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THE BOYS OF '61;
OR,
Four Years of Fighting.

PERSONAL OBSERVATION WITH THE ARMY AND NAVY,

FROM THE FIRST BATTLE OF BULL RUN TO THE FALL OF RICHMOND

BY
CHARLES CARLETON COFFIN,

AUTHOR OF "THE BOYS OF '76," "THE STORY OF LIBERTY," "WINNING HIS WAY." "MY DAYS AND NIGHTS ON THE BATTLEFIELD," "FOLLOWING THE FLAG," "OUR NEW WAY ROUND THE WORLD," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED.

BOSTON:
PUBLISHED BY ESTES AND LAURIAT,
301-305Washington Street.
1886.

Copyright, 1881 by
ESTES AND LAURIAT.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by
CHARLES CARLETON COFFIN,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.

Charge through an abattis.

(p. iii) PREFATORY NOTE.

This volume, though historic, is not a history of the Rebellion, but arecord of personal observations and experiences during the war, withan occasional look at affairs in general to give clearness to thenarrative. The time has not arrived for the writing of an impartialhistory of the conflict between Slavery and Freedom in the UnitedStates. Reports of military operations are incomplete; documents inthe archives at Washington are inaccessible; much material remains tobe gathered before the patient historian can sift the wheat from thechaff. More than this, the war of ideas is not yet ended. DefeatedRebels in some parts of the South are bent on exterminating theAfrican race. Few of those lately in rebellion plead guilty of havingcommitted a crime; taking up arms against the government they considerto have been a blunder only. We are, therefore, too near the greatevents to render proper judgment upon questions in which ourprinciples and sympathies have been enlisted.

The chapter concerning the Confederate Cotton Loan may seem to be outof place in a volume of which so large a portion is given tonarrative, but I trust that it will be acceptable to the generalreader, inasmuch as it reveals the efforts of the Rebels to array allEurope against the United States in the late struggle. Thecorrespondence in my possession was picked up in the streets ofRichmond, and will be of value to the future historian. The chapter inquestion is but an outline of the operations of the Confederatesabroad.

(p. iv) In looking over the sheets as they came from the press,several errors relative to the organization and formation of troops inbattle have been detected, which, however, will appear in but a fewcopies. Undoubtedly there are others, and the writer will esteem it afavor to be put right wherever he is in the wrong. Few officialreports of regimental and brigade officers have been published, whilethe reports of division and corps commanders are only general in theirstatements. The true history of battles cannot be given till thehistory of regiments is written.

My stand-point as an observer is that of one whose instincts fromearly childhood have been on the side of Freedom. I have ever believedthat Civil Liberty is the birthright of all men, and from the firingupon Sumter to the close of the contest had full faith that thepeople, under God, would subdue the Rebellion, and give freedom to theslave.

The four years have been worth a century of ordinary life; for in themighty contest Right has triumphed over Wrong, and the human race,with a clearer perception of Truth and Justice as the sure foundationof government, is moving on to a higher civilization.

C. C. C.

(p. v) CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER.
BEGINNING OF THE CONFLICT.

(p. xvii) ILLUSTRATIONS

• Charge through an AbatisFrontispiece
• The First Subscription1
• Capitol at Washington4
• Pro Patria7
• Sixth Massachusetts Regiment in Baltimore8
• Guarding Long Bridge12
• Aid Society's Store-Room16
• The Ideal Freedman16
• Ladies working for the Army22
• Forwarded Free29
• Ellsworth Zouave Drill46
• General Grant—General Sherman54
• Hauling Cotton62
• Baltimore in 186175
• East Tennessee Refugees92
• A Mississippi School-house96
• Gunboats in Line102
• With Dispatch109
• General McClellan at Williamsburg110
• General McClellan at the Battle of Antietam114
• The Sunken Road118
• Battle of Antietam120
• For the Boys in Blue121
• Slaves fleeing to the Army for Protection128
• A Silent Spectator136
• Fredericksburg140
• Franklin's Attack155
• Tattoo173
• The Magic Lantern in the Hospital174
• The Christian Commission in the Field176
• Busy Fingers178
• Chancellorsville188
• Battery at Chancellorsville194
• Sedgwick's Attack201
• Leading a Charge204
• Salem Church208
• "Keep out of the Draft"211
• Night March of Cavalry214
• Kearny Cross223
• The Nation's Ward234
• A Bird's-Nest Bank247
• Cavalry Charge258
• Advance to Gettysburg263
• The Color-Bearer272
• Gettysburg Battle-Field280
• With a "Hurrah" they rush on296
• A Regiment at Dinner305
• Wilderness317
• Spottsylvania323
• The Sanitary Commission in the Hospital326
• North Anna331
• (p. xviii)Bayonet Charge332
• Cold Harbor334
• Negroes coming into the Lines344
• Foraging348
• One Day's Labor, One Day's Income362
• Petersburg, July 17, 1864365
• Petersburg, July 30, 1864368
• Army Corps Chapel near Petersburg368
• Ruins of Chambersburg388
• A Lay Delegate in the Hospital390
• Edward Everett—Mt Vernon—Savannah—The Capitol401
• Sherman's Bummers420
• Fort Sumter435
• Mississippi River Hospital Steamer443
• Battle of Fort Sumter444
• Cooper Shop Volunteer Refreshment Saloon453
• Defence of Fort Sumter456
• For our Flag461
• "John Brown" in Charleston480
• Citizens' Volunteer Hospital484
• Troops destroying a Railroad486
• Fire Ambulance498
• Humiliation of Richmond506
• Farragut at Mobile510
• President Lincoln in Richmond512
• Abraham Lincoln514
• U. S. Christian Commission522
• Captain Winslow and the Kearsarge—Admiral Farragut528
• Patriot Orphan Home, Flushing, L. I.542
• Surrender of General Lee544
• General Lee's Farewell554
• Study for a Statue of Lincoln555
• Assassination of Lincoln556
• With a Lavish Hand558

The first subscription.

Capitol at Washington.

(p. 001) THE BOYS OF '61.

INTRODUCTORY.
BEGINNING OF THE CONFLICT.

After four years of war our country rests in peace. The GreatRebellion has been subdued, and the power and authority of the UnitedStates government are recognized in all the States. It has been aconflict of ideas and principles. Millions of men have been in arms.Great battles have been fought. There have been deeds of sublimestheroism and exhibitions of Christian patriotism which shall stir thehearts of those who are to live in the coming ages. Men who at thebeginning of the struggle were scarcely known beyond their villagehomes are numbered now among

"the immortal names
That were not born to die";

while the names of others who once occupied places of honor and trust,who forswore their allegiance to their country and gave themselves todo wickedly, shall be held forever in abhorrence.

It has been my privilege to accompany the armies of the Union throughthis mighty struggle. I was an eye-witness of the first battle at BullRun, of Fort Donelson, Pittsburg Landing, Corinth, Island No. 10, FortPillow, Memphis, Antietam, Fredericksburg, Gettysburg, Fort Sumter,Wilderness, Spottsylvania, North Anna, Hanover Court-House, ColdHarbor, Petersburg, Weldon Railroad, and Five Forks. I was in Savannahsoon after its occupation by Sherman on his great march to the sea,and watched his movement "northward with the sun." I walked thestreets of Charleston in the hour of her deepest humiliation, androde into Richmond on the day that the stars(p. 002) of the Unionwere thrown in triumph to the breeze above the Confederate Capitol.

It seems a dream, and yet when I turn to the numerous note-books lyingbefore me, and read the pencilings made on the march, thebattle-field, in the hospital, and by the flickering camp-fires, it isno longer a fancy or a picture of the imagination, but a reality. Thescenes return. I behold once more the moving columns,—their wavingbanners,—the sunlight gleaming from gun-barrel and bayonet,—themusket's flash and cannon's flame. I hear the drum-beat and the wildhurrah! Grant, Sherman, Sheridan, Meade, Burnside, Howard, Hancock,and Logan are leading them; while Sedgwick, Wadsworth, McPherson,Mansfield, Richardson, Rice, Baker, Wallace, Shaw, Lowell, Winthrop,Putnam, and thousands of patriots, are laying down their lives fortheir country. Abraham Lincoln walks the streets of Richmond, and ishailed as the Great Deliverer,—the ally of the Messiah!

It will be my aim in this volume to reproduce some of thosescenes,—to give truthful narratives of events, descriptions ofbattles, incidents of life in camp, in the hospital, on the march, inthe hour of battle on land and sea,—writing nothing in malice, noteven towards those who have fought against the Union. I shall endeavorto give the truth of history rather than the romance; facts instead ofphilosophy; to make real the scenes of the mighty struggle throughwhich we have passed.

On the 11th of June, 1861, I left Boston to become an ArmyCorrespondent. The patriotism of the North was at flood-tide. Herdrum-beat was heard in every village. Men were leaving their ownaffairs to serve their country. The stars and stripes waved fromhouse-top and steeple. New York was a sea of banners. Ladies woreUnion rosettes in their hair, while gentlemen's neck-ties were of"red, white, and blue." That family was poor indeed who could neitherby cloth or colored tissue-paper manifest its love for the Union. Themusic of the streets—vocal and instrumental—was "Hail Columbia" and"Yankee Doodle." Everywhere,—in city and town and village, in Boston,New York, and Philadelphia,—there was the same spirit manifested byold and young, of both(p. 003) sexes, to put down the Rebellion, costwhat it might of blood and treasure.

Baltimore presented a striking contrast to the other great cities. Itwas dull and gloomy. The stars and stripes waved over the Eutaw House,from the American newspaper office, where the brothers Fultonmaintained unswerving loyalty. A few other residents had thrown theflag to the breeze, but Secession was powerful, and darkly plottedtreason. There was frequent communication with the Rebels, who weremustering at Manassas. Business was at a stand still. The pulses oftrade had stopped. Merchants waited in vain for customers through thelong summer day. Females, calling themselves ladies, daintily gatheredup their skirts whenever they passed an officer or soldier wearing thearmy blue in the streets, and manifested in other ways their utmostcontempt for all who supported the Union.

General Butler, who had subdued the rampant Secessionists by hisvigorous measures, had been ordered to Fortress Monroe, and GeneralBanks had just assumed command. His head-quarters were in FortMcHenry. A regiment of raw Pennsylvanians was encamped on the hill, bythe roadside leading to the fort. Officers and soldiers alike wereignorant of military tactics. Three weeks previous they were followingthe plough, or digging in the coal-mines, or smelting iron. It wasamusing to watch their attempts at evolution. They were drilling bysquads and companies. "Right face," shouted an officer to his squad. Afew executed the order correctly, some faced to the left, while othersfaced first right, then left, and general confusion ensued.

So, too, were the officers ignorant of proper military phrases. At onetime a captain, whose last command had been a pair of draft-horses onhis Pennsylvania farm, on coming to a pit in the road, electrified hiscompany by the stentorian order to "Gee round that hole."

It was a beautiful evening, and the moon was shining brightly, when Icalled upon General Banks. Outside the fort were the field batteriesbelonging to the Baltimore Artillery which had been delivered up toGovernor Hicks in April. The Secessionists raved over the transactionat the time, and in their rage(p. 004) cursed the Governor who turnedthem over to the United States authorities. Soldiers were buildingabattis, and training guns—sixty-four pounders—to bear upon thecity, for even then there were signs of an upheaval of the Secessionelements, and General Banks deemed it best to be prepared for whatevermight happen. But the Rebels on that day were moving from Harper'sFerry, having destroyed all the property of the Baltimore and OhioRailroad Company in the vicinity.

Passing on to Washington I found it in a hubbub. Troops were pouringin, raw, undisciplined, yet of material to make the best soldiers inthe world,—poets, painters, artists, artisans, mechanics, printers,men of letters, bankers, merchants, and ministers were in the ranks.There was a constant rumble of artillery in the streets,—the jarringof baggage-wagons, and the tramping of men. Soldiers were quartered inthe Capitol. They spread their blankets in the corridors, and madethemselves at home in the halls. Hostilities had commenced. Ellsworthhad just been carried to his last resting-place. The bodies ofWinthrop and Greble were then being borne to burial, wrapped in theflag of their country.

Colonel Stone, with a number of regiments, was marching out fromWashington to picket the Potomac from Washington to Point of Rocks.General Patterson was on the upper Potomac, General McClellan andGeneral Rosecrans, with Virginia and Ohio troops, were driving theRebels from Rich Mountain, while General McDowell was preparing tomove upon Manassas.

These were all new names to the public. Patterson had served in theMexican war, but the people had forgotten it. McClellan was known onlyas an engineer, who had made a report concerning the proposed railroadto the Pacific, and had visited Russia during the Crimean war. GeneralWool was in New York, old and feeble, too far advanced in life to takethe field. The people were looking up to General Scott as the Herculesof the hour. Some one had called him the "Great Captain of the Age."He was of gigantic stature, and had fought gallantly on the Canadianfrontier in 1812, and with his well-appointed army had marched intriumph into the City of Mexico. The events of the last war withEngland, and(p. 005) that with Mexico, in which General Scott wasalways the central figure, had been rehearsed by the stump-orators ofa great political party during an exciting campaign. His likeness wasfamiliar to every American. It was to be found in parlors, saloons,beer-shops, and in all public places,—representing him as a hero ingold-embroidered coat, epaulets, chapeau, and nodding plume. His wasthe genius to direct the gathering hosts. So the people believed. Hewas a Virginian, but loyal. The newspapers lauded him.

