me at Fort Howe to save his chnpcl, had enjoined upon these men to save me from be- ing retaken, under the penalty of being anathematized by the church, if they were not f.iithful to their trust. On reaching the steamer, they told the man who knew of my coming on board, if he informed against me it would not be safe for him to ap- pear in St. John again. I kneAV that before the steamer sailed officers would be on board to search for deserters, so I dug down into the coal, covering myself entirely with it, until the officers had made their search and left. After the steamer had got under way, I showed myself on deck, and the ticket master coming along, wanted my fare, which was two dollars. Having but one dollar, I got the helms- man to lend me another, and told him that my wife would pay him. I intended to get out at Eastport, but as there was a severe storm, the boat could not land, and I went to Portland, Maine. When the boat touched the wharf I jumped out, and asked the captain if I was on ' Yankee land ? ' ' Yes,' says the captain, staring at me, as I jumped \ip and gave three cheers, 'but are you Sergeant Ambler ? ' ' That's my name,' I said. The cap- tain turned and went below. Now I felt that I was free, and, turning around, hardly knew what to do, I felt so happy; it had been so long since I had en- joyed freedom, that I was like a bird let out of a cage. I felt that I was in a new world ; the great country that I had heard of from my youth up, and for which I had sighed when in the lonely hours of night I kept rny sentry watch, or when beneath a scorching sun I marched many a weary mile, was now before me. This free country (of which so many songs were heard around the tap-room bar, as we would quaff the ale, and jovially pass the time away) I had now reached. As I stood upon the wharf, what prospects seemed to be be- GENERAL SOLILOQUY. fore me ! Everything looked beautiful, and I thought that at last I had reached a land where I could enjoy life. No more court-martials to be tried before, no more shall I be brought before commanding officers, to answer to charges brought against me. And above all these, I thought, no more liquor to take away my reason, and make me incapable of performing the duties incumbent upon me. No more restraints upon my ac- tions, I can now live as I choose, and go where I wish. Had I been permitted to look into the future, I should have shuddered at the gloomy wretched prospect before me, and should have turned with disgust from the country that looked so beautiful, and returned to the army. How thankful should we be that the future, with its weal or woe, cannot be revealed to us. I thought that I stood in the same position that the Pilgrim fathers did. They left their native land for this country, to free themselves from tyranny and oppression. But I thought again, t that no friends welcomed them, and the bustle that greeted me they did not witness. They landed indeed in a sfcrange land ; the wild animal was lord there, and forest trees covered these shores. How great the change ! Friends were here to welcome me, who had escaped from the army. And as these thoughts came upon me, I could not but un- cover my head and pay a tribute of respect to the noble land that sheltered and defended me and so many of my country- men. Only those who have passed through the scenes that I have can realize the emotions that were stirred within me as I stepped upon the land of freedom. 124. GETTING POSTED. CHAPTER XIX. I WENT up into the city, and as I came near the sugar-house I met a woman that knew me, and she said, * There is Sergeant Ambler coming.' Her husband belonged to the artillery, and had, a short time before, made his escape from St. John. She asked me into her house and gave me something to eat. With what eagerness I seized the food and devoured it, for I had been without so long, that I was nearly starved. When I went on board the steamboat I had a small piece of bread, which I ate, and that was all I had eaten for three days, I now felt very hungry and weak. I informed her that I had got away from the army at last, and that I supposed it was 'easier for her to get along here than it was in the other country, when she stood behind the tap- room bar she used to sell liquor in St. John. ' What do you mean?' she asked. * Why, that they do not sell rum here in this place.' She laughed, and said, ' I guess that you'll find as much liquor as you will want here.' ' Why,' I said, * I thought there was a law here that forbids liquor selling. I have heard the people in St. John speak of it.' 'You wait here a short time and you can judge for yourself,' ehe said. I remained a short time there, and soon her husband came, who appeared very glad to see me, and after lighting our pipes, I told over my adventures that I had passed through in making my escape. He also related to me what success he had met GETTING TO WOEK. 125 with in the 'Yankee land,' as we designated the United States. I informed him of rny marriage, and that my wife was in St. John, and that if I obtained work here I intended to send for her. * Well, come Ambler,' he said, 'let me show you around a little,' and he took me out into a back room and pulled out a keg from under the bed, and drew off" some liquor, and filling up a glass, presented it to me, which I drank. It had been so long since I had drank, that it created an intolerable thirst for more, and before I was fully aware of it, I was intoxicated. I stopped in that back room that night, and the next morn- ing went to find work, and was successful in getting a chance on the railroad, shoveling gravel. I received one dollar per day, which I thought was great pay, and that I could live and drink like a hero, not taking into consideration that things were more than twice as high here as they were in England. I worked here, with nothing on my feet but a pair of slippers, in the water sometimes knee-deep, but my ' boss,' taking pity upon me, gave me a nice pair of thick boots. I worked here about three weeks before I settled, and found that a good part of what money I received, would have to go to pay for the liquor that I drank, as I took it regularly, night and morning, and I found that it was sold some higher here per glass. While I was at work here, I sent for my wife, telling her that I had obtained work, and that I should like for her to come on. My wife's lather had lived at D , and owned a fine form there. He was a ship-builder and transacted considerable bus- iness, but he died in the midst of it, and thus left many unset- tled accounts, and as there was no one to look out for the property, it was soon reduced, and the fine farm had to be sold. The family then moved to St. John, and as they went in the first society and lived in good style, they had to keep up ap- pearances, which they did, by selling piece after piece of their furniture, as it could be spared. When I first became acquaint- ed with my wife, they were somewhat reduced in circumstances. My wife was not aware that I was such a drinking man as I 126 SETTING UP HOUSE-KEEPING. was ; if she had been she would never have come to Portland to live with me. I had always kept pretty sober when I was going to see her; and if, when under the influence of liquor, I met her upon the street, I would keep as distant as possible, and take the first opportunity to absent myself; and although she was told by others, she could not believe that I was as bad as they represented me. I soon received a letter from her, tell- ing me that she would come in the boat such a day. I was at the wharf on the arrival of the boat, and met her, and we went to the place that I had stopped and remained there that night; but as they could not accommodate us, and as my wife had brought some furniture with her, we took a rent in an attic. It was a miserable place. We could see out through the roof, and were never long in finding out when it rained. I did not like my situation on the railroad, and went to tht gas-works, and obtained a situation in the purifying house, where I received the same pay. Soon after, I moved into a tenement in the house of my employer, named Barker, who took quite an interest in me, and did many favors for me, which I never shall forget. In a short time, I moved into the upper part of the city, into an old house, and while there my wife was taken sick. During her sickness I still had to work, leaving her alone until I re- turned from my labor. She was very sick, and while thus she made me promise that I would leave off drinking. In a short, time, she began to recover, but when she got about I forgot my promise, and drank the same as ever. The house we lived in was so cold that we could not keep ourselves comfortable, and I therefore got a tenement down by the sugar-house ; and soon after I moved, my wife's mother came to visit us. It was now near the spring election, and in the shop where I obtained my liquor all of the talk was upon that subject; and we were told that if such a man was elected, that we should get no liquor, and that if we were suspected of keeping any at our houses, that we were liable to have our homes searched. I RUM AND WRETCHEDNESS. 127 wished, from the bottom of my heart (as all poor drunkards do), that all strong drinks were out of the way ; but then the rum- seller told us that assembled there, that our rights were assail- ed ; and as I was a great stickler for rights, of course my indig- nation was aroused, and with the rest I loudly asserted that I would never submit to have my home searched. This was a constant theme for some time before the election, and although I was not a voter, I felt as much interest in the result as any one. The day of the election came, and I was treated, as about all were, to plenty of rum ; and we were told that at night they that is, the rummies, were going to give Neal Dow* a sere- nade. I was in for it, with the rest of them, as I was intoxi- cated, and at night I was amongst the gang of ruffians (as I look upon them now) and went with them to his residence. There we commenced our unearthly strains, and made the air resound with our noise, and the night hideous. No notice was taken of our demoniac exhibitions, and at last we left disgusted, or I was, with the evening's entertainment. I drank so hard that my wife's mother could not put up with it, and she got me to go with her to New York, where she had a son. When I arrived there, her son showed me around the city and the suburbs ; but as they lived in good style, and as I was not used to it, I did not feel at home ; so the next morn- ing, before they were up, I started off, and went to an island near, where there was a regiment of soldiers, and saw many there that I knew. They wanted me to go with them to Cali- fornia, as that was the place they were ordered to ; but I would not go, and I soon lefl the island. I since learned that every man of the regiment was lost on their passage. I took the steamboat for Boston, and, arriving there, I went into the fort, and with some other soldiers got intoxicated, and hardly knew myself where I did pass the time ; but I stopped there three days, and then took the boat for Portland, and when I arrived there, I had not a cent in my pocket. The 4th of July, 1852, 1 * I have had, since that time, the pleasure of asking the gentleman's pardon. 128 CAUGHT ON THE ADMIRAL. was living in Portland, and the morning after, having nothing in the house to eat, I started out, and in going up the street I found twenty-five cents, and a short distance further on I picked up twenty-five cents more. With this money, I went into a pro- vision store, and bought me some beef, and carried it home. I obtained a chance to work in the foundry, and while there, I used to drink hard, and neglect home. About this time an in- cident happened that came near depriving me of my liberty that I prized so dear. I was going to the depot one day, when a soldier met me that had escaped from the same regiment that I did, and he said, 'Sergeant Ambler, your old captain has just gone aboard the Admiral.' ' Well,' I said, ' I will go down and see him.' 'If you do, you will be taken,' said the deserter, 'for he is after , and a number of others that have escaped.' ' I will risk his taking me, and I am going down to see him,' I said, and starting off, I went down to the wharf, and went on board the steamer; but not seeing the captain on deck, I went into the cabin, and saw him. The moment he saw me, he said, ' Ah ! Sergeant Ambler, how do you do ? ' I took off my hat, as I was accustomed to do in the army, and saluted him, and said that I was pretty well ; and looking toward him at the same time, I noticed his wife in the state- room, and being acquainted with her, I went in and spoke to her; and as I turned to come out, I found the door fast. I put my shoulder against it and broke it open, and as I stepped out into the cabin, the captain said, 'You are my prisoner.' Pay- ing no attention to his words, I hurried out of the cabin and jumped upon the wharf, and then I turned to my former cap- tain that had followed me, and said, ' Good by, captain, I will meet you again,' and then turned to go home. The excitement had taken my strength almost away. Arriving home, I found my wife almost crazy, as some one had told her that I was taken a prisoner, and was carried off in the Admiral; but my presence put an end to her grief, and I felt pleased in getting away so easily. FOLLOWING A LOOM TO BIDDEFORD. 129 CHAPTER XX. I DID not feel quite at home in Portland after my adventure with the captain, and one day I was going toward the depot, when I saw a loom. I was somewhat surprised, as I had not seen one since I left England, and inquired of a man where it was going. He informed me that it was going to the mills in Saco, Me. I went home to my wife Avith an idea in my head, and telling her that I meant to follow that loom, I found her perfectly willing. The next day I settled in the foundry, and took the cars for Saco, and on arriving there, went down to the mills, but they would not let me go in ; so I went over to Biddeford, on the other side of the river, and went into the Pepperell counting- room and got a permit. I went into the weave-room, and met a fellow-countryman, and asked him for work. ' What can thee do, lad ? ' he asked in the Yorkshire tone. I replied in the same tone, that I wanted to learn to weave, and that I used to weave when in England. He said that he would take me, and the next morning I went in and commenced work. I was placed in charge of a man to learn me to weave, but when I had worked two hours, he went to the overseer and asked him what he meant in fooling him, for the fellow, he said, can weave as well as I can. The overseer then came and put me upon two looms, and the next day I commenced to work upon four and earned one dollar a day. I worked about three weeks and then I went after my wife. I moved my furniture to Biddeford, and, not getting a tenement, we boarded on Alfred street. I went back into the mill, and soon run eight looms a day, having a small girl to shuttle 'cops' for me. 9 180 THE RUNAWAY PIOS. I took my wife into the room where I worked and learned IK-I- to weave, and we both used to make about sixty dollars a month. I paid thirteen dollars and fifty cents per month ibr my board, and of the balance of my money, I am sorry to say, the most of it went for liquor. I did not get drunk, but I coul 1 take quite a number of glasses a day, which, at the end of the month, would make quite a bill. I had drunk much liquor in my life, but the 'Yankee liquor' did not agree with me as well as that which I got in the British dominions, and I was taken sick, and went up into the country, out of the way of liquor, and soon recovered. When I returned I went into the mill again, and kept pretty steady, and in a mouth we had saved up fifty dollars. I felt pretty well pleased, and began to think about going to house-keeping ; so I moved to Sullivan street, and as soon as I had got settled, my wife's mother came from New York to visit us. I felt the importance of making every thing tell, and invested a part of my funds in a couple of pigs, and, fixing up a place for them, I put them into their new quar- ters. I felt well pleased with m'y pigs, as they were the first animals I ever owned, and took real comfort in looking at them All went smoothly for about a week, when a small boy came into the mill and reported to me that my pigs had broken out of barracks, and that my wife's mother, with an escort of boys, were after the deserters, but had not succeeded in arresting them. I went to the overseer and asked him to let me go out and find my pigs, but he would not. I remained in the mill as long as I could ; I seemed to see rny pigs running before me as I went about my work, and feeling that necessity demanded it I went out to find them. I went to my house, but my pigs were not there. I then started and went back upon the heights and met my wife's mother, with her escort, returning in tri- umph with the prisoners in a bushel basket. I carried my pigs home and secured them in the pen, and then returned to the mill, informing the workmen that I had been successful ; but they made fun of my pigs, and my wife laughed at me. DRINKING UP THE PIGS. 131 Those two pigs were the instruments in bringing considerable trouble upon me. My overseer proposed that I should stand treat, as I had found my pigs, and I could not well refuse. We went out. and I treated him, but as soon as I had the first glass I wanted another, and thus I went on until I got intoxicated. I stopped out of the mill a week and spent all the money I had, and then my glasses that I ran in debt for were chalked down upon the door. The man's name, that kept the shop, was Swindle (a name very appropriate to his business), and he had chalked down to me, besides what I had spent, three dol- lars, and to get his pay, he wanted me to sell my pigs. I took my pigs one morning, after I had got partially over my spree, one under each arm, and started off to find a customer. I found one on Alfred Street, and disposed of both of them, and meet- ing some persons that I knew, I invited them into Swindle's, and before I left we had drank my pigs all up. I got quite in- toxicated while in the shop, and had some light skirmishing. One young man I thought had insulted me, and I watched an opportunity to chastise him, but did not get a chance when in the shop. When he went out I followed, and, overtaking him upon Adams Street, I commenced to box him, when, escaping from me, he seized a large stone and threw it at me, but for- tunately it did not strike me. He then started on a run, and I followed, but not making much progress in running he escaped. I went back to the shop, and after getting a few more glass- es, I started for home. I succeeded in getting as far as Alfred street, but even in that short distance a number of persons ran against me, and once I got against the broadside of a building, and it seemed to whirl around so that it was with the utmost difficulty I made my way along ; and the last I remember for the night I was by the side of the road trying to find my hat in the gutter. Early in the morning I came to myself, and found that I was in the mud. I crawled out, looking rather sheepish, and made my way toward home. I soon became sobered, and felt very bad that I had spent my money, and thus made a beast of 132 OLD SHILLINGS 1 HORSE. myself; and I went back to work with the determination to keep steady, that is, only to take my regular dram. I thought that I could not get along without that, as I had, a great por- tion of my life, been accustomed to it. At this point I had another trouble. My wife's mother had been living with us, and this drunk quite upset her, and she de- termined not to stay longer with such a degraded son-in-law, and asked me to get a team and take her to the depot with her trunks. So I went on to the street and met Isaac Clifford, and asked him if he could tell me where to get a team to take her to the depot. He said yes, you can get Skillings'. He has got a horse that wont let you ride in the dust after anybody, for he is a regular black hawk ; can go in 2:40; can beat the engine; and the old man is a No. 1 horse-jockey, and can just drive him too. So I went and found the old fellow, and told him to call at my house, on Sullivan street, next day, at 10 o'clock, to take me and mother with her trunk to the station. He says, 'Where is your house?' I told him, it was the next house to Judge Berry's. 'All right,' says Skillings, 'I'll be on hand.' Next day at the time named I heard a knock at my door, and went to the door to see who was there, and as I opened the door I saw Skillings with his beautiful steed hitched into a reg- ular go-cart. * Good morning,' said he. ' Good morning,' says I. 'And is that your team?' 'Yes,' said he, 'I guess it is no other one's.' Well, the horse looked to me like the old pewter- cased watch that John Gould once sold to me, for all the watch- makers in Biddeford could not wind it up into going order. I said, ' Skillings, is that the horse that Clifford says can beat a flash of lightning his whole length on trotting a mile?' 'It is true, as I am a misbegotten son of poverty,' said the old man. Didn't I laugh. He looked to me as if he was a number of de- grees below any horse flesh I had yet seen ; such a poor jackass- looking skeleton of a horse I never saw before. He looked as if he had just been marched from the camp of starvation, and had been fed on water gruel after being all night in a barrel of THE RIDE TO THE DEPOT. 133 molasses and water. His hair was looking a thousand ways for Sunday, long-necked, cat-hammed, heavy-headed, flat-eared, crooked-shanked, narrow-chested, swelled-hocked, and as solemn as if he had been contemplating his latter end for the last twen- ty years. And his tail, oh what a tail ! It looked as if it had been cut off and drove in, being pretty well battered and bushed up in the operation ; or, as Mark Twain says, ' he had set down on it too hard.' Well, it is no use, I won't attempt any further delineation of that wonderful horse, and the cart was altogeth- er indescribable, especially the jolting part of it; but on our way to the depot I could say, without exaggeration, that it was better felt than expressed. What a jolting, and creaking, and splashing, and din ; The whip how it cracks, and the wheels how they spin; How the mud right and left o'er the hedges is hurled, Old Skillings at length makes a noise in the world. And in this way I, poor man, had to accompany my poor mother to the train, which was to bear her away ; and all this for selling my pigs and getting drunk on the proceeds. I could say, ' O Poverty, where are thy charms that sages have seen in thy face?' I had been at work pretty steadily for three months, when my overseer asked me one day if I should not like to go out and take a drop. As I could never resist an invitation, I went out with him and his brother into a liquor shop, where the over- seer treated us, and I followed. We drank quite a number of glasses, and, going over into Saco, we drank more there ; and, to finish our day's recreation, the overseer proposed that we should go up by the railroad bridge, and have a swing. We went up by the side of the river, and while there, the overseer laid down upon the bank, and fell asleep. His brother proposed, as he had only treated once, to rob him, and to treat ourselves, to which I readly assented. We searched his pockets, but found no money there ; but I knew that he had money about him, and I was not disheartened yet, and pulling off his boots, I 134 BOBBING T1JE OVERSEEE. found in his stockings forty-one dollars. When his brother saw it, he said, * Now we will have a spree, let us go over to Saco again.' ' I am ready,' I said, and, starting off, we went over, leaving the overseer asleep on the ground. When we arrived at Saco we went into a shop, and called for some liquor and drank it, and I paid for it with my own money, as I had some left. My companion wanted me to break into the money, but as I had some left of my own, I would not. We soon went over to Biddeford, and I gave the money to my wife, telling her at the same time where I obtained it. The next morning, when I went into the mill, the overseer, the mo- ment he saw me, became very much excited, and with harsh language asked me where his money was. 'I have not your money,' I replied. He soon left me, but ray wife came in soon, and, going over where he was, gave him the money, and told him the circumstances about it. He felt so well pleased that he went out and brought in a bottle of brandy and treated us, unknown to my wife. I was in the habit of going with a scout into the woods every Sunday to learn them the military drill, and to go through the sword exercise, and thus pass God's day. We often ended in a regular drunken skirmish, and returned home cairying the marks of war upon us. GETTING BETTER LIQUOR. 135 CHAPTER XXI. As I went to and from my work, I noticed a pretty polite little fellow that kept a saloon in Dudley's block. When I met him he would most of the time have a covered basket, and many were the conjectures that were made in regard to what he carried in that basket. I thought one day that I would go into his shop and see if he kept anything to drink. I therefore went in and asked him for a glass of ale, which he gave me, and I thought that it tasted much better than that which I ob- tained at other places. I followed getting my beer regularly here for some time, and was treated so politely by the keeper of the shop that I could not help thinking how foolish I had been in getting my liquor at the low holes, as I thought they were, that I had been accustomed to. In a room in the back part of the shop was a domino-table, around which quite a number of young men would be seated every night. I used to be called quite a skillful player when I was in the army, and the table attracted my attention, and I soon commenced to play there, and used to win tickets which I would spend for beer. One evening, while playing there, I noticed a teamster coming into the shop, and he made some motions, upon which the keeper reached under the counter (I had my eye upon him), and taking a cover from a butter-firkin, pulled out a decanter, out of which he turned a glass of liquor and handed to the teamster, who drank it down in a hurry. I soon finished the game and arose and asked the keeper for a glass of that article that he kept under the counter. * Won't you say anything about it ? ' he asked. 'Of course not,' I replied. THE CUSTARD MAN, The keeper then turned out a stiff glass, and telling me to drink quick, I eagerly seized it, and drank it instantly. I never drank such liquor before ; I thought that it would truly burn me up, and in ray eagerness to get some water, I kicked over the domino-table and made considerable confusion before I succeeded. 'What kind of liquor do you call that?' I asked. * Why, that is the fourth-proof brandy, and the very best that can be obtained,' he replied. * We never have such liquor as that in the old country,' I said. 'Ah! you get cheated there; they don't care what they sell to a man, and they probably water it considerably before sell- ing, but we don't treat our customers so.' T felt quite satisfied with the reasons that he had given me, and thought that I had found a place where I could get good liquor. There was one young man who visited that place, a free- hearted and pleasant fellow, that did not spend his tickets for liquor (that he won by playing dominos), but for custards. The keeper of the saloon, when settlement was near in the ship-yard, would bake up some two or three dozens of custards expressly for this young man, who always came in as soon as settlement, and commence at one end of the custard board and ' sweep all before him.' And it was a common saying among the frequenters of the saloon, when near settlement, to say that it was about ' custard time.' I continued to get my liquor at this place on ' tick,' which I would square up every settlement, paying from five to ten dollars for liquor per month. One night, while in this saloon, I took quite a number of glasses, and when he closed his shop I heard the sound of a fiddle behind it in a small house. Having some pork and beans and herring for my Sunday dinner, as this was Saturday night, I buried them in the snow, and then went up to the house and went in. I was acquainted with a number, and joined in the GETTING INTO A FIGHT. 137 dance with them. After having danced a short time, a woman asked me if I was not going to treat, upon which I ordered a quart, which was brought and drank ; and after drinking I said something that enraged some of them, and they seized me to put me out of the house. I knocked down quite a number, but they overpowered me and put me out, minus my hat and part of my coat. I felt that I was an injured man, and I start- ed upon a run for the watchman at the covered bridge, but as I went running toward him bare-headed, without my hat, he took to his heels and ran with all his might, and finding that I could get no help, I determined to venture into the house again. I went in and found that they had broken the fiddle and were abusing the fiddler. I took his part, but being the weaker party, we were roughly handled, and put out of the house into the street. I went and found my provisions that I had secreted in the. snow, and, having found my hat, I started Jo ward home with my companion, who made a grab at my herrings, taking a number of them. I told him that if he was not peaceable that I should box him ; but he paid no attention to it, but made an- other levy upon my herrings. This somewhat aroused me, when I began to box him, giving him a pretty sevei'e whipping, but lost some of my provisions. I went home in a somewhat dilapidated condition, and I have found ever since, that 'those that dance must pay the fiddler.' One night I was in the 'Yan- kee Saloon,' as the English termed it ; and as he did not have much liquor, I went into an Irish house, and there I met an Englishman, and we drank together, and in the course of the evening we got to quarrelling and be challenged me to fight him. At that time I was ready for a challenge, and we went out in the street ; the snow was some two feet deep, and we fought some two hours. We both found ourselves in a sorry plight at the close of our long-contested conflict. I remember going home feeling rather ashamed. I tried to keep steady again, and succeeded in doing so about one month, and saved up a little money, and with it I bought me a watch, the first 138 HUNTING FOR ANOTHER CHANCE. one I ever owned. Soon after I bought my watch, I thought I would show myself in the saloon kept by the polite fellow in Dudley's block. I had not been in there for some time before, and when I entered the keeper remarked, * What a stranger you are ! ' ' Yes, I am somewhat a stranger,' I replied. * Come and take a glass, will you?' he asked. 'I never refuse,' I replied, going up to the counter and drinking the liquor that he set be- fore me. I drank quite a number of glasses that evening, and traded watches a number of times, and made something in trading. I followed up trading watches, and made some forty dollars, which I soon spent on a spree, and sold the watch that I had left for five dollars, which I spent for drink. After I recovered from my spree, I again said that I would keep steady, and I kept so for some six weeks, and then one morning I was told that I was a father; and as it was the custom in the old coun- try to take a drop, and as I felt happy, I went to the saloon, and obtained a glass, and then another, and became quite intox- icated, and remained so for some three weeks. When I came to myself, I told my wife that it would not answer for me to stop in Biddeford, and asked her one night to make me up a bundle of clothes, and I would leave Bid.leford, and try and find some place where I could work without getting drunk. My wife picked up my things, and one morning, bidding her good- by, I started off. I went up on the heights, and then turned around and looked back to the house. I felt bad to leave my wife, and thought to myself that if liquor was out of the way, how happy I could live, and what comfort I could take in life. I thought some of returning, 'but it's no use,' I said to myself, 'if I stop here., I shall die;' and, turning my back toward my home, I walked away. I continued my way until I came oppo- site the rum-shop kept by Swindle, and I thought that as I was about leaving town I would go In and bid my friend goo:l-by. I entered his shop and told him where I was going. 'Well, take a glass before you go,' he said, taking down a de- WANTING TO GO UP. 139 canter. 'I don't care if I do,' I replied; and drinking it down, I was upon the point of leaving, when an acquaintance of mine proffered me another glass, which I drank. I did not intend to get intoxicated, but was bent upon getting out of Biddeford. I therefore bade the keeper good day, and went up to the depot, and went into the ticket office, and producing a two dollar bill, I asked the man to give me a ticket to carry me as far as they could for the money. ' Do you wish to go down ? ' he asked. No, sir,' I replied, ' I have been going down for some time, and I want to go up now.' He gave me a ticket, with some change for Newburyport. I waited some time for the cars, and when they came I went aboard, and got out at Newburyport. I was in rather a poor condition ; I looked as if I had been dropped from the bag that is generally carried on behind a tin-man's cart. I went down to the mills, and succeeded in getting a situa- tion in the Ocean Mills, and my employer obtained a boarding- place for me. I went to work the next morning, and kept pret- ty steady for about a month. At the end of the month I wrote to my wife (I had learned to write, so that with some labor she could decipher it), and sent her the balance of the money that I had left after paying my board. I owed a small grocery bill in Biddeford, and as my wife was about to move, the furniture was attached ; but my wife's mother paid the bill, and she moved to Newburyport, where I was. I met her at the depot, and as I had a -tenement ready to move into, we soon got settled in our new quarters, and my wife felt well pleased with the change. I told her that I had not drank since I left Biddeford. I kept steady for a short time after my wife and her mother came ; but one evening, as I was in the store where I obtained my pro- visions, I saw the keeper hand the man a small flask, and imme- diately my old appetite was aroused, and I went home and pro- cured a small bottle, and, returning to the store, I had it filled with brandy, and put down in my store-book as groceries. I h.-id gone but a short distance before I drank the whole of it. 140 WIFE MISTRUSTED ME. I went to the house and went to bed, without my wife's know- ing that I had been drinking. The bottle I would get filled regularly every other night ; but my wife soon began to mis- trust me, and when the month was out, and she saw the bill that we owed for groceries, she was astonished. But I told her that grocery bills would tell up fast, and that I expected our bill would be somewhere about that amount. But she was not satisfied, and said that if I would leave off trading at that place, she would go into the mill to work. I left that place, and found another, and my wife went to work, leaving the child to the care of her mother. I am surprised, as I look back upon my past career, to see what a life I led ; but I know that the bad, as well as the good, must go together in making up these pages, and that I should fail to give my life, unless I told the scenes that I have passed through, although I often blush to think of them. A SET-TO WITH STICKS. 141 CHAPTER XXII. AT the place where I now obtained my groceries, I found that there was more liquor sold than at the old place, and in a short time I drank as hard as ever. I made the acquaintance of some Englishmen who were great drinkers, and we used to have some merry times together, and as I was a pretty good singer, these fellows would get me to go out evenings and sing, and then treat me. We used to frequent a certain rum-shop, and play cards until morning, and then I would go home and get a little sleep, and then go to my work at the usual time; this I fol- lowed up for some weeks. The Sabbath day I would join a scout of fellows who went off to play cards. I would not play, put would keep watch while the others did. One Sunday I went down to a liquor shop, and the keeper told me that there was a smart fencer in the place, and that he had challenged me to fight with the sticks, saying that the one who received the first blow should pay for a pint of gin. I ac- cepted the challenge, and the man was brought in, and I was introduced to him. We went into a large cellar, and finding a couple of broom handles, we commenced in good earnest. I soon found that I had a hard one to deal with, and I brought out all the skill that I was master of; and, at last, by a dexterous move- ment, I struck his arm, knocking the stick instantly from his hand. The keeper of this shop was out of liquor, but he said that he could get some at the shop that supplied him ; and, tak- ing a jug, he started off, and soon returned with some gin, as he said, and tasting of it pronounced it good liquor. Turning out three glasses, he mixed them up, and then passed them to 142 DRINKING THE FLUID. us, and we all three drank. I thought that the first glass that I drank at the ' Yankee Saloon ' at Biddeford was strong, but it was nothing compared with this. It was something like tak- ing down live coals, and I fairly yelled with pain, while the other two rolled upon the floor. I said to the keeper that it was the hottest stuff that I ever took into my throat. I hardly knew what to do ; the keeper took to his bed, and as I could not rest, I went out of the shop toward home. As I was going along on the street, I thought I should burn up. I told my wife that I had drank some gin down to Fowles', and that I thought he had made a mistake, and given me fluid. I could not rest at home, and I therefore went down to the rum-shop again, and found him in as bad, if not in a worse condition than I was. We sent to the place where the gin came from, and found out that the man had made a mistake, and sent us fluid. I took an oath that if I got out of this scrape, I would never drink again. I went to work, and kept steady for a short time, and at settle- ment, when I went to pay my bill at the grocery store, the keeper wanted to know what the trouble was, that my bill was so small. I told him that I was going to be a temperate man. The next day I went after some groceries, and as he had just taken in a fresh supply of liquor, the keeper said, ' Now, Am- bler, we have got some of the best of English cogniac, and I want you to come in and take a glass.' He knew that if he could get me to take one glass, that I should want another. I looked at the door where he used to chalk the glasses down against me, the last time that I was in there; the two panels of the door were covered with chalk-marks, but now they were all rubbed out; they were all settled. I was pondering what to do, when the voice of the keeper aroused me. ' Come,' he said, 'I'm bound to treat you at my expense.' I drank the liquor, and soon the chalk-marks began to make their appearance upon the door again. I went that night with my old associates, and we had a drinking party. The next day I staid out of the mill, and, in company with GETTING INTO ANOTHER MUSS. 143 six others, went on a * spree.' At night we went into an Eng- lishman's house, and drank and sung, and at last got to fight- ing and broke the furniture and did some other damage before we left. I started to go home, and it was raining very hard, and as I went past a saloon I heard a cry for help. 1 rushed in and saw a colored man with a wound on his head, occasioned by a drunken sailor's throwing an oyster-plate at him. When 1 entered, the colored man was in the act of seizing the sailor, but quite a number of his companions interposed. I always joined the weakest party, and I therefore immediately seized the sailor and sung out for the police, who soon came in ; and I helped him cany the drunken sailor to the watch-house. His companions started after me, being angry, as soon as the police left, and I ran down into a lumber-yard, near the water. They searched some time for me, and one man took hold of the stick of lumber that I was behind, but as it was quite dark, he did not see me. They soon left, and I came out of my hiding-place, feeling very uncomfortable, as I was wet through. As I went toward home, I passed by the house where my grocery man lived, and, as I was wet through, I thought I would get a glass of gin, and, going up the steps before the door, I stepped upon a verandah, and, as I could hardly see, I walked oif and fell some twelve feet and struck upon my head upon the ground. I was senseless for some time, and when I came to myself the rain was beating in my face. I got up, but I felt dreadfully. I was wounded badly, I knew, for I could hardly walk. I did not know where I was, but going up to a house, I asked w r here Russia street was. I was told that it was the next street above. I went to the next street, and entering it, I came to a house that looked like the one that I lived in, and went up and knocked. My wife came to the door, but as the wind blew, she shaded the lamp so that I could not see her face, and I asked, 'Does Mr. Ambler live here?' She was frightened, thinking that I was indeed out of my head, and when I went in she almost fainted, as my face was bruised badly. She 144 WIFE'S PATIENCE EXHAUSTED. thought .it first that it was done in a drunken row, but I told her that I had had a fall that occasioned it. In a few days I had recovered so that I was enabled to go to work. I told ray wife, soon after, that I wanted to move, as I never had any luck in the house. I found my wife liked the proposal, and I immediately went before breakfast and obtained a tene- ment, and, borrowing a wheelbarrow, I moved all our things to my new quarters upon it, as the tenement was but a short dis- tance off. I went to work again in the mill, and kept pretty steady at my work, only taking my glass regularly every morn- ing; and strange to say, these regular glasses did not make me have an appetite for more, as it did if I took a glass at other times. My grocery bill was so large at the end of the month that we could make just money enough to pay it. One afternoon, as I was out of the mill, I went into the store and got some liquor. It made my head dizzy, and I went home and laid down upon the bed. My wife, knowing what the ti'ouble was, and thinking it was high time to stop my drinking, went down to the grocery store and told the keeper that if he sold me another glass of liquor she would inform against him. She returned to the house, and soon after I arose, feeling rather disagreeably, and took a small flask and went down to the store and asked the keeper to fill it. 'I can't sell you any more liquor,' he said, 'for your wife has been here and forbidden it.' I was enraged upon hearing this, and swore that I was under no woman's thumb, and that I would learn her better than to meddle with my business. ' I'll tell you what I can do,' said the keeper; 'she forbade my selling you a glass of liquor; I will sell you a pint, and can charge it upon the store-book as pork, and your wife need not know anything about it.' As pork was ninepence per pound, my pint of brandy would be equal to two pounds of pork. I thought it was an excellent way to get over the difficulty; but I am sure I should never have thought of this way if the rumseller had not proposed it. LONGING TO BREAK MY FETTERS. 145 It probably was not a new method to him. I obtained the brandy, and upon my book it was put down, 'two pounds of pork, at twelve and a half cents per pound, twenty-five cents.' I went home, feeling somewhat displeased with my wife; but as I had a pint of liquor with me, I came to the conclusion not to say as much as I intended to in the outset. I said, ' Well, wife, things have come to a pretty pass, that I am not allowed to take a glass of liquor.' 'I have stood your drinking as long as I intend to; you have made our home unhappy long enough, and now I intend to see if I can't stop it,' she said. We had quite a talk, and I thought as soon as I drank the pint of liquor that I had in my pocket, I would not drink any more. I soon left the room and went into the cellar and drank my liquor; and then, hiding the bot- tle, I went up-stairs, ami told my wife that I should not go out that evening. My wife felt well-pleased with my determination, and I felt well repaid in staying at home. It was the first evening that I had spent at home for some time ; and, although I felt happy, yet I missed my companions, and I have no doubt but that I was missed in the den where I was accustomed to spend my leisure time. I had no idea that my habits had such a hold upon me, and it was indeed not without a struggle that I stopped at home that evening. Oh! how I wished that I could break the chain that bound me, for I felt that I was in bondage; but I could not subdue the appetite that was leading me, step by step, down to a drunkard's grave. 'Where will this end?' I asked myself, as I looked back upon the downward road that I had traveled. I did not ask the help of God. I did not come to Him who is able to save the poor drunkard, and ask for that grace that He alone can give ; but I made res- O O ' olutions in my own strength, and endeavored, without Divine assistance, to brenk off my evil habits. I kept pretty steady at my work a short time ; but, as it was coming cold weather, the evenings grew longer, and as I did not like to spend long evenings at home, I sought my old com- 10 14fi CROCKERY GOING FOR RUM. pnnions in the rum-shops. I had only got pork twice at my grocer's; but my bill was so large that I could not pay it at the end of the month, and as it was now settlement, the keeper of the store said he wanted me to square up, as he intended to close up business. I told him that I did not have money enough to settle my rum and grocery bill, but that I would pay for my groceries, and that he might take a dining-set that I had to his store, and sell it and take his pay. Soon after I left my crockery ware at the shop he failed, and, meeting me one day on the street, he said : 'Ambler, you owe me five dollars, and I want it.' ' But,' said I, ' the set of ware will more than pay your bill.' 'I did not realize enough out of it to pay my bill by five dollars,' he said. I knew that the rumseller was hard upon me, as my ware was worth five dollars more than his bill, but I told him that I would pay him as soon as I obtained some money. As the store where I obtained my groceries was closed up, I asked my overseer to direct me to one where no liquor was kept. He directed me to a respectable place, where I could not obtain liquor. I was invited one evening doAvn to F 's. who kept a liquor hole, and as I neared the place I heard the sound of a fiddle, and I thought that the company were having quite a merry time. I went in and the keeper treated me to a drink, and I soon had taken quite a number of glasses, and felt pretty well. There was a large, stout-built man there, bragging of his exploits ; we did not agree very well, and we soon got to fighting, and made such a disturbance that the others there called for the police, and I had to take my leave, or get into the watch-house. I chose the former, and in going down the stairs I was seized, but breaking away, I started on a run for home, which I soon reached. I fastened my door, expecting that some one would be after me, as I knew that my opponent had got a pretty severe whipping; but no one came, and I went to bed. I used to have many drunken sprees with F , and WIFE LEAVING ME. 147 many were the quarrels that I have had in his rum-shop ; but I will forbear relating many incidents of my life, that happened about this time, as I am well aware that the pages of this work will be extended to a greater length than will be profitable or edifying to the reader. After working in the Ocean Mill a number of months, I left and got work in another mill, and also moved about the same time into a room that I obtained about one mile from my work. Soon after I moved, I went on a * spree ' with a number of other men ; one of them, I remember, was as good and as free-hearted a fellow as I ever saw, and would always help me when I got into difficulty ; and although he led a miserable life, he gave me good advice, which, if I had followed, would have saved me from many troubles and difficulties that I have undergone. We all agreed to leave the place, and go to Biddeford. When I went home, I told my wife that I intended to leave ; and the next morning I did so, leaving in the house only a peck of potatoes for my wife to live on. When I got to Biddeford, I went into the weave-room upon the Pepperell Corporation, and obtained a situation. I worked in the mill two or three days, when two of the men that agreed to come to Biddeford came into the mill where I was working, one of them so exhausted, having been without food for some time, and walked from New- buryport, that he fainted in the room, and had to be carried out. I got work for the two men. As soon as I received some money, I sent it to my wife, who immediately came to Bidde- ford, leaving her little furniture behind. 