"General Scott is watching the Rebels with sleepless vigilance," wasthe not unfrequent telegraphic despatch sent from Washington.

But he was seventy-five years of age. His powers were failing. His oldwound troubled him at times. He could walk only with difficulty, andit tired him to ride the few rods between his house and the WarDepartment. He was slow and sluggish in all his thoughts and actions.Yet the people had confidence in him, and he in himself.

The newspapers were filled with absurd rumors and statementsconcerning the movements and intentions of the Rebels. It was saidthat Beauregard had sixty thousand men at Manassas. A New York paper,having a large circulation, pictured Manassas as an impregnableposition; a plain commanded by heavy guns upon the surrounding hills!It is indeed a plain, but the "commanding" hills are wanting. Rumorreported that General Joseph E. Johnston, who was in the Shenandoahvalley, destroying the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, and burning thebridges across the Potomac, had thirty thousand men; but we now knowthat his whole force consisted of nine regiments, two battalions ofinfantry, three hundred cavalry, and sixteen pieces of artillery.

It was for the interest of the Rebels to magnify their numbers andresources. These exaggerations had their effect at the War Departmentin Washington. General Butler proposed the early occupation ofManassas, to cut off communication by rail between Richmond and upperVirginia, but his proposition was rejected by General Scott. Thetroops in and around Washington were only partially organized intobrigades. There was not much system. Everybody was full of zeal andenergy,(p. 006) and there was manifest impatience among the soldiersat the inactivity of the commander-in-chief.

The same was true of the Rebels. They were mustering at Manassas.Regiments and battalions were pouring through Richmond. Southern womenwelcomed them with sweetest smiles, presented them with fairestflowers, and urged them on to drive the "usurper" from Washington.Southern newspapers, from the commencement, had been urging thecapture of the Federal capital. Said the RichmondExaminer, of April23d:—

General Beauregard was the most prominent of the Rebel commanders,having been brought before the public by the surrender of Fort Sumter.Next in prominence were the two Johnstons, Joseph E. and AlbertSydney, and General Bragg. Stonewall Jackson had not been heard from.Leo had just gone over to the Rebels. He had remained with GeneralScott,—his confidant and chief adviser,—till the 19th of April, and(p. 007) was made commander of the Rebel forces in Virginia on the22d. The Convention of Virginia, then in session at Richmond, passedthe ordinance of secession on the 17th,—to be submitted to the peoplefor ratification or rejection five weeks later. Lee had thereforecommitted an act of treason without the paltry justification of theplea that he was following the lead of his State.

Such was the general aspect of affairs when, in June, I receivedpermission from the War Department to become an army correspondent.

Pro Patria.

(p. 008) CHAPTER I.
AROUND WASHINGTON.

In March, 1861, there was no town in Virginia more thriving thanAlexandria; in June there was no place so desolate and gloomy. Ivisited it on the 17th. Grass was growing in the streets. Grains ofcorn had sprouted on the wharves, and were throwing up luxuriantstalks. The wholesale stores were all closed; the dwelling-houses wereshut. Few of the inhabitants were to be seen. The stars and stripeswaved over the Marshall House, the place where Ellsworth fell. A mileout from the city, on a beautiful plain, was the camp of theMassachusetts Fifth, in which were two companies from Charlestown.When at home they were accustomed to celebrate the anniversary of thebattle of Bunker Hill. Although now in the enemy's country, they couldnot forget the day. They sat down to an ample collation. Eloquentspeeches were made, and an ode was sung, written by one of theirnumber.

"Though many miles away
From home and friends to-day,
We're cheerful still;
For, brothers, side by side
We stand in manly pride,
Beneath the shadow wide
Of Bunker Hill."

Boom—boom—boom was the quick report of far-distant cannon. Whatcould it be? A reconnoitring party of Ohio troops had gone up theLoudon railroad. Had anything happened to them? There were eagerinquiries. The men fall into line, prepared for any emergency. A fewhours later the train returned, bringing back the mangled bodies ofthose who fell in the ambuscade at Vienna.

Sixth Massachusetts regiment in Baltimore.

I talked with the wounded. They were moving slowly up the road,—aregiment on platform cars, pushed by the engine.(p. 009) Beforereaching Vienna an old man stepped out from the bushes making signsand gestures for them to stop.

"Don't go. The Rebels are at Vienna."

"Only guerillas, I reckon," said one of the officers.

General Schenck, who was in command, waved his hand to the engineer,and the train moved on. Suddenly there were quick discharges ofartillery, a rattling fire of small arms, and unearthly yells fromfront and flank, within an hundred yards. The unsuspecting soldierswere riddled with solid shot, canister, and rifle-balls. Some tumbledheadlong, never to rise again. Those who were uninjured leaped fromthe cars. There was great confusion.

"Lie down!" cried some of the officers.

"Fall in!" shouted others.

Each did, for the moment, what seemed best. Some of the soldiers firedat random, in the direction of the unseen enemy. Some crouched behindthe cars; others gained the shelter of the woods, where a line wasformed.

"Why don't you fall into line?" was the sharp command of an officer toa soldier standing beside a tree.

"I would, sir, if I could," was the reply, and the soldier exhibitedhis arm, torn by a cannon shot.

They gathered up the wounded, carried them to the rear in blankets,began their homeward march, while the Rebels, eleven hundred strong,up to this moment sheltered behind a woodpile, rushed out, destroyedthe cars, and retreated to Fairfax.

When the news reached Alexandria, a portion of the troops there werehastily sent forward; they had a weary march. Morning brought nobreakfast, noon no dinner. A Secessionist had fled from his home,leaving his flocks and herds behind. The Connecticut boys appropriatedone of the cows. They had no camp utensils, and were forced to broiltheir steaks upon the coals. It was my first dinner in the field. Saltwas lacking, but hunger gave the meat an excellent seasoning. Fortable and furniture we had the head of a barrel, a jack-knife, and achop-stick cut from a hazel-bush.

Congress assembled on the 4th of July, and the members availedthemselves of the opportunity to visit the troops. Vallandigham(p. 010) of Ohio, who by word and act had manifested his sympathy forthe Rebels, visited the Second Ohio, commanded by Colonel McCook,afterwards Major-General. I witnessed the reception given him by theboys of the Buckeye State. The officers treated him courteously, butnot cordially. Not so the men.

"There is that d—d traitor in camp," said one, with flashing eyes.

"He is no better than a Rebel," said another.

"He helped slaughter our boys at Vienna the other day," said a third.

"Let us hustle him out of camp," remarked a fourth.

"Don't do anything rash. Let us inform him that his presence is notdesired," said one.

A committee was chosen to wait upon Vallandigham. They performed theirduty respectfully. He heard them, and became red in the face.

"Do you think that I am to be intimidated by a pack of blackguardsfrom northern Ohio?" he said. "I shall come to this camp as often as Iplease,—every day if I choose,—and I give you notice that I willhave you taken care of. I shall report your insolence. I will see if apass from General Scott is not to be respected."

Turning to the officers, he began to inquire the names of thesoldiers. The news that Vallandigham was there had spread throughoutthe camp, and a crowd was gathering. The soldiers were sore over theslaughter at Vienna, and began to manifest their hatred and contemptby groans and hisses.

"If you expect to frighten me, you have mistaken your man. I amashamed of you. I am sorry for the honor of the State that you haveseen fit to insult me," he said.

"Who has the most reason to be ashamed, you of us, or we of you?" saidone of the soldiers. "We are here fighting for our country, which youare trying to destroy. What is your shame worth? You fired at us theother day. You helped kill our comrades. There isn't a loyal man inthe country whose cheek does not redden with shame whenever your nameis mentioned," was the indignant reply.

Vallandigham walked into the officers' quarters. The soldiers(p. 011) soon had an effigy, labelled "Vallandigham the traitor,"hanging by the neck from a tree. They riddled it with bullets, thentook it down and rode it on a rail, the fifers playing the "Rogues'March." When Vallandigham left the camp, they gave him a farewellsalute of groans and hisses. A few of the soldiers threw onions andold boots at him, but his person was uninjured. He did not repeat hisvisit. He was so cross-grained by nature, so thorough a traitor, thatthrough the session of Congress and through the war he lost noopportunity to manifest his hatred of the soldiers.

It was past sunset on the 9th of July, when, accompanied by a friend,I left Alexandria for Washington in an open carriage. Nearing the LongBridge, an officer on horseback, in a red-flannel blouse, dashed downupon us, saying: "I am an officer of the Garibaldi Guard; my regimenthas mutinied, and the men are on their way to Washington! I want youto hurry past them, give notice to the guard at the Long Bridge, andhave the draw taken up." We promised to do so if possible, and sooncame upon the mutineers, who were hastening towards the bridge. Theywere greatly excited. They were talking loud and boisterously inGerman. Their guns were loaded. There were seven nations representedin the regiment. Few of them could understand English. We knew that ifwe could get in advance of them, the two six-pounders looking down theLong Bridge, with grape and canister rammed home, would quell themutiny. We passed those in the rear, had almost reached the head ofthe column, when out sprang a dozen in front of us and levelled theirguns. Click—click—click went the locks.

"You no goes to Vashington in ze advance!" said one.

"You falls in ze rear!" said another.

"What does this mean?" said my friend, who was an officer. "Where isyour captain?" he asked.

The captain came up.

"What right have your men to stop us, sir? Who gave them authority? Wehave passes, sir; explain this matter."

The captain, a stout, thick-set German, was evidently completely(p. 012) taken aback by these questions, but, after a moment'shesitation, replied,—

"No, zur, they no stops you; it was von mistake, zur. They will do zono more." Then approaching close to the carriage, he lowered hisvoice, and in a confidential tone, as if we were his best friends,asked, "Please, zur, vill you be zo kind as to tell me vat is thepassvord?"

"It's not nine o'clock yet. The sentinels are not posted. You neednone."

A tall, big-whiskered soldier had been listening. He could speakEnglish quite well, and, evidently desiring to apologize for therudeness of his comrades, approached and said, "You see weGaribaldians are having a time of it, and—"

Here the captain gave him a vigorous push, with a "Hush!" long drawn,which had a great deal of meaning in it.

"I begs your pardons for ze interruption," said the captain, extendinghis hand and bowing politely.

Once more we moved on, but again the excited leaders, more furiousthan before, thrust their bayonets in our faces, again saying, "You nogoes to Vashington in ze advance." One of them took deliberate aim atmy breast, his eyes glaring fiercely.

It would have been the height of madness to disregard theirdemonstration. They had reached the guard at the Virginia end of thebridge, who, at a loss to know what it meant, allowed them to passunchallenged.

Guarding long bridge.

Now that we were compelled to follow, there was time to think ofcontingencies. What if our horses had started? or what if in thedarkness a soldier, grieving over his imaginary wrong, and reckless oflife, had misunderstood us? or what if the loyal officers of theregiment remaining at Alexandria had given notice by telegraph of whathad happened, and those two cannon at the Washington end of the bridgehad poured their iron hail and leaden rain along the causeway? It wasnot pleasant to think of these possibilities, but we were in forwhatever might happen; and, remembering that God's providence isalways good and never evil, we followed our escort over the bridge.They halted on the avenue, while we rode with all speed to GeneralMansfield's quarters.

(p. 013) "I'll have every one of the rascals shot!" said thegray-haired veteran commanding the forces in Washington. An hour laterthe Garibaldians found themselves surrounded by five thousandinfantry. They laid down their arms when they saw it was no use toresist, were marched back to Alexandria, and put to the hard drudgeryof camp life.

The soldiers had an amusing story to tell of one of their number whowent into the lager-beer business, the sale of beer being thenallowed. A sutler put a barrel on tap, and soon had a crowd of thirstycustomers. But the head of the barrel was exposed in the rear. Asoldier spying it, soon had that end on tap, and was doing a thrivingbusiness, selling at five cents a glass from his end of the barrel. Hehad a constant run of custom. When the crowd had satisfied theirthirst, one of the soldiers approached the sutler.

"What do you charge for a glass?" he asked.

"Ten cents."

"Ten cents! Why, I can get just as much as I want for five."

"Not in this camp."

"Yes, sir, in this camp."

"Where, I should like to know?"

"Right round here."

The sutler crawled out from his tent to see about it, and stoodtransfixed with astonishment when he beheld the operation at the otherend of his barrel. He was received with a hearty laugh, while theingenious Yankee who was drawing the lager had the impudence to askhim if he wouldn't take a drink!