1 drank so hard now, while in Biddeford, that my wife could not put up with it, and she told me that she was determined to leave ; and as I could not persuade her to stay, I left my work, and went to Portland with her, and to the wharf where she took the steamboat for St. John. I stood again upon the same wharf that I had stood upon about four years before, but under what different circumstances! I thought that I had escaped to a land of freedom, but I found 148 DEGRADED AND HOPELESS. that I had only got myself into a worse condition than I was in when in the army ; for there I was under a discipline that restrained me to a considerable extent, but here I did as I wished, and I thought how fast I had gone down hill the past four years. But the boat was about leaving, and, bidding my wife good-by and kissing my child, I jumped upon the wharf. Oh ! that it should come to this, that my wife should have to leave nae, be- cause I was such a brute that she could not live with me. I never had abused her, never struck her; I felt glad that I could say that much, but again I thought that there was much that I could not say. I had not provided for her as I should, and my conduct had brought misery and degradation upon her. These thoughts came upon me as I watched the boat fast disappearing from my view ; and, wiping away the tears, I went up into the city, and, as I had no money, I sold some clothes off my back, to get money enough to carry me to Biddeford again. When I arrived at Biddeford, I felt ashamed to go into the weave-room, and I went over into Saco, and got a situation up- on the York Corporation, but meeting some boon companions, I went on a 'spree,' and lost my chance. When I got sober, I determined to leave Biddeford, and selling some extra clothes that I had, obtained money enough to carry me to Newburyport. When I got to Newburyport, I went to the place where my furniture was, and found it all safe, and then I tried to get a chance to work in the mill, but was not successful. I now be- gan to lead a worse life than ever, and shortly after I came back, got into drunken row in the house of an Englishman, and had to run for my life. As I had no boarding-house, I walked the streets two nights and three days without sleep or food of any kind. The next night I went to the friend that I have re- ferred to before, who had helped me out of difficulties many times before, and he gave me half a dollar, which I spent for something to eat and a lodging for the night. The next day I tried again to get work in the mill, and was successful. I was now boarding with a man named T , who kept a SAVING A WOMAN FROM BEING MURDERED. 149 man and his wife beside myself. The man that boarded with me was a great drinker, and would often come home intoxicated. He came home one evening intoxicated ; he was jealous of his wife, and had often threatened her life, and she was always afraid of him when he was in drink. She followed him to his bed- room, and she there heard him handling his razor and strop, and talking about taking life. She hurried down stairs to the keep- er of the house, who was an old man, and informed him that she was suspicious that her husband meant to take her life. The boarding master came and told me that I must take care of the fellow. I took the tongs, and stationed myself beside the door that he would pass through as he came down stairs. I soon heard him coming down, and as he reached the door, he saw me prepared to meet him, upon which he halted. I saw the razor in his hand, and I said : 'Bill, what are you going to do? If you do not instantly put aside that razor I will knock you down.' Seeing that I was determined to be as good as my word, he put the razor down upon the table, saying, ' We have always got along well, and I don't wish to have any quarrel with you.' * Well then,' I said, ' if you do not wish to have a quarrel with me, you must go up to your bed-room and stay there.' He went up to his room, and did not show himself until morning, when he left the place, without taking his wife. I soon commenced drinking again as bad as ever, and one Sunday a number of us -assembled in a drinking-house, and I fell in with a fighting character, and as I was known to box a little, I was matched against him for a pint of brandy. The one that got the first clip would have to pay for the drinks. We stood up, and commenced to strike and parry, and I soon gave him a light blow in the face. I let my hands fall down by my side as soon as I gave the blow, and my opponent, taking advantage of my exposed condition, struck me a pretty severe blow, knocking me down in the corner of the room. I was up- on my feet in an instant, and before the company could arrest 150 GETTING A GOLD DUCK. me, I gave him a blow that threw him against the wall. Here the company separated us, and the fellow apologized, and paid for the liquor. After we drank I started to go home, the people were just coming from church, and I felt rather ashamed to be seen in the condition that I was in, and I ran down upon a wharf that was near, and as this was in the winter, jumped upon the ice. It was in small cakes, and I sank into the water. I arose, but could not get out, as I was entirely surrounded by small cakes of ice that would not support me. I cried out for help, and F , that kept the rum-shop, with another man, came to my rescue. They pulled me out with some difficulty, and after recovering some, they invited me to go and have a drink, but I would not, and went home, looking, as the saying is, ' like a drowned rat.' A short time after, a few of us met in F 's rum-shop, and for sport, one said that he could tell our fortunes by the bumps on our heads, and putting his hands upon the young man's head, said, ' You will live many years, if you do not make way with yourself.' The young fellow said, * I intend to live long enough to pay my debts, and then I shall take my life.' This answer, that seemed to be made in good earnest, sent a chill over the company, and we soon separated, but I did not forget the answer that was made. It seemed to me just as if the young man meant what he said, and I thought that if I lived, I would see to what an end the man came. I had written to my wife a number of times, and had sent money for her to come up with, and as I thought she would be up soon, I secured a tenement, and had my furniture moved to my new quarters, and thought that I would keep bachelor's hall until she came. Not long after this, my poor, long-suffering wife joined me once more, and did what she could to keep me out of the rum-shops. BTEUCK UN DEB CONVICTION. CHAPTER XXIII. I HAVE now reached the period in my history, the most im- portant. Hitherto I relied upon my own strength, but I now called upon one who was able and willing to save to the utter- most, all that put their trust in him. The inebriate's friend, the sinner's Saviour, the only one that is able to sustain us when the hour of trial comes, and place our feet upon a sure founda- tion. About this time, a vestry, where the children of God held stated prayer-meetings, was moved to a spot near where I lived, and one evening I told my wife that I was going in to see how they performed. I had never attended one since I was a boy ; I therefore took my boy with me and went into the meeting. As I entered, a female was engaged in prayer. How strangely it thrilled me ! It seemed to bring back my early days, when I knelt beside my little bed, with my grandmother at my side, and repeated my evening prayer. The prayer seemed to touch my heart, and it was with considerable effort that I restrained the tears from flowing. I would have given anything to have been out of the place, but I could not stir from the spot. When the meeting closed, I went home, and my wife asked me how I liked the meeting. I told her I did not think much of it, but I felt at the same time that I was telling a falsehood. I went out of the house and down to a shop where I drank a glass of liquor, to drive away the feeling that existed within me, but it was of no avail. I could not stop my thoughts, and I felt as bad as ever. In a day or two after, some one came into the mill and told me that a woman that worked for me, and that I had missed 152 RISING FOR PRAYERS. from work, wished to see me, as she was near death. I went to see her, hardly believing the sad news, as I saw the woman the day before in perfect health, but I found her speechless and near death, and I soon went back to my work in the mills, but I was restless, and I went out of the mills to the house where she was sick, and found her dead, and friends weeping over her. Although I had passed through many trying scenes, yet I shed tears at that time. As I went back to my work, what thoughts rushed through my mind ! Are you prepared to die ? I could not answer this question as I wished I could, I was not prepared. I thought of the promise I made God when I was sick in the hospital. Oh, that I had kept it. I thought that this was a warning to me, 'Be ye also ready.' It seemed as if God had spoken to me by his providence numerous times. That night there was a prayer-meeting again in the vestry, and I went with my little boy. As I entered I was interested by the hymn that was sung, which they had just commenced as I entered ; the first words were these, * Jesus died on Calvary's mountain.' How sweet they sounded to me, and I thought, Did Jesus die on Calvary's mountain for me ? Did Jesus do this for poor sinners? all this, and I have rebelled against him all my life. And as they sung another hymn with the beautiful words, ' Children, come home? I thought those words cannot apply to me, it is to those alone that love him, and have been faithful to him. I felt that I was not a child of God, that I was living far from him, therefore those sweet words could not be addressed to me. I trembled in my seat. The sweat dropped from my brow, and I felt that I should sink to the floor. After the hymn was sung, the minister prayed, and others followed, and all their prayers seemed to be directed to me. I could not sit upon my seat, I must do something ; and with considerable dif- ficulty, I pulled myself up by the seat before me, and told them that I wished to become a member of their society (as I had never been to a prayer-meeting since a boy, I was not acquaint- FINDING PEACE WHILE PRATING. 153 ed with their rules and customs, and was altogether ignorant). As I sat down, the people smiled all around me, and some even laughed aloud, whilst others seemed to be angry, thinking that I was making fim of them, as I had led such a dissipated life. Soon after the meeting closed, the minister came along and shook me by the hand, and said : ' God bless you.' This was something new to me, to have a respectable man shake me by the hand, as though I were a brother, and say, 'God bless you.' I could have withstood the curses of a companion, and could have replied to him, but the voice of love, of sympathy, and kindness was something new, and I could not withstand it ; I could not say a word, but burst into tears. I left the place, and went home. My wife asked me how I liked the meeting. I re- plied that I liked it much. ' But wife,' I continued, ' I want you to pray for me, I am no scholar, and I do not know how.' But my wife made no reply to my request, and I thought, I will pray myself. But then, I said to myself, how can I pray, sinner that I am, will it be acceptable ? But whilst these thoughts rushed through my mind, I remembered the hymn that was sung at the prayer-meeting : ' Just as I am, without one plea, But that thy blood was shed for me, And that thou bidst me come to thee, O Lamb of God, I come I ' I fell upon my knees and confessed my sins to God and asked his pardon. My wife could not subdue her tears, but falling down beside me upon her knees, we both prayed earnestly and humbly to God, and He came down and blessed us there. I always thought, before that, that prayer was a senseless, cold, heartless ceremony ; but what a mistake I made, for I felt my heart softened, and that Jesus that died upon Calvary's hill was near me. I felt the peace of God that passeth understand- ing whilst I was upon my knees ; and, although ignorant as I was of spiritual things, the great mystery of salvation and the atonement came like a ray of light from heaven, and illumina- 154 ALL THINGS BECOME NEW. ted ray benighted soul, and we both arose justified, I believe, in the sight of God. As I arose upon my feet I felt that I was a new being. I was loaded with guilt and sin when I bowed before the Throne of Grace, but now it was gone, and I felt that I could say amen to the passage in the Scripture, * For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.' I felt like a child, and, as I looked back upon my past life, I thought, ' Oh that I could live my life over again, and that what I know now I had expe- rienced in the morning of life ! Oh that I had found Christ years ago; what a progress I might have made in life, and what comfort and happiness might I have enjoyed!' I think of my grandmother now, And of the warm tears that she shed. And how at night-fall she did bow By the side of my lowly bed. And with her hands uplifted there, Methinks that her form I can see, Now kneeling beside the arm-chair, As she offered her prayer for me. Earnest and long she plead for me, And her spirit seemed crushed within, That I from the tempter might flee, And be kept from the ways of sin. Those prayers still ring in my ears, Though offered long, long years ago ; As I think of them now, the hot tears Down my cheeks unbiddingly flow. The prayers that my grandmother prayed Have found favor with God on high, And though long in the earth she's laid, Her spirit seems now ever nigh. The next day I went to my work ; and, as I entered the mill, some laughed at me, as they had been told that I spoke in the prayer-meeting; but I paid no attention to the sneers or re- marks that were made, as I felt happy for the first time. I went TRYW'l TO READ THE BIBLE. 155 with my wife to the next prayer-meeting, and in the course of the evening I arose and said that I was a great sinner, and that I desired their prayers for me. Some laughed, whilst a few said amen. The meeting closed, and the minister came and shook me by the hand ; and, as this was Saturday, asked me to attend church next day. I made no reply, as I felt ashamed to tell him that I had no clothes to wear. Whilst I was going home, the words that were spoken by some one at the meeting, 'Give up all for Christ,' seemed to ring in my ears, and I thought, 'What can I give? I have no clothes, money, or anything;' and then again, I thought of the words in the hymn, ' In my hand no price I bring, Simply to thy cross I cliug.' On the Sabbath I remained at home, and tried to read the Bi- ble ; but I did not succeed very well, and I laid it aside. Sab- bath evening I attended the meeting, and told them that I had peace and joy in calling upon the Lord, and that I felt that He had heard my prayers. No one laughed at me now, as they found out that I was in earnest. 1 attended the prayer-meeting regularly, and soon obtained suitable clothes and went to church, and listened to the preach- ing of the gospel, and felt strengthened in the Lord. My ap- petite for liquor continued for some time, but with the help of God I was enabled to overcome it. 156 JOINING THE CHVRiW. CHAPTER XXIV. As soon as my eyes were opened and I saw the goodness of God, my heart went out for others, and I succeeded in getting some of my old companions into the prayer-meeting. My low songs that I before had sung in the bar-room, were now changed into hymns; and I purchased me a hymn-book, and my wife read the hymns to me until I could repeat them, and I soon began to sing, which I found profitable to me, for it kept my mind active, and made me forget the old habits which some- what clung to me. Oh ! if poor drunkards could come to Him who is mighty to save, and who alone can lead them safely through this world, then would they know in whom to put their trust, and they would find Him a high tower to which they could flee in time of danger. The poor man who resolves to leave off in his own strength, how often he falls by the way ! Not so those who put their trust in the Lord, for they are strong in Him, and all the powers of darkness cannot prevail against them; and when- ever trials come, they will find his grace sufficient for them. I continued to walk in the way the Lord directed, and to grow in grace ; and I was asked by a number of the brethren to unite with the church, and after some thought upon the sub- ject, rny wife and myself were baptized, and united with the Christian Church, under the care of Rev. Daniel Pike, May 7, 1857. The minister, when he received us into the church, held up the Bible, and told us to take it for our guide ; it was a blank REVIVAL BREAKING OUT. 157 book to me, for I could not read its pages, but I felt that I would try and explore it, and find the hidden treasures there. I studied some three months upon the Bible, and learned so that I could read it tolerably well. How proud I felt ! I went to the meeting and I told them that I could read the Bible. That evening I heard them pray for a revival, and although I had heard the word before, I did not know its meaning, and I went home and asked my wife, who explained the meaning of the word to me. On Christmas evening (I never shall forget it), there was a prayer-meeting, and although there were but few there, yet God was with them, and the few Christians there prayed earnestly for God to revive his work. From that time there was mani- fested quite an interest, and soon the candle of the Lord shone in our midst, and our little vestry, that we were wont to as- semble in, was filled with inquiring sinners. We commenced a protracted meeting, which was held every evening for some time. There was one young man that attended those meetings regularly, and seemed to be interested, but yet was not converted; one evening, I remember, the minister's mother spoke of the goodness of God to her; she spoke with a broken voice, and it touched the young man's heart, and he arose for prayers. I heard this young man say, after the meet- ing, that he thanked God that he ever heard her speak. It was the voice of a female engaged in prayer that arrested my attention. The tones of a female in prayer seemed to carry me back to my childhood days, when my mother blest and gave me to God. No doubt the thoughts of the young man were carried back to his childhood days, when he heard the woman's voice. Perhaps he thought of the time when a kind mother blessed him and taught him to say his evening prayers. There were near three hundred that went forward for pray- ers during those meetings. The revival first commenced in the little vestry, but it soon spread over the whole city. No Christian that passed through those glorious scenes, when 158 inr FIRST TEIAL. God made his people to sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus, can ever forget them, but they will be ever fresh in his memory, and when the church of Christ is low and in darkness, the memory of those scenes will serve to lighten the Christian's heart, and cause his faith in Christ to be as strong as the prophet of old, who said: 'Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vine ; the labor of the olive shall fail, and the field shall yield no meat; the flocks shall be cut off from the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stall ; yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.' Many came from the country near the city to our meetings, and found him of whom Moses and the prophets did write. Many of the churches of Christ were refreshed by the presence of the Lord, and were strengthened in faith and numbers. One beautiful and marked feature of the great revival was the union of different denominations, and the harmony and oneness that existed at that time, no former period ever witnessed. The world had heretofore charged the churches with coldness to one another, but this barrier being broken down, the world could only look on in wonder, and exclaim : ' This is the Lord's doings, and is marvellous in our eyes.' I continued to attend the public services in the house of God, and to be prompt at the social prayer-meetings. Soon after I joined the church, Mr. Stone was Sunday-school teacher, and he gave for a lesson for us, Exodus 2 : 11, 12, to give our opinion upon ; wife read the story to me. I thought Moses was a good man, and would do no wrong, or it would not have been in the Bible. Wife was at work with me in the mill at this time. The overseer seemed jealous of me, because I would get thirty and forty cuts per week, of cloth, from eighty- six looms, more than anybody else. Wife had sixteen cents per cut for weaving, and the overseer would complain that some of her cuts were not wove well, and he would cut her down ten cents a cut. One day I examined hor cuts before they went to A LITERAL INTERPRETATION. 159 the trimming-room, and found they were all perfect. When they were taken to the trimming-room, as usual, the overseer sent back two of her tickets, cutting off twenty cents again of my poor wife's earnings. She then went to the overseer and asked why it was done, and asked to see the cloth. I was watching the old scamp, and I could tell by the motions of his mouth that he was abusing her, and he called her a hussy. I thought then, is it right fbr*me, an Englishman, who had mar- ried an American woman whose grandmother used to feed the soldiers of the Revolution, to stand by and see her abused. I had professed religion and wanted to do right. The overseer belonged to the same church with me. Our Sabbath-school lesson came up, and as everybody said Moses was a prophet and a good man, and wife had read to me Exodus 2:11, 12, ' And it came to pass, when Moses was grown, that he went unto his brethren and looked on their burdens ; and he espied an Egyp- tian smiting a Hebrew, one of his brethren. And he looked this way and that way; and when he saw there was no man, he slew the Egyptian, and hid him in the sand,' and quick as a flash 1 said, here goes for this Egyptian. I made a rush for him, and told him to take care of himself, I was going to thrash him or he should me. I hit him under the ear and knocked him end over end, bringing the blood from his ears and nose. When he got up he ran for his life, and I after him. Wife got hold of me to stop me, and pulled my shirt right up out of my trowsers behind, and the girls ran to help her, and I caught one of them up and tossed her right slap astride of a loom that was running; but she was too thick for filling and the loom stopped, and I rushed on after the overseer, and he went running and tumbling down through the machine-shop and into the office, and told the agent Ambler was crazy, and he fled for dear life and hid. Well, I thought if this Egyptian had hid himself it would save me the troiible of killing and hiding him myself. You see I was determined to be a Christian after the pattern of Moses, and so I felt justified. It is true, I fell a little short, but my in- tentions were fully up to the pattern. 160 CUUBCU ADMONITION. Well, I was called before the church on a charge of misde- meanor. What a jaw-breaking word that was! What could it mean ? They told me it meant striking one of my brethren of the church. So I got up and told them all about it, and also about brother Stone's Sabbath-school lesson, and how wife had read the whole story to me, and I would show myself as much of a man as Moses was. He pitched into the Egyptian for abusing one of the brethren, and was not my wife as near to me as Moses' kinsman, and would I show myself a man if I did not whip the rascal for abusing a poor hard-working wife ? The church was of two minds about it. The most of them favored the Hebrew, and so I came off with flying colors, with a slight admonition which I suppose meant something like this, viz., that I should look this way and that to see if anybody was looking, the next time I gave any lessons in Hebrew. But, seriously, I tried to behave myself as a Christian, so as to merit the approbation of my conscience and good men, and the chastisement given the overseer was considered no unchris- tian thing, as the following testimony of the agent of the mill where it occurred will show : DEAR SIR, The bearer, Mr. I. W. Ambler, was formerly an employee in the Ocean Steam Mills, and is now devoting his time to the work of a city missionary in Biddeford, Me., and is desirous of obtaining an education that he may be the better qualified for the work in which he is engaged. I hope he will meet with that encouragement he deserves, and that he may have the sympathy of all those who delight in doing good. Respectfully yours, E. S. LESLEY, Agent Ocean Steam Mills, Neioburyport, Mass. About this time I heard that Ackroid, who had been my companion through a portion of my life, had been killed at Se- bastopol. I felt thankful to God that I had escaped from the MY HEART DRAWN OUT FOR OTHERS. army, and that He had shown me the error of my ways, and brought me, as I trusted, into his fold. I felt a strong desire to see men come into the kingdom of God, and this desire so pervaded my mind, that when at my work this was the thought that was ever uppermost; and so much did it engage my at- tention, that I told my wife that I could not work, and that I thought of going to Biddeford and inviting my old companions there to come to Christ. I left the mills in the spi'ing of 1859, and took the cars for that place. I remained in Biddeford some three weeks, and was invited by the different evangelical churches to act as missionary in that place, and after going back to Newburyport and packing my furniture, I returned again with my family, and commenced my labors, and here let me thank the members of the different churches of Biddeford, who have assisted me in my work by their earnest prayers and generous contributions. And here let me say that there seemed to be a fitness ob- served by these good Christians in myself, in a business point of view, viz., that 'it takes a rogue to catch one ;' for had I not been through the mill from Alpha to Omega, and if I did not know the ropes I must have been a dull scholar, for what path of vice had I not trod ? If any live man knew how to pity the poor, the ignorant, the despised, and drunken, and knew who 'had woe, who had sorrow, who had wounds and bruises without number,' that man was I. W. Ambler. And who knew better how to sympathize with destitute fatherless and mother- less children than myself, and for the salvation and comfort of such my heart yearned. There was light in my soul I knew, and feeling enough in my heart, but oh how I sorrowed to think I had not an educa- tional vent to the fullness and richness of God's love that dwelt within me, so that by just hoisting the gates, livers of truth might burst forth and overwhelm all around me with such a sense of God's love as to make them cry out, 'I yield, I yield, by dying love compelled.' Well, here I was, nothing but poor, 11 162 W MY ELEMENT. ignorant Sergeant Ambler; what was to be done. Well, I had re;id in the Bible that God could thresh mountains with worms, and I said that coat fits me; I guess the mountains will feel cheap when a worm like me knocks them to pieces and wheels them into line for the kingdom of God. I had read, too, that Jesus, when he wanted to catch men, called some fishermen to help him, and they left their nets without stopping to get an education, and he made them fishers of men ; and I said, a sol- dier is as good material to start with as an old fisherman, and my blessed captain, Jesus, has never lost a battle, and has called me to charge on the ranks of sin and capture as many as I can and compel them to come into the camp of the Lord, and so I will go out into the highways and hedges and get some recruits for the army of the Lord. The first work, then, was to get quarters where I could enlist, instruct, and drill all who would come into the army of Cap- tain Jesus. With some help, I got a hall into which to gather the children and others. One of the first obstables to be over- come was the bare-legged, bare-footed, and bare-headed condi- tion of the poor children, rendering them unfit for promiscuous- ly assembling ; and it was astonishing, too, how little the sleek, fat, easy church-going people knew of the terribly squallid con- dition of the poor children in the city. I went to work begging old clothes, hats, caps, and shoes, and new cloth when I could get it, to make up for them. We formed a circle of ladies for charity sewing, which met at my house every week. My wife, being a milliner and dressmaker, used to cut the garments, and the good ladies made them up, and in a short time we got them clothed so neatly that they were not ashamed to go to meeting, and our hall filled up so that we had not room enough for all. In the morning I preached temperance to them, not in great jaw-breaking words to make their eyes stick out and wonder, and for two reasons : first, I could not wear Goliath's big coat if I wanted to. I remember Deacon Cole came in to see how I got on with my big family, as I was making a speech to the HOW I WORKED IT. 163 children. I told the deacon that David once tried it, and it was no go ; but when he got to the brook, he took a stone and put in his sling and hit old Goliath plump in the forehead and brought him down, and in that scrape Goliath got something new in his head. And the second and chief reason was, that I don't believe in any such way of reaching men's hearts. Paul says, 'I had rather speak five words with my understand- ing that I may teach others also, than ten thousand words in an unknown tongue.' So I told them my experience, how I used to get drunk and disgraced myself and wife, and went hungry and cold, and was despised, and how I wanted to leave off, and how rumsellers and old chums would get me to take one drink with them, and then down, DOWN, DOWN" I went into the gutter ; and then how God helped me at last when I prayed to Him, and had kept me by His grace out of the clutches of rumsellers. Now I was happy, my wife was happy, and my child was happy, and we had enough to eat, good clothes, and got into good Christian company, and was respected. Drinking men would sit and listen, and begin to cry, and come to me when I was done, and tell me they were tired of living so, and wanted to leave off; and sometimes I would cry with them and for them, I could not help it ; and then they would get hold of my hand and ask me to pray for them; and they would sign the pledge, get steady work, good clothes for their families, and get out to church with them and get converted, and they would be- gin to catch men by telling them their experience. So the good work went on. Reader, this is the way to catch men. When a man forgets alt about how much or how little he knows, and begins to tell others how he was saved just as well as he can with a warm heart, the leaven begins to work, and his experi- ence, told in this simple way, becomes the wisdom of God and the power of God unto the salvation of his hearers. Persecu- tors are thrown off their guard in this way, and the gospel-hook gets such hold that you can pull them right in. In going through the city I saw many sad sights. I remem- 164 ^ IIARD CASE BEACHED. bcr of finding in a place called Dudley's block four children locked in a room with a little bed of straw in the corner, with- out chairs or other furniture aside from an old broken stove, and a few odds and ends of crockery. I talked with them through the window ; they were hungry and nearly as naked as when they came into the world, and they told me their mother was at work in the mill and would be out at noon, at which time I went again and saw the mother, and found the children were fatherless, and the poor mother with poor health was drag- ging herself back and foi-th to the mill, when she was hardly able to be off her bed, to get bread to put into the mouths of her little ones. I went with a friend whom I called to witness the scene of wretchedness, and got some chairs, clothing, and food, and took to this poor family. The mother and children followed me to the door, blessing me until I got out of hearing. Truly this is real gospel ; and will it not be said at last, ' In- asmuch as ye have done it unto one of these little ones, ye have done it unto me.' It seemed as though devils that others could not cast out would be brought to me. One gentleman who ran a shoe-shop said he had a good workman who was an awful drunkard, and if I would make a sober man of him, he would believe. Mr. N. pointed him out to me from the other workmen, and I went into the workroom and introduced my- self to him, and told him some of my history, how hard it was for me to leave off drinking, but I had got the victory. It seemed to wake him up ; but he said it was no use for him to try to do anything ; his wife had left him, etc., and he was too far gone. I told him if he would sign the pledge I could get his wife back; that he could leave it off; God would help, and his wife would help him. "Well, he says, if you will get my wife to come back I will sign the pledge. I told him to sign first and I would take it to her and show her what he had done ; she was then boarding in the city. He signed the pledge and passed it to me. I told him to put on his coat and come along. We went to the place where she stopped and took a ALL RIGHT NOW. seat in the waiting-room, and a servant went for her. When she came into the room she seemed much surprised. I arose and said, Mrs. , shall I introduce you to Mr. , who has signed the pledge. She sat right down, hardly able to speak a word, and began to feel of her apron, taking hold of it with botli her hands, fin- gering the hem and nervously passing it through from one side to the other. I told her how God would help them both, and how happy they would get along, and I was sure her husband would keep the pledge, and soon she began to melt, and they began their cooing like young doves. I seized my hat and ran away, and left them in this happy state. This was a genuine reform, and he has kept the pledge from that day to this. My friend, Mr. N., now believes. Well, go on Mr. N., many be- lieve and have not seen. 16G SEE A KING UP A RUM-SHOP. CHAPTER XXV. ONE more item connected with ray missionary work here I will relate. A Mr. Higginbottom, whom we got to sign the pledge, and was true for some time, was induced by two broth- ers, who kept a rum-shop near a church in the city, to go in. They at last got him to take one glass, and then all his old ap- petite revived and he drank until he got intoxicated, and then they kicked him out into the street, and he was taken by the police to the station, where, during the night, when he began to come to himself and see what he had done, he was so filled with remorse that he took his knife and cut his throat. The keepers got the knife from him until he sobered off, and the terrible gash was sewed up. I was notified and went to the station, and the poor fellow gave the knife to me all covered with blood (which 1 now keep), and told me all about it. The next evening I attended the church near by, and the brethren prayed this rum-shop might be removed, and, feeling inspired to do so, I jumped up, and told them the rum-shop never would be removed until they put their shoulder to the wheel and helped to remove it. I think it was the next day when I left my house I prayed and said, *O God, help me this once to put my shoulder to the wheel and stop this rum-shop.' These brothers that kept this rum-hole were both professional fighters, and the people seemed afraid to meddle with them. On I went to the place, the spirit of the Lord with me strengthening me, and I entered. One of the brothers stood behind the counter, and the other was out. I went up to him and told him not to stir out of his tracks, if he did I would shake him out of his POUNDING TEMPERANCE INTO A RUMSELLER. 167 boots. I went behind the counter and smashed the decanters and one or two jugs of liquor, and kicked over the counter and found a very large jug under the counter full of whisky, which I seized and took under my arm, and walked out amidst a crowd that had gathered, and pulling out the stopper let it spill along the street until it was emptied, the people cheering me as I went along. The poor rumseller remaining like- one spell-bound in his den. I then returned and asked him how much damage I must pay. He said nothing. I am glad you have done it. On returning home I fell in with a friend who passed along up Alfred street with me, and who should we meet but the other brother, who asked me what I meant by spilling his liquor, and said he would knock as much out of me. I said you can't do that, as I have had none inside of me for three years. He struck me in the face and knocked me round, and before I re- covered struck me again upon the other cheek. My friend told me I must spunk up, or he would get the better of me. I told my friend that the good book said, ' When thou art smitten upon one cheek turn the other also ; ' but it did not say what I must do after that, so here goes. He came upon me again, and I knocked him down, hoping that brief argument would con- vince him of his mistake ; but he up and made for me again. I gave him a second knock-down argument, and as he lay across the side-walk with his head hanging over it, he being a very large strongman, I concluded a few inferences drawn from these strong points already made, and well laid over his head, would bring on a strong conviction of his errors, and change him for the better; so I jumped upon him with one knee on his breast and one hand hold of his throat, and gave him a few ' arousements ' over his head and ears, until he sued for mercy. 1 told him I would let him up when he promised me solemnly he would leave off rum-selling. This he finally concluded to do, and took the pledge before God and me and my friend never to sell liquor again. This was the first and last time that I ever hammered tern- 168 DOJvr ADrrsK ALL TO DO so. perancc into a rumscllcr ; and it made mo think of Rev. Peter Cart wright, that muscular oil Methodist saint. A blacksmith of great physical strength attacked him one Sunday when on his way to his appointment, and said he would hammer him to death if he did not stop his d d proselyting work. The g->od old man knocked him down, and cuffed him until he promised to become a Christian, and the minister said over the Lord's prayer, and made the blacksmith repeat it after him, until he could say it all. In brief, he converted the blacksmith, and he joined the Methodist church, and used to laugh afterward about Elder Cartwright's pounding the gospel into him. This rum- seller did leave the business and became ray fast friend, and I afterward got him a good pkce in Portland where he could Avork and earn an honest living. I don't advise people to this way of reforming men, but there was once a time when the loving Jesus made a scourge of small cords and went at the money-changers and drove them out of the Temple. The good work went on, and my labors were sometimes very perplexing, especially when I came to the money matters. I found a lot of Mr. Wish wells and Mrs. Hopewells, but the fam- ily of Do wells were not so numerous. It is said, ' Money makes the mare go,' and a truer saying never was uttered than that, of missions. It took a good deal of cash to carry my mission along, and I had a good chance to learn human nature on this O 7 O matter. Some lessons I will give, and if I should hit anybody, I hope it will hurt as well as hit, and the poor stingy souls will never get over it until a gospel blister is drawn deep enough to let off some of their covetousncss. Really it seems to me if such professors could see just how they look as others see them, they would go into hysterics, like the girl that saw herself the first time she ever saw a looking-glass. Her parents were poor, and in addition to their poverty had religious objections to look- ing-glasses. They moved into a village, and sent the little girl, who was ragged, dirty, and hair uncombed, to a neighbors, and ONE OR TWO MISSIONARY INCIDENTS. 1Q9 as she entered the house she came in contact with a mirror, and beholding her own face, she screamed and ran home, declaring to her parents that she had seen the devil, and when she de- scribed him they at once saw the point. If I should hold up a glass and any one should say, after they look into it, they had seen the devil, I should say at once, no, no, it was only a re- flection. Here is one funny little thing Avhich was the result of a mis- apprehension, and was apologized for immediately on finding out the mistake. I had been out begging old clothes, and had a large bundle on my back given me by good souls around the town, and I entered the front yard of a gentleman of large in- fluence and means to get more clothing, and I met the proprie- tor on the front steps, who immediately challenged me before I had time to tell him my errand, and with a terrible growl or- dered me to go about my business, supposing me to be a pack- peddler, which class of persons he always held in abhorrence. His wife told him that he treated the city missionary rather rough. He was all taken aback when he learned that, and sent for me and made a very gentlemanly apology, and had a good laugh at it, so I did not kill him for driving me off. One time, when collecting clothing for the children, I called at a clothing-store which was run by two very pious men, and told them what others had given, and asked them to help a little ; they got some small hats that were out of style, and a few yards of cloth and gave me. This they afterwards charged to me, and also six dollars which they handed to a friend after- wards for the support of what was called the Evening Free School, because I was so unfortunate as to be in his company at the time. They afterwards sued me for these things and the six dollars given to another man, and I was brought before the court and judgment found against me. Here I was in a fix without a dollar, and the only witness I had to disprove a part at least was in the army. I had no great desire to go to jail, but then good old Paul had been in prison, and I concluded I could 170 AFFIDAVIT. stand it. God opened the way for me out of this. The friends who felt ashamed for them subscribed the cash on the spot, even the judge opened his purse and helped. It was a foul blot. I will not name the mean men, but I will here introduce the affidavit of the man who received the six dollars instead of myself. BOSTON HARBOR, MASS., GALLOTJP'S ISLAND, ) Nov. 29th, 1864. \ In the winter of 1859, 1 received six dollars from Mr. Daniel Stimpson, in the city of Biddeford, Maine, as a charity gift for a mission school, called the ' Evening Free School,' Mr. I. W. Ambler standing at my side at the time. Mr. Ambler did not borrow the money of the aforesaid D. Stimpson. In proof of which I hereby affix my name, GEORGE H. BLAKE. Subscribed and sworn to before me, at Galloup's Island, B. H., this 29th day of November, 1864. D. T. CORBIN, Capt. 13th Regt. Vet. Res. Corps, Judge Advocate. I would not of course call any names, but I dare not mutilate the affidavit, and if anybody should suspect the name of the firm from anything contained in that, it would be a most unfor- tunate thing. During my work in Biddeford I found, at what is called Smith's Corner, in a wretched old house, a family consisting of a grandmother and two motherless children in a sad condition of poverty. The children about six and eight years old, a boy and girl. When the mother died, she gave them to the grandmother, who had maintained them by going out at washing until the poor woman's health had given way. The children had no other bed than a pile of old rags in one corner of the room. They were nearly naked. The poor old lady told me the sad tale of their suffering and poverty. With her consent, I took the two children into the street, concluding their nakedness and ema- ciated forms would constitute a living epistle so eloquent that THE POOR FAMILY BLESSED. my lips would hardly need to be opened in their behalf. I met several Christian men, and asked for something for them and the aged and sick grandmother. I was turned off at first with the request to go to one L. B. and state my case, or rather theirs. This man was noted for his note-shaving and money-loving na- ture, and I suppose these good men thought these little living sermons would be vain with him; at any rate it seemed to me that they thought this would be a test case. I went to my fdend L. B. and stated the facts, and with a tear in his eye he said, 'Ambler, I believe you,' and drew his wallet and gave me five dollars and told me to call on him for more if it was needed ; and here let me say, I never went to him in vain, while many who mouth the heavens with their prayers gave me the cold shoulder. The first ones after my success with L. B. helped like good men, and I soon had them nicely clothed and led them back to the good old grandmother, who hardly knew them, their good clothes and clean faces so changed them. She cried for joy, and blessed me again and again. The poor old lady was not for- gotten, and was made comfortable. This poor little girl had often tried to get work in the mill, but had been repulsed with the remark, * you are too small.' Oh, how it brought back to me my own struggles when a child. Her condition was so like mine, mother dead and her father a di-unkard, and the poor child often crying for bread. Here is a bit of poetry that tells the loneliness and sorrow of such better than I can describe it: Out in the gloomy night, sadly I roam, I have no mother dear, no pleasant home ; Nobody cares for me, no one would cry Even if poor little Bessie should die. Barefoot and tired, I've wandered all day Asking for work, but I'm too small they say ; On the damp ground I must now lay my head, 'Father's a drunkard, and mother is dead.' 172 SPILLING THE RUM. Cliorus Mother, oh ! why did you leave me alone, With no one < o love me, no friends and no home ; Dark is the night, and the storm rages wild, God pity Bessie, the drunkard's lone child. We were so happy till father drank rum, Then all our sorrow and trouble begun ; Mother grew paler, and wept every day, Baby and I were too hungry to play. Slowly they faded, and one summer's night Found their dear faces all silent and white; Then with big tears slowly dropping I said : ' Father 's a drunkard, and mother is dead.' Chorus Oh, if the temperance men only could find Poor, wretched father, and talk very kind, If they could stop him from drinking, why, then I should be so very happy again ; Is it too late? ' men of temperance ' please try, Or poor little Bessie may soon starve and die. All the day loug I've been begging for bread, ' Father 's a drunkard, and mother is dead.' Chorus Many cases of the kind might be named, but space will not permit. But I must not, I will not leave out one other case. Soon after the case above named, one night, after I had gone to bed, there came a knock on my door. I called to know what was wanted. Was told that a woman who was very sick and who lived on Emery's lane wanted to see me. I dressed and went down, and found in the front room a bar where liquor was kept for sale. I was shown into the kitchen, where lay the sick woman. She asked me to pray with her. I told her I could not pray with that liquor in the house. She said, I shall loose my soul if it is not taken away. I asked her if I should destroy it. She said, yes. I rolled the cask out into the back- yard, and, taking an axe, knocked in the head and let it run. An old covy came along, caught up a dish and dipped up what he could in the yard and drank it. I then went in and prayed MAECHING WITH THE SUNDAY SCHOOL. 173 with the woman, and she found some peace. The next day Mr. K. gave me a team, and I took the woman and moved her to Mrs. , who took care of her until she got better. I then went and told the Rev. Mr. Tenney of her case. He called and prayed with her, and she soon came fully into the kingdom, and finally joined his church and became a shining light. She moved to Lawrence, and soon sent to him some money to be used as he thought best. Rev. Mr. T. called on friend H. and asked what had better be done with it, and he suggested putting it into a corner-stone of a new church as a memorial of a convert's first offering to the Redeemer's cause, which was done. Brother Tenney, God bless him, never failed to go to the call of the poor when I made known any case of the kind to him. God blessed me in my work, and a goodly number found the pearl of gi-eat price. Our Sunday school was a joy to us all. We had some of the sweetest little sing- ers I ever heard among them, and, during my labors, we gave some interesting exhibitions, and I must say I never felt so big in my life as I did when marching at the head of a company of 200 children to our Sabbath-school exhibition, who had been picked up and clothed and trained in the way of righteousness. During my work in Bkldeford I felt the need of education, and I wanted funds to help me to books and schooling, and as my life and former history had been made known to some of my friends, they suggested the idea of my publishing my biog- raphy, it being such a checkered one I might realize a sum from that which would secure the funds I needed. I followed their advice and found a very good sale for my book, and was get- ting together funds for that purpose, when the terrible rebellion broke out ; this was nearly a year after I began my missionary efforts in Biddeford. 174 LEAVING THE MISSION FOR THE DRILL-ROOM. CHAPTER XXVI. I WAS in Boston, selling my book, on that memorable 13th of April, 18G1, when the rebels fired on Fort Sumter. Rev. A. L. Stone and the editor of the JSoston Journal sug- gested to me, that having been a drill-sergeant in the English army, it was my duty to leave all book and missionary work, and enter at once on the work of instructing our men in mili- tary tactics, to prepare them for the battle of freedom and union. I abandoned my book sale, putting it in charge of my wife, and on the 15th of April, I formed the Young Men's Christian Association of Boston into a drill club, and gave them their first lesson. I believe it was right to teach the disciples how to use the sword, although as a means of reform it might not be justified; but there were times in the Saviour's day, after the disciples had showed their faith and meekness by turning the other cheek when smitten on the one, and taking no purse nor scrip; when they should take their purse if they had one, and arm themselves too. Luke 22: 35, 36, 'And he said unto them, when I sent you without purse and scrip and shoes, lacked ye anything ? and they said, nothing. Then said he unto them, but now he that hath a purse let him take it and likewise his scrip ; and he that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one.' It was a waste to have a sword and not know how to use it, and it shows that there are times that a disciple is better off without a coat than he would be without a sword. And this time of rebellion seemed to me to be the time for Christian men to buckle on the armor and fight for God and humanity. TESTIMONIALS. 175 When I went to Boston to sell my book, I took some letters along, so that the good people had something besides my face in which to see my character, which papers secured for me the ears of the Governor of Massachusetts and others, when I opened on them for halls, etc., for training recruits. I will only give one or two of them. BIDDEFORD, Dec. 8, 1859. This may certify, that Mr. Isaac "W. Ambler has been em- ployed during nearly a year, by the Evangelical churches in this city as a city missionary, and has sustained an excellent character. He has the entire confidence of this Christian com- munity. He is very anxious to educate himself for the ministry, and for this purpose is now engaged in selling his own biogra- phy. This book, I have no doubt, is an authentic account of a life full of incident and adventure. I commend Mr. Ambler to the kind sympathies of all the friends of Christ. Signed, CHAS. PACKARD, Pastor of the 2d Cong. Church. I most sincerely concur in all the statements of the above certificate, and cheerfully commend Brother Ambler to the favorable notice of all. H. B. ABBOTT, Pastor of the M. E. Church, Biddeford. 1 hereby concur in the above. P. JAQUES, Pastor of the M. E. Church, Saco. BIDDEFORD, Dec. 8th, 1859. Mr. Isaac W. Ambler, for a year past, has devoted his time and energies to missionary labor among the poor of this place, and especially to soften the hardships of the poor children, col- lecting for them, with untiring diligence, and dispensing with good judgment clothing, so as to bring them in classes into the 176 THE USE OF THEM. Sunday school, and to enable them to go to the public schools decently clad. Mr. Ambler is a conscientious, good man, I verily believe, self-sacrificing and charitable in the best sense of the word. His life has been somewhat adventurous, so that in order to help himself to a home he has caused a book of narra- tive of his life to be published, which I hope will afford him some profit. AUGUSTIXE HAINES, Agent of the Laconia Mills. Being a stranger in Boston, or nearly so, such letters at once gave me a hearing, and also secured for me the confidence of the people. F. B. Wentworth (God bless his big heart !) bought me a full military suit and gave it to me, so I could put on military airs n*j once. It was of great use in stirring up young America, and oH America too ; as I found the old boys paying as much de- ference to my epaulettes as the younger ones. Thus accoutred, I went upon the street. Our flags were flying from every part of the city, and upon State street there was great excitement, and everybody was out talking over the state of things. Notice was given out that Fletcher Webster, the son of the great Dan- iel Webster, was going to speak from the balcony of the old State-house. This was on Sunday, and the crowd surged in that direction. Some of the boys that I had been drilling when they saw me in my soldier rig, made a rush for me, and took me right up and carried me on their shoulders to the State-house, and walked up the steps with me on their shoulders on to the balcony, amid the shouts and cheers of the multitudes. This was pretty good for Ambler, I thought, for who was poor me to be lionized in such a way, ignorant as I was, never having been to school a day in my life. It almost knocked the wind out of my sails to think of it, of speaking to such a crowd. When Webster got through, they sung out for Sergeant Am- bler. Of one thing I was sure, viz., thr.t if I did not understand how to speak grammatically, I did understand military matters SPEECH FROM OLD STATE-HOUSE. SPEECH AT THE STATE-HOUSE. 177 as well as the best of them, and this put me at ease, and at the same time I felt that God would help me. I took for my sub- ject Christian Heroism, and the duties of the hour. I told them, although I was an Englishman by birth, I was then an American by adoption. That I had suffered oppression in my fatherland by those invested with a little power, who exercised it to the very letter. In this land of freedom, your forefathers fought for that independence of which you and I now boast. The Duke of Wellington was my commander-in-chief in 1842, when I joined the English army. The iron duke was the hero of a hundred battles. Napoleon Bonaparte Avas the king of warriors in the European world ; but these two illustrious gen- erals dwindle into insignificance when compared with your illustrious Washington. They fought for despotism, he for lib- erty and equality lor all men. I then pointed to the flag above us, and told them I had fought for the union-jack, but now I would fight for the stars and stripes so long as God would give strength to my good right arm. Your country is my country, where you go I will go, as you are ready to pour out your life- blood for this union, undivided, now and forever, so am I ready to pour out my blood to keep that good old flag from trailing in the dust ; and to preserve this glorious union, this best form of government the world ever saw, where every man is a king, and a king is but a man. At this point I did not know but. they would all run wild. They shouted and cheered, and threw their hats into the air as if they never cared whether they ever had another hat or not. There was something in the very air on the occasion, in everything about us, that would almost make a dumb man eloquent. I will not say that I was elo- quent, and I am sure I would not say I was not, for I have some religious objections to lying; but one thing is sure, the steam was up ; the old American war-horse snuffed the battle, and not very far off. But enough as to my speech. It pained some of my friends to hear of my speaking to a crowd upon the perils and duties 12 178 RUSHING MATTERS IN THE DRILL. of the hour on the Sabbath, and Major Sturgis wrote me a letter expressing his regret at this step; he also thought I had better not get outsiders into the drill-room with the Young Men's Christian Association, it was mixing things up too much. Well, I was sorry to offend such a good man. I told him it would not do. We had a big job on our hands, and we musl have all the boys we could reach inside and out to finish it up. lie afterwards saw and acknowledged I was right, and wa& nn unllinching, faithful friend, and often felt for me clear down into his breeches pocket. At this time the numbers multiplied so who wanted to learn the drill, that I had not room for them at the Young Men's Christian rooms, and I went to see the governor for accommo- dations. He told me to go to the postmaster, and tell him to let me have the hall over the post-office, which I secured ; and in the mean time, several other gentlemen got another hall on Washington street, and Deacon Robert furnished another, so the ball was rolling good. In these rooms I worked from five A. M. until ten p. M., drill- ing the different squads of men. Some of the rooms were for officers, and some for privates. I was so much on my feet, drill- ing men in the broad-sword and bayonet exercise and march- ing, that my feet became swollen so I could not put on my boots, and often worked in my stocking-feet. At this time, Mr. Dwight came to me, and wanted me to aid his son (who was then stationed at Staten Island) to raise three hundred men to fill up his regiment. I went to work with all the energy I possessed to raise the men. I thought I would try a little of the old style to rope in the old country boys; so I got an Irishman and put a military suit on him, and put ribbons on his hat, and furnished him with a fifer and drummer, and the trio went down to Haymarket square, and through among the shipping offices, and the boats where they would be likely to find the boys, and in this way we soon got up a regular military fever, and in less than a week I got the three hundred men to LETTERS OF COMMENDATION. 179 fill up Colonel Dwight's regiment. Dwight was lieutenant-colo- nel at the time, and on the receipt of this addition, making a full compliment of men for his regiment, he was made colonel. Captain Bugbee, in this regiment, whom I had aided in filling his company, expressed his gratitude for my services in the fol- lowing letter. Co. H., 1st Regt., > CAMP SCOTT, June 29th, 1861. ) BROTHER AMBLER: Dear sir, I take a spare moment to thank you for your kind- ness and the services you rendered me. We are here and at home. "Well received and kindly treated. Colonel Dwight is a fine man, a good officer, and well beloved by all, and we are all happy we are here ; my company musters ninety-two men, and I expect to have one hundred inside of the next twenty- four hours. Edlesson, who was sergeant but now second lieutenant, wishes you to have those instructions in the sword written off for him. With friendship, Capt. W. H. BUGBEE. The captain had good reason to feel obliged, for I had drilled him and also his company, either in person or by proxy. Per- haps I ought to explain what I mean. I had so many men and officers under instruction, that I would give a sergeant a lesson and send him to the company to give the same lesson. This is what I mean by drilling by proxy. I furnished my own swords and other drill articles with the exception of muskets, and those I obtained by such letters as the following: BOSTON, May 2, 1861. To ADJUTANT-GENERAL SCHOULER: Dear Sir, I have known Mr. I. W. Ambler for some time, and have all confidence in his integrity. Any arms the depart- 180 BRITISH DRILL CLUBS. ment may commit to his care, I have no doubt will be both properly cared for and accounted for. Very truly, HEXRY HOYT, WILLIAM R. STACY, ( 'HAS. H. PARKER, CHAS. W. BABCOCK. I got up a company of Englishmen who afterwards went to the front, and made many a rebel bite-the dust. These fellows were true as steel and were well drilled, and no Yankee was more earnest and true. Some of the old British formality still clung to them, as the reader may see by the note which they usually sent me on drill nights, which I here insert. BOSTON, June 11, 1861. I. W. AMBLER, ESQ. Sir, The members of the Boston British Drill Club are to meet to-night in Revere Hall, Bowdoin square, at eight o'clock precisely. Your attendance is earnestly requested, therefore please fail not. By order, Clerk pro tern. P. S. Any friends you may know interested in the cause in- vite them to meet with us and enroll their names, as we shall be happy to have an augmentation to our numbers. These men were converts to the good cause made by my big speech from the balcony of the State-house on that memorable Sunday. I might as well call it a big one, for it was about a big thing, if the rhetorical flourishes were lacking, and it bore fruit that the rebs found rather hard to take v I drilled Colonel Webster and some of his officers of the 4th Mass. Vol., who soon left for the seat of war. For several months I toiled in the old Granite State, giving myself hardly time for food and sleep. The papers had con- siderable to say about my work at this time. Here is a little sample from the Boston Journal of June 5, 1861 : PAPER SQUIBS. BOSTON AND VICINITY, June 5, 1861. SERGEANT AMBLER AND nis LABORS. In justice to true merit we feel called upon to s;iy that no one iu our city has done, or is doing, more to inculcate a military sentiment among our people than our patriotic fellow citizen, Mr. Ambler. Leav- ing the pulpit for the drill-room, he has given his whole time, without remuneration, to the instruction of recruits; laboring incessantly for their benefit and for the cause, regardless alike of fatigue and personal comfort. Mr. Ambler is an accomplished military tactician, having seen long service, and is equally at home with the musket, bay- onet, or broadsword ; and to him is due not a little of the skill of some of the officers of the Massachusetts Volunteer Militia in the use of the sword. To thorough experience in all branch- es of the military, he unites gentlemanly deportment and a felicitous manner of conveying his knowledge to others. His positions are classic and faultless, which, with his agility, gives him a wide range of personal defense. He now has a large class receiving daily instructions in the broadsword exercise, and although no one scholar has taken more than six lessons, yet a remarkable progress has been made, and the proficiency manifested fully attests the ability of Mr. Ambler. The highest terms of praise are bestowed by his pupils, who would take great pleasure in seeing him at the head of a mili- tary school upon a much larger scale, under the patronage of the State, which is due not less to the personal sacrifices he has made for the cause than to the acknowledged ability which he brings to the business. On reading such squibs, the people in Maine began to feel as though they had some claims that a ' white man was bound to respect,' as I was a resident of that State, and letters came pouring in upon me, to go down and help them whet up things and show them 'how fields were won.' 182 GOING TO CAMP PREBLE. CHAPTER XXVII. THE Sixth Maine were in camp at Camp Preble, and the fol- lowing officers sent me an invitation to come and drill them in the broadsword and bayonet exercise, and the word of com- mand : Col. Hiram Burnham, Capt. M. "W. Brown, Capt. James Snowman, Capt. Benjamin F. Harris, Maj. Frank Pierce, Capt. Charles Day, Lieut. B. J. Buck, Lieut. W. Buck, Capt. W. H. Stanchfield, Adj. John D. McFarland, Lieut. Otis W. Kent, Lieut. George P. French, Lieut. II. B. Strout, Lieut. John M. Lincoln, Lieut. George Roberts, Lieut. W. P. Wardwell, Lieut. G. C. Poor. On the 9th of July, I went to Camp Preble,. and commenced my labors drilling the whole regiment. The officers insisted upon my going to the front with them, assuring me that I should receive the same pay and fare that they received from govern- ment. I decided to go with the regiment and instruct them, and share with them the fortunes of war. I intended to have enlisted and be mustered in with the rest of them. I got a pass from the colonel to spend a couple of days with my family at Biddeford, and, while at home, orders came from Washington to march at once, and the regiment was mustered in before I reached the camp, which accounts for my name not appearing on the muster-roll as an enlisted soldier, which afterwards proved most unfortunate for me, as will appear hereafter. On getting news that orders had come to go to the front, I hastened back to camp, accompanied by my good wife and little boy. As the regiment had no drum-major, I assumed the position, and we broke camp, and came into Portland, my wife and boy trudging along by my side. THE PARTING SCENE AT THE DEPOT. 183 When coming over Bramhall hill we met an old man, who gave me the first meal of victuals after my escape from the Eng- lish army into the States. The poor old fellow threw up his hands and cried right out, and said, 'Sergeant Ambler, you are gone, you are gone, you'll never come back,' and this set wife and boy to crying, and I confess to a rising in my throat that made me a little uneasy; but I hushed them as well as I could, and told them God would take care of me wherever I went; but it was pretty hard. Civilians often have witnessed these partings; but they cannot know anything of the emotions that heave the heart of the husband and father, when he is leaving wife and children for the field of carnage. I had seen such parting scenes in the old world ; but when I sailed away from old England for the Mediterranean, I was a poor orphan, caring for nobody and nobody cared for me, and I could not realize anything of the anguish that wrings the husband and father's heart until now. I was trying to comfort wife, but I needed ten men to keep the lumps down in my throat. It is said, mis- ery loves company ; but I don't believe it, for there were hun- dreds of friends following their dear ones to the depot, and it only made me feel worse to see so many crying around us. Lit- tle did we know who the angel of death was fluttering over, and who were shaking hands for the last time, to meet no more until Gabriel's trumpet calls us to judgment. The command came, 'All aboard,' and the Sixth Maine Volunteers rolled out of the depot for the seat of war, while the women and chilch-en were throwing kisses after us, and waving good-by with their handkerchiefs. Nothing of interest occurred until we arrived in New York, where we halted without leaving the steamer. * O A brief speech was made, and a beautiful silk banner was pre- sented by the sons of Maine. Colonel Knowles responded. We then proceeded to Philadelphia, where a splendid collation awaited us, of which the boys partook, with many a hearty 'God bless the Quaker city.' We took the cars at Philadelphia, and proceeded by the way 184 POISONING A T HA VRE-DE-GRACE. of Havre-de-grace, where wo were delayed several hours. At this place, a baker attempted to poison us by putting ground glass in the cakes and pies which he sold us. None of the men died from its effects, although some of them were severely in- jured. I had swallowed several mouth-fulls before I detected it by crunching it with my teeth. I spit it into my hand, and rubbed it in my fingers, and cut them with the fine particles of glass, and could see them in my hand. I showed it to Captain Snowman, who ran out and gave the alarm. One of the boys, in attempting to get past the guard, to get at the baker, caught his coat-sleeve on the cock of the gun, and the piece went off and shot him just below the left nipple. I took him into a house and got him into a bed. Hu told me what he wanted said to his friends, and how he died. I said to him, you are not going to die. You are not in half so much danger now as we are, who have been eating glass ; but I was mistaken. We stripped him and found the ball had passed through him, and he died in a few minutes. The boys were desperate. They found the bake-shop and the machine that he ground the glass with. They captured the rebel scamp and he got away, and while pursued, one of the regulars shot him through the back and killed him on the spot. The whole regiment loaded up to be ready for any event. We soon were rolling on for Baltimore. We marched through that rebel city in full expectation that blood would run before we got through. The colonel ordered me to the center of the regiment, to help protect the flag as it was borne aloft. The plug-uglies were on the sides of the street with bowie-knives, some of them drawn ; but the rascals saw by the white of our eyes that we meant business, and no violence was offered. We reached Washington late at night, July 19th, and no preparations had been made to 'fodder the flock,' and our haversacks were troubled with the contribution- box disease, viz., a terrible emptiness. We were quartered in an old hall where we laid down our weary limbs on the soft side of a hard floor, where we spent a sleepless night with SCENES CONNECTED WITH BULL BUN. 185 e.npty stomachs. The next morning, afW a lunch of bread and coffee, we took up our line of march for Chain bridge. For some reason, some of our baggage-wagons did not arrive, so that when we got there, about half of our men had to sleep on the ground or under the bushes, anywhere they could get. In the morning, we were awakened by the roar of cannon in the direction of Mannasas Junction and Bull Run. All through the day, heavy cannonading was going on. At night a courier arrived with dispatches, telling us that our troops had been routed, and the rebels were in full pursuit in the direction of our camp. This made the boys' eyes stick out, for it looked 1 ke business. Immediately company H. were hurried across tha Potomac to go on picket-duty. The next morning the straggling hosts began to arrive. In no part of the world did I ever see such a sight. Some of them were black as negroes, smutty, and stained with blackberries upon which the poor fel- lows had fed coming through the woods. Some with every bit of their shirts above their breeches entirely torn off, or hanging in shreds about them. Some old soldiers that had fought at Sevastopol, were crying with rage and sorrow like little chil- dren, and I cried myself on meeting them in this terrible plight, and could not help it. Oh, it was a sad day for the Union army, and the country. I picked up two Zouaves, and helped them into camp, who had been wounded. One had a terrible wound in the thigh from a bayonet, and the other with a ball in the leg. I saw our surgeon extract the ball, and also a piece of his pants that had been carried into the flesh with it. Others were re- treating towards Washington. The roads were blockaded with baggage wagons, ambulances, artillery, and all the paraphernalia of war. One very tall man from the same place thcit I came from, run his poor horse until he came to the blockade, and leaped off, and with every particular hair standing on end, rushed over broken carts, dying horses, and every incumbrance, and reached the capital long before his horse could arrive, as I was told. The scene of that disaster beggars all description, and 186 THROWING THE PLANK OFF CHAIN BRIDGE. God grant my eyes may never witness another such. The van- ity of some of our shoulder-strapped gentry met a terrible re- buff, and, in truth, I must say that the attempt of some of them to lay that Bull Run defeat on the men, showed an unfairness not warranted by facts. For some of these raw officers showed about as much fitness to command armies as a toad does for the duties of a plenipotentiary. Another, and painful illustration of the need of such instruction as I had been so long endeavor- ing to impart without remuneration, with the single hope of ren- dering some aid to my adopted country in her time of need. The Sixth Maine was the only regiment at this time at Chain bridge, and our duty was to hold it and prevent the victorious^ rebels from entering Washington in this direction. We had a o o whole company thrown across the Potomac, several miles out on picket, to give notice of the approach of the enemy. Cap- tain Mott's battery was stationed on the bluff, commanding the bridge, so as to rake the enemy on their approach. I suggested to Captain Mott that a cavalry, dashing at full speed, might effect a crossing, and we had better take up every other plank on the bridge, and this would not hinder our troops from using it, and we could mow down all the rebs they could crowd on to it on foot, with our grape and canister. Colonel Burnham and Captain Mott ordered every other plank taken up and thrown into the Potomac, which was done by our men in double-quick. That relieved us from any fear from the enemy's cavalry. There was a large brick building at the end of the bridge, on the Virginia side, that might serve as a cover for the rebels on their approach, to which \ve paid our compliments. The bat- tery, with solid shot and shell, plowed through the walls, tear- ing away the brick and stone, until it came down with a crash. We remained in possession of tho bridge for some three weeks before we crossed in force into Virginia. About every night the alarm was sounded, and these shrill blasts of the bugle, ringing out on the night-air, would bring us to our feet in a SPORT WITH THE CHAPLAIN. 187 trice ; but the enemy did not appear in force. The alarms were occasioned by the firing of some rebel scouts at some of our pickets. This business was much harder for me than if we had been in battle. Our officers and men were feverish with anxie- ty to get on in their drill, and I made long days drilling them in the broadsword and bayonet exercise, which every military man understands is the hardest work done. Part of the time on picket in addition to this, and then sleeping on the ground after such exercise through the day, stiffened me up, and brought me a good deal under the weather. "We were hard up for grub, and suffered a good deal from the diarrhoea, brought on by eating such green stuff as we could pick up in the fields, small fruits, crab apples, etc. One Sunday our good chaplain preached us a very touching sermon, telling us that the Sixth Maine were the greatest cursors, the greatest swearers, and the greatest thieves on God's footstool. During the following week I went to him and told him I was starving hungry, and I must have some bread if I had to steal it ; and I told him I would get some bread, if he would get some meat, and we would have one good meal. He said he would do it. I went to an old Dutch woman's, and told her I wanted bread ; she said she had none. I told her I didn't believe it, and if she would not give it to me I would take it ; and she gave me two Johnny cakes, and I trotted back to camp, and found the chaplain had got five or six pounds of beef. I asked him how he got it, and he said it was none of my business where he got it. I told him that if God spared my life to get back to the State of Maine, I would tell them how the reverend gentleman stole beef down in Vir- ginia. He said, 'Ambler, if you do I will horsewhip you.' You had better believe, dear reader, that meat and bread tasted good, if the minister did steal it. About eight years after this, I met the parson in Portland, and sung out to him, 'there goes the chaplain that stole the beef in Virginia,' and he jumped right out of his wagon and horse- whipped me up Exchange street, and 1&8 THE SCRIPTURAL EXCUSE. that squared our accounts. We have both kept our word like good honest men that we are. I hope nobody will think either of us the worse for this, for we did it on the same principle that the disciples did when they 'began to pluck the ears of corn and to eat.' When the Pharisees saw it, they said 'Behold thy disciples do that which is not lawful to do on the Sabbath day.' The Master said unto them, 'Have ye not read what David did when he was a hun- gered, and they that were with him. How he entered into the house of God, and did eat the shew-bread which was not law- ful for him to eat, neither for those which were with him? Or have ye not read in the law, how that on the Sabbath days the priests in the temple profane the Sabbath and are blameless ? ' There, brother T , have I not been pretty good to you, after my horse-whipping, to make such a strong apology for your hooking the beef? But to return to the thread of our discourse, as the preach- ers say ; notwithstanding my hard work, I was on the look-out for everything that looked suspicious, and in reconnoitering down the river one day, I discovered some works thrown up by the rebels preparatory for mounting a battery during the night, about one mile below Chain bridge, on the Virginia side on a high bluff. I immediately notified Colonel Burnham, who sent a squad of men over the bridge to look after them. The rebels fled on the approach of our men. One Sunday Lieutenant Fur- long and myself started for Arlington, on the Virginia side, to see them operate the balloons, while reconnoitering with them. As we were trudging along through a piece of woods, I stopped to light my pipe, and the lieutenant got on a little distance ahead, when a small squad of rebels rushed upon him, and would have captured him if it had not been for his wonderful presence of mind. He sung out at the top of his voice, ' Come on, boys, here they are,' and they took to their heels for dear life. I ran to see what was to pay, and they were just disappearing over the hilL That was what I called a good Yankee trick. In a SKIKMISII WITH THE ENEMY. 189 day or two after this, General McLellan came up to reconnoiter, and gave his horse into my charge, and went over Chain bridge on foot to take a view of things, and when lie came back, lie called for three hundred men to go into Virginia on a scout. I asked the general if I could go with them. He said,' certainly? and I gave the horse again into his charge to go on the scout. He made us a neat speech at the bridge, and, giving him three rousing cheers, we started. We had been perhaps a half an hour in Virginia, when the boys commenced firing; but what the brave fellows saw to shoot I never knew, for I did not sec a reb. Nothing resulted from this tramp, and we returned to camp. A few days after this, our pickets found the rebels throwing up some works near a place called Langly, about five miles from Chain bridge. Lieutenant Fitzgerald, accompanied by Captain Mott's battery, marched at once upon them, and a brisk skir- mish commenced. Captain Mott opened upon them with some of his heavy guns. The rebels returned the fire from some of their pieces which they had got in position ; but our fire was too hot for them, and they commenced their retreat, leaving several of their dead on the field. Some of our men were wounded, but none of them killed. As soon as AVC had routed them effectually, and sent them skedaddling up the Lewinsville road, orders were given to limber up and return to the other side of the Potomac. I felt considerable interest in the success of Mott's battery, as I had something to do with drilling a por- tion of them, and one of the gunners (named Charlie Lynch) was an Englishman who had been in my company in the English army, and so I asked the lieutentant how Charlie behaved un- der fire. 'Oh,' said he, 'he. fought like a tiger.' Very soon after this, General McLellan sent orders not to fire a gun, as preparations were going on for the whole army to move into Virginia, and when everything was in readiness for the Union army to march, the firing of a cannon was to be the signal. 190 THE FIRST PRATER-MEETING. CHAPTER XXVII. AT this point, while the reader is waiting for our regiment Ho move on the enemy's works,' I will give some of the religious history of the Sixth Maine Volunteers while at Chain bridge. As a Christian, I felt as though we ought to find enough among us, who meant to serve the Lord, to make up a goodly number for a prayer-meeting, and so about the fourth day after we ar- rived at Chain bridge, I proposed to hold a prayer-meeting in the evening, to begin at early candle-lighting; and went through the streets of the camp and notified them that I would hold a prayer-meeting under a big elm tree within the lines. When the evening came, I took my Bible and went out to the old tree, and out of about eleven hundred men, five or six only came to the prayer-meeting. I told brother Strout, one of the privates present, that we had enough to claim the blessing. I stuck a bayonet into an old limb which was broken off the side of the tree, and put a candle in the socket, by the light of which I read a portion of God's word, and then called on good broth- er S to pray, and I tried to pray also. God blessed us both, and I tried to talk to them. No others took any part this first night. I gave notice that we would have a meeting at the same place the next night, and soon as I got through with the drill I would go throughout the camp and give notice of it. So as soon as I dismissed the men from the drill the next after- noon, I went all round and notified them, and to make sure of a congregation, I told them if they did not come to the prayer- meeting I would not drill them. I think I had over four hun- dred the next night. We used the old bayonet again for a can- dlestick, and I read God's word, and the Holy Ghost fell on us, SECOND MEETING BETTER STILL. 191 and it was one of the best prayer-meetings I ever was in. Some backsliders confessed, and a number got up and asked for pray- ers. One backslider told us he had praying parents down on the old Penobscot liver; that he had gone against them and hurt their feelings often; that he had once known the way and wick- edly backslidden, and wanted us to pray for him. He said, 'we are now facing the rebels and can almost see them eye to eye, and if he was shot down, he wanted to be prepared to meet his God.' And he came out happy; he said he never was so happy in his life. He was a great help to the meetings, and proved faithful during my stay with the regiment. Oh, it was a glori- ous meeting; they cried and shouted for joy. Yes, you dear, easy, old Christian, in your carpeted church, with your great organ, and splendid choir, and big sermon, you never had a better meeting, with all your rich surroundings, than we did with the green earth for our floor, and the starry canopy of heaven over our heads for a roof, and the dim old candle shed- ding its faint glimmer around. There was an awfulness, a grandeur, a wonderful glory that fell on us in melting power, producing such a nearness to God as many had never before known. These were the first prayer-meetings held in the army, and I had rather have the honor of instituting such a work than all the honors of wealth and ease. The next night I gave the same notice after drill, and our numbers increased, and the pow- er of God was with us. On the fourth evening, our chaplain came in with us, or rather up to the tree with us, and God spoke to us under the bush, if not out of it, and the chaplain got up and said, 'the Spirit of God is with you;' and I said, 'amen,' and brother Strout shouted 'hallelujah' at the top of his voice, and our chaplain poured out the truth among us with greater power than I ever heard him before. It was easy to speak. The wa- ters were troubled and hearts were in the mood to hear, and so hungry for this manna from heaven that they seemed to eat every word, as though tbqy felt it was God's bread fresh from heaven. And now, so much of the Holy Ghost was with us, A HARD SIGHT. that our good chaplain could discount considerable from the statements he made about us the first Sunday here. He began to see there was amongst us some wheat as well as chaff, and that we were not all ' the greatest curses and thieves on God's footstool,' and of those who were a little off the track then, there was hope if the good work went on. Our meetings continued to increase in numbers and interest, until a large part of the regiment that was not on picket duty would be pres- ent, and quite a number were converted, and a good number of backsliders were reclaimed. I was gloriously rewarded for the extra efforts I had made. I often drilled eight companies in the bayonet and skirmish exercise in a day, besides twenty offi- cers, giving them each separate lessons in the broadsword exer- cises, and then, after attending prayer-meetings, sometimes would go out on picket with the boys to spend the night; so you will see, ray reader, that I eat no idle bread. There was one little incident that occurred while here that touched me. One poor fellow was drowned in the canal, and was brought up and laid close to my tent, all covered with mud, and the flies were eating out his eyes and in his ears. I told the nurse (a good lady from Boston) that I knew he was a poor for- eigner, and I was afraid, if I should die or be killed, that that was the way I might be left in the filth, with the flies and mag- gots eating my poor body. She said, ' no, drill-master, I will see to it myself,' and she went and washed the poor fellow all up clean, and then put our new silk flag over him. I looked on him after this good Samaritan had laid him out, with the flag lying on his manly breast, and I said, 'it is enough, I am con- tent.' Coming back now to the movements of the regiment into Virginia, I will begin with the visit of President Lincoln to our camp, accompanied by Secretary Chase and Charles Sumner. I was drilling some of the officers in the broadsword exercise when the president arrived, who seemed to take great interest in it, and clapped me on the shoulder, and laughed and said, CATCHING THE SPY. 193 'that is very well done, very well done.' After the president had gone to see Captain Mott's battery, Lieutenant Furlong stepped up to me and said, 'that compliment from the president is a feather in your cap, drill-master.' On the arrival of the president and suite to the battery, Cap- tain Mott fired a salute. The good president, after examining our position, etc., talked with the soldiers, taking many of them by the hand and speaking to them and encouraging them to be true to the flag, and seemed like a father amongst his children. The president left amidst the cheers of the whole camp. The firing of the salute was taken as a signal along the lines for moving into Virginia, on account of the previous orders not to fire, and it made considerable confusion ; but things were soon explained to the satisfaction of the general, and Captain Mott was excused for this little blunder. A day or two after this, a negro who was employed to cook for some of the boys belong- ing to Mott's battery on the Virginia side of the Potomac, saw a man near the cook's tent that he knew, and sung out to him, 'How are you, Massa?' The man scowled upon him and said, ' Cuffee, you don't know me.' ' Yes, Massa, I knows you, de Lor' bless you, Massa; you specs I din know you, when dis here chile help you build de battery at Manassas Junction ? golly, Massa, dis chile spec's you done gone to de wrong place.' The boys began to smell a rat, and seized him and took him to General Smith's head-quarters. I met him when the boys were bringing him over Chain bridge and said to him, 'Well, old O O O * ' boy, we've got you.' I never saw a man look so savage as he did at me, and he swore like an old pirate. I told him the old darkey was too sharp for him to come prowling round our camp. On stripping him they found a complete plan of all our works sewed up in one side of his vest, and the poor old rebel was afterwards hung as a spy, I suppose. On the picket line a good many rebel prisoners were taken by our boys and brought in ; sometimes as many as twenty or thirty in a day. My labors were intense about this time, and the weather was 13 194 GETTING SUN-STRUCK. very hot. One day I had drilled several companies, through it practically, and then with the colonel crossed tho Potomac and went on to the picket line, and had a long tramp reconnoitering, and then came back to camp in the hottest part of the day. I found, on my return, that some of the officers of the Vermont regiment had called for me for a drill in the bay- onet exercise. I went out to drill them with a Zouave cap on my head, and gave them instructions, explaining and then go- ing through the exercise ; and while at it I was sun-struck, and fell to the ground. I knew nothing for some time, and when I came to myself there was a crowd around me who thought I was dead. I felt strangely, and put my hand to my head and took hold of my cap to pull it off, and all the hair came off the top of my head with my cap. When Colonel Burnham found me in this condition, he sent me to Washington, to the care of Hon. D. E. Somes, our representative from Maine, where I was kindly treated until I was able to return to the field. When I was on my way to Mr. Somes' I met a fellow towns- man (James Andrews) whose services in going for a doctor and medicine will ever be gratefully remembered. In a short time, I returned to the regiment, and continued my labors among the officers and men, whose improvement in the arts of war was very marked. In consulting the officers of the regiment and others, it was decided that I could accomplish ten times as much for the country in returning to the East, and giving in- struction to new regiments then forming, of officers and men, as it was possible for me to do as a private carrying the musket, especially since my being sun-struck ; and as my name was not on the muster-rolls, the reason for which I have before given, there would be nothing in the way of my doing so. I had got my trunk packed, and intended to bid good-by to the boys in a day or two, when orders came for the army to march into Virginia. I resolved to go with them into this fight. After crossing the Potomac, we deployed to the right and left, and threw up what was afterwards called Fort Ethan Allen. BURNING THE WOODS. 195 There was a long piece of woods at the left of the turnpike where the rebels went to cover, and from which they picked off a good many of our men. These woods were a little below Chain bridge, and extended several miles. Orders were given to cut down this forest, and thousands of men from the different regiments were detailed for the work. The boys worked with a will, and in an incredibly short time we had the fire sweeping over thousands of acres. The smoke had hardly cleared away when a courier arrived with dispatches, saying that the enemy were upon us in force, and our pickets were coming in. I wanted to see how our boys would behave under fire, and I resolved to go with them and share with them victory or defeat. Pretty soon our pickets began to come in, shouting as they arrived on the double quick, ' The rebels are upon us ! ' The long roll was beat, calling our men to arms. Some of our men were down on the banks of the Potomac, getting out the dead bodies of our boys, who had been shot by the rebs and thrown into the river. Colonel Burnham ordered me to go over to the river and rally the boys there, and he would fall in the regiment and be ready to march on my return. I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, and shouted to them as soon as I got in hearing, 'The rebs are upon us, and our pickets are driven in. Now is your time to strike for your country, and show what kind of stuff you are made of.' We struck a bee-line for the regiment. Passing a sentry, I seized his musket, telling him to get another, and sung out to the boys, ' Now men, I have showed you the theory of war, I will now show you the practical part.' They cheered and sung out, * Bully for Ambler.' The regiment had fallen in and were on the march as we came up. I rushed up to the picket line, and Captain Mott's battery came tearing along with twelve horses dragging one of his big guns, the others following, and I got so earnest for the fray, that I fell right in with the battery and rushed with them, until we found 19G A LITTLE SELF-ADULATION. ourselves face to face with the enemy, when we halted and un- limbered for action, and poure,! in our fire upon the rebel troops and some of his cavalry, our big gun cutting awful gaps in their ranks. For two hours there was fighting all along our lines, until we routed them. How many were killed and wound ed we never knew. We lost some men, and some were taken prisoners. We then returned to camp pretty well exhausted, and pretty well satis- fied with our day's work. Men never behaved better under fire than the Sixth Maine Volunteers. The day had been intensely hot. At night, it came on to rain, and the whole regiment had to sleep on the ground in the mud and water. Perhaps, reader, you may think Ambler puts himself pretty prominently into this picture. Well, if you think I am egotistical, you shall see what an eye witness had to say about it, and you must re- member, too, that I am writing about myself. Here is what was published in the Boston Journal at that time, referring to this event : SERGEANT AMBLER. The following extract from an army letter, contains some intelligence of a gentleman who will be remembered by many in this city as an accomplished drill-mas- ter. He has been connected with the Sixth Maine Regiment as an instructor, and was with them in the recent reconnoisance on Lewinsville. He writes thus: 'Accompanying the Sixth Maine Regiment was an Englishman, a teacher of the sword ex- ercise, well-known in Boston as a teacher of fencing and bayo- net exercise (I. W. Ambler), who stands at the head of his pro- fession, and has won the esteem of the whole regiment by his active and energetic disposition, and kind and generous nature ; and he showed himself to be a soldier, not only in theory but in reality. Although he had packed his trunk and made all due preparations for leaving for home, his term of engagement hav- ing expired, when the cannon began to boom, he took a musket from a sentry, and marched at the head of the regiment, saying, CAPT. STRONG'S ESCAPE. 197 * Come on boys, now is the time to show whether you can fight,' and led the way up to the pickets amid the cheers of the reg- iment, and cries of ' bully for Ambler.' The pervading spirit of the troops seems to be an eagerness for action, prevailing so powerfully, that even the sick will smuggle themselves into the ranks against the orders of the physician. With such a spirit pervading our army, what may we not expect as the result of the war, and what have we to fear ? ' No better fighting was done during the war, and there were instances of personal valor that would shed a lustre on the old Spartan days. As I was looking out for stragglers and others who had got separated from the main body next day, I met Captain Win. E. Strong, of the First Wisconsin Regiment, coming in covered with blood, with a hole shot in his cheek. He looked every inch a hero ; a strong, manly form, only twen- ty-two years old, who had rushed from College to the battle- field. He tells his own story better than I can, and I give it here as he gave it. ' As I was passing through a thicket I was surrounded by six rebel soldiers, four infantry and two cavalry; seeing I was caught, I thought it best to surrender at once, so I said, 'Gen- tlemen, you have me.' I was asked various questions as to who I was, where I was going, to what regiment I belonged, etc. all of which I refused to answer. One of the footmen -said, 'Let us hang the d d Yankee scoundrel,' and pointed to a convenient limb. Another said, * No, let us take him to camp and hang him there.' One of the cavalry, who seemed to be the leader said, ' We'll take him to camp.' They then marched me through an open place ; two footmen in front, and two in rear, and a cavalry man each side of me. I was armed with two re- volvers and a sword. After going some twenty rods, the ser- geant, who was on my right, noticing my pistols, commanded me to halt and give them up, together with my sword. I said, 'certainly, gentlemen,' and immediately halted. As I stopped they all filed past me, and of course were in front. 