Virginia was pre-eminently the land of a feudal aristocracy, whichprided itself on name and blood,—an aristocracy delighting to traceits lineage back to the cavaliers of Old England, and which lookeddown with haughty contempt upon the man who earned his bread by thesweat of his brow. The original "gentleman" of Virginia possessedgreat estates, which were not acquired by thrift and industry, butreceived as grants through kingly favor. But a thriftless system ofagriculture, pursued unvaryingly through two centuries, had greatlyreduced(p. 014) the patrimony of many sons and daughters of thecavaliers, who looked out of broken windows and rickety dwellings uponexhausted lands, overgrown with small oaks and diminutive pines. Yetthey clung with tenacity to their pride.

"The Yankees are nothing but old scrubs," said a little Virginia girlof only ten years to me.

A young lady was brought to General Tyler's head-quarters at FallsChurch to answer a charge of having given information to the enemy.Her dress was worn and faded, her shoes were down at the heel and outat the toes. There was nothing left of the estate of her fathersexcept a mean old house and one aged negro slave. She was reduced toabsolute poverty, yet was too proud to work, and was waited upon bythe superannuated negro.

"You are accused, madam, of having given information to the enemy,"said General Tyler.

The lady bowed haughtily.

"You live in this old house down here?"

"I would have you understand, sir, that my name is Delaney. I did notexpect to be insulted!" she exclaimed, indignantly. Words cannotdescribe her proud bearing. It was a manifestation of her regard forblood, gentility, name, and her hatred of labor. The history of theRebellion was in that reply.

Virginia was also the land of sirens. A captain in a Connecticutregiment, lured by the sweet voice of a young lady, went outside ofthe pickets to spend a pleasant hour; but suddenly the Philistineswere upon him, and he was a captive. Delilah mocked him as he was ledaway. Walking along the picket line on the 12th of July, I found ahalf-dozen Connecticut boys under a fence, keeping close watch ofDelilah's mansion.

"There is a girl over there," said one of them, "who enticed ourcaptain up to the house yesterday, when he was captured. Last nightshe came out and sung a song, and asked a lieutenant to go in and seeher piano and take tea; but he smelt a rat, and was shy. To-nightthere are four of us going to creep up close to the house, and he isgoing in to see the piano."

The trap was set, but the Rebels did not fall into it.

(p. 015) The pickets brought in a negro, one of the first contrabandswho came into the lines of the army of the Potomac. He wasmiddle-aged, tall, black, and wore a checked cotton shirt and slouchedhat. His boots were as sorry specimens of old leather as ever wereworn by human beings. He came up timidly to head-quarters, guarded bytwo soldiers. He made a low bow to the General, not only with hishead, but with his whole body and legs, ending thesalaam with ascrape of his left foot, rolling his eyes and grinning from ear toear.

"What is your name?" asked the General.

"Sam Allston, sah."

"Who do you belong to?"

"I belongs to Massa Allston, sah, from Souf Carolina."

"Where is your master?"

"He be at Fairfax; he belong to Souf Carolina regiment, sah."

"How came you here?"

"Why, ye see, General, massa told me to go out and buy some chickens,and I come right straight down here, sah."

"You didn't expect to buy them here, did you?"

"No, sah; but I thought I would like to see de Yankees."

"I reckon I shall have to send you back, Sam."

This was said not seriously, but to test Sam's sincerity.

"I don't want to go back, sah. Wouldn't go back no how if I could helpit; rather go a thousand miles away up Norf than go down Souf, sah.They knock me about down there. Massa whipped me last week, fortalking with de other niggers about de war. O massa, don't send meback again! I'll do anything for you, massa."

He was the picture of anguish, and stood wringing his hands while thetears rolled down his cheeks. Freedom, with all its imaginedblessings, was before him; slavery, with all its certain horrors,behind him.

The General questioned him about the Rebels.

"They say they will whip you Yankees. Dere's right smart chance of 'emat Fairfax, General Bonham in command. Souf Carolina is kinder mad atyou Yankees. But now dey is kinder waiting for you to come, thoughthey be packing up their trunks, as if getting ready to move."

(p. 016) All of his stories corroborated previous intelligence, andhis information was of value.

"Well, Sam, I won't send you back," said the General. "You may gowhere you please about the camp."

"De Lord God Almighty bless you, sah!" was the joyful exclamation.There was no happier man in the world than Sam Allston that night. Hehad found that which his soul most longed for,—Freedom!

Aid Society's store-room.

The ideal freedman.

(p. 017) CHAPTER II.
BULL RUN.

At noon, on the 17th of July, the troops under General McDowell tookup their line of march toward Fairfax, without baggage, carrying threedays' rations in their haversacks. One division, under General Tyler,which had been encamped at Falls Church, marched to Vienna, while theother divisions, moving from Alexandria, advanced upon FairfaxCourt-House.

It was a grand pageant, the long column of bayonets and high-wavingflags. Union men whose homes were at Fairfax accompanied the march."It does my eyes good to see the troops in motion at last," said one."I have been exiled seven weeks. I know nothing about my family,although I have been within a dozen miles of them all the time. I camefrom the North three years ago. The Secessionists hated me, theythreatened to hang me, and I had to leave mighty sudden."

The head of General Tyler's column reached Vienna at sunset. Theinfantry turned into the fields, while the artillery took positions onthe hills. Near the railroad was a large woodpile, behind which theSouth Carolinians took shelter, when they fired upon the Ohio boys onthe cars. It was convenient for bivouac fires, and the men helpedthemselves willingly. There I received instructions from CaptainAlexander, of the engineers, an old campaigner in Mexico, which,during the four years of the war, I have never forgotten.

"Always sleep on the lee side of your bivouac fire," he said. "Thefire dries the ground, the heat envelopes you like a blanket; it willkeep off fever and ague. Better endure the discomfort of the smoke,better look like a Cincinnati ham, than to feel an ache in every bonein the morning, which you will be likely to feel if you spread yourblankets on the windward(p. 018) side, for then you have littlebenefit of the heat, but receive the full rush of the air, whichchills you on one side, while you are roasting on the other." It waswise counsel, and by heeding it I have saved my bones from many anache.

It was at this place that a very laughable incident occurred. One ofthe citizens of Vienna had a bee-house well stocked with hives. Asoldier espied them. He seized a hive and ran. Out came the bees,buzzing about his ears. Another soldier, thinking to do better, upsethis hive, and seized the comb, dripping with honey. Being also hotlybesieged, he dropped it, ran his hands through his hair, slapped hisface, swung his arms, and fought manfully. Other soldiers seeing whatwas going on, and anxious to secure a portion of the coveted sweets,came up, and over went the half-dozen hives. The air was full ofenraged insects, which stung men and horses indiscriminately, andwhich finally put a whole regiment to flight.

The Southern newspapers at this time were "firing the Southern heart,"as they phrased it, by picturing the vandalism of the North.Beauregard, on the 5th of June, at Manassas, issued a manifestoaddressed "to the people of the counties of Loudon, Fairfax, andPrince William." Thus it read:—

In contrast to this fulmination of falsehoods, General McDowell hadissued an order on the 2d of June, three days previous, directingofficers to transmit statements on the following points:—

"First. The quantity of land taken possession of for the several field-works, and the kind and value of the crops growing thereon, if any.Second. The quantity of land used for the several encampments,(p. 019) and the kind and value of the growing crops, if any.Third. The number, size, and character of the buildings appropriated to public purposes.Fourth. The quantity and value of trees cut down.Fifth. The kind and extent of fencing destroyed. These statements will, as far as possible, give the value of the property taken, or of the damage sustained, and the name or names of the owners."[1]

A portion of the troops bivouacked in an oat-field, where the grainwas standing in shocks, and some of the artillerymen appropriated theconvenient forage.

The owner was complaining bitterly of the devastations. "They havetaken my grain, and I want my pay for it," he said to me.

"Are you a Union man?" I asked.

"I was for the Union till Virginia seceded, and of course had to gowith her; but whether I am a Union man or not, the government is boundto respect private property," he replied.

At that moment General Tyler rode past.

"Say, General, ain't you going to pay me for my property which yoursoldiers destroyed?"

"There is my quartermaster; he will settle it with you."

The man received a voucher for whatever had been taken. The columntook up its line of march, passed through a narrow belt of woods, andreached a hill from which Fairfax Court-House was in full view. ARebel flag was waving over the town. There were two pieces of Rebelartillery in a field, a dozen wagons in park, squads of soldiers insight, horsemen galloping in all directions. Nearer, in a meadow was asquadron of cavalry on picket. I stood beside Captain (since General)Hawley of Connecticut, commanding the skirmishers.

"Let me take your Sharpe's rifle," said he to a soldier. He rested iton the fence, ran his eye along the barrel, and fired. The nearestRebel horseman, half a mile distant, slipped from his horse in aninstant, and fell upon the ground. It was the first shot fired by thegrand army on the march towards Manassas. The other troopers put spursto their horses and fled towards Fairfax, where a sudden commotion wasvisible.

"The Rebels are in force just ahead!" said an officer who hadadvanced a short distance into the woods.

(p. 020) "First and second pieces into position," said Captain Varian,commanding a New York battery. The horses leaped ahead, and in amoment the two pieces were pointing toward Fairfax. The futurehistorian, or the traveller wandering over the battle-fields of theRebellion, who may be curious to know where the first cannon-shotswere fired, will find the locality at Flint Hill, at that time thesite of a small school-house. The cannon were on either side of thebuilding.

"Load with shell," was the order, and the cartridges went home in aninstant.

Standing behind the pieces and looking directly along the road underthe shadow of the overhanging trees, I could see the Rebels in ahollow beyond a farm-house. The shells went screaming towards them,and in an instant they disappeared, running into the woods, castingaway blankets, haversacks, and other equipments.

The column moved on. The occupants of the house met us with joyfulcountenances. The good woman, formerly from New Jersey, brought out apan of milk, at which we took a long pull.

"I can't take pay; it is pay enough to see your countenances," shesaid.

Turning from Fairfax road the troops moved toward Germantown, north ofFairfax,—a place of six miserable huts, over one of which theConfederate flag was flying. Bonham's brigade of South Carolinians wasthere. Ayer's battery galloped into position. A shell was sent amongthem. They were about leaving, having been ordered to retreat byBeauregard. The shell accelerated their movements. Camp equipage,barrels of flour, clothing, entrenching tools, were left behind, andwe made ourselves merry over their running.

Those were the days of romance. War was a pastime, a picnic, anagreeable diversion.

A gray-haired old negro came out from his cabin, rolling his eyes andgazing at the Yankees.

"Have you seen any Rebels this morning?" we asked.

"Gosh a'mighty, massa! Dey was here as thick as bees, ges 'fore youcum; but when dat ar bumshell cum screaming among 'em, dey ran as ifde Ole Harry was after 'em."

(p. 021) All of this, the flight of the Rebels, the negro's story, wasexhilarating to the troops, who more than ever felt that the march toRichmond was going to be a nice affair.

On the morning of the 18th the head of the column entered Centreville,once a thrifty place, where travellers from the western counties foundconvenient rest on their journeys to Washington and Alexandria. Itsvitality was gone. The houses were old and poor. Although occupyingone of the most picturesque situations in the world, it was in thelast stages of decay.

A German met us with a welcome. Negro women peeped at us through thechinks of the walls where the clay had fallen out. At a largetwo-story house, which in former days reflected the glory of the OldDominion, sat a man far gone with consumption. He had a pitiful storyto tell of his losses by the Rebels.

Here we saw the women of Centreville, so accomplished in the practiceof snuff-dipping, filling their teeth and gums with snuff, and passinground the cup with one swab for the company!

Richardson's brigade turned towards Blackburn's ford. Suddenly therewas a booming of artillery, followed by a sharp skirmish, whichBeauregard in his Report calls the first battle of Manassas. This wasin distinction from that fought on the 21st, which is generally knownas the battle of Bull Run.

It was a reconnoissance on the part of General Tyler to feel theposition of the enemy. It might have been conducted more adroitly,without sacrifice. Under cover of skirmishers and artillery, theirpositions would have been ascertained; no doubt their batteries couldhave been carried if suitable arrangements had been made. But the longcannonading brought down hosts of reinforcements from Manassas. Andwhen too late, three or four regiments were ordered down to thesupport of the Union troops.

The First Massachusetts received the hottest of the fire. One soldierin the thickest of the fight was shot; he passed his musket to hiscomrade, saying, "It is all right, Bill," and immediately expired. Thesoldier standing next to Lieutenant-Colonel Wells, received two shotsin his arm. He handed his(p. 022) gun to the Colonel, saying, "Here,I can't use it; take it and use it." A great many of the soldiers hadtheir clothes shot through. One had three balls in his coat, but cameout unharmed.

As it is not intended that this volume shall be a history of the war,but rather a panorama of it, we must pass briefly in review the firstgreat battle of the war at Bull Run, and the flight to Washington.

The day was calm and peaceful. Everywhere save upon the heights ofCentreville and the plains of Manassas it was a day of rest.

"I'll tell you what I heard that day,—
I heard the great guns far away,
Boom after boom!"

Long before sunrise the troops of the attacking column rose from theirbivouac and moved away towards the west. The sun had but just risenwhen Benjamin's batteries were thundering at Blackburn's ford, andTyler was pressing upon the Stone Bridge. It was past eight o'clockbefore the first light ripple of musketry was heard at Sudley Springs,where Burnside was turning the left flank of the Rebels. Then came theopening of the cannonade and the increasing roar as regiment afterregiment fell into line, and moved southward, through the thickets ofpine. Sharp and clear above the musketry rose the cheers of thecombatants.

"If you whip us, you will lick ninety thousand men. We have Johnston'sarmy with us. Johnston came yesterday, and a lot more from Richmond,"said a prisoner, boastfully.

Onward pressed the Union troops, success attending their arms. Thebattle was going in our favor. It was a little past three o'clock,when, standing by the broken-down stone bridge which the Rebels haddestroyed, I had a full view of the action going on near Mrs. Henry'shouse. The field beyond the Rebel line was full of stragglers.

Ladies working for the Army.

A correspondent of the CharlestonMercury thus writes of the aspectof affairs in the Rebel lines at that moment:—

"When I entered the field at two o'clock the fortunes of the day were dark. The regiments so badly injured, or wounded and worn, as they staggered out gave gloomy pictures of the scene. We could not be(p. 023) routed, perhaps, but it is doubtful whether we were destined to a victory."

"All seemed about to be lost," wrote the correspondent of the RichmondDispatch. There was a dust-cloud in the west. I saw it rising overthe distant woods, approaching nearer each moment. A few moments laterthe fatal mistake of Major Barry was made.[2] Griffin and Rickettscould have overwhelmed the newly arrived troops, less than threeregiments, with canister. But it was not so to be. One volley from theRebels, and the tide of affairs was reversed; and the Union army,instead of being victor, was vanquished.

A few moments before the disaster by Mrs. Henry's house, I walked pastGeneral Schenck's brigade, which was standing in the road a few rodseast of the bridge. A Rebel battery beyond the run was throwingshells, one of which ploughed through the Second Ohio, mangling twosoldiers, sprinkling their warm blood upon the greensward.

While drinking at a spring, there was a sudden uproar, a rattling ofmusketry, and one or two discharges of artillery. Soldiers streamedpast, throwing away their guns and equipments. Ayer's battery dasheddown the turnpike. A baggage wagon was hurled into the ditch in atwinkling. A hack from Washington, which had brought out a party ofCongressmen, was splintered to kindlings. Drivers cut their horsesloose and fled in precipitate haste. Instinct is quick to act. Therewas no time to deliberate, or to obtain information. A swift pace fora half-mile placed me beyond Cub Run, where, standing on a knoll, Ihad a good opportunity to survey the sight, painful, yet ludicrous tobehold. The soldiers, as they crossed the stream, regained theircomposure and fell into a walk. But the panic like a wave rolled overCentreville to Fairfax. The teamsters of the immense wagon train threwbags of coffee and corn, barrels of beef and pork, and boxes of bread,upon the ground, and fled in terror towards Alexandria. The fright wassoon over. The lines at Centreville were in tolerable order when Ileft that place at five o'clock.

Experience is an excellent teacher, though the tuition is sometimesexpensive. There has been no repetition of the(p. 024) scenes of thatafternoon during the war. The lesson was salutary. The Rebels onseveral occasions had the same difficulty. At Fair Oaks, Glendale, andMalvern we now know how greatly demoralized they became. No troops areexempt from the liability of a panic. Old players are not secure fromstage fright. The coolest surgeon cannot always control his nerves.The soldiers of the Union in the battle of Bull Run were not cowards.They fought resolutely. The contest was sustained from early in themorning till three in the afternoon. The troops had marched fromCentreville. The heat had been intense. Their breakfast was eaten atone o'clock in the morning. They were hungry and parched with thirst,yet they pushed the Rebels back from Sudley Springs, past the turnpiketo the hill by Mrs. Henry's.

There is abundant evidence that the Rebels considered the day as lost,when Kirby Smith arrived.

Says the writer in the RichmondDispatch, alluded to above:—

Smith had about seventeen hundred men instead of four thousand, but hecame upon the field in such a manner, that some of the Union officerssupposed it was a portion of McDowell's troops. Smith was thereforepermitted to take a flanking position within close musket-shot ofRickett's and Griffin's batteries unmolested. One volley, and thevictory was changed to defeat. Through chance alone it seemed, butreally through Providence, the Rebels won the field. The cavalrycharge, of which so much was said at the time, was a feeble affair.The panic began the moment that Smith opened upon Ricketts andGriffin. The cavalry did not advance till the army was in fullretreat.

It is laughable to read the accounts of the battle published in theSouthern papers. The RichmondDispatch has a letter written fromManassas 23d July, which has throughout evidences of candor, and yetthis writer says, "We have captured sixty-seven pieces of artillery,"while we had only thirty-eight guns on the field. Most necromancershave the ability to produce hens' eggs without number from amysterious bag, but how they could capture sixty-seven pieces ofcannon, when McDowell had but thirty-eight, is indeed remarkable. Thesame writer asserts that we carried into action the Palmetto State andthe Confederate flags.

Here is the story of a wonderful cannon-ball. Says the writer: "Awhole regiment of the enemy appeared in sight, going at double-quickdown the Centreville road. Major Walton immediately ordered anothershot. With the aid of our glass we could see them about two miles off.There was no obstruction, and the whole front of the regiment wasexposed.One half were seen to fall, and if General Johnston had notat that moment sent an order to cease firing, nearly the wholeregiment would have been killed!" The half that did not fall ought tobe grateful to Major Walton for not firing a second shot. The writersays in conclusion: "Thus did fifteen thousand men, with eighteenpieces of artillery, drive back ingloriously(p. 026) a forceexceeding thirty-five thousand, supported by nearly one hundred piecesof cannon. We have captured nine hundred prisoners, sixty-seven piecesof cannon, Armstrong guns and rifled cannon, hundreds of wagons, loadsof provisions and ammunition."

One writer asserted that thirty-two thousand pairs of handcuffs weretaken, designed for Rebel prisoners! This absurd statement wasbelieved throughout the South. In January, 1862, while in Kentucky, Imet a Southern lady who declared that it must be true, for she hadseen a pair of the handcuffs!

The war on the part of the North was undertaken to uphold theConstitution and the Union, but the battle of Bull Run set men tothinking. Four days after the battle, in Washington I met one who allhis lifetime had been a Democrat, standing stanchly by the South tillthe attack on Sumter. Said he: "I go for liberating the niggers. Weare fighting on a false issue. The negro is at the bottom of thetrouble. The South is fighting for the negro, and nothing else. Theyuse him to defeat us, and we shall be compelled to use him to defeatthem."

These sentiments were gaining ground. General Butler had retained thenegroes who came into his camp, calling them "contraband of war." Menwere beginning to discuss the propriety of not only retaining, but ofseizing, the slaves of those who were in arms against the government.The Rebels were using them in the construction of fortifications. Whynot place them in the category with gunpowder, horses, and cattle? Thereply was, "We must respect the Union people of the South." But wherewere the Union people?

There were some in Western Virginia, Kentucky, Tennessee, andMissouri; but very few in Eastern Virginia. At Centreville there wasone man in the seedy village who said he was for the Union: he was aGerman. At a farm-house just out of the village, I found an oldNew-Yorker, who was for the Union; but the mass of the people, men,women, and children, had fled,—their minds poisoned with tales of thebrutality of Northern soldiers. The mass of the people bore towardtheir few neighbors, who still stood for the Union, a most implacable(p. 027) hatred. I recall the woebegone look which overspread thecountenance of a good woman at Vienna on Sunday night, when, as shegave me a draught of milk, I made a plain, candid statement of thedisaster which had befallen our army. Her husband had been a friend tothe Federal army, had given up his house for officers' quarters; hadsuffered at the hands of the Rebels; had once been obliged to flee,leaving his wife and family of six children, all of tender age, andthe prospect was gloomy. He had gone to bed, to forget in sleep, ifpossible, the crushing blow. It was near midnight, but the wife andmother could not sleep. She was awake to every approaching footstep,heard every sound, knowing that within a stone's throw of the dwellingthere were those, in former times fast friends, who now would be amongthe first to hound her and her little ones from the place; and why?because they loved the Union!

What had produced this bitterness? There could be but oneanswer,—Slavery. It was clear that, sooner or later, the war wouldbecome one of emancipation,—freedom to the slave of every man foundin arms against the government, or in any way aiding or abettingtreason. How seductive, how tyrannical this same monster Slavery!

Three years before the war, a young man, born and educated among themountains of Berkshire County, Massachusetts, graduating at WilliamsCollege, visited Washington, and called upon Mr. Dawes, member ofCongress from Massachusetts, to obtain his influence in securing aposition at the South as a teacher. Mr. Dawes knew the young man, sonof a citizen of high standing, respected not only as a citizen, but inthe highest branch of the Legislature of the State in former times,and gladly gave his influence to obtain the situation. A few daysafter the battle Mr. Dawes visited the Old Capitol prison to see theprisoners which had been brought in. To his surprise he found amongthem the young man from Berkshire, wearing the uniform of a Rebel.

"How could you find it in your heart to fight against the flag of yourcountry, to turn your back upon your native State, and theinstitutions under which you have been trained?" he asked.

(p. 028) "I didn't want to fight against the flag, but I was compelledto."

"How compelled?"

"Why, you see, they knew I was from the North; and if I hadn'tenlisted, the ladies would have presented me with a petticoat."

He expressed himself averse to taking the oath of allegiance. It wasonly when allusion was made to his parents—the poignant grief whichwould all but break his mother's heart, were she to hear of him as asoldier in the traitors' lines,—that he gave way, and his eyes filledwith tears. He could turn against his country, his State, theinstitutions of freedom, because his heart was in the South, becausehe had dreaded the finger of scorn which would have cowed him with apetticoat, but he could not blot out the influence of a mother's love,a mother's patriotism. He had not lived long enough under the hotbreath of the simoom to have all the early associations withered andcrisped. The mention of "mother" made him a child again.

With him was another Massachusetts man, who had been South many years,and who was more intensely Southern than himself. Another young man, aSouth Carolinian, was a law student in Harvard College when his Stateseceded. He went home to enlist. "If it had not been for the war Ishould now be taking my degree," said he. He was rejoicing over theresult of the battle.

Slavery is not only tyrannical, but it is corrupting to morals. TheSecessionists of St. Joseph, Missouri, in their eagerness toprecipitate a Kansas regiment to destruction, burned a bridge on theHannibal and St. Joseph Railroad, a few miles east of St. Joseph. Thetrain left the city at three o'clock in the morning, and reached thebridge before daybreak. The regiment was not on board, and instead ofdestroying a thousand Union soldiers, a large number of the citizensof St. Joseph,—with women and children, friends and neighbors of theSecessionists,—were plunged into the abyss!

The action of these Missouri barbarians was applauded by theSecessionists of Washington. A friend came into my room late oneevening in great excitement.

(p. 029) "What is the matter?"

"I am sick at heart," said he, "at what I have heard. I called uponsome of my female acquaintances to-night. I knew that they wereSecessionists, but did not think that they were so utterly corrupt asI find them to be. They are refined, intelligent, and have moved inthe first society of Washington. They boldly declared that it wasjustifiable to destroy that railroad train in Missouri; that it isright to poison wells, or violate oaths of allegiance, to help on thecause of the South!"

The bitterness of the women of the South during the Rebellion is astrange phenomenon, without a parallel in history. For the women ofIreland, who in the rebellion of '98 cut off the heads of Englishresidents, and chopped up their victims by piecemeal, were from thebogs and fens,—one remove only from the beasts; but these women ofthe South lay claims to a superior culture. It is one thing to bedevoted heart and soul to a cause, but it is quite another to advanceit at the cost of civilization, Christianity, and the womanly virtues.

The assertion that all women of the South thus gave themselves over todo wickedly, would be altogether too sweeping; a large portion may beincluded. Mrs. Greenhow and Belle Boyd have written out some of theirexploits and machinations for the overthrow of the Union. With them, afalse oath or any measure of deceit, was praiseworthy, if it would butaid the Secession cause. They are fair representatives of the femalesof the South.

Forwarded free.

(p. 030) CHAPTER III.
THE FALL OF 1861.

The months of August and September passed away without any action onthe part of General McClellan, who had been appointed commander of theArmy of the Potomac.

The disaster at Ball's Bluff occurred on the 21st of October, justthree months after the battle of Bull Run. On the afternoon of the 22dthe news was whispered in Washington. Riding at once with afellow-correspondent, Mr. H. M. Smith of the ChicagoTribune, toGeneral McClellan's head-quarters, and entering the anteroom, we foundPresident Lincoln there. I had met him on several occasions, and hewas well acquainted with my friend. He greeted us cordially, but satdown quickly, rested his head upon his hand, and seemed to beunusually agitated. His eyes were sunken, his countenance haggard, hiswhole demeanor that of one who was in trouble.