198 CAPT. STRONG'S ESCAPE. * We were at this time in an open part of the woods, but about sixty yards to the rear was a thicket of undergrowth. Thus everything was in my favor. I was quick of foot, and a passable shot. Yet the design of escape was not formed until I brought my pistol pouches to the front part of my body, and my hand touched the stocks. The grasping my pistols sug- gested my cocking them as I drew them out. This I did, and the moment I got command of them I shot down the two foot- men nearest me, about six feet, one with each hand, and ran for the thicket. The confusion of my captors was so great that I had nearly reached cover when they fired. One ball passed through my left cheek and out of my mouth. Another musket ball went through my canteen. The two cavalry separated, one to my right, the other to my left, to cut off my retreat. The remaining two footmen charging directly down on me. I turned and fired three or four shots, but the balls flew wild and on I ran, when I got over a small hillock and had nearly re- gained one of our pickets, I was headed off by both the mounted men. * The sergeant called on me to surrender. I gave no reply, but fired at him, and ran in the opposite direction. He over- took me, and just as his horse's head was nearly abreast of me, I turned and took good aim and pulled the trigger, but the cap snapped. At this time his carbine was unslung, and hold- ing it with both hands on the left side of his horse, he fired at my breast without raising the piece to his shoulder ; and the shot passed through the side of my coat and shirt just grazing the skin. The piece was so near as to burn the cloth about the size of one's hand. I then fired at him and brought him to the ground, hanging by his foot in the left stirrup, his horse galloping toward his camp. I saw no more of the other horseman on my left, nor of the footmen ; but, running on, soon came to our pickets, much exhausted from my exertions* and loss of blood.' Sure enough, with such a spirit as that we had a right to ex- SENTENCED TO BE SHOT. 199 poet a victory, and I think such daring should be written in letters of gold, and I say ' Hurrah for Captain Strong.' One more touching incident, of which I was an eye-witness, and with which I had something to do, I will describe before I leave the front. It was about this time that William Scott, a private of a Vermont regiment, while on sentry went to sleep ; and in this condition was found, and taken before a court-mar- tial, tried, found guilty, and was sentenced to be shot. I visit- ed the poor fellow in the guard tent, and said, ' William, I hope God has prepared you for the awful trial.' He was deep- ly moved. Tears ran down his sun-burnt cheeks. He looked at me a moment, and then looked up to heaven and said, ' If it is God's will that I must be shot, O God, thy will be done! Drill-master pray for me, and pray for me in your meeting to- night under the old elm tree.' I talked to him as well as I knew how, and got down on my knees by his side and prayed God to strengthen him ; but my heart was too full for utter- ance, and my feelings for my poor comrade found vent in tears much better than in words. We had his case mentioned un- der the tree in our prayer- meeting, and there were many groans and tears and prayers for poor Scott that night. We knew he was a good soldier, and never would have slept on his post if he had not been exhausted from heavy marching and overwork. When the day came for him to be shot, orders were given for twelve muskets to be placed in position, six of them to be loaded with balls, the others with blanks, and all capped ; and twelve men were detailed for the painful duty, each to select his gun, so that neither could know who had shed his comrade's blood. The men filed out, six on each side in a line, and William Scott in the centre. I took my place beside him, and orders were given, ' Attention, forward march.' As I walked by his side I told him to keep up good heart, and die like a soldier and a Christian. He held the Testament in both hands, looking down on it, and kept turn- ing one thumb over the other. I wanted to see if Americans 200 PARDONED BY PRESIDENT LINCOLN. could stand up to be shot as boldly as some Europeans had done. I had seen English soldiers kneel on their coffins, and open their bosoms with their own hands, until six bullets pierced them, and fall headlong in their coffins. I was anxious that William should stand as firm. When we reached the spot where my comrade was to die, all the regiments, some ten thousand men, had fallen in and formed round in the form of a triangle, its open point looking off into Virginia, opposite which William stood. I stood be- side him when his crime was read and the sentence of the court-martial to be shot, encouraging him to put his trust in God, and meet death like a man. I then stepped aside, as the twelve men were getting into position to fire. He looked toward the open space, off into Virginia, and then looked at me and dropped his head. At this moment word ran along the lines that a horseman was seen approaching, waving his sword in the air. He dashed up to the lines, his horse covered with foam, and waving his sword again, handed a dispatch to an orderly, who passed it to the officer in charge. He opened it with a trembling hand, and with a more tremulous voice read the pardon sent by President Lincoln, while cheer after cheer rent the air as the president followed rapidly in his coach. When the word pardon fell on Scott's ear he ran to me and fell on my neck with both arms around me, exclaim irig, ' I am saved.' I cried like a baby, and could not help it ; and the eyes of the soldiers filled with tears as they cheered the good president for this just act of clemency, and full well did William Scott merit it. Most, if not all of my readers, have read of William's heroic conduct afterwards, until he met his death on the field of battle, gallantly fighting for the Union. ODE ON SCOTT. 201 THE SLEEPING SENTINEL. T'vasin the sultry summer time, as war's red records show, When patriot armies rose to meet a fratricidal foe, When from the North, and East, and West, like the upheaving sea, Swept forth Columbia's sons to make our country truly free. Within a prison's gloomy walls where shadows veiled decay, In fetters on a heap of straw a youthful soldier lay, Heart-broken, hopeless, and forlorn, with short and feverish breath, He waited but the appointed hour to die a culprit's death. Yet, but a few brief weeks before, untroubled with a care, He roamed at will and freely drew his native mountain air, Where sparkling streams leap mossy rocks, from many a woodland fount, And waving elms and grassy slopes give beauty to Vermont. Without a murmur he endured a service new and hard; But wearied with a toilsome march, it chanced one night on guard He sank exhausted at his post, and the gray morning found His prostrate form, a sentinel asleep upon the ground. So in the silence of the night, all weary on the sod Sank the disciples, watching near the suffering Son of God ; Yet Jesus, with compassion moved, beheld their heavy eyes, And though betrayed to ruthless foes, forgiving, bade them rise. But God is love ! Finite minds can faintly comprehend But gently mercy in his rule may with stern justice blend. And this poor soldier, seized and bound, found none to justify, While war's inexorable law decreed that he must die. 'Twas morning. On a tented field and through the heated haze Flashed back from lines of burnished steel the sun's effulgent blaze; While from a sombre prison-house, seen slowly to emerge, A sad procession o'er the sward moved to a muffled dirge. And in the midst with faltering step, and pale and anxious face, In manacles between two guards a soldier had his place. A youth led out to die ! And yet it was not death, but shame That smote his gallant heart with dread, and shook his manly frame, Still on before the martialed ranks the train pursued its way, Up to the designated spot whereon a coffin lay. His coffin 1 And with reeling brain, despairing, desolate, He took his station by its side, abandoned to his fate. 202 ODE CONTINUED. There came across his wavering sight strange pictures in the air. He saw his distant mountain home. He saw his mother dear. He saw his father, bowed with grief through fast declining years. He saw a nameless grave, and then the vision closed in tears. Yet once again, in double file advancing, there he saw Twelve comrades, sternly set apart to execute the law; But saw no more. His senses swam, deep darkness settled round, And, shuddering, he waited now the fatal volley's sound! Then suddenly was heard the noise of steeds and wheels approach, And rolling through a cloud of dust appeared a stately coach. On past the guards and through the field its rapid course was bent, Till halting 'mid the lines, was seen the nation's president! He came to save that stricken soul, now waking from despair, And from a thousand voices rose a shout which rent the air. The pardoned soldier understood the tones of jubilee, And, bounding from his fetters, blessed the hand that made him free. 'Twas spring. Within a verdant vale, where Warwick's crystal tide Reflected o'er its peaceful breast fair fields on either side ; Where birds &nd flowers combined to cheer a sylvan solitude, Two threatening armies, face to face, in fierce defiance stood. A sudden shock, which shook the earth 'mid vapors dense and dim, Proclaimed along the echoing hills the conflict had begun. While shot and shell athwart the stream with fiendish fury sped, To strew among the li ving lines the dying and the dead.- Then louder than the raging storm pealed forth the clear command, Charge, soldiers, charge! And at the word, with shouts, a fearless band, Two hundred heroes from Vermont rushed onward through the flood, And upward, o'er the rising ground, they marked their way in blood. The smitten foe before them fled in terror from his post, While, uusustained, two hundred stand to battle with a host I Then turning, as the rallying ranks with murderous fire replied, They bore the fallen o'er the field and through the purple tide. The fallen I And the first who fell, in that unequal strife, Was he whom mercy sped to save when justice claimed his life. The pardoned soldier! And while yet the conflict raged around, While yet his life-blood ebbed away through every gaping wound, HOW HIS PARDON WAS OBTAINED. 203 While yet his voice grew tremulous, and death bedimmed his eye, He called his comrades to attest he had not feared to die. And, with his last expiring breath, a prayer to Heaven was sent, That God, with his assisting grace, would bless our president It must not be forgotten how his pardon was obtained. His sister, hearing of his sentence, came on to Washington, and on her knees pleaded with the president for her brother, tell ing him that her brother left home against the wishes of his father and mother, all glowing with patriotism, determined to fight for the flag ; that his father was a minister, and that shooting William would carry her father and mother broken-hearted to the grave ; and, with upturned and streaming eyes, saying, ' Dear president, spare, oh spare my poor brother.' 204 GOING BACK TO MAINE. CHAPTER XXVIII. AND here I leave the boys for the East, to help blow up the the Union fii % e there, and show the new regiments how to use the implements of war. Poor fellows, how I pitied the m, lying in the corn-fields, with no tents, covering themselves with corn- stalks, anything to keep the dews and night winds off; often waking up to find it raining and themselves in puddles of wa- ter; many sick with diarrhoea. It was the hardest time of the war. Arrangements had not been perfected for the comfort and health of the men, everything having been done in haste. Reg- iments had been hurried to the front to protect the capital, with- out the necessary conveniences with them to make their condi- tion even tolerable ; but such are the fortunes of war. But I must leave. The work of drilling the new regiments demanded my attention, and my motto had been, 'Help the country any- where and anyhow.' I had now been toiling some seven months without pay, and when I left the boys I had no money to get home with, or to buy rations on the way. When ! got to Georgetown, I sold my watch and ring to get something to eat. When I got to Washington, I called on General Scott, to see if I could get a pass to Maine. His orderly took me in to see him. As I entered his room, I gave him the military salute. Well,' said General Scott, in his peculiar military short-hand, 'what do you want, my man?' I said, 'I want a pass to go to Maine.' Then the general said, ' What are you doing, sir, at the front ? ' I told him I had been drilling the officers and men of the Sixth Maine Volunteers and some others. Said he, A PASS FROM SCOTT. 205 1 Vhere did you learn your drill ? ' I told him, c In the English a my, which I joined in 1842.' 'Who was your comraander-in- chief ? ' asked Scott. I told him ' the Duke of Wellington.' 'Who,' said he, 'the Iron Duke, ray bosom friend? What tac- tics are you drilling in ? ' I told him, ' Scott's heavy infantry, and sometimes in light infantry ; but I had been drilling mostly in the bayonet and broadsword exercise, and the skirmish ex- ercise.' ' Well,' said the general, * suppose you have a company stand- ing at " attention " with their fire-arms, explain the shoulder of arms to me in common time.' I said, ' at the word " shoulder " is only a caution ; at the word " arms," the fire-lock must be thrown, in one motion, and with as little appearance of effort as possible, into its proper position on the left shoulder, the hand crossing the body in so doing. Stand steady, men. Wait for the word " two." At the word " two," drop the right hand as quick as possible to the right side. Stand steady, men, not a move.' 'That will do, that will do,' said the old general, 'here Mr. , go with this soldier to Thomas A. Scott, the Secreta- ry of War, and tell him to give this man a pass to Maine and back. There was a little advantage in going to the old general, for an order from him was immediately attended to, although there were about the office of the secretary several hundred ap- plicants ; I got my passes without a question or delay. It is a little funny that I was recognized by the war department for service and passes, but not for pay. Here is one of the passes from the Secretary of War : WAR DEPARTMENT, ) WASHINGTON, Sept. 10, 1861. ( AGENT N. H. & N. L. AND STONINGTON RAILROAD Co., Boston. Please furnish Sergeant Ambler, Sixth Regiment Maine Vol- unteers, with passage free of charge to him from Boston to New York, on government account. 206 TPBY I DID NOT GO BACK. Relieved from duty upon certificate of Thomas A. Scott Cause, returning from recruiting. By order of the Secretary of War, THOMAS A. SCOTT. General Manager of Government Railways and Telegraphs Received Ticket, , 1861. Note. Please file this order and return it to the department, with account stated to the first of each month, properly certi- fied for payment. My passes from Washington to Maine were given up of course, and placed on file in the war department at Washing- ton, according to the note appended to the pass I have inserted. Not returning to Washington, this one was not used, therefore it remains in my hands. The reason of my not returning to the seat of war, was not because my whole soul was not heart- ily in the cause, neither was it because I did not get any pay for my service, for I have ever felt confident, that when the facts of my relation to the army, suflfe rings and service were fully understood, a just government would not allow a poor fellow like me to go entirely unrewarded. My condition was such that I could not go back, as the fol- lowing communication in the Portland Advertiser will show, better than I can describe it. It is headed : SERGEANT AMBLEE. Mr. Advertiser, A case of great hardship has just come to my knowledge, and I must beg your help. Sergeant Ambler, so well known as a soldier of the Cross, after giving his whole time and all his earnings for the last twelvemonth to the service of his adopted country, is now suf- fering he and his family both from sickness and want. After giving, literally giving instructions to the officers and men of the Massachusetts and Maine Volunteers, month after AT WORK DRILLING. 207 month; after training the Sixth Maine Regiment in Virginia, and the Fifteenth Maine Regiment in Augusta, he had his right wrist dislocated by the stroke of a sabre, took a severe cold there in camp, which was followed by a rheumatic fever of three months; and then came to Portland intending to teach the bayonet and broadsword exercise, with most encouraging pros- pects, hoping to secure something for his family before he returned to the South ; but while giving the second lesson here in the bayonet exercise, he ruptured a blood vessel, and might have bled to death, but for the patient kindness and providen- tial care of strangers. At this time, having nearly lost the use of his left hand, partly on account of an old sabre stroke, and partly from the waste of blood, he is now helpless, and almost hopeless, though upheld by a Christian faith. Nothing worthy of note occurred on my way home. I felt somewhat jaded out with my hard work at the front, and my long ride day and night to reach the old Pine Tree State; but it was good to sit down again with my family, and a few days of rest, with the good nursing and care of a faithful wife, put me on my ' taps ' again as good as new. My services as drill- master, at home and at the front, had given me some notoriety, and the papers dragged me into notice again. I was immedi- ately beset from all quarters from new regiments then forming, for instruction in the various drill exercises, and I could not stay at home if I would, and I am sure I would not stay at home if I could, when my glorious adopted country was in peril, and the boys needed instruction in the arts of self-defense. I got up a company of over a hundred men in Biddeford, whose names I now have on my list, and drilled them. I did not expect to deviate from the usual course of instruction in this company ; but after teaching the officers the broadsword exercise, and all of them the bayonet exercise, and the various maneuvring, marching, and word of command, the privates in- sisted in being taught the broadsword exercise as well as the 208 THE EXHIBITION. officers. It being in my own city, and the boys my own neigh- bors and friends, I gave the whole company instruction in each exercise, so that the privates were not a whit behind the officers in the use of the broadsword. This pleased them, and, on the whole, gratified me, for I felt some pride in having the city where I lived well represented on the field. Every man was prepared, if an officer fell, to take his place. They made such progress, that I concluded to give a public exhibition, for three reasons. The first was to get up a milita- ry fever among the citizens, and so fill up the regiments. The second was to show what skill the boys had attained. And the final reason was to get a little cash ; for there was a very solemn sound in my larder about this time, calling on me to re- cruit a little in that direction, if I would escape a merited cur- tain lecture. So I selected sixteen men of the company, and gave an exhibition in the city hall, of which the Journal gave the following report : SERGEANT AMBLER'S MILITAEY EXHIBITION. ANOTHER TREMENDOUS BATTLE. Amid the tumult and wonderful reve- lations of war, it is not surprising that the fiery waves of battle should break over the quiet city of Biddeford, for places no less prosperous and happy have been quite as seriously visited. But the premonitions of the conflict of which we are writing had been so freely scattered among us as to arouse and prepare the people, in some degree at least, for the opening of the war- like drama. Nor had the announcement that a West Pointer, a pupil of the idolized McLellan would appear, served to di- minish the already excited anticipations of the people. The hall door was besieged by no noiseless throng long before they were opened, and after they were, a continual crowd poured in until every nook and corner of the spacious room was alive with human forms. Never before was this hall so densely packed, and we believe it never will be again, unless THE DESCRIPTION. 209 Sergeant Ambler should repeat his performance, which he has already been requested to do. The immense audience, all restive and anxious, grew impa- tient. Finally the exhibition opened, and the audience were en- lightened in the use of the bayonet and sword, giving them some idea of the skill which a soldier must acquire in order to do good service in battle. The exercises with the sword and bayonet elicited universal admiration, and as the movements, which no unfamiliar person could comprehend, were explained by the sergeant, his magic words fanned the burning excitement into one long, wild shont ot applause, as the gale fans the kindling flame into a terrific coiiflagration. The grand performance of the evening was the cavalry charge. Taking the masked battery. Sergeant Ambler commanding the centre, rode in upon his splendid charger, purchased ex- pressly for the occasion, with Haley and Horton upon the right and left wings. The conflict was long and severe ; and as Ambler clung to his horse with obstinate tenacity, his praises were borne upward from every part of pit and gallery. The fight grew hotter; and as the keen and perceptive ser- geant saw that the courage of his troops was changing to dismay, and fearing another Bull Run stampede might occur, unless his own brave deeds could rally them, he dismounted, and leaving his unterrified charger loose, despite the vociferous admonitions of the audience, ' hitch him,' ' tie him,' etc., etc., walked up to the very face of the masked battery, which was all the time pouring out shot and shell from its savage Colum- biad, followed by his defiant troops, who now seemed bent on victory or death. The rebels under Beauregard resisted with unwonted obstinacy, and were only overpowered after a long and cruel fight, such as the people of this city have seldom been called upon to behold. Strange to relate, none were killed in this engagement, but 14 210 GENERAL DOWS LETTER. among the wounded were the following, who are all injured more or less severely : Sergeant Ambler, Co. A, First Infantry side and leg, caused by a severe collision of his body with a sightless weapon in the hands of a rebel. Dr. Haley suffered a facial disfigurement. Stephen Andrews, contusion on the cranium. Henry Hutchins, injured arm. William Hoppin, abrasure of the skin on the shoulder. Mr. Horton, West Pointer, wounded in the back and elbow by a sword thrust. William Annis, wounded in the back. Many of the best features of the performance would improve by repetition, and we hope to hear from our worthy citizen sol- dier again. Notwithstanding admitting my Company, and the Sabbath- school I had formed in the city free, besides some other dead- heads, with an admission fee of only ten cents, I realized over seventy dollars, which I handed over to Mrs. Ambler with my compliments, and for which she smiled like a May morning, and of course the promised curtain lecture was indefinitely post- poned. I then went to Augusta to drill some of the First Maine Cavalry in the use of the sabre. The Fifteenth Maine Volun- teers were in camp here at this time, and also the Thirteenth. General Dow, of Portland, was then colonel of the Thirteenth Maine Volunteers, the officers of which I drilled in the various exercises, and whose mark was made on many a battle-field. See General Dow's letter. I know Sergeant Ambler well, and have done so for many years. Without pay or position, he rendered me important aid in drilling company officers, mostly new and green, in my com- mand, as they came into camp from their various localities. NEAL Dow, late Brigadier-general, U. 8. Vote. BREAKING MY WRIST. 211 While drilling the Fifteenth Maine Volunteers, I met with an accident which put me back some in my work here. When drilling Captain Prescott my right wrist was dislocated, and then set by Dr. Kimball. This, in connection with lying in a cold camp, for it was winter, brought on a rheumatic fever which, laid me by for some time ; but with good nursing after getting home, by the best wife in the world, I got about again, and went to Portland to drill the officers of the camps in the vicinity. May- or McLellan gave me the use of the city hall for this purpose. My wrist had not got very strong, but the needs of the officers were so great for instruction to prepare them for the field, that I ventured to do the best I could. I could get on very well with the sword exercise with great care. While drilling a lieutenant in the bayonet exercise at self-defense, I gave word for him to longe out in prime. I parried in prime. The socket of his bay- onet and the muzzle of his firelock struck against the center of my firelock with force, bringing my left wrist back and badly breaking it. This would not have happened had not my right wrist been weakened by the recent dislocation at Augusta, which prevented my parrying in prime with sufficient strength to withstand the longe in prime of a heavy man. While endeav- oring to recover my balance, so as to save myself from falling, I ruptured a blood-vessel, and the blood flowed freely from my stomach. I asked the boys to take me to Rev. Mr. Tuckermah's, who aided with others in stanching the blood. Any continued violent effort to this day sets me to bleeding, and from which I never expect to fully recover. I was taken home to Biddeford, and doctors Greene and Hill set my wrist and put on splints, and as I had become considerably exhausted from loss of blood and pain from my broken arm, they proposed to me to take a little brandy. I told them no, I would die before I would touch another drop of liquor. It had well-nigh made me over, soul and body, to the devil, and once fully out of his clutches, I pre- ferred death to returning to the old fellow's camp and rations. As soon as I was able to go out, with my left arm in splints, 212 GETTING ANOTHER WOUND. I went to Augusta ; as the cry was still coming from the regi- ments there for help in the drill, and with my broken arm slung behind me, I drilled the Sixteenth Maine Volunteers. I was obliged to be very cautious, on account of the old rapture of the blood-vessel alluded to before; I got on very well, but drill- ing is a very dangerous work at the best. One day, while drill- ing back of the State-house, a large number of spectators being present, among whom was the mayor of o\ir city and Mr. Chas. Hardy, I met with another mishap. I was giving a lesson in the sword exercise to one of the officers, who made a false thrust and stuck the point of his small sword through my right- hand, between the thumb and index finger, which came very near giving me the lockjaw. Here I was, a double and twisteil cripple. My left wrist broken, my right hand terribly cut, and inwardly ruptured, so that nobody would have bid three cents for me if I had been put up at auction, except my wife, who in- sisted upon it that she wouldn't abate a cent from my value on that account. What strange creatures these women are ! The more a fellow is used up, the more they set by them. Well, that was my case. When I got home, my wife not only had to earn my bread for me, but to put it into my mouth, and then laugh at me because I had the blues over it. In this condition the boys of the Sixteenth made me the first donation that I had received since I entered the service. But time, that old doctor that has done so much since Adam to heal us all, had done well for me, my right hand got well and I went again to Augusta, and drilled the Twenty-first Regiment, of which Colonel Johnson was in command. I had O * to do the work with one hand, the other slung behind me. The editor of the JTennebec Journal at this time, writes : * Colonel Johnson, of the Twenty-first, requests us to say, that he feels greatly obliged to him (Sergeant Ambler) for the instruction he himself has received, and that imparted to the officers and men of his command by Mr. Ambler. Few men during the war have done more, with less reward pecuniarily, than he. If AT GALLOUP'S ISLAND. 213 thanks could make a man rich, Sergeant Ambler would be wealthy indeed, but unfortunately it takes something more sub- stantial to support life. We hope his case will not be forgotten by the Legislature.' At this time volunteering began to slack up, and it was hard filling up these regiments. I went to Bath and made a speech to raise men, and soon got over a hundred men for the Twenty- first, with the promise that I would drill them. I found 'lip exercise' as important as anything at this period, and having seen long service in the English army and some at home, I could get men, when the 'go-boys' speech-makers often failed. I went to Biddeford and spoke, and to Boston where I first opened fire, and spoke there again and again, and got hundreds of my countrymen to enter the service. Here, I was requested to go to Long Island and Galloup's Island, to drill General Deven's command. This was a rendezvous where men were carried as fast as recruited, to be drilled and sent to the front. I spent a good denl of time here, from the last part of 1863, to April, 1865, instructing both officers and men, as my passes will show. I here give the general pass, with its date, and the date of the last indorsement on the back of it, by Captain Rand, captain of the guard. HEAD-QUARTERS, DEPARTMENT DRAFTED MEN, LONG ISLAND, BOSTON HARBOR, )RAFTED MEN, ) i, Oct. 8, 1863. \ Pass Sergeant Ambler to Long Island and return, by boat. Good until further orders. By order of Brigadier-general Devens, W. A. HILL, Lieut. A. A. A. G. This shows my first service here, and the last. On the back of this general pass is the following from Captain Rand. April 4, 1865. Corporal of the guard will consider this good until further orders. (Signed) RAND. 214 SOBER REFLECTIONS. Thus the reader will see, from the time the first gun was fired on Fort Sumpter up to the surrender of General Lee, I worked for my adopted country in every way in my power. Can any man xipon the muster-rolls show a prompter, a more patient and unwearied service for the Union, from the beginning to the end of the war, though he were native born? ' Tis true, I could not say of my wounds, broken bones, and disabilities, that they were received while gallantly leading in the charge, and so excite the admiration of all by such daring; but they were received as truly in the country's service, in more humble and less exciting scenes; but often requiring more self- denial and patience in duty, than when inspired by the pres- ence of the enemy, the shrill notes of the bugle's call, the thun- dering of cannon, and the rattling musketry, and the echoing commands of the plumed officers dashing along the lines on their foaming chargers. These things have an inspiration to make men valliant, when a mightier will and a higher patriot- ism only can hold a man up to the work amidst less exciting scenes at home. When the war had ended, and the dust and din of battle had ceased, and the good old flag floated in triumph once more over our undivided country, in looking over the whole matter, I could not regret the steps I had taken. I felt inwardly that I had played the part of a man, and could I have multiplied my- self into a thousand drill-masters, all should have been laid on the altar of Liberty and Union. But here were now some shadows that would not down at my bidding. Painful realities stared me in the face that I must now grapple with as best I could. My health shattered, a cripple for life, and a family looking to me for bread, with the little means I had saved up to educate myself with all gone, poverty dire, cruel, pittiless staring me and mine in the face. Oh, it is easier to face armies with a man's heart and hopes, than to stand crippled ami helpless, with grim want shaking its pittiless finger in your face. I was obliged, from my crippled state and with my proud heart, to .say, ftTTRGEOlTS CERTIFICATE. 215 *To dig, I cannot; to beg, I am ashamed.' Without an educa- tion, and one hand useless at my side, and the constant danger from a ruptured blood-vessel, it was not much unlike human na- ture to have a set-to with the blues, with a family on my hands, and no prospect of ever being a sound man. See the surgeon's letter. SACO, ME., March 13, 1871. This may certify, that I have known Sergeant I. W. Ambler for a long series of years, both before and since the ' War of the Rebellion,' and on the breaking out of the war he threw all aside, and entered heart and hand into the service of the United States; while thus engaged, he received an injury causing the rupture of a blood vessel, from the effects of which he has never fully recovered ; as over exercise ever since, and at the present time, produces a repetition of the trouble. He also re- ceived a dislocation of the right wrist and a fracture of the left, and since these injuries has been unable, and, in my opinion, ever will be, to attend to business of any description to advan- tage. J. E. L. KlMBALL, M. D., Late Surg. 27th Reg. Me. VoU. 216 FAMINE IN MY PUR8& CHAPTER XXIX. WHEN I began to work for the Union cause, I had some funds which I had saved from the sale of my book, for the pur- pose of educating myself to preach the gospel as I felt it my duty to do, all of which I used up to support my family, and to pay my bills while drilling our officers and men at home and in the field. My wife's mother gave me eighteen hundred dollars during the war, for the purpose of securing a little home that I could call my own. A part of this also, together with some over two hundred dollars given me by the Sixteenth Maine Volunteers, to which I have already alluded, and the boys on Galloup's Island, and several other gentlemen, I paid out in the service. With the balance I purchased some property for a home, paying $1000 down, and gave my note and mortgage for a balance of $500. Sc the reader will see my prospects were not very flattering. I had tried to be prudent, but I spent a good deal in trying to regain my health, and to recover the use of my arm ; but it availed nothing. I still felt anxious to get on with my studies, and perhaps more so now than before, be- cause my health was gone, and, being a cripple too, I was sure that now, more than ever, I must be dependent on my wits for my bread. My friends who had been cognizant of my labors for the Union cause said, * Sergeant, why don't you apply to the general government for a pension, and pay for your services during the war? It is your duty to do so.' Such advice from prominent men, whose wisdom and kindness I could not doubt, seemed to me ought not to be disregarded ; and especially, when it so completely coincided with my own opinion of the SYMPATHY FOR COMRADES. 217 case, and I concluded to do so, not as a beggar, for I did feel (and I don't admit that it is ostentation to put it in that light) that I had a just claim on the government for some remunera- tion for my services during the whole war, and to be reimbursed for what I had expended of my own funds while drilling the boys for service. If I am wrong in my views of the matter, lest any one should feel that I am stubborn about it, I wish them to distinctly understand that I am willing to be forgiven. Here I must not omit to state, that having done all in my power to aid those around me, for I could not see a brother soldier hungry, and not divide my loaf with him. I had, for- tunately, or unfortunately, got a little notoriety in that line, and if anybody was sick or suffering, I was pretty sure to be sought out. Good friends, while I was city missionary, often filled my hands with good things for the needy, and I have no doubt I often got credit for benefits that others bestowed through me ; but after I entered the service for the Union, these sources were generally dried up, and what I could do now, I must do out of my own penury. To a soldier's call I never could turn away. The country had said, 'go to the bloody field and save us, and you shall have laurels placed upon your brow, and your graves shall be strewn with flowers, and your little children and widows shall be taken care of, not as paupers, but as the children and widows of heroes, whose name and fame we delight to honor, and for whose families we can never do enough, not as a charity, but as a debt the country will delight to pay, as a slight token of her appreciation of the noble deeds of her fallen heroes.' "Well, that was flattering, and many a noble heart by such words was charmed away from wife and children, in the hour of his country's need. And many, too, have been cared for since their return ; but alas ! how many have been left through some informality, in some way, to pine away and die in poverty and want. Private Wm. Kelly, who belonged to the Sixth Maine Vols., who had served more than four years, and who was honorably dis- 218 A SAD STORY. charged at the close of the war, June 28, 1865, was one of these cases, whose condition and death, with its sad surroundings, I will describe. He had fought in the battles of Lee's Mills, Wil- liamsburg, Golden Farm, White Oak Swamp, Antietam, and Fredericksburg, was several times wounded, the last of which was by a ball that pierced his breast, passing nearly through him, and was finally extracted by Dr. Warren, taking it out from under the shoulder blade, leaving him very much reduced, so that he never was well afterwards. I had not seen him since I drilled him with the rest of the regiment at the front. One night, an old gray-headed lady very poorly clad called on me, and asked me if I knew William Kelly of the Sixth Maine, and said he was very sick and wanted to see me. I told her I thought I did, and would visit him immediately. It was his mother, who, on her return, told her son that his old drill-mas- ter, Ambler, was coming to see him. He arose to dress, and fainted. His wife ran to meet me, and I hastened to the mis- erable dwelling, up one or two rickety nights of stairs in a back way, into a wretched open room with no furniture save a few broken chairs, and an old stove and a miserable bed upon which lay poor William, who reached out his withered hand while the tears ran down his cheeks and said, ' O drill-master, I am so glad you have come,' and sobbed and cried like a child. On looking round I found them suffering for food to eat, they had nothing, actually nothing that could be called eatable in the house ! I said, ' William, how is it that you are in such a con- dition as this?' He turned his head toward his wife and said, ' ask Mary, she will tell you.' Here is her story : 'We lived in Portland, and William was not able to do much. I took in washing to get something to eat. One of our little girls was taken sick, and I had to attend to her ; but the child grew worse till I closed its eyes in death. I bargained with the un- dertaker to wash for him to pay for the coffin, and poor William was unable to pay for a hearse, and the corpse was carried on a dray to the burying-ground, and William dug the grave him- KELLY'S WIFE'S STATEMENT. 219 % self. Then the other girl was taken sick and died. William went to the undertaker's and got a coffin, and carried it home on his shoulders, as he was not able to hire it done. And we put the last little girl in the tomb. We were in debt and could not get the money to pay with, and work was hard for me, and we were both discouraged. I concluded to come to Biddeford .to get work in the mill, and that is why we are here. When I go in the mill I have to lock the room so they wont disturb William until I get back. O sir, it is hard times with us.' This was Mary's explanation. I looked round, there was no medi- cine, no, nothing to make a poor sick man comfortable. I went and got some provision and a few groceries out of my own funds for my sick comrade. Poor William got up in his bed and sat up, and prayed such a prayer as I never heard, and then said, 'O drill-m'aster, Mary did not tell you half our sorrows. I tried and tried to get a pension, but there was always some reason for delay; some officer could not be found whose signa- ture was necessary; but, drill-master, I shall soon have my final discharge, and shall not need a pension in that land where I am going. I want you when I am dead to bury me beside my poor darlings,' and turning over on one elbow, he drew from under his pillow his discharge, and handed it to me. ' Here,' said he, ' is my discharge. I want you to get my pension if you can, and pay yourself first for your trouble, and then my funeral expenses. Mary, will you listen to my last request, and see that I want drill-master Ambler to be paid for all his trouble, and for all he pays out for my sickness and funeral expenses, and the balance to you,' to which she assented. I went to Portland, and asked Mr. Drummond to endeavor to get William's pension, carrying his papers with me ; but the same delay and putting off that William complained of contin- ued, although I urged his present condition and needs; and so again and again, while he lived, I tried, but certain officei-s were wanted to sign certain papers and they could not be found, until, vexed and disappointed, I took the discharge 220 WILLIAM KELLY 1 8 DEATH. papers home with me. I had no less than three doctors to see William, who did all in their power to save him, and they made him as comfortable as they could while he lived. Among them was Doctor Warren, who immediately recognized William as the man from whom he extracted the ball that passed through him. The doctor was very attentive to him while he lived, and neither of the physicans would take a cent' lor their care. I continued to care for him until one night, about midnight, the wife and his mother came for me, and said William was dying. 1 hastened with them to his house. The poor man had battled terribly against grim death, to try to live until I came, but in vain. And oh, such a sight 1 He had torn his bed in his dying agony, and, as I opened the door, he lay dead, with his head hanging off the bed, his mouth open and tongue out. The wife and mother screamed and ran from the O house at the sight. I laid him tenderly down upon the floor, and went for some help. . Meeting one of the police, I asked him in ; but the sight was too terrible, and he would not stop. I laid him out, but could not close his mouth. I got a pillow and put it under his head, and while doing it both his eyes opened. I was startled and said, ' William, what is the matter?' and felt his pulse and found all was still. I closed his eyes and laid some coppers on them, and went in search of the trem- bling, frightened women, and when they came, such wails I sel- dom ever heard. I called in some of the rich to see how patriots were sometimes left to die in poverty and want. I buried William at my own expense, paying out filly-nine dollars for funeral expenses alone, besides my time and travel- ing expenses. As William and the family were Catholics, I had him buried from the Catholic church, and mass said for him as usual with them. The soldier's organization, called the Grand Army, of Portland, when I reported to them, paid me fifteen dollars toward the expenses, and no doubt would have done more, but for the many calls which are made on them for help. Some seven dollars more was afterwards handed me by friends. HARD RAISING MONET. 221 After William had been buried some time, Mr. Drummond suc- ceeded in getting a pension for the widow, who quietly took it, but failed to remember William's last request, viz., that the ex- penses of his sickness and burial should first be paid from it. Query when William was alive and I had his papers to pre- sent, how was it nothing could be done to relieve his wants by the way of a pension ; when very soon after he was buried a pension could be got for his widow without his discharge papers ? Well, thank God, I did my duty, and feel satisfied to know that I helped to light my poor comrade down the dark way, through which we all must pass before we reach our final rest and reward. But to return. After the suggestions of my friends to ask government for pay, I concluded, on the whole, to petition Con- gress for pay for my services, or a pension, and to be reimbursed for the money I had paid out to support myself and family while at work for the country. The question now to be settled was, how to get the money to pay the bills. To hunt up the men whose signatures I wanted on my petition, and to go to Washington and present it personally, would cost me consider- able. I was bothered a good deal to raise money for the pur- pose. I thought of that old story of the rats, who held a con- ference one time to consider what was best to be done about the old tabby-cat who had intruded upon their haunts. After va- rious suggestions from some of the most venerable of these gentlemen long-tails, one smart young rat made a speech, advo- cating the putting of a bell on the cat, as that would give them due notice of her coming, so they could have abundance of time to scamper off to their holes. This brought down the house, especially the younger members of the house ; when a long-tailed, gray old fogy squeaked out his approbation of the main plan, stating, at the same time, that one little objection arose in his mind, and the longer he thought of it the more seri- ous it became, and he would state it in the form of a question; 222 GETTING NAMES TO PETITION. and with a twinkle of his old eye, he asked, ' Who will put the bell on ? ' and the meeting broke up in a row. I decided that I must have some money; that was young America ; but the provoking question how to get it well-nigh broke up everything. I tried a long time, but folks did not like a second mortgage. At last, by paying extra interest, I got a loan of $400 by giving another mortgage on my little homestead. It took me near six months to get the names I wanted to in- dorse my petition, for I did not mean to go off half-bent. My wife worked making bonnets and at dressmaking while I was working up my petition, and in this way we got our bread. I guess I ought to mention a little business matter here, to show how the devil takes the advantage of poor fellows like me when in a strait place. A runner came into our little dressmaking- shop and wanted wife to buy some lace collars. She refused to buy, telling him I was going to Washington and wanted every cent we could raise. ' Oh,' said he, ' I don't want pay till he gets back; you can take your own time.' And she bought them and a few other matters, some forty dollars' worth in all ; and as soon as I was off, he sued and took over $100 worth at whole- sale price from our little stock, and the stuff was sold at auc- tion for about twenty-five dollars for the whole, leaving poor wife seventy-five dollars out. Before I started for Washington, I used a considerable part of the money I had hired, and as I had now got my petition ready and was short, I hired sixty dollars more, for which I had to pay two dollars per month, or forty per cent, hoping my pe- tition, which I here introduce, would be a success, and then I could pay my debts. I think it was the strongest paper ever presented to the Military Committee. PETITION SERGEANT I. W. AMBLER, ASKING COMPENSATION FOR SERVICES RENDERED IN DRILLING TROOPS DURING THE WAR. To the Hon. Senate and House of Representatives^ etc. : The undersigned, Sergeant Isaac W. Ambler, respectfully PETITION TO CONGRESS. 223 represents, that, having had long experience as a soldier and drill-master, he dedicated himself at the beginning of the late rebellion, to the instruction of soldiers and officers for the ser- vice of the United States, entering upon this work in Massa- chusetts the 15th of April, 1861 (the second day after the attack upon Fort Sumter), and continued to be so engaged in Massachusetts, Maine, and Virginia, until the 4th of April, 1805, without any compensation therefor, either from municipal, Slate, or national authorities. During this time, Sergeant Ambler assisted largely in re- cruiting and drilling a very large number of men and officers in all branches of military tactics, which service he respectfully submits, was of far greater value to the government than any he could have rendered as a company officer merely. Sergeant Ambler was crippled in his left arm by a bayonet wovind, re- ceived while engaged in drilling, by which wound he has ever since been disabled, wherefore he prays, that your honorable bodies may pass a special act for his relief, authorizing his mus- ter into the United States service for the period above named, in the grade of First Sergeant, with pay and other allowance of that grade, and pension, or such other relief as may be deemed just and proper. Not having contemplated making any claim for the services at the time they were rendered, Sergeant Ambler presents such evidence only as is herein inclosed. 1st. To establish the equity of his claim, the document signed by Hon. John Neal, Governors Chamberlain, Washburn, jr., Claflin, Stearns, Padelford, Goodwin, and Generals Hooker, Burnside, Fessenden, McClellan, Devens, Shepley, and others. 2d. To establish dates as stated, the papers marked passes, letters, and newspaper extracts. 3d. For proof of disability, etc., the certificate of Dr. Kim- ball, and citizens of Biddeford. All of which is respectfully submitted, I. "W. AMBLEB. 224 TESTIMONIALS. January 24, 1872. Referred to the Committee on Military Affairs. LYNCH. CERTIFICATES. PORTLAND, ME., March 15, 1871. This may certify that I have personally known Sergeant I. W. Ambler ever since 1859, that I have always found him trustworthy, earnest, and laborious, a capital swordsman and drill-master, and gifted with uncommon natural eloquence, though uneducated, whereby he has been enabled to accomplish great results as a lecturer on temperance, and as a lay preacher. His services and sufferings in the late rebellion would entitle him to great consideration if they were known to our rulers, though technically he may have little to claim on the gov- ernment, his sendees being not only voluntary, but almost wholly gratuitous, and the injuries he has sustained, whereby he has lost many years of his life, suffere 1 greatly, and been put to heavy charges, not having befallen him while in actual service. Nevertheless, as we are so largely indebted to him for instruction and example in the several regiments mentioned in his papers, it would seem that he has claims, which, if not legal and technical, are at least equitable, and ought not to be overlooked in this our day of reckoning and generous acknowl- edgment of such services as he has rendered our country. Entertainining these views, I do most heartily recommend him to the consideration of our national lawgivers, and to the President of the United States, and the Secretary of War. All which is respectfully submitted. JOHN NEAL. We, the undersigned, concur in the above representations, and hereby join in the recommendation. JOSHUA L. CHAMBERLAIN, late Maj. Gen. V. S. Vbls. JAMES D. FESSENDEN, late Brig. Gen. U. S. Vbls. ISRAEL WASHBURN, JR., Ex- Gov. of Maine. G.F.SHEPLEY, U. S.Judg estate Brig. Gen. U.S. Vols. TESTIMONIALS. 225 SETII PADELFORD, Governor of Rhode Island. WILLIAM CLAFLIN, Governor of Massachusetts. It is with much pleasure as well as with a deep sense of duty that I write this commendation of Sergeant I. W. Ambler, drill-master, and fully concur with the accompanying recom- mendations. I personally and intimately knew Sergeant Am- bler in the Army of the Potomac in the autumn of 1861 ; how hard and successfully he labored to drill the raw officers in sword, and soldiers in musket and skirmish exercises, particu- larly in my Regiment, the Sixth Maine, and I remember instances in which his courageous example and soldierly bear- ing was of great service to our troops which had not been under fire, as for instance, the affair of Lewinsville, Va., under General Smith. Sergeant Ambler was the man selected to bear the colors of the Sixth Maine through Baltimore, when the regi- ment Avas on its way to Washington, and when an attack by the mob was expected; received great injury by poisoned food in Havre de Grace, etc., etc. I remember, also, that for his hard and valuable services in 1861 he received no compensation ; that he was subsequently broken and crippled in body for life in his efforts to aid the Union cause, as his many scars to-day will testify, etc. I will only say more, that as I know what I above stated is true, I most earnestly hope a just and grateful country will acknowledge and reward his services. Z. THOMPSON, Chaplain 6th Maine Reg't, 1861-62. I know Sergeant Ambler well, and have done so for many years. Without pay or position, he rendered me important aid in drilling company officers, mostly new and green, in my com- mand, as they came into camp from their various localities. NEAL Dow, late Brig. Gen. U. S. Vols. I know Sergeant Ambler. He drilled many officers under my command. I concur fully in the recommendations above. CHAS. DEVEXS, Jn., late J3rev. Ma}. Gen, U. S. V\>1. 