"Will you please step in here, Mr. President," said an orderly from anadjoining room, from whence came the click of the telegraph. He sooncame out, with his hands clasped upon his breast, his head bowed, hisbody bent as if he were carrying a great burden. He took no notice ofany one, but with downcast eyes and faltering steps passed into thestreet and towards the Executive mansion.

"We have met with a sad disaster. Fifteen hundred men lost, andColonel Baker killed," said General Marcy.

It was that which had overwhelmed the President. Colonel Baker was hispersonal friend. They had long been intimately acquainted. In speakingof that event afterwards, Mr. Lincoln said that it smote him like awhirlwind in a desert. Few men have been appointed of God to bear suchburdens as were laid upon President Lincoln. A distracted country, apeople at war, all the foundations of society broken up; the cares,trials,(p. 031) and perplexities which came every day withoutcessation, disaster upon disaster, the loss of those heloved,—Ellsworth, Baker, and his own darling Willie. A visitor at theWhite House the day of Ellsworth's death found him in tears.

"I will make no apology, gentlemen," said he, "for my weakness; but Iknew poor Ellsworth well, and held him in great regard. Just as youentered the room, Captain Fox left me, after giving me the painfuldetails of Ellsworth's unfortunate death. The event was so unexpected,and the recital so touching, that it quite unmanned me. Poor fellow,"he added, "it was undoubtedly a rash act, but it only shows the heroicspirit that animates our soldiers, from high to low, in this righteouscause of ours. Yet who can restrain grief to see them fall in such away as this,—not by the fortunes of war, but by the hand of anassassin?"

The first time I ever saw Mr. Lincoln was the day after his nominationby the Chicago Convention. I accompanied the committee appointed toinform him of the action of the Convention to Springfield. It wassunset when we reached the plain, unpretentious two-storydwelling,—his Springfield home. Turning to the left as we entered thehall, and passing into the library, we stood in the presence of a tallman, with large features, great, earnest eyes, a countenance which,once looked upon, forever remembered. He received the committee withdignity and yet with evident constraint of manner. The address of Mr.Ashmun, chairman of the committee, was brief, and so was Mr. Lincoln'sreply. Then followed a general introduction of the party.

There was a pitcher of ice-water and goblets on a stand, but therewere no liquors. The next morning a citizen narrated the followingincident.

When the telegraph informed Mr. Lincoln's neighbors that the committeewere on their way, a few of his friends called upon him to makearrangements for their reception.

"You must have some refreshments prepared," said they.

"O certainly, certainly. What shall I get?"

"You will want some brandy, whiskey, wines, &c."

"I can't do that, gentlemen. I never have kept liquors, and I can'tget them now."

(p. 032) "Well, we will supply them."

"No, gentlemen, I can't permit you to do what I would not do myself. Iwill furnish good water and enough of it, but no liquors."

He adhered to his decision; and thus at the beginning of the contestgave an exhibition of that resoluteness of character, thatdetermination of will to adhere to what he felt was right, which wasof such inestimable value to the nation, in carrying the cause of theUnion triumphantly through all the dark days of the Rebellion.

It was sunset when Mr. Smith and myself reached Poolsville, after arapid horseback ride from Washington. The quartermasters were issuingclothing to those who had cast away their garments while swimming theriver. The night was cold. There had been a heavy fall of rain, andthe ground was miry. It was a sad spectacle, those half-naked,shivering soldiers, who had lost everything,—clothes, equipments, andarms. They were almost heart-broken at the disaster.

"I enlisted to fight," said one, "but I don't want to be slaughtered.O my God! shall I ever forget that sight, when the boat went down?" Hecovered his face with his hands, as if to shut out the horridspectacle.

Colonel Baker was sent across the river with the Fifteenth andTwentieth Massachusetts, a portion of the Tammany Regiment of NewYork, and the California regiment, Colonel Baker's own, in all aboutfifteen hundred men. His means of communication were only an old scowand two small boats. He was left to fight unassisted four thousandRebels. Soon after he fell, there was a sudden rush to the boats,which, being overloaded, were instantly swamped. The Rebels had it alltheir own way, standing upon the bank and shooting the drowning men.Colonel Baker's body had been brought off, and was lying atPoolsville. The soldiers of his own regiment were inconsolable.

Poolsville is an insignificant village, situated in one of the richestagricultural districts of Maryland, surrounded by gentle swells ofland, wooded vales, verdant slopes, broad fields, with the far-offmountain ranges and sweeping Potomac,—that combination(p. 033) whichwould be the delight of a painter who loves quiet rural scenery. Thesoil is fertile, and needs only good culture to yield an hundred-fold.Amid such native richness stands the village,—a small collection ofnondescript houses, with overhanging roofs, wide porticos, or shedswhich answer for piazzas, mammoth chimneys, built outside the edifice,as if they were afterthoughts when the houses were constructed. Thestreets are narrow, and the dwellings are huddled together as if therewere but one corner lot, and all were trying to get as close to it aspossible, reminding one of a crowd of boys round the old-fashionedfireplace of a country school-house on a winter's morning. There isnot a new house in the place. The newest one was built many years ago.You look in vain for neat white cottages, with well-kept grounds. Youare astonished at the immense number of old wagons and carriages, withrickety tops, torn canvas, broken wheels, shafts, and batteredbodies,—of old lumber-carts and other weather-beaten vehicles underskeleton sheds. Look where you will, you come to the conclusion thattime has sucked out the juice of everything. There is no freshness, nosign of a renewal of life or of present vitality. There are a smallchurch, and two seedy, needy taverns,—mean-looking, uninvitingplaces, each with its crowd of idle men, canvassing the state ofpublic affairs.

Such was the village in 1861. The streets were alive with "littleimages of God cut in ebony," as Mrs. Stowe calls a negro child. Manyof the "images," however, by contact with the Anglo-Saxon race,through Slavery, had become almost white. There were three or fourhundred inhabitants, a few wealthy, with many poor.

We found accommodations at the best private residence in the place.The owner had a number of outlying farms, and was reported to be verywealthy. He was courteous, and professed to be a Union man. He wasdisposing of his hay and grain to the United States government,receiving the highest prices at his own door. Yet when conversing withhim, he said, "your army," "your troops," as if he were a foreigner. Afuneral procession passed the house,—a company of the MassachusettsFifteenth, bearing to the village graveyard a comrade, who had laiddown his life for his country at Ball's(p. 034) Bluff. Said the wifeof my host to a friend as they passed: "Their government has gotmoney enough, and ought to take the bodies away; we don't want themburied here; it will make the place unhealthy." These expressionsrevealed one thing: that between them and the Federal Union and theConstitution there was no bond of unity. There was no nationalitybinding us together. Once they would not have spoken of the army ofthe United States as "your army." What had caused this alienation?Slavery. An ebony-hued chattel kindled my fire in the morning andblacked my boots. A yellow chattel stood behind my chair at breakfast.A stout chattel, worth twelve hundred dollars, groomed my horse. Therewere a dozen young chattels at play upon the piazza. My host was anowner of human flesh and blood. That made him at heart a Secessionist.The army had not interfered with Slavery. Slaves found their way intothe camp daily, and were promptly returned to their professedly loyalmasters. Yet the presence of the troops was odious to theslaveholders.

In the quiet of affairs around Washington I visited Eastern Maryland,accompanied by two members of the press. The Rebels had closed thenavigation of the Potomac by erecting batteries at Cockpit Point.General Hooker's division was at Budd's Ferry, Port Tobacco, and otherplaces down the river. It was the last day of October,—one of theloveliest of the year,—when we started upon our excursion.

No description can convey an idea of the incomparable loveliness ofthe scenery,—the broad river, with the slow-moving sail-boats, theglassy, unruffled surface, reflecting canvas, masts, and cordage, themany-colored hills, rich with autumnal tints, the marble piles of thecity, the broad streets, the more distant Georgetown, the thousands ofwhite tents near and far away, with all the nice shading and blendingof varied hue in the mellow light. On every hilltop we lingered toenjoy the richness of nature, and to fix in memory the picture which,under the relentless hand of war, would soon be robbed of its peculiarcharms.

Ten miles out and all was changed. The neat, tasteful, comfortableresidences were succeeded by the most dilapidated dwellings. Thefields, green with verdure, gave place to(p. 035) sandy barrens. Tosay that everybody and everything were out at the elbows and down atthe heels is not sufficient. One must see the old buildings,—thecrazy roofs, the unglazed windows, the hingeless doors, the rottingstoops, the reeling barns and sheds, leaning in every direction, as ifall were in drunken carousal,—the broken fences, the surroundinglumber,—of carts, wagons, and used-up carriages, to obtain a correctidea of this picture, so strongly and painfully in contrast to thatfrom the hill-tops overlooking the capital of the country.

The first stopping-place for travellers is the "White Horse." We hadheard much of the White Horse, and somehow had great expectations, orrather an undefined notion that Clark Mills or some other artist hadsculptured from white marble a steed balanced on his hind legs andleaping toward the moon, like that in front of the Presidentialmansion; but our great expectations dwindled like Pip's, when wedescended a hill and came upon a whitewashed, one-story building,—alog-house, uninviting to man or beast. A poplar in front of thedomicile supported a swinging sign, on which the country artist haddisplayed his marvellous skill in painting a white horse standing ontwo legs. It was time for dinner, and the landlady spread the tablefor her guests. There was no gold-tinted bill of fare, withunpronounceable French phrases, no long line of sable waiters in whiteaprons. My memory serves me as to the fare.

Pork, Pone, Potatoes.

The pork was cold, pone ditto, potatoes also. Pone is unraisedcorn-cake baked in the ashes, and said to be good for indigestion. Itis a favorite cake in the South.

A saffron-hued young man, tall and lean, with a sharp nose and thinface, sat on the steps of the White Horse.

"Theager got hold of me yesterday and shook me right smart," hesaid. "It is a bad place for the ager. The people that used to livehere have all moved away. The land is run out. They haveterbakkeredit to death. We can't raise nothing, and it ain't no use to try." Hepointed to a deserted farm-house standing on a hill, and said,"There's a place the owner has left to grow up to weeds. He can't getnobody to carry it on."

(p. 036) A stately brick mansion, standing back from the highway oncethe residence of a man of wealth and taste, with blinds, portico, andcarriage-house, elaborate in design and finish, was in the last stagesof ruin. The portico had settled away from the house. The roof washollowed like a weak-backed horse, the chimneys were tumbling, blindsswinging by a hinge, windows smashed, outhouses tottering with age andneglect, all presenting a most repulsive appearance. How changed fromformer years, when the courteous, hospitable proprietor of the estatereceived his guests at the magnificent portico, ushered them to hisspacious halls, opened the sideboard and drank to their health, whileattendant slaves took the horses to the stables! It is easy to fill upthe picture,—the grand dinner, the walk over the estate, the strollby the river, the duck-shooting on the marshes, the gang of slaves inthe tobacco-patch, the army of black and yellow servants in thekitchens, chambers, and parlors. When this old house was in its glory,this section of Maryland was in its prime; but how great the change!

It was sad to think of the departed days. Our reflections were of whatthe place had been, what it was, and what it might have been, hadMaryland in the beginning of her history accepted Freedom instead ofSlavery.

Taverns are not frequent in the vicinity of Pomunkey, and it wasnecessary that we should seek private hospitality for the night. Afirst attempt for accommodations brought us to a house, but the ownerhad no oats, hay, or corn; a second ride in from the highway, broughtus to a whitewashed farm-house, with immense outside chimneys, piazza,adjoining mud-chinked negro-quarters, with chimneys of sticks andclay, and a dozen surrounding buildings,—as usual, all tumbling topieces. Explanations as to who we were secured kind hospitality fromthe host, a gray-headed man, with a family consisting of his wife,three grown-up sons, and nine adult daughters.

"Such as I have is at your service, gentlemen," said our host. But hehad no hay, no oats, no corn, nothing butshucks for our horses. Oursupper consisted of fried pork, fried salt shad, pone, wheat-cakes,pea-coffee, strawberry-leaf tea, sweetened with damp brown sugar!

(p. 037) "We don'traise butter in this section of the State," saidour host, in apology.

The supper was relished after an afternoon ride of thirty miles. Theevening being chilly, a roaring fire was kept up in the old-fashionedfireplace. The daughters put on their most attractive attire, and leftnothing untried to entertain their three visitors. Could we dance?Unfortunately we could not. It was a serious disappointment. Theyevidently had anticipated having "a good time." One of the ladiescould play a violin, and treated us to jigs, reels, and hornpipes.

"You must sing the gentlemen a song, Jane," said one.

Jane turned scarlet at the suggestion, but finally, after politerequests and a little urging, turned her back to the company, facedthe corner of the room, and sang a love-song. She could sing "Dixie,"but knew nothing of the "Star-Spangled Banner" or "Hail Columbia." Theyoung ladies were in sympathy with the Rebellion.

"It must be expected that Southern people should sympathize with theSouth," said our host.

"You own some slaves?" I said.

"I have threeservants, sir. I think," he added, "that the people ofEastern Maryland would be more favorable towards the Union if theycould be assured that the war would not finally become one ofemancipation. My neighbor over there had a servant who ran away intothe camp of one of the New York regiments. He went after him. TheColonel told the master to take him, but the servant wouldn't leavetill the Colonel drew his pistol and threatened to shoot him. Butnotwithstanding that, I reckon that the war will make them restless."It was spoken frankly and unreservedly.

It was pitiable to walk round his farm in the morning, to seeeverywhere the last stages of decay,—poor, worn-out lands,broken-down fences, weedy fields, pastures without a blade of grass,leafless orchards, old buildings,—everything a wreck; and yet to knowthat he was wedded to the very institution which was reducing thecountry to a wilderness. He was not an owner of the estate, but arentee. He paid one hundred and fifty dollars rental for three hundredacres of land, and yet confessed that he was growing poorer year byyear. Tobacco,(p. 038) corn, and oats were the only crops. He couldget no manure. He could make no hay. He kept two cows, but made nobutter. The land was being exhausted, and he did not know what heshould come to. All energy and life were gone; we saw only a familystruggling against fate, and yet clinging with a death-grapple to thesystem that was precipitating their ruin.

"Why do you not go to Illinois?"

"O, sir, I am too old to move. Besides, this is home."

We pictured the boundless resources of the West, the fertile lands,the opportunities for bettering his condition, but our words fell uponan inert mind. As a last argument, we said: "You have a large familyof daughters. In Illinois there are thousands of young men wantingwives, who will make good husbands. There are few young men here, butgood homes await your daughters there."

There were blushes, smiles, and sparkling eyes from the "sacred nine."My fellow-correspondent of the ChicagoTribune then drew a floridpicture of the West,—of the need of the State for such good-looking,virtuous ladies. His eloquence was persuasive. One of the daughterswanted to know how far it was to Illinois; but when informed that itwas a thousand miles, her countenance fell. Bliss so far away wasunattainable.

We passed a second night with our host, who, during our absence, sentone of the servants a dozen miles to obtain some butter, so courteousan entertainer was he. Yet he was struggling with poverty. He keptthree slaves to wait upon his nine grown-up unmarried daughters, whowere looking out upon a dark future. There was not a single gleam oflight before them. They could not work, or, at the best, their workwas of trifling account. What would become of them? That was the onequestion ever haunting the father.

"Why do you keep your slaves? they are a bill of cost to you everyyear," we said.

"I know it. They are lazy, shiftless, and they will steal,notwithstanding they have enough to eat and wear; but then I reckon Icouldn't get along without them very well. Sam is an excellent groom,and Joe is a good ploughman. He can do anything if he has a mind to;but he is lazy, like all the rest. I reckon that I couldn't get alongwithout him, though."

(p. 039) "Your sons can groom your horses and do your ploughing."

"Yes; but then they like to fish and hunt, you know; and you can'texpect them to do the work of the servants."

The secret was out. Slavery made labor dishonorable.

Conversing with another farmer about the negroes, he said: "They stealall they can lay their hands on; and since the Yankee troops have beenin camp round here, they are ten times as bad as they used to be. Mychickens are fast disappearing. The officers buy them, I reckon."

We thought it quite likely; for having passed several days in GeneralHooker's division, we could bear testimony to the excellent fare ofthe officers' mess,—chickens served in all the various forms known toculinary art. It was convenient for officers thus to supply themselveswith poultry. Of course the slave would say that he was the lawfulowner of the poultry. Why should he have any compunctions ofconscience about disposing of the chickens roosting on his master'sapple-trees, when his labor, his life, his happiness, hischildren,—all his rights were stolen from him by his master? If thesword cut in one direction, why not in another?

A few days later, in November, we visited Annapolis, a quaint oldcity. The streets all centre at the State-House and St. John's Church.There are antiquated houses with mossy roofs, brass knockers on thedoors, which were built two hundred years ago. We were carried back tothe time of the Revolution, when Annapolis was in its glory.

One would suppose, in walking past the substantial stone mansions,that the owners were living at ease, in quiet and seclusion; that theyhad notes, mortgages, and bonds laid by for a rainy day: but a fairoutside does not always indicate health within. In many of those oldmansions, grand in proportion, elaborate with cornice, there wasnothing but famine. How strong is aristocratic pride! Poverty cannotsubdue it. Men and women lived there sorely pressed to keep up even athreadbare appearance, who, before the war, held soul and bodytogether by raising negroes for the Southern market, and by waitingupon the Assembly when in session. They would have deemed it degradingto hold social intercourse with a mason or a blacksmith, or with anyone compelled to earn his(p. 040) bread by the sweat of his brow. Inpoverty they nursed their pride. The castes of Hindostan were hardlymore distinct. It is easy to see how a community can become lifelessunder such a state of society. The laboring men had gone away,—to theWest, to Baltimore, or to localities where it is not a crime to workfor a livelihood. In consequence, enterprise had died, property haddepreciated, and the entire place had become poverty-stricken.

On the succeeding Sunday I was in Washington, where a superintendentof one of the Sabbath schools was spending a portion of the hour insinging. Among other songs was Rev. S. F. Smith's national hymn,—

"My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty."

Among the persons present were three ladies, members of a familysympathizing with secession. With unmistakable signs of disgust, theyat once left the house!

Not only at church, but in the army, the spirit of slavery wasrampant. The Hutchinson family visited Washington. They solicitedpermission from the Secretary of War, Mr. Cameron, to visit the campsin Virginia and sing songs to the soldiers, to relieve the tediousmonotony of camp life. Their request was granted, and their intentionscordially commended by the Secretary; and, being thus indorsed,received General McClellan's pass. Their songs have ever been offreedom. They were welcomed by the soldiers. But there were officersin the service who believed in slavery, who had been taught inNorthern pulpits that it was a divinely appointed, beneficentinstitution of Almighty God. Information was given to GeneralMcClellan that the Hutchinsons were poisoning the minds of the troopsby singing Abolition songs; and their career as free concert givers tothe patriotic soldiers was suddenly ended by the following order fromhead-quarters:—

"By direction of Major-General McClellan, the permit given to the Hutchinson family to sing in the camps, and their pass to cross the Potomac, are revoked, and they will not be allowed to sing to the troops."

Far from the noise and strife of war, on the banks of the(p. 041)Merrimack, lived the poet of Peace and of Freedom, whose songs againstoppression and wrong have sunk deep into the hearts of the people.Whittier heard of the expulsion of the Hutchinsons, and as if inspiredby a spirit divine, wrote the

(p. 043) The expulsion of the Hutchinsons, with Whittier's ringingwords, stirred people's thoughts. A change was gradually taking placein men's opinions. The negroes were beginning to show themselvesuseful. A detachment of the Thirteenth Massachusetts, commanded byMajor Gould, was stationed on the upper Potomac. A negro slave,belonging in Winchester, came into the lines. He was intelligent,cautious, shrewd, and loyal. Major Gould did not return him to hismaster, but asked him if he would go back and ascertain thewhereabouts of Stonewall Jackson. The negro readily assented. He wassupplied with packages of medicine, needles, thread, and other lightarticles greatly needed in the South. With these he easily passed theRebel pickets: "Been out to get 'em for massa," was his answer whenquestioned by the Rebels. Thus he passed repeatedly into the Rebellines, obtaining information which was transmitted to Washington.

He had great influence with the slaves.

"They are becoming restless," said he, "but I tells 'em that they mustbe quiet. I says to 'em, keep yer eyes wide open and pray for de goodtime comin'. I tells 'em if de Souf whip, it is all night wid yer; butif de Norf whip, it is all day wid yer."

"Do they believe it?" Major Gould asked.

"Yes, massa, all believe it. The black men am all wid yer, only someof 'em isn't berry well informed; but dey is all wid yer. Massa tinksdey isn't wid yer, but dey is."

How sublime the picture!—a slave counselling his fellow bondmen tokeep quiet and wait till God should give them deliverance!

Among the many Rebel ministers who had done what they could toprecipitate the rebellion was a Presbyterian minister in the vicinityof Charlestown, Virginia. It was his custom, after closing his sermon,to invite the young men to enlist in the regiments then forming. Onone of these occasions he made an address in which he gave utteranceto the following sentiment: "If it is necessary to defend Southerninstitutions and Southern rights, I will wade up to my shoulders inblood!" This was brave; but the time came when the chivalry of theparson was put to the test.(p. 044) When the Rebels were routed atBolivar, he, not being mounted on so fleet a horse as those of hisflock who had given heed to his counsels and joined the cavalry, foundhimself left behind. A bullet lodged in the body of his horseprevented escape. He then tried his own legs, but soon found himselfin the hands of the soldiers, who brought him to head-quarters. He atonce claimed protection of Major Gould on the most extraordinarygrounds. He had read the poems of Hannah Gould, and presumed thatMajor Gould, hailing from Massachusetts, must be her kinsman. Whenconfronted with the Major he promptly exclaimed, "Major, I have readthe poems of Miss Hannah Gould, and admire them; presuming that she isa relative of yours, I claim your protection and consideration."

The Major replied that he had not the honor to be a relative of thatgifted lady, but that he should accord him all the consideration dueto those who had rebelled against the peace and dignity of the UnitedStates, and had been taken with arms in their hands. He was marchedoff with the others and placed under guard.

Slavery was strongly intrenched in the capital of the nation. Congresshad abolished it in the District of Columbia, but it still remained.

Said a friend to me one morning, "Are you aware that the Washingtonjail is full of slaves?" I could not believe that slaves were thenconfined there for no crime; but at once procured a pass from asenator to visit the jail, and was admitted through the iron gatewayof one of the vilest prisons in the world. The air was stifled, fetid,and malarious.

Ascending the stone stairway to the third story of the building,entering a dark corridor and passing along a few steps, I came to aroom twelve or fifteen feet square, occupied by about twenty coloredmen. They were at their dinner of boiled beef and corn-cake. There wasone old man sitting on the stone floor, silent and sorrowful. He hadcommitted no crime. Around, standing, sitting, or lying, were theothers, of all shades of color, from jet black to the Caucasian hue,the Anglo-Saxon hair and contour of features. They were from ten tofifty years of age; some were dressed decently, and others were inrags. One bright fellow of twenty had on a pair of trousers(p. 045)only, and tried to keep himself warm by drawing around him a tatteredblanket. A little fellow ten years old was all in rags. There was nochair or bed in the room. They must stand, or sit, or lie upon thebrick and granite floor. There was no mattress or bedding; each hadhis little bundle of rags, and that was all. They looked upinquiringly as I entered, as if to make out the object of my visit.

One bright, intelligent boy belonged to Captain Dunnington, captain ofthe Capitol police during Buchanan's administration, and thencommanding a Rebel battery. When Dunnington went from Washington tojoin the Rebels he left the boy behind, and the police had arrestedhim under an old Maryland law, because he had no master, and kept himin jail five months.

There was an old man from Fairfax Court-House. When the army advancedto Falls Church, his master sold his wife and child, for fear theymight escape. "You see, sir, that broke me all up. O, sir, it was hardto part with them, to see 'em chained up and taken off away down Southto Carolina. My mind is almost gone. I don't want to die here; Isha'n't live long. When your army fell back to Washington after thebattle of Bull Run, I came to Washington, and the police took me upbecause I was a runaway."

There was another, a free negro, imprisoned on the supposition that hewas a fugitive, and kept because there was no one to pay his jailfees. Another had been a hand on a Massachusetts schooner plying onthe Potomac, and had been arrested in the streets on the suspicionthat he was a slave.

Another had been employed on the fortifications, and government washis debtor. There was a little boy, ten years old, clothed in rags,arrested as a runaway. Women were there, sent in by their owners forsafe keeping. There were about sixty chargeable with no crimewhatever, incarcerated with felons, without hope of deliverance. Theywere imprisoned because negroes about town, without a master, alwayshad been dealt with in that manner. The police, when the slaves hadbeen reclaimed, had been sure of their pay, or if they were sold,their pay came from the auctioneer. When they saw me making notes,they imagined that I was doing something for their liberation, andwith eagerness they crowded round, saying,(p. 046) "Please put downmy name, sir," "I do want to get out, sir," and similar expressions.They followed me into the passage, gazed through the grated door, andwhen I said "Good by, boys," there came a chorus of "Good byes" and"God bless yous."

Seeking Senator Wilson's room, I informed him of what I had witnessed,and read the memoranda taken in the jail. The eyes of thattrue-hearted man flashed with righteous indignation. "We will seeabout this," said he, springing to his feet.

He visited the jail, saw the loathsome spectacle, heard the stories ofthe poor creatures, and the next day introduced a resolution into theSenate, which upset forever this system of tyranny, which had beenprotected by the national authority.

The year closed gloomily. There were more than six hundred thousandtroops under arms ready to subdue the Rebellion, but General McClellanhesitated to move. But there were indications of an early advance inthe West; therefore on the last days of December I left Washington tobe an observer of whatever might happen in Kentucky.

Ellsworth Zouave drill.

(p. 047) CHAPTER IV.
AFFAIRS IN THE WEST.