15 226 TESTIMONIALS. I nm not personally acquainted with Sergeant Ambler, bat from my knowledge of the persons whose names are above subscribed, I think him entitled to consideration. ONSLOW STEARNS, Gov. of N. H. I am glad to concur in the above recommendations favorable to Sergeant Ambler. . A. E. BURNSIDE, Maj. Gen. U. S. A. I concur in the above recommendations. J. HOOKER, Maj. Gen. U. S. A. Having long and favorably known Sergeant Ambler, I rally concur in the foregoing recommendations. ICHABOD GOODWIN, JE/x- Gov. of N. H. From the above indorsements I feel certain that Sergeant Ambler is entitled to great consideration, and if any irregulari- ty exists in regard to his muster in, it would seem to be the duty of our lawgivers to fully reimburse him, and pay for his services. WM. COGSWELL, late Brig. Gen. U. S. A. I know Sergeant Ambler as an instructor of troops and a teacher of the sword, and am happy to concur in the above recommendations. FRANCIS FESSENDEN, Brig. Gen. U. S. Army. I have read the papers in this case, and although I have no personal knowledge of the matter, I am satisfied that Sergeant Ambler is fairly entitled to the generous consideration of the authorities for valuable services rendered during the war, and that it is a case wherein technical objections, if such exist, ought not to stand in the way of ample recompense being awarded him. GEO. B. McCLELLAN, late Maj. Gen. U. 8. A. I concur in the recommendations of Generals McClellan, Hook- er, Burnside, and others. C. C. MBADB, Maj. Gen. U. 8. A. TESTIMONIALS. 227 January 22, 1872. I have known Sergeant Ambler personally and by reputation for many years, and I have no doubt that he is eminently deserv- ing the aid and relief he seeks. His services and his sufferings alike, entitle him to this recognition. J. G. ELAINE, Speaker of the House of Representatives. WASHINGTON, D. C., Jan. 23, 1872. I have been acquainted with Mr. I. W. Ambler for many years, as city missionary in Biddeford, Maine, and while in the service of the United States, as drill-sergeant, during the late war. Mr. Ambler came to my rooms, in this city, some time in August, 1861, disabled from sunstroke, and remained with me until he was able to return to the field. Learning that he is about to apply to Congress for compensation for his services in de- fense of the Union, I deem it a duty, as well as a pleasure, to earnestly commend him to that honorable body as a gen- tleman worthy of confidence, and, in my judgment, entitled to relief. D. E. SOMES. PORTLAND, ME., 14th August, 1871. I, J. Pierrepont Neal, Justice of the Peace and Quorum of the County of Cumberland, Maine, residing in the city of Port- land, do hereby certify that the foregoing are true and correct copies of letters and testimonials in the possession of I. W. Am- bler, which he has shown to and which have been carefully ex- amined and compared by me with the foregoing. J. PIERREPONT NEAL, J. P. & Q. BIDDEFORD, MAINE. Sergeant I. W. Ambler proposes to leave us for a season ; and we the undersigned cannot permit him to go without bear- ing willing testimony to his Christian character and fidelity, as a good missionary among the poor of this place. He has been abundant in labors for their good ; ministered to their wants, 228 TESTIMONIALS. reclaimed many inebriates, kindly expostulated with sellers of liquors, and persuaded them to give up their traffic ; visited the sick, consoled the dying, gathered at one time about one hundred and seventy little ones into a most interesting mission school, and the good people of Biddeford clothed the most of them. He has preached the glad tidings frequently, and to many in season and out of season. Mr. Ambler is an accomplished military tactician, having seen long service in foreign lands, and when the news came in 1861 that his adopted flag had been insulted, and that it no longer waved from Sumter, he immediately left the pulpit for the drill-room, giving his whole time, without remuneration, to the instructions of officers and men, laboring in Maine, Massachu- setts, and Virginia; giving his whole time and energies to aid the cause of freedom, regardless alike of fatigue and personal comfort; and by so doing has been made a cripple for life, thus depriving himself and family of those comforts which otherwise they might have enjoyed. Mr. Ambler is a reformed man ; he has gone through all this war and touched not, handled not, tasted not, any intoxicating liquors. 'He that ruleth his spirit is better than he that taketh a city.' LEONARD ANDREWS. CHARLES HARDY. Rev. JOHN STEVENS, Freewill Baptist Minister. JAMES M. PALMER, Pastor 2d Cong. Church. CHAS. TENNEY, Pastor Pavilion Church. E. H. BANKS, Merchant. J. HUBBARD, Jr., Pastor Baptist Church. CHARLES A. SHAW, Mayor. ALVAN BACON, M. D. DRYDEN SMITH, M. D. WM. YEOMAN, Pastor Free Baptist Church. WM. BERRY, Police Judge. ABEL H. JELLESON, Judge Municipal Court. A PAPER PUFF. 229 G. N. WEYMOUTII, Attorney at Law. WM. P. HAIXES, Treasurer of Pepperell Mills. R. M. CHAPMAX, Cashier Biddeford, Me., Bank. HOEACE PIPER, High School Teacher. C. C. MASON, Pastor M. E. Church, Saco. Sergeant Ambler, who, it will be remembered, rendered most efficient service not only during the early days of the late rev- olution, but through the long years of terrible warfare, drilling thousands of our officers and men in the sabre and bayonet ex- ercise, then eagerly pressing to the front, and who, since the first sound of the bugle note calling patriots to arm themselves for the conflict, devoted the whole of his time to the service of his country, is in this city. It will be remembered this excel- lent drill-officer was for many years an English soldier. Leav- ing his native country for an adopted one, he gave his time, money, and health to sustain the principles of our own free gov- ernment, and in so doing received several terrible wounds, one of which a musket and bayonet thrust forever disables the use of his left hand. Unfortunately Sergeant Ambler has no legal claim upon the government, because he was not mustered into service as a sol- dier, but he was one who protected our flag through the streets of Baltimore immediately after the brave Sixth Massachusetts had led the way for brave and noble men to follow. Such men should never suffer. One prominent trait on the part of this unselfish man has been no meanness displayed in asking or receiving remunera- tion for his teaching. Whole companies have gone into action, every man of which was indebted to our generous friend for months of service on his part. Sickness, long and painful, is the cause of his present adver- sity. Expense has caused him to sacrifice everything he had except honor, patriotism, and a devoted Christian character, 230 A PAPER PUFF. and hence he appeals to a generous government for that help sufficient only to enable him to obtain the necessities of life. Sergeant Ambler, it must be remembered, in battle faced the enemy, fighting as bravely as the best and most devoted soldier in our ranks. Shall not such proof of attachment and such un- selfish devotion to our interests be rewarded by a reasonable return on our part. JZoston Journal. CHARGE ON WASHINGTON. 231 CHAPTER XXX. WITH such a document, backed by governors and generals and other good men, and such testimonials of well-known cler- gymen, I felt very certain, that with such a formidable battery, I could carry an enemy's works as soon as I unlimbered in Washington for action, and what had I not reason to expect from friends and patriots at the capitol ? Representatives and senators, on whose burning words of patriotism and love of country, listening multitudes had often hung in wondrous rap- tures. If I had been a betting man I should have put ten to one, that I should have succeeded. I went with my head up and should have laughed at the man who should have proposed to charge me one per cent to insure me. Getting into Wash- ington, I put up at the Franklin House, and after getting the dust and dirt out of my throat and eyes, so to get into condi- tion to reconnoiter the ground,! started out, and charged down on some of the clerks at the government buildings, for the pur- pose of getting an introduction to some of the leading officials, when, to my astonishment, they stared at me, and drew off as if I were a hot potato, or something of the kind, that might burn them if they touched me, or were found in my company. This reception was novel to me ; but I got it through my head at last, why it was so ; and I rather pitied them, for it seemed to me that they felt compelled to go on the principle of non commitamus to save their heads, and so had generally adopted in practice the old proverb, * every man for himself, and the d 1 take the hindmost.' I knew there was one man, at least, from Maine, who cared for the soldier. And I went to him 232 STAVING TII1NGS OFF. (Speaker Bluine), and be added his name to my petition, and told me to go to Mr. Lynch, a representative from my district, whose duty it was to attend to the petitions of his constituents, and he had no doubt the Hon. gentleman would lay it before the Military Committee at once, and urge them to report a bill for rny relief. I went to Mr. Lynch and stated my case. He told me it would have to go before the Military Committee, and I must be present when it was laid before them, and he told me when he was ready, he would send for me. Well, that looked well, and I waited patiently three weeks for Mr. Lynch to send for me, but he did not do so. I then went to Speaker Blaine and told him how my case was neglected, and Mr. Blaine took me before the committee himself at their next session. I was questioned about my service, etc., and was requested to be present at their next meeting. They were holding their sessions now every two or three days. I went to the next meeting, and the next, and the next, until I had followed them up for three months, and it always happened that something else must be :icted upon before my case could be reached. At last Mr. Marcy, one of the. committee, told me he had searched all the books to find something to meet my case ; but utterly failed to do so. I said to him, ' Sir, I did not come before your honora- ble body, expecting you to find a law to meet my case, but to set before you the facts, that you might report a bill which, when passed by Congress, would meet it, and give me relief.' And I referred him to my passes, to newspaper reports and my petition, and the signatures of honorable gentlemen recom- mending me and my claims upon government for compensation in some form. He told me newspaper extracts were not relia- ble. I told him I did not base my matters on them, they were simply confirmatory of the statements and recommendations of honorable gentlemen, well-known to him and the country, and so far as the newspapers were concerned, I did not know what would have become of the country, if it had not been for them during the war. This ended my meetings with the Mili- tary Committee. BROKER'S PROPOSAL. 233 About this time, a gentleman came to me pardon me for using the term and said he was well-known in Washington, and had done a good deal of business of this kind, and had been very successful in securing pensions, etc., and he would guarantee to get a pension for me, if I would pay him two thousand dollars. I told him I had no funds. He said it was bad for me; but finally offered to get it for one thousand. I told him I could not pay it, for I did not have it, and could not raise it. Then said he, ' you can't get it. The Committee won't report a bill in your favor,' which I found to be the case. I don't presume the fellow had any collusion with them however; but he was a regular lobbyist, and knew something of move- ments generally at head-quarters. My case reminded me of the saying of one of Massachusetts' noted criminal lawyers, the celebrated Rufus Choate, when applied to to defend a man charged with murder. The first question he put to the man soliciting his services was, ' Has he got any money ? ' When told he was a poor man, ' What,' says Choate, ' a poor man with no money, and charged with murder! There is no hope for him, sir.' Not that I had been charged with crime, and no money ; but this lobby member told me that without money, I could not have a bill reported in my favor. I went to Speaker Blaine and told him the offer that was made me, and asked his advice. He said, 'Mr. Ambler, don't you pay a dollar. If you have not done enough for the coun- try for a little pension, throw your papers to the four winds. You go and tell the Military Committee if they will report a bill in your favor I will pass it through the House without any trouble. You go and see the president of that committee, Gen- eral Coburn, and also General Slocum, and tell them so.' I went eleven times before I could have an interview with either of them. The servant saying they were not at home. A habit very common, I am told, in this country, when the lady of the house don't want to receive company; and I won't say it is not true of my native land. I made up my mind to try a little 234 -4 LITTLE DODGE. Yankee dodge, and see if that would not bring them home; so the servant's usual ' not at home ' might be reversed. I went to my good friend Elaine, and got permission to bear his compli- ments to the gentlemen, and the next day presented myself at the door and handed the servant the following card : ' I. W. Am- bier with Speaker Blaiue's compliments.' The servant smiled, and bowed, and took the card to the honorable gentleman, who ordered the servant to show me up. So my reader will see how to define the term, 'not at home.' In justice to these gen- tlemen I will say, that I was received kindly, and informed that at that time they were settling some land matters that would require perhaps a month's time, and could attend to nothing else until that work was concluded, and they advised me to wait in Washington until that was off their hands. Oh, how little do men in easy circumstances realize the sufferings such delays occasion to a poor man ! Here I was, in poverty, hang- ing at the government doors, my bill running up at the hotel, and money all gone, when a simple recommendation to the favorable consideration of Congress, that they could have written out and signed in thirty minutes, would have sent sun- shine into my poor heart and home. About this time, my good friend Dr. Kimball, of Saco, sent me fifty dollars, which greatly encouraged me. God bless his big heart, may he never know what it is to want; and he sent me the following kind note : SACO, April 11, 1872. FRIEND AMBLER, I intended to have written before, but lack of time is the reason why I have not. I am sorry you have been so bothered with your business. I truly believed, that your case was so plain that but a very little time would suffice to settle the whole affair ; and it is a mystery to me that this should be delayed. The great thing in law is proof, and I think if that is necessary in your case, you have enough to sat- isfy any reasonable mind upon the subject. I am glad you still persevere, and as you are there, I would stick till the last gun LETTERS. 235 was fired. It does seem to me that you will succeed ; that right will triumph. There is nothing new here at present. I am obliged to you for your letters and papers. And now hop- ing and believing in your success, I remain Truly yours, J. E. L. KIMBALL. P. S. Shall be glad to hear from you, and shall hope to hear good news. Such kind letters were like balm to me in this long struggle. Whether I intended to ' stick] as the doctor advised, will be seen by the following letter sent to him. WASHINGTON, D. C., 1872. DE. KIMBALL : My Dear Sir, I pray that you will excuse me for not writing sooner. I have been waiting on the committee to see what they would do in my case, so that I could write to you and tell you something definite. I have been battling with the Military Committee ever since I wrote you. They have come to the conclusion that I did great service in the late rebellion ; but they say if they pass my bill, they are afraid that it will open a door for others. I told them if they could find a man who had gone through as much as I had, having entered the service on the 15th of April, 1861, occupying the position of drill-mas- ter, also doing active service in the field, and being crippled for life, yes, and your government recognized me as a soldier by giving me passes to and fro, I would not press my claim. I went and told Speaker Elaine what the Military Committee had told me. Speaker Elaine said, ' What do we care about open- ing doors! let us have justice.'' And he told me to go and tell them from him, that if they would pass my claim, that he would pass-it through the House without any trouble. I went and told them personally what Speaker Elaine had said, and they told me they would let me know in a few days what they would do. 236 PURPOSE TO STICK. Doctor, if it had not been for your assistance, I could not have battled them up to the present time. A congressman told me the other day, that the committee was going to keep me here till all my money was gone, and then I should be glad to go home. I told him I would have an answer from the com- mittee, yes or no, if I had to stay in Washington till hunger sets upon my cheek, and starvation glared from my eye-balls. I left home with no clothes, only what I had on my back, and now I can see necessity fluttering round my ragged robe. Adieu, I am too full to say more. I. W. AMBLER. It will be seen that my purpose was to stick until something was done; but the best of us cannot always bear up into the wind's eye without shaking our sails, and making some lee-way. My anxiety began to wear on me, and while waiting, and back- ing and filling for months, I was taken sick, and confined to my room at my hotel. For four days, nobody came to my room but the servant, and I could not get even a cup of tea, weak as I was, unless I took it at meal-time. My friend Shepherd, on whom I had frequently called, missed me and called to see me, and seemed surprised to find me sick. He went and brought me some oranges, and kindly offered me a home with him if I would accept it ; but his wife being sick, I could not think of doing so ; as like myself, in some measure, he was a soldier and did not revel in wealth, and could ill afford additional expense on my account. He insisted on my taking five dollars to help me along a little, as he expressed it. I did not want him to know how hard up I was, and having used up all my funds, I concluded to send for the president of the Young Men's Christian Association, and let them know how matters stood with me. I had attended some of their meetings, and spoke in several of them, and I thought they might, in a quiet way, render me some service, or help me to some funds until I ould repay them. He came to see me, and I told him how I GETTING INTO CATHOLIC HOSPITAL. 2o7 was situated, money all gone, business unfinished, and already in debt to the landlord. I was coolly advised to leave my valise, etc., in the landlord's possession for my bills, and go to the Providence Hospital. I did not know who were the patrons of this institution at the time. I did not leave my valise with the landlord ; but I gave him my watch and chain for my bills. This gentleman got me a permit to go to this hospital, and handed it to me in an en- velope, which I did not open until I reached there. Judge ye of my astonishment, when I found my good Protestant brother had got me into a Catholic institution, managed by the sisters of charity. This seemed rather a shrewd operation, for the Young Men's Christian Association, and I concluded if the president managed all their affairs as carefully, to save expense to them, as he did in my case, they might have some funds in their treasury. I handed the envelope containing my permit to one of the sisters in charge. On reading it she remarked, Why sir, you are only a pauper; a gentlemanly-looking man like you ought to pay six dollars per week, as some of the others do here, and I could give you a better room, and some- thing better to eat than you can have now.' I told her I had no money, and she would have to put me into the pauper's ward. My first night here satisfied me that this was not my home. I had a consumptive on each side of me, who coughed the live- long night. In a day or two, I took French leave of the good sisters, for I had strong objections to dying a pauper. When a boy, I heard a song called c the pauper's funeral,' one line of which always grated on my ear, where it spoke about 'rattling his bones over the stones.' When I got out on the sidewalk, I got a man to help me on to the car, and went to General But- ler's head-quarters, and got a permit to go to the Freeilmen's Hospital, connected with the Howard University, designed for the care mainly of old and decrepid negroes. When I got there, I was very ill with a hemorrhage from the bowels, and I felt gloomy and forsaken. I got some rest, and had the kindest 238 CRITICISING SOLOMON. treatment from the physic-inns in charge when they found out who I was, and I soon felt much better. I was sustained by an abiding faith in the protection of God, who had watched over me thus far in life, and who had stood by me in every trial and adversity, and this led me to hope for better days. I had been trying hard for an education since my conversion, and I made rapid strides in one department of knowledge at the Capital. I loarned more of human nature, during my sojourn here, than ever I expected to learn in life, and many things I was sorry to learn. Solomon had said, * By long forbearing is a prince persuaded, and a soft tongue breaketh the bone,' and I had been faithfully practicing on this very principle for several months, and won- dered why I did not succeed, and I came pretty near falling into a skeptical frame of mind ; but I happened to think, that brother Solomon had never been to Washington with a petition, if he had, he would have made an exception to this rule. But Solomon was right when he said, ' Confidence in an unfaithful man in time of trouble is like a broken tooth, and a foot out of joint,' and when I looked on a little further, and read, 'Every man is a friend to him that giveth gifts. All the brethren of the poor do hate him ; how much more do his friends go far from him ? He pursueth them with words, yet they are want- ing to him. The poor useth entreaties; but the rich answereth roughly.' I said, that's true anyhow, for I have learned that lesson from A to Z. It is pretty hard to eat with a broken tooth, or to travel with any comfort on a foot out of joint; yet I had tried to eat and travel too, upheld all through these months of waiting with * a strange belief, that leaned its idiot back on folly's topmost twig; a lazy, over-credulous faith that leaned on all it met, nor asked if 'twas a reed or oak;' but facts of experience drove this ignis-fatuus thoroughly from my mind, and the naked truth burst upon me while lying sick here in this hospital, that I must depend upon God and I. W. Ambler and his wife for our bread ; and I decided to go home as soon as I got able. GETTING MY BACK UP. 239 In some three weeks I got out, and went to the Military Com- mittee for my papers, as I di:l not want them to remain in their hands. These testimonials of my friends I wanted to preserve, so if I could leave nothing else to my children, I could leave an honorable record of which they might be proud when my poor bones slept in the dust. General C. told me to go to General M., and he said go to Mr. D., and the latter sent me to Mr. L., and L. told me that Mr. B. would get them. Ambler's back was up about this time. It seemed to me that there was a chance about getting even my papers back, and I straightened myself up, and said, ' Mr. L., I'll have those papers before I leave Washington, or I'll be a dead man, and somebody with me,' and, 'mirabile dictu? in ten minutes after this brief speech, Mr. L. beckoned to me, and General C. handed him the papers say- ing, with an upturned nose, ' Brother L., here are those docu- ments,' and L. passed them to me. I confess that I was in a passion when I made that speech, and I beg Mr. L.'s pardon, and I am pretty sure he will grant it, on reflection, for I had been chafing under the delay of months, until it had eaten up all my patience, and substance too ; but I meant all that I said at the time, and as much more as the reader has a mind to put to it. Therefore this confession. My next thought was how to get home, for I had no money. Some of my friends thought it would be good for my health to take a trip down the Alleghany, as far as Pittsburg. I went to Speaker Blaine again, who always encouraged and comforted me, and told him how things were, and he wrote a letter to ex-secretary Scott, who gave me a pass to Pittsburg. After I got my pass, I read the letter that Mr. B. had written. It so overflowed with sympathy for me, and set forth my condition so truthfully, that it touched me in a tender place, and I lost my mind. What intervened for a day or two I have no knowledge ; but when I came to myself, I was back in the Freedmen's Asylum. I soon got out, and thought it un- safe to go down to Pittsburg in my state of health. I decided to get home as soon as I could, and I called on General Butler, 240 MEETING IN WASHINGTON. who very kindly furnished me the following pass* to Maine; but I had no money to get me anything to eat on the road. It may be asked, why these officials did not furnish it. I wish to say here, that I was not a beggar, and I did not tell them I wanted money for that purpose. They were very kind to me, and if my pride had not kept me from telling them, they would have generously responded. I could ask them for a pass be- cause that came out of the government which was my debtor ; but I did not want them all to know just how snug on the wind I was running. Some of my friends wanted a speech before I left, and I caught at it as a good way to raise the ' wind,' and notice was given for a meeting in a hall on Pennsylvania ave- nue. A good number attended. I told them I must speak as I felt. I had just got out of the hospital, and had been read- ing the following in the National Republican, published at Washington, March 28, 1872 : ARE REPUBLICS UNGRATEFUL ? Ed. Republican, The aph- ovism which gave rise to the above query, and which has been so often asserted, and as frequently denied, seems to have found a practical demonstration in one case, at least, on the negative side ; and it would seem that a defender of the nation, who had made almost unparalleled sacrifices, prompted by the in- spiration of duty alone, and had left the countiy's service, after years of most arduous toil, sufferings, and hardships, a maimed, crippled, and helpless man, should, in justice, be entitled to, at least, as great a consideration as the man who served his ninety days and received never a wound, and saw never a battle. Such is the condition of Sergeant I. W. Ambler, personally and intimately known to the writer while in the army, whose WASHINGTON, April 16, 1872. Please furnish transportation from Washington to Biddeford, Me., for I. W. Am- bier, a Volunteer Soldier, disabled by injuries, en route to the Military Apyhim, and render account of the same to General Wm. S. Tllton, Treasurer of the Military Asy- lum at Augufta. To the agent of the B. & O. R. R. at Washington. I'.EXJ. F. BUTLEE, Manager A 7 ". A. D. V. S. WHAT THE PAPER SAID. 241 long personal service and experience in the English army pre- pared him for the duties of a drill-officer of very superior abil- ity. At the commencement of the war he was a city missionary in Biddeford, Maine. Two days after the first firing on Fort Sumter, he entered upon the work of instructing officers and soldiers in drill and tactics in Massachusetts, and continued his labors in Maine accompanying the Sixth Maine Regiment to Virginia in July, 1861. When the regiment marched through Baltimore with bayonets fixed and loaded muskets, in anticipa- tion of an attack, Sergeant Ambler was requested by Colonel Burnham to take charge of the colors of the regiment, which he did, and bore them safely through the city. During the stay of the regiment at Chain bridge, in what- ever active service they were required to go, Sergeant Ambler was ever among the foremost, and has been seen to snatch a muskel from the hands of an inactive sentry and press to the front, amid cheers and cries of 'Bully for Ambler!' lie re- mained with the regiment, doing constant and most arduous duty as drill-master, and instructing the officers in the sword and the soldiers in bayonet exercise, often volunteering to go on picket duty, and passing the night on picket line, displaying on each and every occasion indomitable energy, activity, and unfaltering courage. In August, 1SG1, he was prostrr.ted by a sun-stroke, from which he suffered extremely for many weeks, but returned to his labors as soon as able to be in the field, re- turning to Maine to recruit, where he continued with his won- derful energy and activity drilling the Thirteenth, Fifteenth, Sixteenth, Twenty-first, Twenty-third, and Twenty-fifth Maine Regiments, and First Maine Cavalry, besides hundreds of offi- cers and soldiers in Massachusetts. While giving instructions in bayonet exercise he received a severe and ugly wound, which shattered his left wrist, but with Spartan-like heroism, he lashed his arm behind his back, and continued with untiring energy to give instructions in fencing with his right hand, until an accident disabled that also; 16 242 TnE SAME. And this man, who has testimonials of the highest order from Generals McClellan, Meade, Burnside, Hooker, Chamberlain, Neal Dow, Cogswell, Fessendcn, Shepley, Devens, and from Governors Claflin, of Massachusetts ; Padelford, of Rhode Is- land; Stearns, of New Hampshire; ex-Governors Washbnrn, of Maine; Goodwin, of New Hampshire, and a host of judges, lawyers, doctors, and clergymen, and who has been maimed and permanently disabled in the cause of liberty and right, has never received from the government a single penny of compen- sation, or other recognition than the granting of railroad passes. Here we have a man who has given years of the best part of his life with a patriotism almost unequaled in history; has given his arm, which is forever useless, and has rendered ser- vices far more valuable to the army and the cause than he could have done as an officer of the line ; he has fought and bled for the Union, the country of his adoption ; but never having been mustered into the army as a soldier, has not and cannot receive pay for his services without special legislation from Congress ; and he now modestly asks that Congress will allow him to be mustered in with the rank only of sergeant, in order that he may receive compensation for his labors and sacrifices. The only objection made by any one to this act of justice, is that it will be made a precedent for others. The writer was with Sergeant Ambler while in the Sixth Maine Regiment, and can testify from intimate acquaintance, association, and personal practical experience of his uniform energy, activity, and proverbial courage ; also of the most ex- cellent moral influence exercised by him over the soldiers in a moral, religious, and temperance point, and of his kind-hearted and generous labors among the sick and suffering, as also will be heartily and gratefully affirmed by every member of the regiment In Heaven's name, if there are others who have sacrificed and suffered in the cause of freedom and the Union to such a degree as Sergeant Ambler has, let the * door be opened, and MY GREAT SPEECH. 243 the suffering, starving patriots be allowed to come in and re- ceive relief adequate to their services.' Let it be shown that there is one republic, at least, that can not only feel, but mani- fest that gratitude to her noble and heroic defenders in a more substantial manner than a mere hollow recognition. s. To be true to my promise to speak as I felt, of course I gave them a bad speech. I had not gone far before there was some disturbance, and I had to stop. One gentleman jumped up and handed me fourteen dollars, as a contribution from himself and wife, for telling the truth, as he said. This hushed them a lit- tle, and then followed cries of ' go on,' ' go on,' and on I went, telling them some things of which they were cognizant, ugly truths, and the more ugly because true. I told them I had seen men from Washington down in Maine and Massachusetts mak- ing speeches, who generally opened with, ' Fellow citizens, sol- diers, and comrades,' and who so overflowed with patriotism, and with their deeds of daring on the battle-field, that we al- most thought them angels created for the emergency, and who, 'Watchful, unhired, unbribed, and uncorrupt, And party only to the common weal In virtue's awful rage, pleaded for right ; With truth so clear, with argument so strong, With action so sincere, and tone so loud And deep, as made the despot quake behind His adamantine gates, and every joint In terror smite his fellow-joint relaxed ; Or, marching to the field in burnished steel While, frowning on his brow, tremendous hung The wrath of the whole people, and led them on To trample tyrants down, and drive invasion back. While, still they held inferior place, in steadfast Rectitude of soul. Great their self-denial, and Great their cares, and great the service done to God And man.' 244 DRIVING A BARGAIN. And then I asked, what had they done? They had never seen a battlefield, had never toiled for nought, could see the crippled soldier stand upon the corners of the streets with an empty cigar-box receiving the pennies from the passers by, while Priest and Levite like, they would pass them by on the other side, so poor, oh, 'poor as rats,' when calls like these appeared! From such a stench arose that smelled to heaven, so that even the old man in the moon, as he went sailing over the Capital at noon of night, would put his fingers on his nose lest his olfactory organs should be outraged. At this point, the meeting was disturbed again, and a man arose and asked what I would charge to stop, and it was pro- posed to give me fifty dollars to cork up my vials of wrath ; not that what I had said was untrue, but each wanted some chance to save his life, by escaping out of Sodom before I sank it utterly. Here was a good chance to drive a bargain. "Wisdom dictated to me to avail myself of it, and dry up, as I had nnlimbered my battery and charged on the enemy's works long enough to feel considerably relieved. The money was handed over, and with many a hearty shake of the hand I left. It was a curious meet- ing, a curious speech, a curious bargain, a success in raising a little money to pay my scot. Some paid because they valued the truth and the man that dared to speak it, and, I have no doubt, some helped to make up the fifty dollars to prevent my uncovering any more of the skeletons that were rotting about them. It put me in mind of the son of Erin, who was arrested on the charge of having committed a heinous crime, and dragged before the court without any one to plead his case. When he was ordered to stand up, and listen to the charge which had been brought against him, he made a great hulla-balloo, and excited considerable sympathy in the court, when the judge arose, and ordered him to compose himself, and be quiet, assuring him that justice should be done him, which added a, point to his sorrow, and he burst out, and said, 'If yer honor will allow me to say it, by me soule, its that same that I am afraid of.' M7 EXCUSE. 45 Reader, is it any wonder that I was a little bilious over the way I had been treated by some of the parties at the Capital, enduring months of vexatious delay, and weeks of sickness in a hospital not the best that could be found, my hopes of help all cut off, knowing that this last effort had cost me all the mon- ey I had, and all I could raise, and now I must go home and tell my poor wife that we must be turned out of doors, and all would have to go to my creditors. Well, if you cannot excuse me, I can excuse myself, for I could not respect Sergeant Am- bler if he had not showed a little spirit then. I don't mean to be understood to say that many of our pub- lic servants at the head of the government are not as noble, generous, self-denying, upright, and sympathetic men as can be found on earth ; but these good patriots and statesmen are an- noyed to death with a set of toadies, little, mean, bargaining, selfish, unscrupulous scamps, who are often numerous enough, by taking advantage of little technicalities and games of stav- ing off, to clog the wheels of just legislation, an occasion often of painful and ruinous delay, and the course of such is cause often of unjust reflection upon intelligent and patriotic states- men. 246 GETTING SOME COMFORT. CHAPTER XXXI. THE next morning, I shook off the dust of my feet as a testi- mony against the place, for the suffering, anxiety, and poverty that the five months spent in Washington had brought upon me, and bent my weary steps toward the depot, a sadder, but a wiser man than when I left home. On my lonesome way back to Maine, for it is the loneliest place in the world to be sur- rounded with a crowd of strange faces, either in the cars or on the thronged thoroughfare, I had a great many thoughts arise as to what I was made for, why I lived, what use I could make of all these strange and bitter experiences ; and I said, if this is the training and drill that Heaven gives to fit me to battle for spiritual freedom for myself and others, O God, put me through, so I can parry all the longes of Satan, and fit me to teach the heavenly drill to thy disciples, so I can lead them on to victory. I got happy Avith such meditations on the road, and never felt more like going through the whole war, under the great Cap- tain of our salvation, until the final muster for all hands to re- ceive an honorable discharge, and be welcomed where we shall walk the mount of bliss, that lifts its summit high, sublime in glory ; talking with our peers of the incarnate Saviour's love, and past affliction lost in present joy. Oh, wondrous joy! a distant view of which makes pilgrims walk the billows of life's stormy seas, sublimely lifted up above all fear of sinking in their awful depths. How ashamed I felt to think I had ever murmured when thus I rode upon the wings of faith above all earthly things. Yet so it is sometimes. On arriving in Bos- ton, I met my wife, who passed me by, and would not have BATTLE WITH THE DEVIL. 247 recognized me if I had not called her by name. I had lost a little less than forty pounds in weight, pale and ragged, and after gazing a moment she rushed into my arms and burst into tears. We journeyed home in company, telling each other on the way our several experiences. She, of the way our creditors had sued and seized our little effects in the shop, in which she was trying to make a living ; and I, of what the reader already knows. Yet we were rich in each other's love, and the love of God, for were we not ' persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other crea- ture, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.' My first business was to reconnoitre the ground, and throw up such works as my present weakened condition demanded, to prevent the enemy from carrying everything. I had lost some ground by giving way too much to my poverty. The devil made a terrific charge in this direction, telling me 'what a poor miserable drunkard I had been ; how little I had done since my conversion ; that I had published my follies in a book ; that as an excuse for putting out a book I wanted to get money to ed- ucate myself with, and I had left the missionary work for the drill-room and the front ; used up my little funds for other pur- poses ; had accomplished nothing ; and last, but not least, I had shown a soft spot in my head by presuming on anything in the shape of recognition and remuneration for anything done for the country ; and now I had better come over to the old camp, and drink and enjoy myself, and let other folks look out for themselves.' I hud a hard tussle with the old fellow, but I re- solved ' to fight it out on this line.' I plead guilty to all these charges but the last, which I denied ; for the people constitute the country, and when the facts are understood by them they will appreciate them and render a just verdict, and demand of their public servants that justice be done; and so I claimed that my head was level on that point, and what was required 248 FIGHTING IT OUT. now was to 'wait for the wagon,' and Ambler 'would take a vide.' To the others on which I pled guilty, I argued justifi- cation. I am a great stickler for that blessing, and envy no- body when I am in possession of that. As to the first charge, of having been a drunkard, and published it also, I admitted it, and from that stand-point I made my strongest appeal ; having tasted the woes of the drunkard, I could reach them as no man could who had always lived a temperate life; and so I said, Mr. devil, rum made me what I was, religion made me what I am ; and through this experience I could lift up the poor drunkard. So this was turned into a chapter of power. Then my not having done but little, was a very good reason why I should do more still ; I thanked God that I had done a little, and I got some justification out of that. The reason also for putting out my first book, to get funds to educate myself with, was all true, and had I not, in the disposal of it, educated myself greatly into the mysteries of human nature, the very field of power and success, of which many theologians are ignorant, and without which no man can be successful. Why, the very greenness of these fledglings that talk so tenderly and reverently of their literary ''Alma-mater] makes them a butt of ridicule sometimes when they come in actual contact with live men of business and shrewd good common sense. The thinness of these shadowy men make them targets for many a practical shot. So if I can have only one of two things, viz., a smattering of books, or an actual practical knowledge of men as we meet them, give me the latter, if I want to catch them in the gospel net. As for leaving the missionary work for the drill-room, I was sure that I could take the missionary or Christian work along with me. I locked upon it as right, yen, as Christian duty, to train men effectually to resist the devil, when he assumed the garb of rebellion, and if a Christian had not a weapon, and was so short as to have to sell his coat to buy one, it was his duty to do it, and route the rebels at any cost ; so to save to poster- ity, to our children, the best government the sun ever shone FIGHTING BY PROXY. 249 upon. What was there for them but this, where every man is the peer of his fellow, and even a 'rail-splitter' can become a president, and honored and lored in life, and for whom when he dies, a whole nation mourns. He that for such a heritage, to sustain such a country, would not use his money, spill his blood, go maimed and crippled all his days, live and die in poverty, is unworthy the name of patriot. Now I flattered myself that I had done something for my country personally and by proxy; my pupils were fighting in every battle, among the heroes on every victorious field. Their skill in the use of arms often at- tested this ; and of their bravery, many a rebel had stinging proof, and honorable mention is made of their heroic deeds in the archives of the States. I had drilled thousands of officers, and probably ten thousand men, more or less, for this noble work. Let me give the record of one or two. Here is the ad- jutant-general's report of the noble Captain Reuel "W. Furlong, of Calais, who entered the service July 15, 1861, as lieutenant of company D., Sixth Maine Regiment Infantry, and was after- wards promoted to captain, his rank dating March 17, 1863. He lost his life in the battle of the Rappahannock Station, Nov. 7, 1864, after acquitting himself as a valiant and Christian hero. In this battle, he led one of the most brilliant charges of the war. The regiment at that time was merely deployed as skir- mishers, but drove an entire line of battle from their intrench- ments, and then held them. Up the ascent, across rifle-pits, and into the intrenchments, where it almost literally rained lead and iron, some portions of the time actually facing ten times its own number, the regiment went alone, and held the position until the Fifth Wisconsin went to its aid. Such was the scene in which the gallant Captain Furlong offered up his life. He had previously signalized himself at Hagerstown, on the 12th of July, where, going beyond the skirmish line, with only twen- ty-four men, he made a charge on the enemy, killing and wounding twenty-one men and taking thirty-nine prisoners. With such acts, he made a bold, clear record, as a truly brave 250 ^ BRAVE COUNTEYMAN. soldier and efficient officer.' This was the same man that I mentioned before as playing a clever trick on some rebs, when in company with myself we were going down from Chain bridge to Arlington, on the other side of the Potomac. I shall be pardoned by the reader for alluding to a countryman of mine, Captain John H. Ballanger, a brave soldier, who was in my company when we were serving under Wellington. He entered the army as a private when the rebellion first broke out, in April, 1861, at Muchias. He was an ardent lover of his adopted country, and resolved to defend the stars and stripes without bounty or pledges of promotion. As soon as the company was organized he was chosen first lieutenant. The company was assigned to the Sixth Maine Volunteers as com- pany C. I had drilled him in the old country, and had continued to drill him with others of the Sixth Maine Volunteers in camp at Portland, and during my stay with the regiment in Virginia. I knew he was every inch a soldier, and expected a good report from him. The adjutant-general shall tell the story. He writes thus of him, ' Having previously served several years in the English army, he had a most thorough knowledge of all the details of the service, and was therefore well-fitted for the dis- charge of every duty which devolved upon him. 'In March, 1862, on the very day that the army of the Poto- mac broke camp to commence active operations against the enemy for the first time, Lieutenant Ballanger was promoted to the command of his company. With it he landed at Old Point Comfort, in the latter part of the month, and marched up the Peninsula. He fought during the siege of Yorktown, and par- ticipated in the battle of Lee's Mills and Williamsburg, leading his company with ability and gallantry. He led it up the Pen- insula in the advance on Richmond, took part in the principal operations of the army in the vicinity of that city, and, during the " seven days' battles," fought with it at Garnett's Farm, Sav- age Station, and White Oak Swamp. Naturally of a sanguine and hopeful temperament, he endured hardships cheerfully, dis- HIS DEATH. 251 played marked coolness and bravery in action, almost laughed at disaster, and despaired not in the least degree, even when the army arrived at Harrison's Landing, crippled and worn out. '"When the tide of war surged into Maryland, Captain Bal- langer fought at the head of his company at Sugar Loaf Moun- tain, Crampton's Pass, and Antietam. Late in the autumn, he again marched into Virginia, and fought with his men at the battle of Fredericksburg. During the winter of 1862-3, he vis- ited his home on leave of absence for fifteen days, the only time he was absent from duty during his entire term of service. 'When active operations were resumed in the spring of 1863, Captain B. with his regiment took part in the preliminary op- erations about Fredericksburg, being on the skirmish line with his company and hotly engaged with the enemy in a skirmish near Franklin's Crossing, May 2. He also led his company in the assault upon the heights of St. Mary, cheering them with unusual gallantry. 'When half-way up the heights, however, and just as he was entering the first rifle-pit, a minie ball crashed through his brain, instantly terminating his patriotic and heroic career. After the enemy wa<- routed and the works captured, his com- rades buried him where he had fallen, on the slope made sacred by his blood and that of many of his brave followers. The memory of his heroic deeds will be gratefully cherished by the loyal hearts of a redeemed nation.' Another pupil of mine was Brigadier-general Hiram Burn- ham, who entered the Sixth Maine Regiment and was elected lieutenant-colonel. This regiment was mustered in at Portland, July 15, 1861, and was ordered immediately to Washington, where it arrived July 19th, and was stationed at Chain bridge, a few miles above Washington. The command of the regiment devolved upon Lieutenant-colonel Burnham. I gave him a full course of instruction in all the various exercises in drill. The whole regiment was under my instruction at home and at Chain 2f,2 A WELL DRILLED PUPIL. bridge. I predicted brilliant things of Colonel B., on account of his quickness of perception of the different military move- ments, needed in charging and meeting the charges of the ene- my, and I never had a man develop so rapidly in drill, and the skill with which he performed the broadsword and bayonet ex- ercises, and going through the word of command, made him no mean antagonist for an expert to grapple with. The drill of the Sixth Maine Volunteers devolved entirely upon him after I left. It could not have been left in better hands, and the adjutant- general, in his report of General Burnham, writes thus: ' While the army of the Potomac remained in front of Washington, from October, 1861, to March, 1862, Colonel Burnham made good use of the time in drilling and disciplining his regiment, and when, at last, a movement was made by the way of the Peninsula, he had the reputation of commanding one- of the most efficient organizations of the army? Here I think the drill-master can be tracked pretty plainly; but I must give you something more, for it is a shame that so little has been said of the glorious Sixth Regiment, and I know the reader will par- don me for bringing out something of the work of the Sixth Maine in its identification with General B. In the second battle of Fredericksb'mjr, after crossing the Rappahamiock, history says : ' Early in tue forenoon the Fifth were relieved by the noble Sixth Maine and some other troops, who soon opened a severe and rapid fire upon the enemy. The fire was returned with energy. On the right, "Fighting Joe Hooker" had engaged the enemy, and had met with success. ' Under the fire of the rebel batteries, Newton's and Burn- ham's regiments lay, some in the outskirts of the town, and some in the cemetery, until General Sedgwick gave the order to advance. When almost at the same time, both the com- mands moved up the glacis toward the hights. The Seventh Massachusetts, and Thirty-sixth New York pushed forward up the telegraph road, against the stone-wall bearing to the right of the road. Their haversacks and knapsacks were left behind, that they might be unincumbered with useless burdens. As THE GLORIOUS SIXTH MAINE. 53 they approached within about three hundred yards of the wall, a murderous volley checked the advance, and threw the head of the column into disorder. In two minutes the men were rallied, and again they approached the wall, nearer this time than before. A third time they rallied ! this time they pushed straight forward to the works. 'Another column under Colonel Spear started briskly for- ward, divested like the others of knapsacks and haversacks. Marching from the town at double-quick in column of four ranks, they crossed the bridge just outside of the city, when its gallant leader received his mortal wound, and fell at the head of his men. The Sixty-first New York, which led the column, shocked at the death of their beloved leader, broke, and in confusion turned toward the town. This unfortunate confusion spread to the men of the Forty-third New York, who, checked by the disordered mass in their front, and sub- mitted to a galling fire, also commenced falling back; but speedily both commands rallied and bounded forward. They reached the hights soon after the columns on the right, captur- ing a gun and many prisoners. The Sixth Maine Regiment marched at the head of the columns in line of battle under Colonel Burnham, who advanced on the left of the road. Leaving everything behind them but their guns and ammuni- tion, they continued their advance on the enemy, encountering a shower of bullets, grape, and canister, as soon as they arose above the slight knoll which had partially concealed them. * The Fifth Maine looked with wondering admiration upon the advancing lines, and when they saw the Sixth Maine with their flag flying at the head of the columns, they cried out, 'Our flag! our flag! 'tis the flag of the glorious Sixth Maine! hurrah ! hurrah ! " " Cheers, cheers for our soldiers, Rough, wrinkled, and brown, The men who make heroes And ask no renown ; Unselfish, untired, intrepid, and true, The bulwark surrounding the red, white, and blue." 254 TERRIBLE SLAUGHTER. * The Sixth Maine was worthy of the position, its color-guard now bounding forward, now halting a moment for the men to come up, then dashing forward again in the storm of "leaden rain and iron hail," until finally gaining the bights, they planted their flag upon the summit, where the glorious stars and stripes waved in triumph. It was a thrilling spectacle, and filled our hearts with pride. This light division had reason to be proud of its comrades, proud of the Sixth Maine, of its gallant boys. The light division secured, as trophies of this battle, over seven hundred prisoners, and five cannon. It was a glorious day for the Sixth Maine. Never was a charge more gallantly made; but it was, too, a sad day, for many hundreds of our brave com- rades lay stretched in death along the glacis, and on the steep ascent, in the ravines, and along the road. More than three thousand wounded men were brought into the city before nightfall.' It is a very easy thing to talk of war ; but it is a very differ- ent thing to take part in it, or to view the field after it is all over, to see the mangled bodies lying in all directions, and in all positions as they fell, their bowels torn out with shot and shell, some with headless trunks, limbs torn off and broken, others covered with blood and dirt, their hands sometimes full of dirt, leaves, or twigs, which they had grasped in their dying struggles. Some with upturned faces, bespattered with blood, pale and ghastly, their sightless, but glaring eyes looking up to heaven as if in mute appeal, when the spirit took its flight. And many a moaning, suffering hero, lying terribly wounded on the field for days before he can be properly cared for. General Burnham gave me a description of the battle person- ally, only a few days before he went back to the front, where he fell a martyr to the cause of liberty and union. I shall never forget it, as he held me by the hand, when he said with a trem- ulous voice, showing that he felt the words he uttered in the depths of his soul, ' Sergeant, I thank God Almighty for his safe deliverance from such a horrid scene, for a more terrible fire GENERAL BURNHAWS ACCOUNT. 255 was never beard or witnessed than that which was opened upon us. We were actually under a cross fire ; guns in our front and on each flank firing down upon us from the heights as we marched along the glacis and up the steep ascent. The rebels poured down their shot upon us like hailstones. It seemed a providence of God that any one escaped, and, drill-master, the instructions you gave me seemed to ring in my ears, so I re- membered every step to be taken on a charge, and the word of command as plain as if it had been given but the day before, and as we charged up the heights I kept shouting to my men " steady boys, keep in line," and then ordered the boys to charge on their batteries. With only one fierce yell they dashed for- ward up to the muzzles of the rebel guns, and bayoneted them in their own batteries. I remembered you and your drill when I saw the boys fighting hand to hand with the rebels in close quarters, stabbing one another with their bayonets, the blood spouting over their firelocks until they were so covered and slippery with blood that they had to grip them hard to keep their hold, and I frequently gave the word of command, " Steady, boys, keep cool." And as the rebs thickened on one side, and then on the other, in their vain attempts at rallying, I would command, "On the right, shorten!" "On the left, shorten!" "Thrust!"* "Charge!" "Butt to the front!" " Strike ! " ' f Reader, every officer in this regiment understood the broad- sword exercise and the bayonet, and every non-commissioned officer and private understood thoroughly the bayonet exercise, * First Seize tht? piece with the right hand in front of the left, let go with the left hand, and extend the piece quickly to the rear with the right arm ; then seize the piece again with the left hand at the muzzle. Second Thrust the piece quickly for- ward to the full length of the left arm, the point of the bayonet at the height of the breast, at the same time straighten the right leg vigorously. t First Extend the right arm forcibly, and to its full length, to the front, the bar- rel falling to the rear and resting on the right shoulder; straighten quickly the right leg, and direct the blow at the height of the belly. Second Follow the blow with the butt oy one over the head with the stock. Third After the blow to the front the piece should always be brought down iorcibly on returning to guard, to represent the blow with the stock. "56 GENERAL J1URN2IAATS GALLANTRY. and every word of command in all the evolutions and changes necessary in a hand-to-hand fight; and the boys were thorough- ly in hand, and, under the command of their skillful and heroic leader, they could be hurled against any given point with such a fearful shock as to compel them to give way before them. No matter what position they were thrown into, every one had been taught, and a word brought them into any other position needed with the ever varying, changing, surging masses. So they were never lost under the word of command, no matter what order was given. Such men, so trained, retain their pres- ence of mind, are always cool, and can always be relied upon in these fearful shocks of hand-to-hand conflicts, and this was what carried the day, and. won for the Union this battle against i'earful odds. This regiment was assigned to the Fourth Corps, Major-gen- eral D. Keyes commanding. With this corps, Colonel Burnham participated in the siege at Yorktown, and his command received the thanks of General McClellan for a successful and brilliant charge on the enemy, in which no other troops were engaged. The report goes on to say, ' He was in the battle at Lee's Mills. At Williamsburg, he distinguished himself in Hancock's bril- liant charge on the right of the lines, which virtually decided the battle. So sensible was General McClellan of Colonel Burnham's services on this occasion, that he personally ad- dressed his regiment, a few days after the battle, thanking them for their gallantry and good behavior. In front of Richmond, Colonel Burnham participated in all the operations of the army. In the " seven days' battles " he again bore a conspicuous part, his command being engaged with the enemy at Golding's Farm, Savage's Station, White Oak Swamp, and Malvern Hill (the reader will please keep in his mind that the Sixth Regiment is with him right along). His uniform gallantry and efficiency in all these contests, did not escape the observation of his su- perior officers, and on arriving at Harrison's Bar, General Hancock, Smith, and Franklin, united in recommending him for promotion. GENERAL BURNIIAWS GALLANTRY. 257 In the battle of Antietara, Sept. 17th, Colonel Burnham dis- played his usual coolness and bravery. General Smith organized a light division, composed of the picked men of his corps, in which Colonel B. was assigned to duty. The famous charge of the light division, on the 3d of May, 1863, through 'Slaughter-pen,' over the stone-wall, and up the heights of St. Mary, carrying the enemy's strong works, and capturing a battery of seven guns, with many prisoners, again added to the laurels of this officer. General Sedgwick, who witnessed this desperate and successful assault, and the cool valor of Colonel Burnham as he led his men on to victory, rode forward to the captured works, and while the battle yet raged fiercely, thanked him for his glorious achievement, and assured him that his services should be rewarded with promo- tion at an early day. When General Sedgwick deemed it necessary to withdraw his troops to the left bank of the Rap- pahannock, to Colonel Burnham Avas assigned the important duty of covering the withdrawal of the corps; a perilous duty, which he performed to the full satisfaction of the general in command. The reduced state of the army made it necessary, soon after this, to break up the light division, and General Sedgwick, in general orders, expressed his regret at the necessity which com- pelled this step, saying, that its services fairly entitled it to a permanent organization, and its gallant leader, Colonel Burn- ham, to its permanent command. In the fall of 1863, Colonel Burnham's health being com- pletely shattered by his long, arduous, and exhausting labors, he was detailed to superintend the recruiting service for his regiment in Maine, on which duty he remained until February, 1864. During most of the time, he was also president of a general court-martial convened in Portland. On returning to active service, Colonel Burnham was assigned to the command of the brigade in which his regiment was serving, and so con- tinued until he was promoted to the rank of brigadier-general, 17 258 GENERAL BTTRNIIAWS GALLANTRY. April 15, 1804. At tin; request of General Smith, his old com- mander, who was organizing a force at Yorktown, to operate on the south side of the James river, he was ordered to report fur service in this force, and assigned to the command ot the Secoiid Brigade, First Division, Thirteenth Army Corps. He participated with the army of the James in the movement up the river, and in the subsequent operations at Bermuda Hundred. His command was constantly engaged with the enemy during these operations, and his gallantry and efficiency were never more conspicuous and serviceable. During the unfortunate battle near Drury's Bluff, May 16th, he is reported as performing prodigies of valor. Holding his position for hours after our lines were beaten back at other points, he repulsed continuous and determined attacks of the enemy, and captured numerous prisoners. Although two horses were shot under him during this hotly contested en- gagement, he miraculously escaped uninjured. In the attack upon Petersburg, June 15th, he stormed and carried the ene- my's works with his skirmishers, capturing five pieces of artil lery and a considerable number of prisoners. Of this affair an eye-witness wrote : ' The success which he achieved placed Petersburg in the grasp of our Union forces, and had there remained two hours of daylight, the terrible struggle which was subsequently waged around the " cockade city " would never have taken place.' His health failing, he proceeded north, and recruited himself somewhat, with a few r weeks' quiet with his family, when he again returned to his command. Preparations were being made for an attack upon the enemy's fortifications at Chapiu's Farm. Within twenty-four hours after his return, he marshaled his men for a last battle against the enemies of his country. Dur- ing the night of Sept. 28th, a pontoon bridge was thrown across the James at Aiken's landing, the 18th corps crossed, and with the first gleam of morning light commenced an attack upon the rebels. General Burnham was selected to lead the attack- GENERAL BURNHAM'S LEATIL 259 ing column. At a short distance from the crossing, he came upon the enemy's skirmishers strongly intrenched. They were speedily routed and pushed back toward their fortifications. A running fire ensued, the rebels being driven rapidly. At a dis- tance of about two ,miles from the river, General Burnham came upon the enemy's works at Chapin's farm, and commenced the assault. The struggle was desperate and bloody; but the determined resistance of the enemy was in vain. General Burnham carried their works triumphantly, capturing all their artillery, and hundreds of prisoners. Still the enemy clung to a portion of the line, and from the right poured down a de- structive fire upon our victorious forces. General Burnham, who had now dismounted in order to enter the captured fort, now rallied such of his force as he could assemble, and was making a detour to the rear of these troublesome rebels, in order to attack them and secure their capture. As he cheered on his men, a minie ball pierced his abdomen and he fell. Sorely wounded though he was, and in the agonies of death, he retained all his mental faculties, and saw his approaching death with a composure and resignation which well became so distinguished a soldier, so eminent a patriot, so true a man. With shortening breath, he spoke of his family ; and then, as his long and unselfish services for his country seemed to flit through his mind, he said, 'I have tried to do my duty? when he died without a struggle, as he was bein^ carried from the field he oo * o BO nobly won. In honor of his memory, the fort which his stern valor won, was called Fort Burnham. It will be seen by this account, that Colonel Burnham and the Sixth Maine Regiment, so illustrious for capacity, coolness, and bravery and here represented by the adjutant-general as one of the best-drilled organizations in the army, yielded the fruits to be expected, as the result of proper education in all the depart- ments of military drill, a truth which I had labored hard to impress upon all with whom I had anything to do. I had con- 260 FRUITS OF GOOD DRILLING. tended earnestly, that many disasters which occurred, in the shape of panics and utter routes and defeat, resulted from want of proper drilling. The officers and men getting confused, by not being perfectly familiar with all the tactics of war, lost confidence in themselves, became panic-stricken, and defeat was often the result, when victory should have been won. General Burnham and his noble regiment had confidence in their knowledge of arms, and in themselves because of it ; and hence were never flustrated, and in their charges on the enemy, and in their defense when charged, to an observer carried with them an air of sublimity and moral grandeur which could not fail to extort praise from even their enemies. How much more from friends anxiously watching their career, when in the fierc- est conflicts with the foe. I mention only these specimens of good training, to show how far and wide, in a war like ours, may be the influence of even one competent drill-master, who devotes his time as I did from April, 1861, until April, 1865, to educating the officers and privates by thousands, in the drill-room and on the field. Who can tell how much the little that I had done had to do with saving the lives of our boys, especially when on a charge, or in personal conflicts with the foe; or how much it had to do with the general issue ; or with the time when rebellion re- ceived its final blow? Asrnin and acrain 1 received letters of o o thanks, from both men and officers, telling me that they Avere indebted to the instruction I had given them for the preserva- tion of their lives. I will give one which was sent from the front to the ITennebec Journal by some officers of the Sixth Maine, when they heard that I had been crippled in the work : To THE PRESS AND THE PEOPLE OF MAINE. The under- signed, members of the Sixth Maine Regiment of Volunteers, are desirous of calling the attention of the people of our State to the present position and distress of Sergeant I. W. Ambler, of Biddeford, and of publicly testifying our gratitude to him for the invaluable service he has rendered to us. HOW I WAS JUSTIFIED. 261 Sergeant Ambler was engaged in drilling our regiment, both officers and men, for several months last year in the vicinity of Washington, and to his instructions, we believe, the regiment owes very much of its efficiency and success. To his teachings some of us owe the preservation of our lives upon the field of battle. He has also been engaged in drilling and instructing other of our Maine regiments and many individuals connected with the service, both as officers and privates. He is now disabled by wounds received while engaged in this noble work, and without the means of earning his sup- port. Such a man should not suffer while a country remains which we can call our own. (Signed by) C. EDES, ] L. H. WHITTIER, WM. SHERMAN, > Sixth Maine, SIDNEY W. TUCKER, F. G. LEIGHTOH, I, therefore, felt the blessing of justification on this depart- ment of my life. Proud of the part I had acted in this drama, proud to be one of the defenders of National juiberty, and I came to the conclusion, that ' Uncle Sam ' would hardly know the difference between his natural and his adopted children, and would, on the whole, deal as liberally with one as the other. So, my reader, I found a good deal of comfort in reviewing the whole matter, and I said to myself, my life has not been a blot or a blank, and so giving myself to God and my country, there is no part of my life that I cannot use for the good of my fellow men. And 1 got a complete victory over the devil in my tussle with him, when he began to throw his fiery darts. Paul had told me how to do it. He said, after I had got the rest of the armor on, 'Above all, taking the shield of faith, wherewith ye shall be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked.' So I held up this precious shield, and with it I could 262 HOW I WAS JUSTIFIED. parry in prime or tierce, or develop in seconde, all the lunges of the devil. Then I had a little more to comfort me. I found, on a review, that I had personally got more than a thousand men into the service, of my own countrymen, besides as many more native born Americans, who told on the enemy in the great strife. I had the advantage of most men in being a soldier and a drill-master myself, and I could have put thou- sands of dollars in my pocket, if I had played the broker in getting them ; but all these temptations had no influence with me; but with singleness of purpose, aiming to do the most good in every way in my power, to relieve, protect, and defend my adopted country and flag, I worked early and late, and al- most day and night, as much as in me lay, as I promised to do when I made my first speech from the balcony of the old Mas- sachusetts State-house, on that memorable Sabbath to which I have referred. So over the whole road, there were flowers strewn for my comfort. It may be said by some, how is it that Ambler finds flowers in looking over a war record ? Strange place for flowers! A strange place among mangled heroes, on bloody battle-fields to find anything like solace! I admit it ; but go with me, and you shall see how it is done. There is a sublimity on a field of battle that is developed no- where else, as it is there, an utter self-abnegation, and forget- fulness of everything but one's country, so that even boys, when the death-rattle is in their very throats, cheer their flags and give up the ghost. At the hospitals at Dallis, among the patriot wounded was a boy only nineteen years old. The glo- rious victory achieved in the battle where he fell, inspired him with enthusiastic joy, notwithstanding the pain from his wounds was intense. The surgeon as he examined the ghastly wound, sadly informed him that he must die, and that his end was very near. Glancing for a moment at his torn and blood- stained limb, a tear glistened in his eye. Drawing from his bosom the picture of his mother, he kissed it, and gave it with HEROISM. 63 a letter to a comrade, and asked him to see that it was sent to her. Then calling a friend to his side, he grasped his hand, saying: ' Matt, they tell me that lam about to die. Before I go, let us give three cheers for the glorious old Union? He raised himself up in his bed ; but the effort was too much for his exhausted frame, and he sank back upon his pillow, and immediately expired. Look at Thomas Jackson, coxswain of the frigate Wabash. His leg was torn off by a shell, so that it hung by a small portion of the muscle and skin. He delib- erately took out his belt-knife, and tried to sever the leg from his body ; but the knife was so dull, though he sawed manfully, that he could not separate it. He was taken below, and died in two hours, saying to his comrades that stood about him, '-Boys, Iain happy to suffer for the dear old flag? What a nobility is this! A country cannot die with such patriots teeming all through her land. See how battles make heroes, making men utterly careless of death. Let me give you a letter of a thorough soldier, a captain in the Enniskillen dragoons, under Wellington, during the Cri- mean war: November 2. DEAB JACK, I am, you see, alive at this date, but God knows for how long after. You have, I presume, devoured all the ac- counts which have been sent home, as to our glorious charge. Ob, such a charge ! Never think of the gallop and trot which you have often witnessed in the Phoenix park when you desire to form a notion of a genuine blood-hot,* all mad charge, such as that I have come out of with a few lance prods, minus some gold lace, a helmet chain, and brown Bill's (the charger's) right ear. From the moment we dashed at the enemy, whose position, and so forth, you doubtless know as much about as I can tell you, I knew nothing, but that I was impelled by some irresistible force onward, and by some invisible and impercepti- ble influence to crush every obstacle which stumbled before my good sword and brave old charger. I never in my life experi- 264 SOLDIER'S LETTER. enccd such a sublime sensation as in the moment of the charge. Some fellows talk of its being 'demoniac.' I know this, that it was such as made me a match for any two ordinary men, and gave me such an amount of glorious indifference as to life, as I thought it impossible to be master of. It would do your Celtic heart good to hear the most magnificent cheers with which we dashed into what P W calls 'the gully sc'rimage.' For- ward dash bang clank, and there we were in the midst of such smoke, cheer, and clatter as nev^r before stunned a mortal's ear. It was glorious. Down one by one, aye, two by two, fell the thick-skulled and over-numerous Cossasks and other lads of the tribe of Old Nick. Down too, alas, fell many a hero with a warm Celtic heart, and more than one fell screaming loud for victory. I could not pause, I was all push, wheel, frenzy, strike, and down, down, down they went. Twice I was unhorsed, and more than once I had to grip my sword tighter, the blood of foes streaming down over the hilt and running up my very sleeve. Our old Waterloo comrades, the Scott Grays, and our- selves, were the only fellows who flung headlong first into the very heart of the Muscoves. Now we were lost in their ranks now in little bands battling now in good order together now in and now out, until the whole 'levies' on the spot plunged into a forming body of the enemy, and helped us to end the fight by compelling the foe to fly. Never did men run so vehemently but all this you have read in the papers. I cannot depict my feelings when we returned. I sat down completely exhausted and unable to eat, though deadly hungry. All my uniform, iny hands, my very face were bespattered with blood. It was that of the enemy. Grand idea! But my feelings, they were full of that exultation which it is impossi- ble to describe. At least twelve Russians were sent wholly out of the 'way of the war' by my good steel alone, and at least as many more put on the passage to that peaceful exit by the same excellent weapon. So, also, can others say. What a tiling to reflect on ! I have almost grown a soldier philosopher, THE LESSONS OF WAR. 2G5 and most probably will one of these days, if the bullets which are flying about so abundantly give me time to brush up. My dear fellow, our countrymen have not tarnished their fame in this battle. Gallantry and glory will never abandon the march of Celtic bands, never! Oh, that I could have patience to write you of such deeds of individual heroism as have come within my notice ! Fictionists are shabby judges of true bravery. No novel ever had sham hero, who comes up to the realities I have witnessed. One of my troops, for in- stance, had his horse shot under him in the melee. ' Bloody wars,' he roared, ' this wont do,' and right at a Russian he ran, pulled him from his horse by the sword-hand in the most ex- traordinary manner; then deliberately cutting off his head as he came down, vaulted into the saddle, and turning the Russian charger against its late friends, fought his way through. This took less time to do than it takes me to tell it. Dear Jack, there are deeds of daring when you encounter an enemy, as I have done, in a hand to hand fight with the sword. The first sword-cut that I received was two and a half inches long, which I will show you if ever I see you. Good-by, old boy. From your friend and comrade, THOMAS NIGLOON. I can see in this war, as in the war of the Revolution, the throes of a nobler manhood. The travail of a government, in giving birth to a higher state of liberty and equality, so that when it is delivered of that, of, and for which it has travailed in pain and in blood, it shall rejoice like the mother over her last-born and most perfect child, who shall bear her name and fame down the long years of posterity. As Tyrrell says, ' Let us pause and reflect upon this history of carnage and horror ! We would fain that such gigantic calamities should yield some good to humanity, some lessons to the world. If seas and mountains have their meaning, and 266 TlIE LESSONS OF WAK. with a silent yet sublime eloquence which is felt, not heard, impress on the beholder elevating and gentle thoughts; if the hoarse murmur or shrill scream of the bleak wind through the dense dim forests has a voice to those who listen in the spirit of the seer; if stones, and trees, and running brooks preach mute sermons to the philosophic mind; if the mysterious and silent stars sing in their course like millions of radiant angels, and shed an inspiration on the rapt beholder, if these things are so (and in a metaphorical sense they are), then surely war, in all its ghastly and fiendish majesty, war, with its regal preparations, with its pomp, its gold, its scarlet and blue, and its grand swelling strains of music, war, with its roarings and its thunders, with its terrific lightnings, which more than rival those of heaven, with its cataracts of fire, hurling from ten thousand iron mouths the deadly messengers whose shocks are as if some infernal deity had smote the staggering earth, until the mountains reeled, and the astonished sea stood still, war, the stupendous destroyer, who sows in wantonness and reaps in blood, whose dreadful harvests are the gory fields, covered with mangled corpses, with blood-bespattered faces, and sight- less glaring eyes, fixed on the blue vault of heaven, as if vainly appealing to the merciful God, who seems for a time to have abandoned his creation, and have given it over to be the grim sport of fiends ; surely this dreadful power has its teachings if we could but glean them.' I could not draw much comfort from such scenes as these, did I not have a perfect faith in an overruling providence, who has some plans laid, the founda- tions of which rest too deep for common fathoming. There is an awfulness when the tempest rages, that strikes many beholders with terror, from before which the fowls of heaven fly away to the deep, dark forests and hide themselves, and the lowing herds sweep over hill and plain to some shel- tered spot; but I see in the sharp lightning's flash, and I hear in the deep-toned thunder, the way God takes to cleanse the air and sweeten it for man. There are very few that look upon the THE LESSONS OF WAR. 267 sale of Joseph by his brethren, with any sort of reconciliation; but when the end is seen from the beginning, there is a com- pleteness about it that reflects much of the divine wisdom and power of God, without by any means justifying the motives of Joseph's brethren, or abating a jot from their wickedness ; but Joseph saw the divine plan when he said to his brethren, ' Now, therefore, be not grieved nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither, for God did send me before you to preserve life. So now it was not you that sent me hither, but God, and he hath made me a father to Pharaoh, and lord of all his house, and a ruler throughout all the land of Egypt.' So when the rebels fired on Fort Sumter, and commenced this terrible war for nothing else but to perpetuate slavery, God meant that first gun for the luneral knell of that horrid institution, and so through the long and bloody strife that was meant to rivet the chains forever by wicked men, the great Ruler of nations meant it should strike them off, and make this great people a nation of freemen. And so 1 gather comfort from the rebellion, not that men rebelled, not that so many were slain, but that God has overruled this war, and through it, brought us as a country up to a higher patriotism, made us a nobler people, a better model for the nations of the earth to pattern after, and I had helped to accomplish this. 68 JOB'S TURKEY. CHAPTER XXXIII. IT now remained for me to lay my plans as best I could for future operations. The war was ended. So there was no more for me to do in that direction ; but the great fight was still go- ing on between the kingdom of darkness and the kingdom of light, and I said to myself and to my wife, I must put myself in fighting trim and go at it. I must first settle up all my busi- ness affairs. So this being fixed upon, I gave up to my clamor- ing creditors what I once hoped to hold, my little home, to be divided among them as far as it would go. Some of them did not press me, but others did. They had kept quiet while I was in Washington, expecting I should be successful with my claims; but when they learned of my failure there, their patience ended, and it seems to be a singular business fact, that when every- body thinks a man has money enough, they never feel in haste about their pay; but when they begin to mistrust that you are running a little short, every man wants his money to the last dime. I said to my wife, now we have struck bottom, we will put down a stake, and then take a fair start. I felt now about as poor as Job's turkey, but not quite. It has been said of him that he was so poor that he had to lean up against a tree to gobble. But I did not have to lean against a tree to do that, I could gobble well enough without it generally, and here I must diverge a little, even if I am charged with not exactly sticking to my text, for I just no w" remember when I was a little tongue- tied in New York when asking for a pass on one of the steamers running to Fall River. I ought to have mentioned ANECDOTE OF FISK. 69 this when speaking of my labors in getting signers to my peti- tion, or rather testimonials to go with my petition to Congress. My motto has always been to speak well of a bridge that carries a fellow over well, and I should not do a man justice, who is now no more, if I did not mention an interview I had with him, Colonel Fisk, of railroad notoriety. In the summer of 1871, while I was working up the testimo- nials to be attached to my petition to Congress for help, I went to Long Branch to see the President, and not finding him there, I went to West Point where I learned the President had gone, and met" him there. I showed him the names I had on my list of testimonials, and asked him for his signature. He told me it was a big thing, and that I had his sympathy ; but it would not be proper for him to sign it until it passed through Con- gress. My travels had cost me a good deal of money, and I found I had not money enough to reach home. When I got back as far as New York city I had not a dime left. I went to the telegraph office, and told the officer I wanted to send a telegram to Mr. Carter, of Saco, to get him to send me some money to get home with, and asked him how long it would be before I would get an answer. He said it would probably be at least four hours. It was then after eight o'clock in the eve- ning. I told him I did not know what I should do, I had no money to get any supper or a lodging for the night. He said, 'Who are you?' I told him what my name was, and that I had been getting some testimonials from officers in the army, to attach to a petition I intended to present to Congress, for some remuneration for my services in the army, and handed him the list to look over. After reading it he said, ' Sergeant, I will let you have five dollars to help you along, and you can pay me when you get it.' With this I got my supper and lodging. It was Saturday night when I got this money, and I paid out of it for two nights' lodging and my board over Sun- day. I made up my mind that I would go and see Mr. Fisk, the owner of the line of boats running to Fall River, and ask 270 INTERVIEW WITH FISK. him for a pass. I went to the opera house where he had his office, and saw the major of Fisk's regiment, and told him I wanted to get a pass on Mr. Fisk's boat. He asked me who I was. I told him who I was, and showed him my documents. He then told me he could not give me a pass, but said he wanted me to see the colonel. I told him I did not want to ask him. ' I don't want to go in, because I have been told that he is pretty rough with such fellows as I am, and I feel bad enough without being bluffed.' He said I was mistaken. The O O colonel was as good-hearted a fellow as ever lived, and I must see him and show him the papers I had with me, and he knew Fisk would give me a pass ; and, turning to the porter he said, 'when the colonel gets through reading his correspondence, take Sergeant Ambler in to see him tirst, before anybody else.' In a little while, I should think there were thirty people in waiting for an interview. I asked him why so many were waiting to see Mr. Fisk? Why, said the major, these are poor people seeking some aid in some way from him. The porter came out in a little while, and said the colonel was now ready to see me. ' Come right in.' I went in and found him at his desk, and gave him the military salute in the European style. He bowed an acknowledgment, and he said, ' Well, my man, what do you want ? ' I told him I was a little hard up, and wanted to get a pass on his boat. He said, 'Who are you ? ' I told him I was Sergeant Ambler, and that I had been down to Long Branch and West Point, to get signers to this petition (holding it in my hand) to present to Congress. He said, ' let me look at it.' I gave it to him and he read it, and then he said, 'Do you want me to sign this?' I said, 'No, sir, I do not..' He then said, ' What do you want ? ' I told him I just wanted a pass on his boat. ' Well,' said he, ' why did you not ask General Grant for a pass?' I said, 'Because I would not do it, sir.' And he said, ' Will you ask Jim Fisk for a pass, before you would ask General Grant?' I said, 'Yes, sir.' He then turned to his clerk and said to him, ' Here, give THE POOR HELPED. 271 this sergeant ten dollars, and a pass on my boat.' He then sai \ * Sergeant, when you go to Washington to get your pension, como and see me,' and shook me heartily by the hand, and said, ' you are an out-spoken fellow, and frank, and that is what I like,' and bid me good-day. I then waited a while in the outer room, to see how those others fared. Some dozen or more came out, and not one without something. One old lady with two chil- dren had received several dollars. Another old man had got five dollars, and several crippled soldiers had each received substantial aid, and came out with a smile on their faces, and a blessing on their lips for the colonel. As I turned away from the door, I thanked God for what I had seen. There was the old, the unfortunate, the lame, the halt, and the blind, all of them receiving aid and sympathy from this man. On the very morning I left Boston for Washington with my petition, in- tending on my way to call and see the colonel, his dead body was on the way to Vermont, to its narrow home. God had given me a tongue and a few brains, and with a heart full of love for souls to propel things, I made up my mind that that was so much stock in trade, and with these I would go to recruiting and drilling men for the kingdom. The same old ghost met me at this point that had often met me before, and would not down at my bidding. I must have more educa- tion, for how could an ignorant man expect the people to give him bread, if he was not capable of instructing them to some extent. I meant to preach and study, and so keep both irons in the fire at the same time. And I must have money some way to do it. I thought of the sale of my book that I begun before the war. The first editions had been all sold, and the money had gone to help ' Uncle Sam.' In the great fire in Portland the stereotype plates and every thing connected with my book were burned up, so I had noth- ing to start on. I then made up my mind that if I could get out a new edition, correcting the old and adding to it what I had passed through since writing the first, I could sell it to 272 PROVIDENCE HELPS. good advantage. I had formed a very extensive acquaintance during the war, and I felt confident that every man who could afford to invest a little in good old Saxon, would buy one. That was all right so far, but up starts the same old ghost, and with a sepulchral tone, inquired, 'Where is your money to do it?' By this time I had become so familiar with this phantom, that I s:iid I'll go and see. I went among my friends and asked their advice about attempting to put out another book, and most of them said, ' Go ahead, it's a good idea. Til buy one.' So I went to see the printer and talked with him about it, and he approved of it, and I talked around some time before I could get cheek enough to ask him if he would trust me for the work until I could sell books enough to pay him, and here my heart thumped against my ribs pretty hard for fear he would say no. God and the printer were better than my fears, and he an- swered, 'Yes, Ambler, I'll trust you, for you can sell it, and I know you will pay me as soon as you realize enough from the sale to do it.' He then put me on the track of a man who was at leisure, and was just the man I needed to help me compile and arrange it for the press. I then went to a publishing house, to see if they would take the responsibility to issue the book, in such numbers as would be necessary for a fair business oper- ation, and God had prepared the way somehow, so that they were ready to issue the work as soon as it could be prepared, and wait for their pay ; and so with the engraver. They were all ready, and all willing to trust to my honesty as to their pay. It made me think of the boy whose father called him up one morning very early, and told him to saddle the horse and take a grist to the mill. It was very foggy, and the boy told his father it was so foggy that he was sure he could not find the way. ' Why, father, I can't see down to the gate.' His father said to him, ' Oh, yes, you can my sou ; get on to the old horse and go as far as you can see, and if you get to a place where you can't see any further, you can stop.' The boy started ; but the fog lifted as he proceeded, seeing just about so far all the time, HEAD WIND AGAIN. 273 and ho found no place to stop until he reached the mill. So in my case. I had a grist to grind, and as I went the fog kept lift- ing, lifting, an 1 as I stepped along, the way kept clearing for me to go further. Is it not so in following the leadings of Provi- dence most always? Don't we walk by faith, and not by sight ? 1 When the Great Shepherd leads the way, Oh, who will fear to go; From darkness into realms of day, He leads the journey through.' While going along with my book thus, apparently under easy sail, all at once I was struck aback, by a summons to court by Dresser & Ayer, of Portland, Maine, whom I was owing the small sum of twelve dollars and thirty-three cents, and who had promised to wait until I got eased up in my money matters, so I could conveniently meet the bill. This threw me into Doubting Castle for a night or two, when a good friend advised me to take the poor debtor's oath, and so block all these hungry creatures that eat up the poor as they would eat bread, until such a time as I could pay them. I hated to do it; but on viewing the whole matter, un- der all the surrounding circumstances, I made up my mind it was my duty to do so, and that would bring me down on to what the oil men call 'hard pan,' and then I would begin to build without molestation, until I could get my head above water, and then I would pay up all debts, and in the mean time give my Christian friends an opportunity to cultivate one of the graces so necessary in their case, I mean the grace of patience; for out of it grows experience, and a man is much improved when patience has its perfect work ; and the Lord knew there was abundant room for improvement in their case. Here is the summons. I suppose it is nothing private, at least it was not so marked, and therefore I present it in these columns, and if it is any advantage to my friends to be thus advertised, I will give them the full benefit of it, as freely as 1 18 274 SUMMONS TO COURT. would give them a drink of cold water should they ask it. 1 am determined to be generous as well as just. STATE OF MAINE. YORK, ss. To Isaac W. Ambler, Greeting. We command you to appear before our Judge of our Muni- cipal Court of the city of Saco, in the County of York, to be holden at the Municipal Court room, in said Saco, in .said County, on the fourth Tuesday of November, A. D. 1872, at nine o'clock in the forenoon, then and there to answer unto Aurin L. Dresser and David M. Ayer, both of Portland, Coun- ty of Cumberland, and State of Maine, doing business under the firm name of Dresser & Ayer, in a plea of the case as set forth in the writ; which plea the said plaintiffs have com- menced to be heard and tried at the said Court, and your goods or estate are attached to the value of twenty dollars, for security to satisfy the judgment which the said plaintiffs may recover on the aforesaid trial. Fail not of appearance at your peril. Witness, Samuel F. Chase, Esq., our said Judge, at Saco aforesaid, the fourteenth day of November, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and seventy-two. SAMUEL F. CHASE. Having found out, in the course of my life, tbat even I might be mistaken, I concluded to call on my good friend Judge Em- ery, of Saco, and ask his advice, and get a little instruction how to proceed in the matter. I made a full statement to him of my situation, and showed him my summons to court. He ad- vised me in order to save myself from constant annoyance, and from being robbed, to take the poor debtor's oath, and go through the forms necessary, and generously offered to pay the bills. It is said, ' pride and poverty go together,' and I guess it is true enough, for it was very mortifying to my pride to do this, .as I always felt a good deal of pride in paying my bills when THE TRIAL. 275 they became clue, and I could only justify myself on the ground that in this way only could I ever pay my bills. That is, I could say to such as would not let me alone, ' Hands off, gen- tlemen, until I can get breath, and then if you can observe the common rules of decency, you shall all be paid to the last cent.' So on the fourth Tuesday of November, 1872, at nine o'clock in the morning, according to orders, I put in my appearance at court, as cited by the summons, Judge Emery appearing for me. E. S. Derby, Esq., of Saco, appeared for Dresser & Ayer. I was put upon the stand and sworn, Judge Chase pre- siding. Mr. Derby opened the case and put the following questions: Ques. Mr. Ambler, what property have you ? Ans. None. Ques. What have you done with your house? Ans. My house had two mortgages on it and the parties foreclosed and I could not pay them, and everything went to pay my creditors. Ques. Have you a watch ? Ans. I had ; but when I was in Washington I had to let it go to pay my bills. Ques. Have you no jewelry, rings, etc. ? Ans. No. Ques. Have you made way with, or covered anything? Ans. No. Ques. What have you got ? Ans. Nothing. (And here the lawyer, looking at the judge, said, 'Mr. Am- bler is a strong man and can earn it in a little while, it is only $14.10.') I answered if I was able to work I would earn it very quick and pay it. Ques. Mr. Ambler, you have a trade have you ? Ans. Yes, sir. 276 TRIAL CONTINUED. Ques. What is your trade ? Ans. I am a soldier. Ques. When did you enlist? Ans. Thirty years ago, under the Duke of Wellington ; but my business just now is rather dull, and if it was not, I could not do much. Ques. What is the matter; you look like an able-bodied man? Ans. I have lost the use of my hand. Ques. What is the matter with that ? My answer to this was to take off my glove and exhibit my shrunken, crippled wrist and hand. Here the lawyer, advanc- ing, looked at it, and turning to the judge said, ' Your honor, I did not know Mr. Ambler was a cripple.' Ques. Mr. Ambler, you have a pension ? Ans. No, sir. Ques. How did you lose the use of your hand ? Ans. Drilling officers of the Union army in the late war. Ques. And you have no pension ? Ans. No, sir. This closed the catechising on the complainant's side. Mr. Emery then asked me one question. Ques. Mr. Ambler, have you not a sword? Ans. Yes, sir. It is one I had drawn to defend our flag when marching through Baltimore. It was presented to me by the lamented Colonel Ellsworth. I don't know as I can really call it mine, I told my boy if he would commit to memory a piece called 'Bingen on the Rhine,' and repeat it all to me without making any mistakes, I would give him my sword. He learned it and repeated it to me without a mistake, and I gave him the sword. This ended the examination. The plea of Mr. Derby was very brief. My lawyer did not think it necessary to reply, and the court decided that I was entitled to the benefit of the poor debtor's oath, and I was discharged, and it went upon the record of the court. So here I found myself at the bottom of the lad- TALK WITII THE LAWYER. 