The church-bells of Louisville were ringing the new year in as withthe early morning we entered that city. There was little activity inthe streets. The breaking out of the war had stopped business. Thecity, with a better location than Cincinnati, has had a slow growth.Cassius M. Clay gave the reason, years ago.

"Why," he asked, "does Louisville write on an hundred of her stores'To let,' while Cincinnati advertises 'Wanted'? There is but oneanswer,—Slavery." Many of the houses were tenantless. The peoplelounged in the streets. Few had anything to do. Thousands of formerresidents were away, many with the Southern army, more with the Union.There was division of feeling. Lines were sharply drawn. A dozen loyalKentuckians had been killed in a skirmish on Green River; among themCaptain Bacon, a prominent citizen of Frankfort. His body was at theGalt House. Loyal Kentuckians were feeling these blows. Their temperwas rising; they were being educated by such adversity to make a trueestimate of Secession. Everything serves a purpose in this world. Ourvision is too limited to understand much of the governmentalprovidence of Him who notices the fall of a sparrow, and alikecontrols the destiny of nations; but I could see in the emphaticutterances of men upon the street, that revenge might make menpatriotic who otherwise might remain lukewarm in their loyalty.

A friend introduced a loyal Tennesseean, who was forced to flee fromNashville when the State seceded. The vigilance committee informed himthat he must leave or take the consequences; which meant, a suspensionby the neck from the nearest tree. He was offensive because of hisoutspoken loyalty. He was severe in his denunciations of thegovernment, on account of its slowness to put down the Rebellion.

(p. 048) "Sir," said he, "this government is not going to put down theRebellion, because it isn't in earnest. You of the North arewhite-livered. Excuse me for saying it. No; I won't ask to be excusedfor speaking the truth. You are afraid to touch the negro. You areafraid of Kentucky. The little province of the United States gets downon its knees to the nation of Kentucky. You are afraid that the Statewill go over to the Rebels, if anything is done about the negro. Now,sir, I know what slavery is; I have lived among it all my days. I knowwhat Secession is,—it means slavery. I know what Kentucky is,—aproud old State, which has a great deal that is good about her and agreat deal of sham. Kentucky politicians are no better or wiser thanany other politicians. The State is living on the capital of HenryClay. You think that the State is great because he was great. O, youNorthern men are a brave set! (It was spoken with bitter sarcasm.) Youhandle this Rebellion as gingerly as if it were a glass doll. Go on,go on; you will get whipped. Buell will get whipped at Bowling Green,Butler will get whipped at New Orleans. You got whipped at Big Bethel,Ball's Bluff, and Manassas. Why? Because the Rebels are in earnest,and you are not. Everything is at stake with them. They employniggers, you don't. They seize, rob, burn, destroy; they do everythingto strengthen their cause and weaken you, while you pick your way asdaintily as a dandy crossing a mud-puddle, afraid of offendingsomebody. No, sir, you are not going to put down this Rebellion tillyou hit it in the tenderest spot,—the negro. You must take away itsmain support before it will fall."

General Buell was in command of the department, with his head-quartersat the Galt House. He had a large army at Mumfordville and otherpoints. He issued his orders by telegraph, but he had no plan ofoperations. There were no indications of a movement. The Rebelsympathizers kept General Johnston, in command at Bowling Green, wellinformed as to Buell's inaction. There was daily communication betweenLouisville and the Rebel camp. There was constant illicit trade incontraband goods. The policy of General McClellan was also the policyof General Buell,—to sit still.

Events were more stirring in Missouri, and I proceeded to(p. 049)St. Louis, where General Halleck was in command,—a thick-set,dark-featured, black-haired man, sluggish, opinionated, andself-willed, arbitrary and cautious.

Soon after his appointment to this department he issued, on the 20thof November, his Order No. 3, which roused the indignation of earnestloyal men throughout the country. Thus read the document:—

"It has been represented that information respecting the numbers and condition of our forces is conveyed to the enemy by means of fugitive slaves who are admitted within our lines. In order to remedy this evil, it is directed that no such persons be hereafter permitted to enter the lines of any camp, or of any forces on the march, and that any within our lines be immediately excluded therefrom."

General Schofield was in command of Northern Missouri, under GeneralHalleck. The guerillas had burned nearly all the railroad bridges, andit was necessary to bring them to justice. The negroes along the linegave him the desired intelligence, and six of the leaders were in thisway caught, tried by court-martial, and summarily shot. Yet GeneralHalleck adhered to his infamous order. Diligent inquiries were made ofofficers in regard to the loyalty of the negroes, and no instance wasfound of their having given information to the enemy. In all of theslaveholding States a negro's testimony was of no account against awhite man under civil law; but General Schofield had, under militarylaw, inaugurated a new order of things,—a drum-head court, a speedysentence, a quick execution, on negro testimony. The Secessionists andRebel sympathizers were indignant, and called loudly for his removal.

The fine army which Fremont had commanded, and from which he had beensummarily dismissed because of his anti-slavery order, was at Rolla,at the terminus of the southwest branch of the Pacific Railroad. Thisroad, sixteen miles out from St. Louis, strikes the valley of theMaramec,—not the Merrimack, born of the White Hills, but a sluggishstream, tinged with blue and green, widening in graceful curves, withtall-trunked elms upon its banks, and acres of low lands, which areflooded in freshets. It is a pretty river, but not to be compared inbeauty to the stream which the muse of Whittier has(p. 050) madeclassic. Nearly all the residences in this section are Missourian inarchitectural proportions and features,—logs and clay, with themammoth outside chimneys, cow-yard and piggery, an oven out of doorson stilts, an old wagon, half a dozen horses, hens, dogs, pigs, infront, and lean, cadaverous men and women peeping from the doorways,with arms akimbo, and pipes between the teeth. This is the prevailingfeature,—this in a beautiful, fertile country, needing but the handof industry, the energy of a free people, vitalized by the highestcivilization, to make it one of the loveliest portions of the world.

At Franklin the southwestern branch of the Pacific Railroad divergesfrom the main stem. It is a new place, brought into existence by therailroad, and consists of a lime-kiln, a steam saw-mill, and a dozenhouses. Behind the town is a picturesque bluff, with the lime-kiln atits base, which might be taken for a ruined temple of some old Azteccity. Near at hand two Iowa regiments were encamped. A squad ofsoldiers was on the plain, and a crowd stood upon the depot platform,anxiously inquiring for the morning papers. It was a supply station,provisions being sent up both lines. Two heavy freight trains,destined for Rolla, were upon the southwestern branch. To one of thempassenger cars were attached, to which we were transferred.

When the branch was opened for travel in 1859, the directors run onetrain a day,—a mixed train of passenger and freight cars,—and duringthe first week their patronage in freight was immense,—it consistedof a bear and a pot of honey! On the passage the bear ate the honey,and the owner of the honey brought a bill against the company fordamages.

Beyond Franklin the road crosses the Maramec, enters a forest, windsamong the hills, and finally by easy grades reaches a crest of land,from which, looking to the right or the left, you can see miles awayover an unbroken forest of oak. Far to the east is the elevated ridgeof land which ends in the Pilot Knob, toward the Mississippi, andbecomes the Ozark Mountain range toward the Arkansas line. We lookedover the broad panorama to see villages, church-spires, whitecottages, or the blue curling smoke indicative of a town or humanresidence, but the(p. 051) expanse was primitive and unbroken. Not asign of life could be discovered for many miles as we slowly creptalong the line. The country is undulating, with the limestone stratacropping out on the hillsides. In the railroad cuttings the rock,which at the surface is gray, takes a yellow and reddish tinge, fromthe admixture of ochre in the soil. In one cutting we recognized thelead-bearing rocks, which abound through the southwestern section ofthe State.

We looked in vain to discover a school-house. A gentleman who was wellacquainted with this portion of the State, said that he knew of onlytwo school-houses,—one in Warsaw and the other in Springfield. In aride of one hundred and thirteen miles we saw but two churches. AsAunt Ophelia found "Topsy" virgin soil, so will those who undertake toreconstruct the South find these wilds of Southwestern Missouri. Andthey are a fair specimen of the South.

It was evening when we reached Rolla. When we stepped from the car inthe darkness, there was a feeling that the place was a mortar-bed andthe inhabitants were preparing to make bricks. Our boots became heavy,and, like a man who takes responsibility, when we once planted ourfeet the tendency was for them to stay there. Guided by anacquaintance who knew the way, the hotel was reached. In the distancethe weird camp-fires illumined the low-hanging clouds. From right andleft there came the roll of drums and the bugle-call. A group of mensat around the stove in the bar. The landlord escorted us to thewash-room,—a spacious, high-arched apartment, as wide as the east isfrom the west, as long as the north is from the south, as high-postedas the zenith, where we found a pail of water, a tin basin, and atowel, for all hands; and which all hands had used. After ablutioncame supper in the dining-hall, with bare beams overhead. Dinah waitedupon us,—coal-black, tall, stately, worth a thousand dollars beforethe war broke out, but somewhat less just then, and Phillis, with amob-cap on her head, bleached a little in complexion by Anglo-Saxon orMissourian blood.

We soon discovered that nothing was to be done by the army in thisdirection. The same story was current here as on the Potomac and inKentucky,—"Not ready." General Sigel had(p. 052) sent in hisresignation, disgusted with General Halleck. General Curtis had justarrived to take command. The troops were sore over the removal ofFremont: they idolized him. Among the forty thousand men in thevicinity were those who had fought at Wilson's Creek. The linesbetween Rebellion and Loyalty were more sharply drawn here than in anyother section of the country. Men acted openly. The army was radicalin its sentiments, believing in Fremont's order for the liberation ofthe slaves, which the President had set aside.

There was one other point which gave better promise of activeoperations,—Cairo. Therefore bidding adieu to Rolla, we returned toSt. Louis and took the cars for Cairo.

It was an all-night ride, with a mixed company of soldiers andcivilians. There were many ladies on their way to visit their husbandsand brothers before the opening of the campaign. One woman had threechildren. "Their father wants to see them once more before he goesinto battle," said the mother, sadly.

At last we found a place where men seemed to be in earnest. Cairo wasalive. At the levee were numerous steamboats. Soldiers were arriving.There was a constant hammering and pounding on the gunboats, whichwere moored along the shore.

The mud cannot be put into the picture. There was thick mud, thin mud,sticky mud, slushy mud, slimy mud, deceptive mud, impassable mud,which appeared to the sight, to say nothing of the peculiarities thatare understood by the nose; for within forty feet of our window were ahorse-stable and pig-yard, where slops from the houses and washes fromthe sinks were trodden with the manure from the stables. Bunyan'sSlough of Despond, into which all the filth and slime of this worldsettled, was nothing beside the slough of Cairo. There were sheds,shanties, stables, pig-stys, wood-piles, carts, barrels, boxes,—thedébris of everything thrown over the area. Of animate things,water-carts,—two-horse teams, which were supplying the inhabitantswith drinking water from the river. There were truckmen stuck in themud. There were two pigs in irrepressible conflict; also two dogs.Twenty feet distant, soldiers in their blue coats, officers withswords, sash and belt, ladies, and citizens, were picking their way(p. 053) along the sticky sidewalks. This was Cairo. Delectable Cairo!

The prominent names before the country at that period, as commanderswho were to lead our armies to victory, were McClellan, Buell, T. W.Sherman, then at Port Royal, Fremont, Rosecrans, Burnside, Butler, andBanks. William Tecumseh Sherman was reputed to be flighty in the head.He had commanded the Department of the Ohio, but Buell had succeededhim. He was now a brigade commander at Paducah, under General C. F.Smith. There were several brigadiers at Cairo. General McClernand, whohad been a member of Congress, a strong partisan of Senator Douglas,was most conspicuous. General Prentiss, who was ready to make a speechon any and every occasion, was also well known. The commander of thepost was an obscure man. His name was Grant. At the beginning of thewar he was in the leather business at Galena. He had been educated atWest Point, where he stood well as a mathematician, but had left theservice, and had become a hard-working citizen. He was Colonel of theTwenty-first Illinois, and had been made a brigadier by the President.He was in charge of the expedition to Belmont, which, thoughsuccessful in the beginning, had ended almost in disaster. Havingcredentials from the Secretary of War, I entered the head-quarters ofthe commanding officer, and found a man of medium stature, thick set,with blue eyes, and brown beard closely cropped, sitting at a desk. Hewas smoking a meerschaum. He wore a plain blue blouse, without anyinsignia of rank. His appearance was clerkly. General McClellan, inWashington, commanded in state, surrounded by brilliant staffs, men infine broadcloth, gold braid, plumed hats, and wearing clanking sabres.Orderlies and couriers were usually numerous at head-quarters.

"Is General Grant in?" was the question directed to the clerk in thecorner.

"Yes, sir," said the man, removing his meerschaum from his mouth, andspitting with unerring accuracy into a spittoon by his side.

"Will you be kind enough to give this letter to him."

But the clerk, instead of carrying it into an adjoining room,(p. 054) to present it to the commander-in-chief, opened it, ran hiseye rapidly over the contents, and said, "I am happy to make youracquaintance, sir. Colonel Webster will give you a pass."