277 dcr, and the tiling publicly acknowledged. Mr. Derby, who had been doing the lawyer, in his plea against me, kindly walked over with me to the little shop, where my wife is trying to get bread for us by dressmaking and a little millinery work, and stopped and chatted a while. He told me not to entertain any hard feelings against him, as he was simply doing his duty for his client. I told him I understood perfectly his position, and we could not expect anything better from a lawyer (joking of course), and they needed pardon, and I hoped they would all find it. I showed my good friend some of my papers, the testi- monials of Generals Hooker, Burnside,McClellan, Shepley,Dow, and others, in which lie was very much interested, and when he left he said, 'Ambler, you are a hero,' and of course he was right. Who would ever think of disputing with a lawyer, es- pecially when there was no chance for a dispute? Well, here I was down on to 'hard pan,' and I said to myself, Ambler, you are a poor shack now, anyhow, and I guess there will be none to dispute that point, and so I soliloquized a little; not just as the rich man did, who determined to pull down his old barns and build largely, so he could have room where to bestow all his goods ; but I said to myself, Ambler, eat, drink (if thou can'st get anything), and take thine ease, for there will be no demands for thee to pay at present. They are all settled pro tempore. When, to my astonishment, the eve- ning of the very same day that I went upon the record as a 'flat,' a townsman, knowing it too, came to my place and pre- sented a bill of a small balance which was due him on an ac- count, and said, 'Ambler, I am going to keeping house, and if you have got any plates or crockery of any kind, I will take it at its value toward what you owe me.' Reader, ' how is that for high ? ' Well, I said, wife, just give this poor man those half a dozen plates (we had only six in all left), and I will eat off the table like a pig out of his trough, I should have given them to him, for I thought a man thnt could take the last half dozen plates a poor fellow had to eat 278 A MEAN DUN. off of, should have them for his cheek, if for nothing else. Mrs. Ambler, good wife that she is, begged to differ with me (how presumptuous these women are since woman's lights have been so much discussed), and a protest from her was the end of that man's crockery hopes. I told him I would surely pay him some time. ' No,' he said, ' I know you can never do a day's work with your arm to earn a cent, and I shall have to lose it if you don't let me have those plates.' I have generally enter- tained strong objections to the developing doctrine, that we sprang from some lower life like the tadpole, and so up through the mo:ik^y to the man; but, I said, if that is so, it is pretty hard on the tadpoles and the monkeys that they should have to be linke.l to such a specimen of littleness. This man had a good business and money at interest. I will not name him. I only hope out of pity for him, that if he ever reads this book, he will put his hand over this page, so not to see it, for if he ever should read this part of his history, he will want to get his neighbors to set up nights with him, and help him to hate himself. Well, it seems that I am not out of the woods yet, and I don't know as I ought to expect to be while here in the flesh ; but of one thing I am sure, and that is this, if a poor fel- low that has met every mishap to which mortal man is subject can get out of the woods by persevering, honest effort, I am the man to try. I believe there is in providence something yet in store for me, and if there is anything in the saying, that God helps those that try and help themselves, I shall be helped. It looks to me yet, that God has a work for me to do, especially when I look back to my commencement in life, and trace his watchful hand over all the strange road of life thus far, through all the dangers I have met in various parts of the world, both by sea and land, in civil and in military life. I hope my book which I now present, will find a sale sufficiently ready and ex- tensive to enable me to procure such works as I need, to fit me better to proclaim the glorious gospel of salvation to the poor outcast. Oh, how glad I am, that Jesus came not to call the PRIVATIONS OF THE POOR. 79 righteous, but sinners to repentance. My highest ambition is to be unfettered by this cruel poverty, so to preach the un- searchable riches of the kingdom to men, and to do it without fear or favor. This is my faith, that I shall realize a support from this plain, truthful, unvarnished history of my life, so to be independent of a salary, as independent as Paul was. In looking over the field that is all ' white and ready fur the har- vest,' I am persuaded, that to be successful, much of the modern preaching is fruitless, and that ministers and churches have got to disabuse themselves of the idea, that prosperity consists in getting a splendid church, with a spire that kisses the skies, with rich carpets, expensive pews and altars, and grand organs, and a trained choir to praise God for them, and a congregation numerous and rich enough to run the machine and pay the bills, and then settle down at ease, and when a poor man thinks of joining them, give him to understand that the church is full. In some of our large churches, the poor are barred out as truly as if the sexton stood at the door and told them they were not wanted within, and it is done in this way. The pews in some churches are sold at prices ranging from one hundred to a thou- sand dollars, and sometimes several thousand dollars, and then to meet the big salaries of ministers, choirs, organists, sextons, and to pay for fuel, lights, repairs, and insurance, the pews are taxed from fifty up to five hundred dollars each. And so heart- broken and discouraged, the poor man, and sometimes the poor members, are driven away, because they can't support their families and pay such bills. In saying these plain things, and what may appear to some to be hard things, I do it to clear my conscience, and to strike a blow in behalf of the suffering poor whose bitter experience demands it. My own early sufferings are indelibly stamped on every fibre of my being, and my later trials have only con- firmed it; so that who suffers 'and I burn not.'' I would be alike untrue to my early experience and my latest knowledge and awfully untrue to God's grandest work, to the travail of 280 WAT TO DO GOOD. Christ's great soul, if I failed to do this. And while I make these painfully true statements and send them abroad to the world, I make an honest confession, which will be appreciated by a very large class of men, who acknowledge that we are coming at the truth and will hope for a practical application of it, which may prove the salvation of many souls. I would not forget how many noble men whom God has blessed with wealth, are doing as well as they know for the needy, and would do more, much more, if they could have some practical hints thrown out that would open to them deeper and wider fields for effort and Christian usefulness, and when they read this book, and see where the hand can be put to lighten the loads of the distressed, will thank Ambler for pointing out the way, in his homely manner, to do good. God sometimes takes worms to thresh mountains, and it is written that * God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise, and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty. And base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to nought the things which are ; that no flesh should glory in his presence.' The things which secure the blessings of God are so simple, that they are often overlooked. I often think of the terrible efforts a class made once, to spell the name of a river. They seemed to think that the teacher meant to tax their ingenuity to the utmost when he asked them to spell the word Po, and they tried every imaginable hard way to spell it, but failed ; and when it come to the lowest one in his class to try it, the poor simple boy spelled it P-o, Po, and went to the head. Sometimes almost every imaginable hard way is tried to love God, and men fail to do so until they begin to love men, and when they find them hungry and give them bread, then they for the first time begin to comprehend the secret of loving God. Now any course that in any way relieves and lightens the loads that human hearts have to bear, is so much done to, and for the Saviour of men. MONEYLESS MAN. 281 It is said by some, * Ambler, you are wrong, in our rich and costly churches we have pews on purpose for the poor, and we give them sittings, and surely we are helping them, and they are charitably treated ; they can hear the gospel for the coming, if they will only consent to listen to it.' All that is true enough, but here is where the shoe often pinches the poor the hardest. They say it is bad enough to be poor without sitting them apart in a portion of the church assigned for such, so that everybody that comes in shall know that they belong to the poor class. The poor like to be thrown in among the rich sometimes, in such a way that their poverty may not always be known ; and it is sometimes very pleasant for them to pass off among the crowd without being noticed as the poor, and I have no doubt it is sometimes quite flattering to them to be even mistaken for persons in easy circumstances. ' Is there no place on the face of this earth, Where charity dwelleth, where virtue hath birth? Where the bosom in mercy and kindness will heave, And the poor and the wretched may ask and receive ? Where quickly a knock from the needy and poor Will bring some kind angel to open the door? Ah, search where you will, wherever you can, There's no open door for a moneyless man. ' Go look in yon hall where the chandelier's light Drives off with its splendor the darkness of night ; Where the rich hanging velvets in shadowy folds Sweep gracefully down with their trimmings of gold. Aye, look in that hall, and find if you can, A welcoming smile for a moneyless man. ' Go look in yon church with its cloud-reaching spire, That throws back to the sun its reflection of fire; Where the arches and columns are gorgeous within, And the walls seem as pure as a soul without sin. Then walk down the aisles, see the rich and the great, In the pomp and the pride of their wordly estate ; Then go to their dwellings, and find if you can A welcoming look for a moneyless man. 282 MONEYLESS MAN. ' Go look at yon judge with his dark flowing gown, And the scales of the law weighing equally down, Who frowns on the weak and smilos on the strong, And punishes right, whilst he justifies wrong; Where the jurors their lips on the Bible have laid, To render a verdict they've already made. Go there in that court-room, and find if you can, Any law for the cause of a moneyless man. ' Go look in yon bank where mammon has told His hundreds and thousands of silver and gold, Where safe from the hands of the starving and poor, Lie heaps upon heaps of the glittering ore. Walk up to the counter; ah, there you may stay, Till your limbs shall grow old and your hairs shall turn gray; For you'll find at the bank not one of the clan, With a dollar to lend to a moneyless man. 'Then go to your hovel where no raven has fed The wife who has suffered so long for her bread, Kneel down by her pallet and kiss the death frost From the cold icy forehead of her you have lost. Then turn to the motherless babes that are left, Of money and friends they are wholly bereft; Not one in a hundred will lend you a hand, But turn, oh how coldly, from a moneyless man.' A revolution has got to come off in our churches, as radical as ever took place in the country, to purify them and put them upon the ground where they can gather in the poor as well as the rich, and do the work set for them by the Master. We have no objection to good buildings, rich and comfortable, if the re- ligion of the church and Christianity is not sacrificed thereby, and worship in these churches made so expensive as to drive the poor entirely from them. How men can sit and enjoy themselves, and feel no pricking in their consciences amidst such gorgeous surroundings, when the very splendor about them bars out God's poor, and leaves them a prey to any outside influence that cor- ruption can bring to bear upon them, I can't see. Some- thing must be * rotten in Denmark.' Consciences ! are there any OTHERS THINK AS I DO, 283 among such? It has become really a question with many thoughtful men, and lest my reader shall think it only a little spleen of mine to say such things, I will quote from the Chris- tian Union, Vol. VI, No. 23, a brief article headed ' Con- science of Religious Societies? and reads thus : ' I make no com- plaint of religious societies, for I have experience enough among them to know that they are open to the same objections of cor- porations in general. They are not responsible. They have no souls. They will do, in their corporate capacity, what every in- dividual of them would be ashamed to do as a private citizen. Do I not know what small minorities, what little unscrupulous factions, often control them. How many excellent, devoted, long- tried ministers have been sacrificed by nine-tenths of their mem- bers, to conciliate and retain less than one-tenth, and those often of the most bigoted and over-bearing character? How often have I seen the best people in those societies, the most liberal and progressive, giving up everything to the worst and most illiberal for the sake of peace and harmony, which they never get? How often have I seen the old national compromises of slavery acted over again here with similar results ! There is and can be no peace with despotism of any kind ; but that of death, on one side or the other? How true ! Thei'e are indi- vidual consciences working in some of the members ; but these are stifled to some extent, lest they shall be called factious, and so, rather than to raise the alarm and take the consequences of a little commotion, they allow themselves to drift along, when to a thoughtful and observing mind the roar of the breakers is already heard, and the seething waters will soon close over them unless they wake to hear the cry of Jesus, in the wants and neglect of the poor. Is it not a fact, that Christ is barred from many a church ? It is a painful fact, or God's word is a farce. Oh, with what astonishment neglecters of God's poor will wake up ! ' When the Son of Man shall come in his glory and all the holy angels with him,' and shall say to them, 'I was a stranger, and ye took me not in ; naked, and ye clothed me 284 MY EXPERIENCE. not ; sick, and in prison, and ye visited me not.' Oh, what will it avail them, when they shall answer him, ' saying, Lord, when saw we thee a hungered, or athirst, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and did not minister unto thee? Then shall he answer them, saying, Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye did it not to one of the least of these, ye did it not to me. And these shall go away into everlasting punishment j but the righteous into life eternal.' If I know anything of the love of God, it is to love and pity the poor, and to comfort and raise them up. How much com- fort and how much encouragement it was to me, when I was a poor drunkard and under conviction for sin, to have Rev. Mr. Pike take me by the hand and say, * God bless you.' I was like the poor man journeying from Jerusalem to Jericho. I had fallen among thieves. I had been stripped, and wounded, and left half dead. I had seen the priest go by on the other side, and also the Levite, both turning up their noses at poor drunken Ambler; both with flowing robes and lofty mien, dignity enough to scare a man, while over such mockery the enemies of God rejoiced, and loud the unbeliever laughed, boasting a life of fairer character than theirs ; but when the good Samaritan took me by the hand, and into my poor bruised and wounded soul poured sympathy, in such golden words, and recognized me as a fellow man, it gave me hope and comfort, and waked in my heart holy purposes of reform, with fullest faith through God I should do valiantly, and come off a con- queror and a man, yea, a Christian. I had seen enough of this hollow-hearted mockery, these whited sepulchres, to make me feel as though a general protest should be entered against it all ; and I thought if the devil did not get them, I mean all those that are like graves which ap- pear not, for the life of me I could not see any use in having any devil. I said, am I alone in this feeling, in this seeing ? Am I a misanthrope ? When picking up Pollok's Course of Time, I read of Priests and Levites in language that seemed MY EXPERIENCE. 285 on fire. His indignation burned in looking at those who 'swore away all love of filthy lucre, all desire of earthly pomp, and yet a princely seat they liked, and to the clink of Mammon's box gave most rapacious ear,' until in language of awful mean- ing he cried of such, ' Most guilty, villainous, dishonest man ! Wolf in the clothing of the gentle lamb ! Dark traitor in Mes- siah's holy camp ! Leper in saintly garb ! Assassin masked in virtue's robe ! Vile hypocrite accursed ! I strive in vain to set his evil forth. The words that should sufficiently accurse and execrate such reprobate, had need come glowing from the lips of eldest hell. Among the saddest in the den of woe. Thou sawest him the saddest, 'mong the damned most damned? I had seen so much of this awful separateness, this ' stand thou yonder, for I am holier than thou,' and I had felt so much of this spirit of ' touch me not lest I be defiled,' that after my conversion, my heart went out so after the lost sheep, that in pity and in tears I sought them, and many a home have I made happy. I was impressed deeply with the fact, that to fill God's house, Christian men and women must go out into the high- ways and hedges and compel them to come in, with loving hearts, and with the gentleness and charity of Jesus, win them away from death to life, talking with them of our own escape, remembering our own follies and pitying them in theirs, and making always only this difference. That we are all short- comers, and that while one is pardoned and happy in hope, the other may be, if he will only repent and believe. Oh, in this way how many, how many might be brought in to the fold who are now lost sheep ! Never was I more forcibly struck with what seemed to me to be the real work of Christian men, than in observing the result of the earnest efforts of some Christians in Portland, who go down on the wharves to talk to men, and into an old sail-loft on Sabbath mornings to talk and pray with whoever will come in, and then go over to the jail to weep with the poor unfortunates there, and pray with them and tell them of the Saviour's love, and take them by the hand with a 286 CHRISTIAN WORKERS. warm grasp that means good-will, and give them good advice and assure them if they will only try to do right, they shall have their sympathy, and they will gladly recognize them too on the street, and when they come to the meeting, as brothers for whom a Saviour bled. And many of these unfortunates have got converted and are now living epistles of God's power. It would seem that in this age of light, such a work would be fcucouragcd, especially by every minister. Yet when one min- ister in Portland, who shall be nameless, was approached con- cerning this very work of visiting the poor prisoners in the jail, answered with a sneer, that he did not take any stock in that concern. "Well, thank God, there are men who are just glad to invest all their powers to do good in that direction, and feel that it pays, and will pay, especially when it shall be said at last, 'inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of one of these, ye have done it unto me.' I cannot name the good men who take all the stock they can handle, as God's stewards, in the jails, on the wharves, out in the highways and hedges, be- side the sick-bed, in the hovel, among the drunken, and who Tell him hope doth yet remain, If he only will abstain. I will not name the men whose goodness is sometimes ques- tioned by those whose very rottenness of heart is the standard by which they judge other and better men, when they see a team hitched by some poor dwelling where people live who nre not all angels ; but the record of these Christian workers is kept by him who watches with eager eyes the pilgrim who fears not to go where lives a soul for whom the Saviour died, to carry with him, into those abodes of poverty and death the light of God's wondrous love. These men have a bulwark, a tower of strength to keep them from seduction and death, and fear not the re- proach of men ; but with an inward purpose they go forth to meet the demands of the outcast and despised for whom Christ died. * How much is this like the work of Christ I But the race GOOD STOCK. 287 of the Pharisees is not all dead. There arc lots of these old double and twisted hypocrites, that act just as their old fathers did. How very like! Just go back nearly nineteen hundred years ago, and see Jesup sitting '.it veat :n tne house, behold many publicans and sinners came and sat down with him and his disciples. And when the Pharisees saw it, they giu tmto his disciples, Why eateth your Master with publicans and sin- ners,' which means substantially, we don't take any stock in that company. * But when Jesus heard /.** rrit make a rush for the fold he will be damned; but use good judgment in your approaches. There is no work that requires good common sense more than the work of finding the lost sheep an-1 getting them back to the fold. It is said, 4 he that winneth souls is wise,' which means that it requires wisdom and prudence. I can't illustrate what I want to make plain better than to tell you a story about the good Shepherd. He traveled a great deal, and often got weary in the work. When traveling on foot from Judea clown into Galilee, he got as far as Samaria, and, being wearied with his journey, he sat down on the curb at the well to rest, having traveled several hours in the heat and dust. It was now about noon, and while resting on the well, a woman of Samaria came to the well to draw water. Je- sus did not begin to tell her what a sinner she had been, although she was a hard case ; but he introduced himself by asking her for a drink of water. I don't suppose a Jew ever thoughtthislostsheepcould.be saved, and probably this was 300 SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. the first time that ever one condescended to speak with her, for she was astonished, and said, * How is it that thou, being a Jew, askest drink of me, which am a woman of Samaria? for the Jews have no dealings with the Samaritans.' This woman, by this wise introduction, became at once, as you see, an inquirer and the good Shepherd said, 'If thou knewest the gift of God, and who it is that saith to thee, Give me to diink, thou would'st have asked of him, and he would have given thee living water.' This opened the way for further conversation ; so the woman said, * Sir, Give me this water, that I thirst not, neither come hither to draw.' She wanted the water of life and asked for it, thank God; but it did not end there. She was bidden to go call her husband. This was a pretty hard thrust; but she could bear it now, as she had got interested in her teacher ; but she said, 'I have no husband,' and this was true; but Jesus told her just what she had been, until she cried out, * Sir, I perceive that thou art a prophet ; ' and when Jesus explained the whole matter, ' the woman left her water-pot and went her way into the city, and saith to the men : Come, see a man that hath told me all things that ever I did; is not this the Christ? Then they went out of the city and came unto him.' His disciples when they got back marvelled that he talked with the woman, but it was just like him. Here, then, is the pattern for you and I. Don't be afraid to talk with the most abandoned, and don't feel as though you are not accomplishing anything because the first talk may not be directly on the subject of religion. That poor lost sheep may go away and say, that ejood man did not feel himself too good to speak to me, and will put himself or herself in the way again, on purpose to be talked with, and to ask questions. That poor lost sheep has been saying, perhaps, in great sadness, ' no man careth for my soul ; ' but now inwardly they say here is an ex- ception. This man does care for me. And they will tell such their sorrows, and confess to them their need of religion, and then go and tell their friends to come and see a man that ia SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 301 looking after the lost sheep, and he will help them to find the fold. Whole sermons would fail to tell of all the ways to find the lost sheep ; but I must leave this to give some attention to my Third section viz., The prejudices to be met, and what one has to endure in going after the lost sheep. Let no one think the road he has got to travel, in hunting up the lost sheep, is strewn with flowers. My first division of this section is this : The inward prejudice to be overcome. It is natural for good men to aspire to higher circles, and it is very pleasant to go with and commune with such as we think better than ourselves, and often there is felt an inward horror of mingling with the multitude that are reeking in filth and moral death ; but when the soul is enlarged it will say, * I will run in the way of the commandments,' until with proper views of Christ's mission, its strongest consolation is drawn from its earnest working in the hovels of the poor, and preaching Jesus to the outcasts, the prisoners, and the neglected. When Christ talked with that woman at the well, and the disciples came and prayed him to eat, ' He said, I have meat to eat that ye know not of. Therefore the disciples said one to another, Hath any man brought him aught to eat ? Jesus saith unto them, My meat is to do the will of him that sent me,' and he then said to the disciples, just 'lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are white already to harvest.' Oh, the sweetness of that kind of sanctification, that finds its meat in this blessed work.' Division second of third section. To make a bolt from the ordinary course lays a man liable to be misunderstood, and of- ten to bitter persecution. Jesus was called, in derision, a friend of publicans and sinners, because he did not heartily denounce them, and send down fire from heaven upon them ; but hear him defend himself. To the scribes and Pharisees, lawyers and chief priests, he says, ' Go ye and learn what that meaneth, I will have mercy and not sacrifice ; for I am not come to call the 802 SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. righteous, but sinners to repentance.' They that bo whole need not a physician, but they that are sick.' And for nothing else but tins was he finally put to death. See the good old apos- tle Paul in bonds before Agrippa, telling his experience. He was as much a Pharisee as the fattest of them; but the light from heaven had shown him this wondrous, this glorious truth, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom he was chief, and now sec what he had to meet and endure, in going after the lost sheep. lie shall tell his own story, for you would hardly believe it from the lips of any other mortal. It is said in Acts 16th, 'They caught Paul and Silas and drew them into the market-place, unto the rulers, and the magistrates rent off their clothes, and commanded to beat them. And when they had laid many stripes upon them, they cast them into pris- on.' A great many whippings the old man got, and he says if the Jews are ministers, 'I am more. In labors more abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft. Of the Jews five times received I forty stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods, onco was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and a day I have been in the deep; in jour- neyings often, hi perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in per- ils among false brethren, in weariness and painfulness, in watch- ings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness.' No wonder, oh, no wonder the good old man could say, 'Who is weak, and I am not weak? who is offended, and I burn not?' That glorious old soldier knew how to pity Tiis comrades in affliction, because of his own bitter experience. Are the disciples sometimes dodging their pursuers, and taxing their wits, and their friends, to get away from wicked men ? So am I, says Paul, ' I had to go through a window in a basket, and be let down by the wall to escape out of their hands.' Third division of section three. Christian men are not now beaten with stripes, put in prisons, stoned and dragged out of SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 30(5 cities, and left half dead. Thank God that time has gone by; but they are subject to keener weapons, against which it seems there is no law of men. The slanderer still lives, and swings his lip against the disciple with terrible malignity, and it cuts the sensitive soul deeper than whips. No wonder Pollok, in his Course of Time, is moved with indignation, and thus draws his picture in these words : ' Slander, the foulest whelp of sin, the man In whom this spirit entered, was undone. His pillow was the peace of families destroyed, His tongue was set on fire of hell, his heart Was black as death, his legs were faint with haste To propagate the lie his soul had framed. From door to door you might have seen him speed, Or placed amid a group of gaping fools, And whispering in their ears with his foul lips, Devising mischief more, and early rose, And made most hellish meals of good men's names, Peace fled the neighborhood in which he made His haunts, the prudent shunned him and his house As one who had a deadly moral plague.' I have known a good man to go among the base and low and despised to talk to the lost sheep of the good shepherd, and how he will take the lame and the sick and carry them in his arms, and the next day by some of the devil's watch-dogs it was reported that brother was seen to go into a house x>f ill-fame and spend a half an hour. This is a trying position for a sensitive, good man, who thinks none the less of a good reputation because he has aspired to be a Christian ; and often more than he ever did before, be- cause he had rather die than wound the cause of his Master. Shall he cease to go on his merciful efforts, because Slander opens wide his mouth, and breathes over his good name the mildews of death and hell ? Nay, my good brother. Go wherever lives a soul to be saved, 804 SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. the chicfest of sinners, Christ died for them ; but go clothed with the panoply of God. With him for your front guard, and your rear wall, nothing shall harm you. You may tread on deadly things if God be with you. Christ talked with the woman at the well, pardoned another convicted of crime, risking everything, even the cause so dear to him, stemming the flood that was poured out against him for his pity for the fallen. The scribes and Pharisees were great sticklers for outward purity, and wanted to eternally settle a case against him, so to bring him into disrepute, and blacken this merciful religion, and they put their heads together and fixed up a case, and then took their time when he was in the temple preaching, and brought in a woman whom they said was taken in adultery, 'and when they had set her in the midst, they said unto him, Master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act. Now Moses in the law commanded us that such should be stoned; but what sayest thou? This they said tempting him, that they might have to accuse him.'' Jesus made as though his thoughts were upon something else. ' So they continued asking him, he lifted up himself and said unto them, He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her. And again he stooped down and wrote on the ground. And they which heard it, being convicted by their own consciences, went out one by .one, beginning at the eldest even unto the last.' A pretty sight that, not one of these old hypocrites could stand the test! All of them had been in the snme boat, with only this difference, the woman had been caught, and they had not. How Jesus punctured these old vacillating theological gas-bags! After they had gone, 'when Jesus lifted up himself, and saw none but the woman, he said unto her, Woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee ? She said, No man, Lord. And Jesus said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee; go, and sin no mores In the heart of Jesus there was forgiveness for this lost sheep. She was no doubt penitent, and desired forgiveness, and the SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 3Q5 blessed Master dismissed her with this injunction 'sin no more,' and she went away in peace, no doubt, with a strong purpose to lead a good life. There is often more hope of a genuine re- form, a true practical Christianity among such, than of these old unsympathizing, self-conceited bigots, and Jesus said unto them, Matt. 21 : 31, 'Verily I say unto you, That the publicans and the harlots go into the kingdom of God before you.' Then go, Christian comrades, go after the lost sheep. The world can't say worse things of you than they did of the Cap- tain of our salvation. As he went, they said, 'Behold a glut- tonous man, and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners.' They cannot say worse things of you. Say, comrade, did you ever notice how grateful these poor lost sheep are to their ben- efactors? How they thank God for the kind word and look that won them back to the fold! Let me call your attention to the gratitude of one whom Christ had helped and saved. When Captain Jesus went and sat down to meat in the house of a Pharisee, 'Behold, a woman in the city, which was a sinner, when she knew that Jesus sat at meat in the Pharisee's house, brought an alabaster box of ointment, and stood at his feet behind him weeping, and began to wash his feet with tears, and did wipe them with the hairs of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.' Dear thankful soul! but when the Pharisee saw it, he said, ' This man, if he were a prophet, would have known who and what manner of woman this is that toucheth him; for she is a sinner. Jesus, answering, said unto him, Simon, I have somewhat to say unto thee. And he saith, Master, say on. There was a certain creditor which had two debtors, one owed five hundred pence, the other fifty, and when they had nothing to pay, he frankly forgave them both. Tell me, therefore, which of them will love him most ? Simon answered, I suppose that he to whom he forgave most. Jesus said, thou hast rightly judged. And he turned to the woman, and said unto Simon, seest thou this woman ? I entered into thine house, thou gavest 20 306 SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. me no water for my feet; but she hath washed my feet with tears (precious drops) and wiped them with the hairs of her head. Thou gavest me no kiss ; but this woman, since the time I came in, hath not ceased to kiss my feet. My head with oil thou didst not anoint ; but this woman hath anointed my feet with ointment. Wherefore, I say unto thee, Her sins, which are many, are for- given, for she loveth much.' So down go these old prejudices. See how these poor souls, you have thought there was no mercy for, love when the gospel reaches them. Some of the disciples were indignant, and when they could find fault with nothing else they said, 'To what purpose is this waste? For this ointment might have been sold for much and given to the poor. When Jesus understood it, he said, Why trouble ye the woman? Verily I say unto you, Wheresoever this gospel shall be preached in the whole world, there shall also this, that this woman hath done, be told as a memorial of her? Oh, this is the way to get at the lost sheep I Instead of being ashamed of these trophies of grace, tell it to the world ; yes, tell the vilest, though their sins be as scarlet, or red like crimson, they shall be as snow and as wool. Yes, tell them all ' There is a fountain filled with blood Drawn from Immanuel's veins, And sinners plunged beneath that flood Lose all their guilty stains. ' The dying thief rejoiced to see That fountain in his day; And Mary Magdalene and me Do wash our sins away.' Excuse the paraphrase on the last two lines, it is about as I feel. I now hasten to consider briefly the fourth section, viz, The joy when the lost sheep is found. My first division here shall be the joy of the lost sheep. See how the stray sheep SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 307 manifests it joy when coming back to the flock. It almost for- gets to feed; but goes from one sheep to the other with its quick, short bleat of gladness and affection, rubbing its nose against one, and then another, almost like the kisses between the mother and child, when one has been restored to the bosom of the other. Who can tell the first glowings of joy, when the heart first goes out in sweetly breathing, ' Our Father who art in heaven.' Oh, it is a joy unspeakable and full of glory. The convert calls upon his soul, and all within him, to praise the name of the Lord, and he would wake everything into songs of praise. They felt just so thousands of years ago. Hear one of the ancients: ' Praise ye the Lord from the heavens; praise him in the heights ; praise ye him, all his angels; praise him sun and moon; praise him, all ye stars of light; praise him, ye heaven of heavens, and ye waters that be above the heavens. Praise the Lord from the earth, ye dragons and all deeps : fire and hail, snow and vapors, stormy wind fulfilling his word : mountains and all hills ; fruitful trees, and all cedars : beasts and all cattle ; creeping things and flying fowl : kings of the earth and all people; princes and all judges of the earth: both young men and maidens ; old men and children : let them praise the name of the Lord ; for his name alone is excellent ; his glory is above the earth and heaven.' Oh, if the heart's praise could be embodied in a single sound, no peace jubilee with thousands of voices, its string and wind instruments, its anvil choruses, its thundering cannon, could wake creation with such mighty thundering anthems of glory as would peal on the ears of the slumbering world. A second division is the joy among good men. The emo- tions felt in Christian hearts are often unspeakable over the lost that are found. It was meet, said the father, that the best robe be put upon him, that the fatted calf be killed, 'for this my son that was lost is found.' I was once in a meeting where a young man got converted, whose father had felt much anxiety for him; and when he heard his son tell what God had done for him, the 808 SERMON ON THE LOST SEEEP. old white-headed man was wild with joy, and left the house without hat or overcoat, in a wintry night, and with his bald head exposed and the few silver locks streaming in the wind and snow, run for his home to. tell the glad news to his aged wife. He missed neither hat nor coat until, running after him only as a strong young man, full of vigor, can run, I overtook him with both. One more division of joy under my fourth section, and this shall conclude the main drill in the action to recover the lost sheep, viz. : Heaven is filled with joy when the vilest and the meanest of all the lost sheep is found. How many Bible figures illustrate this fact. Time will only permit one strong statement to sup- port this division. As there is joy over the lost sheep that is found, Jesus says, ' I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth, more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no repentance.' 'I say unto you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God, over one sinner that repenteth.' In contemplating what the Captain of our salvation should work out, how he should save the lost sheep, the heavens rung with songs of joy. When the shep- herds watched their flocks by night, two thousand years ago on the plains of Bethlehem, ' The angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them. And the angel said unto them, Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be unto all people. For unto you is born this day, in the city of D.ivid, a Saviour which is Christ the Lord. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and say- ing, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, and good- wJll toward man.' Oh yes, over the new creation the morning stars sang together, and all the sons of God shouted for joy; and you and I may touch wires that shall send thrills of joy throughout all the heavenly world. To the work, then, and let the people SERMON ON THE LOST SHEEP. 309 know, that he that converteth one sinner from the error of his way, shall save a soul from death, and hide a multitude of sins. It will hardly be necessary for me to bring up many reserves to the support of my sections and divisions in my soldier ser- mon, but it is customary, I believe, for theologians to put in an inference or two in view of the whole subject, and I will bring up a reserve thought or two, in support of what has been said. 1st. * How much better is a man than a sheep ! ' and yet a shepherd is justified in leaving the ninety and nine and going after the one that has wandered, and when he has found it, feels justified not only to be joyful himself, but in calling on his neighbors to join him. Oh the value of a human soul! Oh how grand and glorious the privilege of binding up one broken heart, of finding one bruised and wounded sheep, and present- ing it saved to the great Shepherd. Oh how careful that we should not by our coldness, by uncharitableness, drive one of these lambs astray. How many are wandering to-day, who would have been the happiest lambs in the fold had they been dealt kindly with, and encouraged as they should have been. How many old Hebrews must ever accuse themselves for the sufferings of many who have been discouraged and gone away from the fold. To save yourselves from remorse, go after them Take one example : In all the bloom of perfect womanhood, ruined by a villain ; and when her father saw her shame, his heart grew stone. He drove her forth to want and wintiy winds, and with a horrid curse forbidding her return. ' Upon a hoary cliff that watched the sea Her babe was found dead ; and on its little cheek The tear that nature bade it weep had turned An ice-drop, sparkling in the morning sun, And to the turf its little helpless hands were frozen, For she, the woful mother had gone mad, And laid it down, regardless of its fate. She never spoke of her deceiver, father, mother, home, With woe too wide to see beyond, she died. 310 SERMON ON TEE LOST SIIEEP. Not unatoned for by imputed blood, nor by the Spirit, that mysterious works. Aloud her father Cursed that day, his guilty pride, which would not own A daughter, whom the God of heaven and earth Was not ashamed to call his own.' A second reserve. In this way only can you show that you are real Christians and save your own souls. 'By their fruit ye shall know them. By this shall all men know that ye are ray disciples if ye have love one for another.' 'Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? Yea, Lord, thou knowest all things, thou knowest that I love thee. Feed my sheep.'' I don't know how a man can expect to be saved, who does not enter this work. Finally, I don't believe a man has ever known the love of God, whose heart does not go out after the lost, and feel somewhat as the Saviour did, when speaking of his work he said, ' How am I straightened until it be accomplished. Beware, oh be- ware scribes, Pharisees, hypocrites, hirelings, whose own the sheep are not, and who seeth the wolf coming, and leaveth the sheep and fleeth, and the wolf catcheth them, and scattereth the sheep, for the day of your reckoning is at hand.' 'If the watchman see the sword come and blow not the trumpet and the people be not warned, if the sword come and take away any person from among the people, his blood will I require at the watchman's hand.' Comrades, go after the lost sheep. Comrades, don't offend the little ones, no matter how weak, the more need of help ; no matter how vile they have been, the more you should encourage and lead them by the hand. Woe unto that man who puts a straw in the way of the dear lamb, for it is written, ' Whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depths of the sea.' AMEN. To this work my soul turns, and that I may be permitted to enter this field untrammeled is my prayer, that the remnant of CONCLUSION. 311 my days may be employed in bringing from the highways and hedges those that are lost, that God's house may be filled. Every one that buys a book of mine helps to strike off my fetters, and though crippled in body, if I can succeed in freeing myself from these bonds of poverty, so to make proclamation of God's love to man without being muzzled, and without charge when the people are poor, the height of my ambition will be reached. Dear reader, we have gone over the crooked and strange journey of life together, and with many thanks to you for your patience in reading these pages, trusting you will be charitable toward all my errors, there remains for me only to ask you to prepare to meet the Judge of all, if you have not already done so, and to say to you, what has been paining me to think of saying, lest some word I have forgotten to say ought to be said to save some soul from death, that word so often baptized in tears and often repeated from trembling, loving lips, good-by. ISAAC W. AMBLER. "TRUTH STRANGER THAN FICTION." MEMOIRS OF SERGEANT I. W. AMBLER. THE PRESS AND PEOPLE'S BOOK. A wonderful narrative of personal history. Not within the entire range of English or American literature, can there be found, without pay, pension or reward, such a brilliant example of heroic devotion. His services in behalf of the Union, Generals and Governors of States have been pleased to term hercu- lean, heroic, patriotic and loyal. His trials, sufferings, wounds, sacrifices and privations, entitle him to sub- stantial recognition. All of which is proved "by the unqualified testimony of American heroes and statesmen, who say : "It is the man who deserves, and not only the man who achieves success, that is honored by us." WM. F. SMITH, late Maj. Gen. U. S. Vols. GEORGE B. MCCLELLAN, late Maj. Gen. U. S. A. A. E. BURNSIDE, late Maj. Gen. U. S. A. J. HOOKER, late Maj. Gen. U. S. A. 14 MEMOIRS OF SERGEANT I. W. AMBLER. C. C. MEADE, late Maj. Gen. U. S. A. JOSHUA L. CHAMBERLAIN, late Maj. Gen. U. S. Vols. CHAS. DEVENS, JR., late Brev. Maj. Gen. U. S. Vols. WM. COGSWELL, late Brig. Gen. U. S. A. G. F. SHEPLEY, late U. S. Judge, late Brig. Gen. U.S.A. FRANCIS FESSENDEN, late Brig. Gen. U. S. Vols. JAMES FESSENDEN, late Brig. Gen. U. S. Vols. NEAL Dow, late Brig. Gen. U. S. Vols. WM. DWIGHT, late Col. 70th Regt. N. Y. Vols. and Brig. Gen. U. S. Vols. T. W. PORTER, late Col. 14th Maine Regt.U. S. Vols. ISAAC FRAZIER, late Capt. 6th Me. Regt. U. S. Vols. J. E. SMITH, late Capt. 38th Regt. Mass. Vols. JOHN W. TRAFTON, late Capt. 27th Regt. Mass. Vols. MILTON FRAZIER, late Lieut. 6th Me. Vols. WM. CLAFLIN, Ex-Gov. of Mass. ICHABOD GOODWIN, Ex-Gov. of N. H. ONSLOW STEARNS, Ex-Gov. of N. H. ISRAEL WASHBURN, JR., Ex-Gov. of Maine. SETH PADELFORD, Ex-Gov. of R. I. JOHN D. LONG, Gov. of Mass. THOMAS TALBOT, Ex-Gov. of Mass. ALEX. H. RICE, Ex-Gov. of Mass. GEO. S. BOUTWELL, Ex-Gov. of Mass. ALEX. H. BULLOCK, Ex-Gov. of Mass. WM. GASTON, Ex-Gov. of Mass. J. L. CHAMBERLAIN, Ex-Gov. of Maine. FREDERICK O. PRINCE, Ex-Mayor of Boston. HENRY L. PIERCE, Ex-Mayor of Boston. CHAS. A. SHAW, Ex-Mayor of Biddeford, Me. HON. D. E. SOMES, late M. Congress. HON. J. G. BLAINE, Ex-Sec. U. S. HON. J. G. ABBOTT, Judge, Boston, Mass. HON. C. LEVI WOODBURY, Judge, Boston, Mass. MEMOIRS OF SERGEANT I. W. AMBLER. 15 HON. EDW. AVERY, Chairman Central Committee. FKED'K A. FOSTER, Merchant, of Boston, Mass. ROB'T G. FITCH, Editor Boston Post. D. A. GODDARD, late Editor Boston Advertiser. E. B. HASKELL, Editor Boston Herald. B. P. PALMER, Editor Boston Globe. HEXRY M. DKXTER, Editor Congregationalist. LEVERETT SALTONSTALL. Z. THOMPSON, Chaplain 6th Me. Regt. 1861 and 1862. ELBRIDGE G. STEVENS, M. D. J. E. L. KIMBALL, M. D., late Surgeon 27th Regt. M. Yols. "Wai. J. DALE, Surgeon Gen. Commonwealth of Mass. A DEBT OF HONOR. EVERYBODY has heard of Sergeant Ambler. Many of our readers know him personally. He was in his youth an English soldier under Wellington. Coming to this country many years ago, he has passed through a varied experience, which he has written in a book and related from many platforms. When Sumter was fired upon he entered into the Union service heart and soul. Not over- prudent in regard to his own interests, as his story shows, he was full of energy, courage and enthusiasm, honest, loyal and faithful always. His first service was to form the members of the Young Men's Christian Association, of Boston, into a drill club, and give them their first lesson in war. He had been a drill-master in the English army, and when our need came he volunteered his service where it would do the most good. From that moment he was in great demand, drill- ing officers and squads of men in the use of the musket, bayonet and broadsword, wherever he could get a room *j O for practice. His overflowing enthusiasm and rough elo- quence were also of great use in recruiting the early regi- ments, to some of whose officers and men he gave their first real instruction, often doing double and treble duty by first coaching the sergeants, who repeated the lesson to their companies. Many of our citizens are familiar with all this. The papers of the time also bear ample testimony to it. There is no doubt of the facts. A DEBT OF HONOR. 17 In July, 1861, he went to the front with the 6th Maine regiment, which he had been drilling for a few weeks at Camp Preble, the officers assuring him that he would receive the same pay and fare from the government which they received. Unfortunately for him, he was not regu- larly mustered into the service, but he was the same zealous, self-forgetful soldier as if he had been. When the regiment marched through Baltimore, with ba} r onets fixed and muskets loaded, expecting attack, Sergeant Ambler took charge of the colors, and bore them safely through. He remained with the regiment during that dreadful summer, performing all soldierly duties, instruct- ing officers in the sword, and men in the bayonet exercise, going out on picket duty, and wherever a strong hand and courageous heart were wanted. He came home in September, prostrated by sunstroke, the War Department passing him as a soldier on government account. During that and the following year he gave his time and energy to recruiting and drilling for several Maine regiments, and teaching officers and soldiers from other States in New England. From the summer of 1863 to the close of the war he spent much time at Long Island and Gallop's Island drilling officers and men of regiments stationed there before going to the front. In these labors he sustained severe physical injuries which disabled him from ordinary work, and from which he has never fully recovered. The facts are attested by many witnesses whose letters are lying before us. During all this time his services were accepted and made use of by the Gov- ernment, through its responsible officers ; and they were recognized in every way that such services can be recog- nized, except one : He was never paid for them. Eight or nine years ago, being brought by ill health into great need, his friends urged him to bring his claim 18 A DEBT OF HONOR. to the attention of Congress; and, as justice never can be outlawed, he thought best to undertake it. His petition was duly presented in person, modestly setting forth the nature of his services, the fact that he had received no compensation therefor, either from municipal, state or national authority, and asking to be mustered into the service for the period named, with the rank of first er- geant, with pay and pension belonging to that grade, and such other relief as might be just and proper. To the truth of his story, and the equity of his claims, everybody who knew Sergeant Ambler and his history was willing to testify. The late Hon. John Neal, ex-mayor of Port- land, made a statement of his useful services to the sev- eral regiments mentioned in his papers, in the course of which service he had suffered greatly, and been put to heavy charges. Mr. Neal earnestly urged the claim to the favorable consideration of the President, the Secre- tary of War and of Congress. Generals Chamberlain, Fessenden and Shepley, and Governors Washburn of Maine, Padelford and Claflin concurred in the statement and joined in the recommendation. Many other distin- guished officers and civilians who knew the Sergeant per- sonally, or had investigated his case, also joined in it. We copy from the original papers the cordial indorse- ments of Generals McClellan, Dcvens, Hooker, Burnside, Meade and Cogswell, Ex-Governors Goodwin and Stearns of New Hampshire, and eighteen or twenty leading citi- zens of Biddeford, where, at the beginning of the war, Mr. Ambler was in service as city missionaiy. With these papers he went to Washington , but, unfortunately, he had no influential friends there, and no money to pay for assistance, and he could not get a hearing. His papers having been buried in the rooms of the Military Com- mittee for several mouths, and, being told that nothing A DEBT OF HONOR. 19 would be done about them, he at last recovered them, and, heart-sick, impoverished, and in despair, he started for home, on a pass issued to him as a volunteer soldier disabled by injuries. The Franklin-street fire a month ago again swept away the last visible reliance of the old soldier; and, as it is disgraceful that he should be compelled to live by favor while the country is in debt to him, some of those who kviow the facts propose to ask the attention of Congress to them again, in the hope that justice may be done, even at the eleventh hour. Boston Daily Advertiser. WAITING FOR JUSTICE. REPUBLICS may not be ungrateful, but we fear they are sometimes forgetful or neglectful. Valuable services and timely aid do not seem so deserving of reward after the end for which they were sought has been attained as before. Since the close of our civil war many illustrations of this truth have come into notice, but no one has more points of interest than the case of Sergeant I. W. Ambler of our own city. We do not need to go over the points of his eventful life. They have been too often rehearsed to need detailed repetition. When he gallantly offered his services to his adopted country there were enough to proclaim his praises, and dwell with admiration upon his courage, his soldierly qualities, his military experience and the romantic and frequently dangerous adventures of which his life has been so largely made up. He justified all that was said of him and claimed for him. His skill in making soldiers out of civilians was marvellous, and the soldierly training he had himself received in the English army was disseminated among officers and men with the best results. He was at the head of an unor- ganized department of normal military instruction. He drilled the officers, and imparted his thoroughness and method to them, and they in turn drilled the men. He taught sabre and bayonet practice and sword exercise in both infantry and cavalry, and it is safe to say that he was the hardest worked man in camp. When the Sixth WAITING FOR JUSTICE. 21 Maine Regiment went to the front in July, 1801, he joined its fortunes and went to the seat of war. He was assured by the officers, who certainly could ill have spared him, that he would receive the same pay and fare as themselves. But with native gallantry and sol- dierly enthusiasm he did not wait to have set down in black and white what he was to receive for his services and his sacrifices. He preferred to leave that to the honor of the Government, and was never regularly mus- tered in. He remained at the front performing whatever soldierly duty came in his way, until prostrated by sun- stroke some months after, when the War Department passed him home as a soldier on Government account. Subsequently he was in the service of the Government till the close of the war, and leading officers of the army, including McClellan, Devens, Hooker, Burnside, Meade. and many others, as well as distinguished civilians in the North, testified to the important and almost invaluable services that he had rendered. But he never technically belonged to the army, and was never paid for what he did. Worn-out, spent and crippled in the service of this country, he asked it to do him justice ; to pay him what he could have forced it to pay had he been more calculat- ing in looking out for himself, and less thoughtful for the interests of the country to which he had given his alle- giance. The American Congress saw his powerlessness, and virtually snapped its fingers at his petition. This was nine or ten years ago. He went manfully to work to help himself, and those dependent upon him, but ad- verse fortune followed him, and his losses in the Franklin Street fire added more to his heavy burden. We believe his case will be brought before the present Congress. When this body was Republican it refused this brave and devoted soldier the barest justice. Let a Democratic 22 WAITING FOR JUSTICE. majority show itself capable of rising above a paltry tech- nicality, and redeem the country from the reproach of deserting a man who contributed his best strength and skill to preserve it. Boston Post. BOSTON, June 18th, 1878. Hon. BENJ. F. BUTLER : My Dear Sir, I have spent much time this day in a careful examination of documents and certificates in the possession of Sergeant Isaac W. Ambler. You, better than any other person I know, can determine whether such services as Sergeant Ambler rendered in the war of the rebellion, and under such peculiar circumstances, can be adequately, or even at all, compensated by the country under any existing statute. It seems to me that his case is a very remarkable one, or in the unselfish spirit in which they have been given. Your time, as I tell Sergeant Ambler, is so valuable as to render it impossible for you to examine carefully the many certificates from prominent citizens which he has shown to me. I suppose that only by a special Act of Congress can he be remunerated, and he comes to you to ascertain the best method of bringing his case before that body. His character is vouched for by many persons known to you, and by a very highly esteemed friend of mine, who has long and intimately known him, and his claim seems to me to rest on good foundations. With the highest personal esteem for yourself, I am, your obedient servant, W. B. BROWN, Secretary of the Boston Water Power Company. [The original copy of this letter was lost. This is copied from the impression ol .the original in Mr. Brown's letter-press.] PETITION TO COXGEE&S. 23 BOSTON, Mass., 1880. To the Honorable Senate and House of Representatives of the United States. The undersigned, I. W. Ambler, respectfully represents that, having had long experience as a soldier and Drill- Master, he devoted himself at the beginning of the late War to the instruction of officers and soldiers for the ser- vice of the United States. He entered upon this work in Boston, Massachusetts, on the 15th of April, 1861, the third day after the attack on Fort Sumter, and continued so engaged in Massa- chusetts, Maine, and at the front in Virginia, until the 4th of April, 1865, without any compensation therefor, either from Municipal, State or National authorities ; and, moreover, was made a cripple for life by a bayonet wound received while in discharge of his duty. He further represents that he was recognized as a sol- dier and Drill-Officer of the Union Army by the Secretary of War, and other officers in authority, who furnished him transportation, as a wounded soldier to the Soldier's Home at Augusta. In consideration of these facts, proofs of which are given in documents accompanying this, and of his ser- vices, shown by commendatory letters herewith, the un- dersigned, petitioner, humbly begs your Honorable Bodies to grant him such pension or other pecuniary remunera- tion as to you may seem just and equitable, and as in duty bound will ever pray, etc. I. W. AMBLER. 24 TESTIMONIALS. PORTLAND, MAINE, March 15, 1871. This may certify that I have personally known Sergeant I. W. Ambler ever since 1859 ; that I always found him trustworthy, earnest and laborious, a capital swordsman and drill-master, and gifted with uncommon eloquence. His services and suffering in the late rebellion, and the injuries he has sustained, whereby he has lost many years of his life, would entitle him to great consideration if they were known to our rulers. Nevertheless, it would seem that he has claims, which* if not legal and technical, are at least equitable, and ought not to be overlooked in this our day of reckoning and generous acknowledgment of such services he has ren- dered our country. Entertaining these views, I do most heartily commend him to the consideration of our national lawgivers, and to the President of the United States and the Secretary of War. All of which is respectfully submitted. JOHN NEAL. We, the undersigned, concur in the above representa- tions, and hereby join in the recommendation : POLICE DEPARTMENT OF THE CITY or NEW YORK, 300 MULBERRY STREET, To the Honorable Senate and House of Representatives* I hereby certify that Sergeant I. W. Ambler served under my command, with the Sixth Regiment Maine Vol- unteers, and that I find my own signature among his original papers. W. F. SMITH, Late Major-General V. S. Volunteers. TESTIMONIALS. 5 NEW YORK, CITY HALL, 1871. I am satisfied that Sergeant Ambler is fairly entitled to the generous consideration of the authorities for valu- able services rendered during the War, and that it is a case wherein technical objections, if such exist, ought not to stand in the way of ample recompense being awarded him. GEO. B. McCLELLAN, Late Major- General, U. S. A. I am glad to concur in the above recommendations favorable to Sergeant Ambler. A. E. BURNSIDE, Late Major- General U. 8. A. . i I concur in the above recommendations. J. HOOKER, Late Major- General U. S. A. I concur in the recommendations of Generals McClel- lan, Hooker, Burnside and others. C. C. MEADE, Late Major- General U. S. A. NEW YORK. I have examined the letters and papers in possession of Sergeant Ambler. Captain Bugbee, whose Company Sergeant Ambler instructed, was one of the best and most faithful officers in my regiment, and fell at my side in the battle of Williamsburg, Va., at the opening of the Pen in sula Campaign. I cheerfully concur in the commendations and recom- mendations of the officers under whom Sergeant Ambler 26 TESTIMONIALS. served, and trust that he may receive such pecuniary com- pensation and relief as his services are entitled to, and his wound demands. Through Captain Bugbee and Lieutenant Edleison a great many men were furnished to my regiment by Ser- geant Ambler of Boston, and I have no reason to doubt that his statement of the number is correct (300). WILLIAM DWIGHT, JR. Late Col. 70th Regiment, New York Vols. and Brig. -Gen. U. 8. V. BOSTON, MASS., 1871. I know Sergeant Ambler. He drilled many officers under my command. I concur fully in the recommenda- tions above. CHAS. DEVENS, JK., Late Brev. Maj.-Gen. U. S. V. BOSTON, MASS., 1871. From the above endorsements I feel certain that Ser- geant Ambler is entitled to great consideration, and if any irregularity exists in regard to his muster in, it would seem to be the duty of our lawgivers to fully reimburse him, and pay for his services. WM. COGSWELL, Late Brigadier- General U. S. V. We, the undersigned, cordially concur in the foregoing petition : JOHN D. LONG, Governor of Massachusetts. FREDERICK O. PRINCE, Mayor of Boston, Mass. J. G. ABBOTT, Judge. THOMAS TALBOT, Ex-Governor oi Massachusetts. WILLIAM GASTON, Ex-Governor of Massachusetts. TESTIMONIALS. 27 CHAS. LEVI WOODBURY, Judge. HENRY L. PIERCE, Ex-Mayor and Congressman. FREDERICK A. FOSTER, Merchant. EDWARD AVERY, Chairman Central Committee. ALEXANDER H. RICE, Ex-Governor of Massachusetts. ROBERT G. FITCH, Managing Editor of the Post. GEO. S. BOUTWELL, Ex-Governor of Massachusetts. DELANO A. GODDARD, Editor of the Advertiser. E. B. HASKELL, Editor of the Boston Herald. B. P. PALMER, Editor of the Boston Globe. HENRY M. DEXTER, Editor of the Congregationalist. LEVERETT SALTONSTALL. ALEXANDER H. BULLOCK, Ex-Gov. of Massachusetts. STEPHEN N. STOCKWELL, Editor of Boston Journal. BRUNSWICK, MAINE, Nov. 11, 1874. I am well acquainted with Sergeant Ambler, and know him to be a very deserving man. He rendered essential aid to our army during the war as an instructor, and by his formal participation in some of the battles. JOSHUA L. CHAMBERLAIN, Late Major-General U. S. Vols. STATE MAINE, 1871. I know Sergeant Ambler as an instructor of troops and a teacher of the sword, and am happy to concur in the above recommendations. FRANCIS FESSENDEN, Late Brigadier- General U. S. Army. I know Sergeant Ambler well, and have done so for many years. Without pay he rendered me important aid in drilling company officers, in my command, as they came into camp from their various localities. NEAL DOW, Late Brigadier- General U. S. Vols. 28 TESTIMONIALS. I concur in the above recommendation. JAMES D. FESSENDEX, Late Brigadier- General U. S. Vols. Having long and favorably known Sergeant Ambler, \ve fully concur in the foregoing commendations : ICHABOD GOODWIN, Ex-Governor of New Hampshire JOSHUA L. CHAMBERLAIN, Ex-Governor of Maine. ISRAEL WASHBURN, Jr., Ex-Governor of Maine. SETH PADELFORD, Ex-Governor of Rhode Island. WILLIAM CLAFLIN, Ex-Governor of Massachusetts. ONSLOW STEARNS, Ex-Governor of New Hampshire, G. F. SHEPLEY, U. S. Judge, late Brigadier-General United States Volunteers. WASHINGTON, D. C., Jan. 22, 1872. I have known Sergeant Ambler personally and by repu- tation for many years, and I have no doubt that he is eminently deserving the aid and relief he seeks. His services and his sufferings alike entitle him to this recog- nition. J. G. ELAINE, Speaker of the House of Representatives, STATE MAINE, 1871. It is with much pleasure, as well as with a deep sense of duty, that I write this commendation of Sergeant I. W. Ambler, drill-master, and fully concur with the accom- panying recommendations. I personally and intimately knew Sergeant Ambler in the Army of the Potomac, in the autumn of 1861 ; how hard and successfully he labored to drill the raw officers in sword, and soldiers in musket and skirmish exercises, particularly in my regiment, the Sixth Maine ; and I remember instances in which his courageous example and soldierly bearing was of great TESTIMONIALS. 29 service to our troops which had not been under fire, as, for instance, the affair of Lewinsville, Virginia, under General Smith, Sergeant Ambler was the man selected to bear the colors of the Sixth Maine through Baltimore, when the regiment was on its way to Washington, and when an attack by the mob was expected ; he received great injury by poisoned food in Havre-de-Grace, etc., etc. I remember, also, that for his hard and valuable ser- vices in 1861 he received no compensation; and that he was subsequently broken and crippled in body for life in his efforts to aid the Union cause, as his many scars to-day will testify, etc. ; I will only say more, that as I know what I above stated is true, I most earnestly hope a just and grateful country w r ill acknowledge and reward his services. Z. THOMPSON, Chaplain Sixth Maine Regiment, 1861-62. LYNN, MASS, July 7, 1877. The highest praise is due Sergeant I. W. Ambler, who was so well known by the officers and soldiers of the Sixth Maine Regiment. His services as drill officer were unquestionably of great importance to the regiment, as well as the colonel, who was one of the best regimental commanders in the army. The Sergeant was ever at his post, ready to impart what knowledge he had of military discipline, and proved him- self to be a true and devoted soldier to the Union cause, repeatedly exposing himself to the dangers of the battle- field, both before and after receiving injuries from which he can never recover, and it seems a disgrace to the country and her soldiers to allow a person whom I know, 30 TESTIMONIALS. and who has abundant proofs that he performed the duties of a soldier in all its forms, exposing himself to the hardships and dangers of the battle-field, receiving wounds therein, to remain unpaid for the service ren- dered, and the disabilities he received. Has our nation got so low that it can aiford to stoop to such injustice as to let a man who has been acknowledged by the War Department, as well as some of the com- manding generals, as sergeant in the army, suffer for the necessaries of life, while the country is abundantly able to pay for the same. I trust that justice will be done in the matter to the fullest extent. I write these things from personal knowledge at the time of his service, and supposed that he had been fully paid until within a few days, not having seen him since the close of the war. ISAAC FRAZIER, Late Copt. Co. B, 6th Me. Vol. Regt. I can fully concur in the above statement in regard to v Sergeant Ambler, and hope that Congress will, at an early day, consider the claim which the country honestly owes him in my opinion. Lieut. MILTON FRAZIER, 6th Maine Vol. Regt. LYNN, MASS., July, 1877. It gives me great pleasure to recommend Sergeant I. W. Ambler, late of the Sixth Maine Regiment Volunteers, as an accomplished drill-master in 'the sword and bayonet exercise, having taken lessons from him with some forty other officers during the late war. I can speak from per- sonal experience of his soldierly qualities and gentlemanly deportment. TESTIMONIALS. 31 Sergeant Ambler is certainly deserving of every consid- eration for his services during the rebellion, in drilling both officers and men, and, after being disabled, while in the service of his adopted country, and in the line of duty, should certainly receive consideration from the govern- ment which he so ably helped to sustain. The instruction which I received with other officers from Sergeant Ambler, was while under command of General Charles Devens, Jr. J. E. SMITH, Late Capt. 38th Regt. Mass. Vols. BOSTON, MASS. I fully concur in what Capt. J. E. Smith writes, in regard to Sergt. Ambler, being one of the officers to whom he refers as taking lessons in the sword exercise while at Long Island, Boston Harbor, then under the command of Gen. Charles Devens. Sergt. Ambler certainly deserves some recognition from the government for his services during the late w r ar, and it seems a great hardship that so long a time should elapse before some action should be taken in his behalf. J. W. TRAFTON, Late Capt. 27th Regt. Infantry , Mass. Volts. As Ass't Adj't Gen'l at Draft Rendezvous, we became acquainted with Sergt. Ambler, and received instructions from him in the sword exercise, in company with many other officers on duty at that post. We take great pleasure in endorsing all that Capts. Smith and Trafton have said concerning him, and cheerfully 32 TESTIMONIALS. recommend him as a thorough and efficient instructor and soldier, with our associate officers. W. A. HILL, Late Capt. 19th Mass. Infantry. E. A. FISK, Late Capt. 30th Mass. Infantry. EZRA FARNSWORTH, JR., Late Capt. 30th Mass. Infantry. E. G. TUTEIN, Late Capt. 1st Mass. Regt. Vols. C. H. HAYWARD, Late Capt. 23d Mass. Regt. Vols, C. H. HAMLEN, Late Capt. 14th Mass. Battery. B. DAVIS, Late Capt. 22d Mass. Regt. Vols. R. B. HENDERSON, Late Capt. 13th Mass. Regt. Vols. -BO YD, Late Capt. 19th Mass. Regt. Vols. BOSTON, MASS. Sergeant I. W. Ambler entered the military service of the United States in the early part of 1861, as an instructor in the Sixth Regiment Maine Infantry Volunteers, where I first made his acquaintance. He was a proficient, zealous and successful instructor, not only in sword and bayonet exercise , but also in deport- ment, soldierly bearing, and all the influences which a thoroughly trained soldier exercises upon his less experi- enced comrades ; his example and teachings were of great value in developing the high military qualities which this gallant regiment so often gave most signal evidence of possessing. TESTIMONIALS. 33 Sergeant Ambler was always to be found at the post of greatest danger even when by military rule exempt, and on many very trying occasions, by his presence and exam- ple, rendered efficient service, not only to his adopted country, but to the establishment of the brilliant military record of troops with which he served. I most sincerely hope that he may be successful in ob- taining a pension, to which, I believe, he is by his military merits and services, fully entitled. T. W. PORTER, Late Col. 14th Maine Regt. Vols. TO THE PRESS AND PEOPLE OF MAINE. We, the undersigned, members of the Sixth Maine Regiment of Volunteers, are desirous of calling the at- tention of the people of our State to the present position and distress of Sergeant I. W. Ambler, of Biddeford, and of publicly testifying our gratitude to him for the invaluable service he has rendered to us. Sergeant Ambler was engaged in drilling our regiment, both officers and men, for several months last year in the vicinity of Washington, and to his instructions, we believe, the regiment owes very much of its efficiency and success. To his teaching some of us owe the preservation of our lives upon thejield of battle. He has also been engaged in drilling and instructing other of our Maine regiments, and many individuals con- nected with the service, both as officers and privates. He is now disabled by wounds received while engaged in this noble work, and without the means of earning his support. Such a man should not suffer w T hile a county remains which we can call our own. (Signed by) C. EDES, L. H. WHITIER, WM. SHERMAN, SIDNEY W. TUCKER, F. G. LEIGHTON. TESTIMONIALS. C:> BIDDEFORD, MAINE, 1862. Sergeant I. W. Ambler proposes to leave us for a sea- 3on, and we, the undersigned, cannot permit him to go without bearing willing testimony to his Christian charac- ter and fidelity, as a good missionary among the poor of this place. He has been abundant in labors for their good ; minis- tered to their wants ; reclaimed many inebriates ; kindly expostulated with sellers of liquors, and persuaded them to give up their traffic; visited the sick ; consoled the dy- ing ; gathered at one time about one hundred and seventy little ones into a most interesting mission school. He has preached the glad tidings frequently, and to many in sea- son and out of season. Mr. Ambler is an accomplished military tactician, having seen long service in foreign lands, and when the news came in 1861 that his adopted flag had been insulted, and that it no longer waved from Sumter, he immediately left the pulpit for the drill-room, giving his whole time, without remuneration, to the instruction of officers and men labor- ing in Maine, Massachusetts, and Virginia ; giving his whole time and energies to aid the cause of freedom, regardless alike of fatigue and personal comfort, and by so doing has been made a cripple for life ; thus depriving himself and family of those comforts which otherwise they might have enjoyed. Mr. Ambler is a reformed man ; has gone through all this war and touched not, handled not, tasted not, any intoxicating liquors. " He that ruleth his spirit is better than he that takcth a city." (Signed by) LEONARD ANDREWS, Contractor. CHARLES HARDY, Inventor. 36 TESTIMONIALS. REV. JOHN STEVENS, Freewill Baptist Minister. JAMES M. PALMER, Pastor Second Congregational Church. CHAULES TANNEY, Pastor Pavilion Church. E. H. BANKS, Merchant. J. HUBBARD, JR., Pastor Baptist Church. CHARLES A. SHAW, Mayor. ALVAN BACON, M. D. DRYDEN SMITH, M. D. WM. YEOMAN, Pastor Free Baptist Church. "VVM. BERRY, Police Judge. ABEL JELLESON, Judge Municipal Court. G. N. "WEYMOUTH, Attorn ey-at-Law. WM. P. HAINES, Treasurer of Pepperell Mills. R. M. CHAPMAN, Cashier Biddeford Bank. HORACE PIPER, High School Teacher. C. C. MASON, Pastor Methodist Episcopal Church, Saco. BOSTON, MASS., March 25, 1880. This is to certify that I have known Sergeant I. W. Ambler intimately for over twenty years, or ever since he was city missionary at Biddeford, Maine, in 1859-60 ; that he was engaged in giving military instruction at the breaking out of the war of the rebellion in 1861 ; that in 1862 he was brought to Biddeford wounded, where he was treated medically by Dr. E. G. Stevens and other physi- cians ; that after partially recovering, he again engaged in military service, giving instructions to both officers and men, in which employment he continued until the close of the war. Mr. Ambler had had nearly ten years' experience in military service before the year 1861, and is considered one of the best swordsmen and teachers of military tactics in the United States. He devoted over four of the best years of his life to the country during the rebellion, was severely wounded, lost his health, and TESTIMONIALS. 87 has never received one cent of remuneration ; but, on the contrary, has spent a good deal of time and money in vain endeavors to obtain his just dues. I know Mr. Ambler to be a thoroughly honorable, up- right, Christian* man, one who has done a great work among his fellow men, as well as for his country ; and can bear testimony to the fact, that the impression in the community, especially amongst those most conversant with the subject, is that his claims on the government for remuneration are not only just, but have been, heretofore, very wrongfully ignored. Dr. E. G. Stevens, whose certificate is given above, is a physician of high standing, in regular practice, and who is thoroughly reliable in every respect. CHARLES A. SHAW, Ex-Mayor of Biddeford, Maine. Co. H, 1st. REG'T. CAMP SCOTT, June 29th, 1861. BROTHER AMBLER : Dear Sir: I take a spare moment to thank you for your kindness and the services you rendered me. AVe arc here and at home ; well received and kindly treated. Colonel D wight is a fine man, n good officer, and well beloved by all, and we are all happy we are here. My company musters ninety-two men, and I expect to have one hun- dred inside of the next twenty-four hours. Edlesson, who was sergeant, but now second lieutenant, wishes you to have those instructions in the sword written off for him. Capt. AA r . H. BUGBEE. 38 TESTIMONIALS. BOSTON, May 2nd, 1861. To Adjutant-General SCHOULER, Dear Sir: We have known I. W. Ambler for some time, and have all confidence in his integrity. Any arms the department may commit to his care, we have no doubt will be both properly cared for and accounted for. HENRY HOYT, WILLIAM R. STACY, CHAS. H. PARKER, CHAS. W. BABCOCK. BOSTON, June llth, 1861 I. W. AMBLER, Esq., Sir: The members of the Boston British Drill Club are to meet to-night in Revere Hall, Bowdoin Square, at eight o'clock precisely, your attendance is earnestly re- quested therefore please fail not. By order HEXRY F. MAGEE, Clerk, pro tern. Deeming it of the highest importance in these rebellious times to be prepared for any emergency, and to be better qualified to defend our country and uphold the laws of our land, we, young men of Boston not enrolled in any military organization of the city, agree to assemble for instruction and drill for military tactics, under the direc- tion of I. W. Ambler. Signed by one hundred and four volunteers. George N. Fuller, Jacob Cherry, H. E. Merrian, J. E. Vcrrill, A. Carsley, E. II. Br:izcr, Frank A. Ladd, C. B. Dnnforth, E. M. Wescott, P. R. Hubbard, TESTIMONIALS. F. A. Sergent, William A. Lerva, Thomas Atkinson, Jr., S. L. Mnrison, Joseph Smith, W. B. May hew, F. E. Brett, S. D. Moody, G. Renton Carter, J. W. Morrill, I. I. Kemp, C. J. Muldor, Wm. L. Howard, Alped W. Worthley, Charles B. Tower, A. G. Foss, Oliver L. Briggs, David Billings, A. R. Paslin, 39 Charles II. Dowe, Edward P. Light, George E. Pond, Abram C. Paul, H. W. Littlefield, Frank Q. Bundy, George O. Preston, Daniel F. Wood, F. R. Allen, E. Farnsworth, Jr., W. A. Waugh, E. E. Butterfield, Robert L. Merrett, John A. Cole, Wm. S. Rugg, E. A. Pearson, John E. Bailey, T. E. Bo wen, POST OFFICE, BOSTON, MASS. His Excellency the Governor, JOHN A. ANDREW : Sir: I formed some acquaintance with Mr. Ambler while he was drilling some military officers in our depart- ment of this building (the hall in the Post Office build- ing). I understand that he has since distinguished himself in the field. He is desirous of being employed in recruiting, in which service I learn that he has been successful ; and afterwards to be engaged in instructing his recruits. I ask leave respectfully to recommend him to your Excellency's notice. I have the honor to be your Excellenc3 7 's Most obedient servant, JOHN G. PALFREY. 40 TESTIMONIALS. HEADQUARTERS GTH REOT. ME. VOLS. August 30th, 1861. Guards will pass Drill-master Ambler to Washington and return on the 31st. HIRAM BURNHAM, Lieut. Col. Good till Monday. WM. F. SMITH, Brig. Oen. ComcTg. HEADQUARTERS, ("AMP LYOX. Sept. 18G1. Pass Drill-officer Ambler, 6th Maine, over Chain Bridge and return. By order Brig. Gen. RUFUS KING, Asst. Adj. Gen. HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT DRAFTED MEN, LONG ISLAND BOSTON HARBOR. Oct. 8th, 1863. Pass Sergeant Ambler to Long Island and return by boat. Good until further orders, By order of Brig. Gen. DEVENS, W. A. HILL, Lieut. A. A. A. G. This shows the Sergeant's first service here, and the last on the back of this general pass is the following from Captain Rand. April 4th, 1863. Corporal of the Guard will consider this good until further orders. Signed RAND TESTIMONIALS. .' 1 WAR DEPARTMENT. WASHINGTON, Sept. 10th, 1861. Agent N. H. & N. L. and Stonington Railroad Co., Boston. Please furnish Sergeant Ambler, Sixth Regiment Maine Volunteers, with passage, free of charge to him, from Boston to New York, on government account. Relieved from duty upon certificate of Thomas A. Scott. Cause, returning from recruiting. By order of Secretary of War, THOMAS A. SCOTT, General Manager of Government Railways and Telegraphs. Received Ticket. 1861. Note. Please file this order and return it to the depart- ment with account stated to the first of each month properly certified for payment. THE NATIONAL ASYLUM FOR DISABLED VOLUNTEER SOLDIERS. WASHINGTON, April 16th, 1872. Please furnish transportation from Washington to Bid- deford, Me., for I. W. Ambler, a Volunteer Soldier dis- abled by injuries, en route to the Military Asylum, and render account of "the same to General W. S. Tilton, Treasurer of the Military Asylum at Augusta. BENJ. F. BUTLER, Manager N. A. D. V. S. To the agent of the B. & O. R. R. at Washington. WASHINGTON, D.C., 1872. I have been acquainted with Mr. I. W. Ambler for many years as city missionary, in Biddeford, Me., and while in the service of the United States, as drill-sergeant, 42 TESTIMONIALS. during the Lite war. Mr. Ambler came to my rooms in this city some time in August, 1861, disabled from sun- stroke, and remained with me until he was able to return to the field. Learning that he is about to apply to Con- gress for compensation for his services in defence of the Union, I deem it a duty, as well as a pleasure, to earnestly commend him to that honorable body as a gen- tleman worthy of confidence, and, in my judgment, en- titled to relief. D. E. SOMES, Late Representative in Congress. BOSTON, MASS., MARCH, 22, 1880. I, the undersigned, hereby certify, that I have known Serjeant I. W. Ambler for about twenty years, that after the beginning of the late rebellion of the United States he was employed to give military instruction in drilling the soldiers in the service of the United States, that during the spring of 18G2, Sergeant I. W. Ambler made application to me, then in practice of medicine, in the city of Bidde- ford, Me., for treatment of a hemorrhage of blood from the stomach and bowels, claimed by him to be caused by sudden and severe strain while engaged in giving musket or bayonet exercise in drilling soldiers of the United States Army, and that I did treat him during the time in which he was wearing splints for a fractured arm. ELBRIDGE G. STEVENS, M.D. SACO, ME., MARCH 13, 1871. This may certify that I have known Sergeant I. W. Ambler for a long series of years, both before and since the war of the Rebellion, and on the breaking out of the war he threw all aside and entered heart and hand into the service of the United States. A\ r hile thus engaged he TESTIMONIALS. 43 received an injury causing the rupture of a blood-vessel, from the effects of which he has never fully recovered, as over-exercise ever since and at the present time, produces a repetition of the trouble. He also received a dislocation of the right wrist and a fracture of the left, and since these injuries, has been unable, and, in my opinion, ever will be, to attend to business of any description to advantage. J. E. M. KIMBALL, M.D., Late Surgeon 27th Regt. Me. Vols. COMMONWEALTH, MASS., SURGEON-GENERAL'S OFFICE, BOSTON, March 26th, 1880. I certify that I have this day examined the hand (left) of Sergeant I. W. Ambler, and am of the opinion that the same is useless to him in any occupation, on account of wound of left wrist, incurred in line of duty. WM. J. DALE, Surgeon- General. From the Boston Daily Advertiser, January 16, 1880. The original petition, of which this is an attested copy, together with attested copies of all the papers, letters, passes, etc., referred to in the petition, has been presented to the Senate, and referred to the Committee on Pension Claims. The history on which the petition is based, and of which these letters, papers, etc., have been given in evidence, is briefly set forth in the enclosed printed state- ment here submitted for information. It was written by myself, and is, to the best of my knowledge and belief, true. DELANO A. GODDARD, Editor Boston Daily Advertiser. 44 TESTIMONIALS. Let mo add : Would such a story bo listened to with patience were it a mere invention, or only founded on facts? Would not every American spring to his feet if these charges were made by a sensationist, a book-moter, or by a mere story-teller ? What then shall we say, when assured of their truth of their unquestionable truth? Shall so great a, wrong bo passed over unrebuked ? Are we not all sharers in the guilt of unthankfulness, and of unqualified injustice ? The wonder is why he has not been allowed a pension notwith- standing certain technical objections, alike trivial and worthless. But, enough. Read the book and judge for yourselves, my countrymen. JOHN NEAL, Author of " Seventy-Six." I, Wm. E. Bicknell, Justice of the Peace for the Com- monwealth of Massachusetts, do hereby certify that the foregoing are true and correct copies of letters and testi- monials in the possession of I. W. Ambler, which he has shown to, and which have been compared by me with the foregoing. WM. E. BICKNELL, Justice of the Peace. SUMMING UP OF EVIDENCE. BY A FRIEND. More conclusive evidence of the justice of a claim than is contained in the foregoing chain of testimony, no man could have, and certainly it would be positive and wanton unreason to demand a more complete establishment of case before giving it favorable consideration. This claim has received an indorsement that ought to have over whelming weight. Men of national prominence, in both civil and military affairs, governors of States, literary men, leading newspapers, and leading citizens, after a thorough acquaintance with the merits of this question, declare almost with indignation at the delay, that by every principle and precept of justice Sergeant Ambler is entitled to a pension, to a recognition of his services, and the consideration that has been accorded to others in our late war, whose sacrifices were much less than his, and whose condition is at present much more comfortable. The refusal of the government thus far to recognize his claims has been based on the technical and unmanly plea that there was an irregularity about his mustering in. Was there ever a more contemptible quibble? Does it not speak the more to his honor that he gave his services to the Union cause through the entire period of the rebel- lion, without taking precautions looking to personal profit? Does it not show that his only motive in offering 46 SUMMING UP OF EVIDENCE. his services was the good of his adopted country, that in her hour of danger and trial he was ready to defend her, that he was above all thought of pecuniary considera- tion ? If the Sergeant had waited for a large bounty to be of- fered before offering his services, there would have been no irregularity about His mustering in ; no hesitation about giving him his pay, and no refusal to reward his injuries with a pension. But he was an unselfish soldier, intent only on sustain- ing the honor of the nation, taking no forethought to secure himself, and for that reason is neglected by the government, which should not only have recognized his services with pecuniary reward, but with the honor of well-deserved promotion. Can it be, the reader asks, that so brave and unselfish a soldier as Sergeant Ambler has thus been neglected? Can it be that he gave his valuable experience and labor all those years for nothing? Can it be possible that he was made a cripple for life in the army, thus depriving himself and family of those comforts which otherwise they might have enjoyed? Can it be that a great and generous gov- ernment like that of the United States will allow the charge of leaving one of its bravest soldiers, disabled for life in its service, to fight his way through life unaided because of a flimsy technicality, to be brought against it? This is the state of the case. Sergeant Ambler has not yet been paid; Sergeant Ambler has not yet been pen- sioned, because of the irregularity aforesaid. The govern- ment did not allow this technicality to stand in the way of accepting his services. It did not say: "Sergeant Ambler, SUMMING UP OF EVIDENCE. 47 we can't let you drill and organize our men ; we can't let you make good soldiers of them ; we can't let you instruct them in the use of arms, and in military discipline ; we can't let you accompany them to the front and show them a brave example under fire, for there is some technical irre- gularity in your mustering in." O, no, there were no technicalities standing in the way then ; no irregularities in the way then ; no shuffling or cavilling about the way a good soldier went into the army then ; and so the ser- vices of Sergeant Ambler, technicality or no technicality, were gladly received. But let us consider this alleged irregularity for a mo- ment. The government excuses its action, or inaction, in regard to Sergeant Ambler's case on the plea that it does not find his name on the regular muster-roll of the regi- ment, and for this reason refuses to recognize his services. But during the war the government recognized Sergeant Ambler as a soldier in its army. When disabled at the front he was relieved from duty and furnished passage home by order of the Secretary of War. What had the Secretary of War to do with him if he did not belong to the government service. His pass home and to return de- scribes him as a volunteer soldier disabled by injuries. This was surely recognizing him as belonging to the gov- ernment. Moreover, John Neal, of Portland, writes to the Secretary of War, informing him that that "brave and patriotic man, Sergeant Ambler, who was relived from ac- tive duty by the government, and sent from the front on leave of absence to the State of Maine to recruit his health, is now organizing and drilling regiments with one arm in splints." In answer to this letter the Secretary of War sent a dispatch to Mr. Neal, telling him to tell Ser- SUMMING UP OF EVIDENCE. geant Ambler to keep on with the noble work till further orders. John Xeal writes to ex-Secretary of State, Hon. J. G. Blaine, saying Sergeant Ambler's sufferings and services make him eminently deserving of reward. Major General Win. F. Smith writes to the United States Senate, that Sergeant Ambler served under his command as a volunteer soldier. Gen. Geo. B. McClellan recognized his services as valuable, and says that technical objections ought not to stand in the way of ample compensation. Gen. Devens and Gen. Cogswell, of Massachusetts, em- phatically assent to the same. The Generals and Managers of the National Asylum for Disabled Volunteer Soldiers, Washington, D. C., recog- nized the Sergeant's services and wounds by furnishing him with transportation from Washington to the State of Maine as a volunteer soldier, disabled by injuries, en-route to the Military Asylum at Augusta. E. G. Stevens, M.D., testified in 1862 : Application was made to me to treat Sergeant Ambler for a hemorrhage of blood from the stomach and bowels, and at the same time he received treatment from me he was wearing splints for a fractured arm, received while doing his duty in the Union army. J. E. S. Kimball, M.D., late Surgeon 27th Regiment M. V., testifies to the nature of the injuries. Surgeon General Dale of Massachusetts testifies to Sergeant Ambler re- ceiving permanent injuries in the line of duty. The foregoing evidence that Sergeant Ambler was recognized by the government as one of its soldiers is most emphatic and conclusive. Care was taken to make SUMMING UP OF EVIDENCE. 49 the pass which procured him the facilities of travel good for his return. The government not only recognized him as a soldier, but when he was incapacitated for duty, and sent home, furnished him with means- of getting back again. If Sergeant Ambler had deserted at this time the gov- ernment would have shown him how little it cared for irregularities of mustering in. But despite irregularity it was necessary for him to be relieved from duty by order of the War Department before he could leave his regi- ment. If he had not been recognized as a Union soldier no such order would have been necessary. It follows then that if the government recognized him as serving in its armies, it is bound by every principle of justice to allow him the same compensation allowed to others during the war, and a pension such as others permanently disabled have received since its close. Until that is done those who constitute the government have no right to say that the claims of patriotic soldiers have been fully recognized. Certainly the pension appropriation i s large enough to cover services like Sergeant Ambler's, and where is there a claim upon it more thoroughly indorsed on the score of merit than his? BATTLE CHARGE, IN WHICH PRIVATE WM. SCOTT FELL. Amid all the sad scenes which the soldier is called to witness, a kind Providence has so arranged that there should be mingled with the fearful something of the beau- tiful as well. Such was the scene at the battle of Lee's Mills, during the bombardment of the enemy's fort by Capt. Mott's battery, of which I had the honor of drilling some of the men in this country, and in the old country, belonging to that battery. The first impression after coming upon the scene of action was one of wonder and admiration at its brilliancy and sublimity. It was in an open field, surrounded by the grand old pine trees such as you would find in Virginia at that time. In the foreground, beyond some chimneys left standing, was a peach orchard all in bloom, with all the gorgeous hues so well known to those who have seen the sight, and still further on the grand old woods towering towards the heavens in all their majesty. In the distant front was an opening in the woods, in which was seen the Warwick Creek. Across the creek was the enemy's rifle pits, and still further on the fort itself. In rear of the chimneys mentioned was stationed Capt. Mott's battery, containing six brass field pieces, which were throwing shells into the fort across the creek. Amid the spirited animation of the scene, the officers rode rapidly BATTLE CHARGE. to and fro, giving in quick tones the words of command; the gunners sprang to their work as if their very life de- pended upon the energy and activity of their motions; the lightning streaming from the cannon, the howling and his- sing of the iron thunderbolts hurled into the distant fort, and the fiend like scream of the whistling demon scorning through the air, as they came nearer and nearer right into their midst, or exploded over their heads, with the fire of fury and death. It is fearfully deafening, and your ears will whistle and sing for days after. Two hundred brave heroes were picked out for the storming party from the Third Vermont Regiment. They were paraded and marched to the creek, awaiting the sig- nal with almost breathless impatience, with a hope of soon planting their colors on the battered fort. Soon the word of command to advance was given. In a twinkling our men dashed into the creek, and were soon seen breast high in the water, amidst a deadly storm of leaden rain. The ammunition in their pouches was rendered almost useless, and when they reached the opposite side they reformed their ranks. At the word forward, march, they moved with firm and steady step, and the long line of burnished steel, with glittering points sparkling in the glorious light of heaven, seemed pointed with the fire of vengeance. When they dropped into a flashing horizontal as the command charge was given, and the men dashed forward with a wild huzza, and bounded upon the trenches in the face of a constant spitting of rifles from the sharpshooters, and presented them the piercing points of the polished steel in return for their bullets. It was j^ sharp and decisive struggle, a fierce encounter BATTLE CHARGE. of steel to steel, but the desperate and determined onset of the brave Vermonters bore all before them. The enemy turned tail, and took refuge in their fort, leaving our boys master of their rifle pits. It was then discovered that in fording the stream many of our men had wei their ammunition and could not fire a shot, and were.Jet't without supports. The enemy perceiving this soon r*a- lied and charged upon the green mountain boys with over- whelming numbers, and a frightful struggle took place, which ended in driving those heroic men back into the creek, where the dead, wounded and dying layed in mingled masses, totally routed and fearfully defeated. It can be said in admiration of those heroic men, as Lord St. Vincent said to Lord Nelson after his repulse when he made the attack on Boulogne, " It is not in mor- tals to command success, but you have done more, you have deserved it." The first one to fall in this charge was the pardoned soldier William Scott, who was sentenced to be shot for sleeping at his post, and has been immortalized in that beautiful poem by Francis DeHaes Janiver, " The Sleep- ing Sentinel." 3 THE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA Santa Barbara THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW. Series 9482