Such was my first interview with General Grant. I have seen him manytimes since,—in the hour of victory, at Donelson; in the shadow ofthe cloud, after Pittsburg Landing; during the fearful days of theWilderness; in the last great hours of triumph, with Lee and his armyparoled prisoners of war; and there has ever been the same quiet,gentlemanly deportment.

The large hall of the St. Charles Hotel was the general resort ofofficers, soldiers, guests, and citizens. I was conversing with afriend the same afternoon when a short, muscular, quick-walking man,in the prime of life, wearing a navy uniform, entered. His countenancewould attract attention even in a crowd, it was so mild, peaceful, andpleasant. My friend introduced him as Commander Foote.

"I shall be pleased to see you at my office, which is on thewharf-boat. I usually take a little recreation after dinner," said he.

Calling upon him the next day, I found him at leisure, havingdespatched the business of the forenoon. There was a Bible on histable and a hymn-book, and in one corner of the office a large packageof books, just received from the Sunday-School Union, directed to"Captain A. H. Foote, U. S. N."

Noticing my eyes turned in that direction, he said: "They are for thesailors; I want to do what I can for the poor fellows. They haven'tany chaplain; I read the service on Sunday and visit the crews, andtalk to them; but it is very little religious instruction which theyreceive. I don't allow any work, except what is absolutely necessary,on Sunday. I believe man and beast need rest one day in seven. I amtrying to persuade the men to leave off their grog rations, with afair chance of success."

General Grant.

He was at leisure, and talked freely of matters relating to theorganization of the fleet. He had to contend with great difficulties.The department had rendered him but little service. He had done hisbest to obtain mortars; had despatched officers to Pittsburg, wherethey were cast, but they were all sent East(p. 055) for the NewOrleans fleet. He regretted it exceedingly, for with good ordnance hethought it would not be a difficult matter to reach New Orleans,though, as he modestly remarked, quoting the Scriptural proverb, "Itbecomes not him who putteth on the harness to boast." He was lackingmen. Recruiting officers had been sent to Chicago, Cleveland, Buffalo,and other lake ports, but they had signally failed, because thedepartment did not pay any advance to those in the river service,while on the seaboard advances were made. He had not men enough to manhis gunboats.

General Sherman.

The department had furnished him with but few new guns. He had beenobliged to take those which were at Sackett's Harbor,—old guns farinferior to those with which Commodore Du Pont knocked Tybee andHilton Head to pieces. He had to get gun-carriages manufactured inCincinnati, other things at St. Louis, others at Pittsburg; butnotwithstanding this, had organized a fleet which would throw atremendous weight of metal. He was not ready to move, yet would move,whether ready or not, whenever the word was given. He believed infighting at close quarters.

He spoke freely of the faults of the gunboats. They were too low inthe water and the engines of too limited capacity. They would not beable to make much headway against the stream. He considered them anexperiment, and, like all experiments, they were of course defective.

He was a close student, devoted to his profession, and bore the marksof severe thought in the wrinkles which were deepening on his brow.Time had begun to silver his hair and whiskers, but he walked with afirm step. He had rare conversational powers, and imparted informationas if it were a pleasure. He was thoroughly conscientious, and had adeep sense of his responsibility. He was aware that his own reputationand standing as well as the interests of the public were at stake. Hewas greatly beloved by his men.

Two of the gunboats—the Essex and Louisville—were lying six or eightmiles below Cairo, guarding the river. The Essex! How often in boyhoodhad I thrilled at the story of her brave fight with the Cherub andPhebe in the harbor of Valparaiso! How often I wished that CaptainPorter could(p. 056) have had a fair chance in that terriblefight,—one of the fiercest ones fought on the sea. But there wasanother Essex commanded by another Captain Porter, son of him whorefused to surrender his ship till he had lost all power to defendher.

The new craft was wholly unlike the old. That was a fast sailer, trim,and taut, and graceful as a swan upon the waters; this a black box,once a St. Louis ferry-boat. The sailors who had breathed the salt airof the sea, who had swung in mid-heaven upon the swaying masts, whohad rode in glee upon the storm-tost billows,

"Whose home was on the deep."

regarded the new Essex in disgust, and rechristened her theMudTurtle. But her name, and the glorious record of her deeds, will notfade from remembrance. Coming generations shall read of her exploitswith pride and pleasure. We were courteously received by hercommander, Captain Wm. D. Porter, a solid man, but little more thanfive feet high, yet broad-chested, quick and energetic in hismovements. He had a long, thick, black beard, and twinkling eyes fullof fire. He had the rolling gait of a sailor, and was constantlypacing the deck. He was a rapid talker, and had a great store ofadventure and anecdote. We alluded to the part taken by his father inthe war of 1812, and the gallant fight against great odds inValparaiso harbor. The eyes of the son kindled instantly.

"Yes, sir; that was a plucky fight. The old gentleman never would havegiven in if there had been the least ray of hope; but there was none.And he was too tender-hearted to needlessly slaughter his men."

Three days previous to our visit to the Essex, two Rebel boats came upfrom Columbus to see what the Yankees were doing. In five minutesPorter had his anchor up and steam on, pushing down to meet themhalf-way; but they declined the courtesy, and steamed back toColumbus.

"I followed them as fast as I could," said he, as we paced the deck."I let them have my ten-inch Dahlgren and my two rifled forty-twopounders one after another, and drove them till their batteries on thebluff above the town opened on me. Then I wrote an invitation toMontgomery, who commands their fleet, to meet me any day and I wouldlick him(p. 057) like thunder. I fastened it to a cork and set itadrift, and saw a boat go out and pick it up. Then I elevated myten-inch and let them have a shell right into the town. I reckon itwaked them up some."

He laughed and chuckled, rubbed his hands, took a fresh quid oftobacco, and began to talk again of his father's exploits on thePacific.

The Rebels under Major-General Bishop Polk were in force at Columbus.There was also a detachment at Mayfield, east of Columbus. A suddenmovement was made by General Grant in the direction of Mayfield, notwith any design of an attack, but to deceive the Rebels in regard tothe real intentions. The troops landed at old Fort Jefferson, sixmiles below Cairo, on the Kentucky side. It was a mild day inmidwinter. The soldiers marched without baggage. Not one in ten hadgloves or mittens; and on the second night of the reconnoissance thecold became intense, and there was great suffering.

The soldiers kindled huge fires, and by running and walking, andconstant thrashing of the hands, passed the long, weary night. Therewere numerous herds of swine in the woods, and fresh pork wasabundant. There was roasting, frying, and broiling by every bivouacfire, and a savory fragrance of sparerib and steak.

The dwellings of the farmers in this section of Kentucky are of theSouthern style of architecture,—log-houses containing two rooms, withchimneys built against the ends. Entering one to obtain a drink ofwater we found two tall, cadaverous young men, both of them shakingwith ague. There was a large old-fashioned fireplace, with a greatroaring fire, before which they were sitting with the door wide openat their backs, and the cold air rushing upon them in torrents.Probably it did not occur to either of them that it would be better toshut the door.

A Connecticut wooden clock ticked on a rude shelf, a bed stood in onecorner. The walls were hung with old clothes and dried herbs,—catnipand tansy and thoroughwort. The clay had dropped out in many places,and we could look through the chinks and see the landscape without.The(p. 058) foundations of the chimney had settled, and the structurewas leaning away from the house. There were great cracks between thebrickwork and the wood.

They claimed to be good Union men, but said that all the rest of thepeople round them were disloyal.

"We are having a hard time," said one. "The Secessionists were goingto jump us,—to take our property because we were for the Union, andnow your army has come and killed nigh about seventy-five hogs for us,I reckon. It is kinder hard, stranger, to be used so."

"But, my friend, if it had not been for the Union troops wouldn't youhave lost everything, if you are a Union man?"

"Yes,—perhaps so," was the long-drawn answer, given with hesitation.

"There is a right smart heap of Southerners at Columbus, I reckon,"said he. "There is Sam Wickliff and Josh Turner, and almost all theboys from this yere place, and they'll fight, I reckon, stranger."

We then learned that the officers of McClernand's division, havingbeen deprived of the enjoyments of home-life, and finding themselvesamong the belles of Western Kentucky, had made the most of theopportunity by dancing all night.

"The gals danced themselves clean out, that is the reason they ain'tabout," said one of the young men, apologizing for the absence of hissisters, and added, "They is rather afraid of the Lincolnites." Theutterance of the last sentence contradicted all previous assertions ofloyalty and hearty love for the Union.

The troops made sad havoc among the stock, shooting pigs and sheep forfun. After scouring the country well towards Columbus, havingaccomplished the object of the expedition,—that of deceiving theRebels in regard to the movement contemplated up the Tennessee,—theforce returned to Cairo.

(p. 059) CHAPTER V.
CENTRAL KENTUCKY.

The tide of success during the year 1861 was almost wholly in favor ofthe Rebels; but at length there came a change, in the defeat ofZollicoffer by General Thomas at Mill Springs, on the 19th of January.I hastened to the centre of the State to watch operations which hadsuddenly become active in that quarter.

It was on the last day of January that the zealous porter of theSpencer House, in Cincinnati, awoke me with a thundering rap at fiveo'clock, shouting, "Cars for Lexington." It was still dark when theomnibus whirled away from the house. There were six or eightpassengers, all strangers, but conversation was at once started by atall, stout, red-faced, broad-shouldered man, wearing a gray overcoatand a broad brimmed, slouched hat, speaking the Kentucky vernacular.

It is very easy to become acquainted with a genuine Kentuckian. Helaunches at once into conversation. He loves to talk, and takes it forgranted that you like to listen. The gentleman who now took the leadsat in the corner of the omnibus, talking not only to his nextneighbor, but to everybody present. The words poured from his lipslike water from a wide-mouthed gutter during a June shower. In fiveminutes we had his history,—born in "Old Kentuck," knew all the folksin Old Bourbon, had been a mule-driver, supplied Old Virginia withmore mules than she could shake a stick at, had got tired of "OldKentuck," moved up into Indiana, was going down to see the folks,—allof this before we had reached the ferry; and before arriving at theCovington shore we had his opinion of the war, of political economy,the Constitution, and the negroes.

It was remarkable that, let any subject be introduced, even(p. 060)though it might be most remotely related to the war, the talkers wouldquickly reach the negro question. Just as in theological discussionsthe tendency is toward original sin, so upon the war,—the discussioninvariably went beyond the marshalling of armies to the negro as thecause of the war.

The gentleman in gray had not learned the sounds of the letters asgiven by the lexicographers of the English language, but adhered tothe Kentucky dialect, giving "har" for hair, "thar" for there, withpeculiar terminations.

"Yer see, I us-ed to live in Old Kaintuck, down thar beyond Paris.Wal, I moved up beyond Indianopolis, bought a mighty nice farm. Iknow'd all the folks down round Paris. Thar's old Speers, who got shotdown to Mill Springs,—he was a game un; a white-haired old cuss whojined the Confederates. I know'd him. I 'tended his nigger salesev'ral years ago, when he busted. He war a good old man, blame me ifhe want. He war crazy that ar day of the sale, and war down on thenigger-traders. He lost thousands of dollars that ar day, cause hehated 'em and run down his niggers,—said they wan't good when theywar, just ter keep 'em out of the hands of the cussed traders.

"Wal, thar's Jim,—I remember him. He's in Confed'rate army, too. Ilost a bet of tew hundred dollars with him on Letcher's'lection,—that old drunken cuss who's disgracing Old Virginia; blowme if I didn't. That was hard on me, cause on 'lection day arter I'dvoted, I started with a drove of muels, four hundred on 'em nighabout, for Virginia. I felt mighty sick, I tell you, 'cause I hademployed a drunken cuss to buy 'em for me, and he paid more than theywar wuth. Wal, I know'd I would lose, and I did,—ten hundred dollars.Cusses, yer know, allers comes in flocks. Wal, only ges think of it,that ar drunken cuss is a kurnel in the Federal army. Blow me ef Ithink it's right. Men that drink too much ar'n't fit to have controlof soldiers.

"Wal, I am a Kentuckian. I've got lots of good friends in the Southernarmy, and lots in the Union army. My idee is that government ought toconfiscate the property of the Rebels, and when the war is over giveit back to their wives and children. It's mighty hard to take awayeverything from 'em,—blow(p. 061) me if it a'n't. The Abolitionistswant to confiscate the niggers. Wal, I know all about the niggers.They are a lazy, stealing set of cusses, the hull lot of 'em. What canwe do with 'em? That's what I want to know. Now my wife, she wantsniggers, but I don't. If Kentucky wants 'em, let her have 'em. It's myopinion that Kentucky is better off with 'em, 'cause she has got usedto 'em.

"The people are talking about starving the Confederates, but I've beenthrough the South, and it can't be done. They can raise everythingthat we can, and it's my candid opinion that government is gwine toget licked."

The arrival of the omnibus at the depot put an end to the talk.

The Licking Valley, through which the railroad to Lexington runs, isvery beautiful. There are broad intervales fringed with hickory andelm, wood-crowned hills, warm, sunny vales and charming landscapes.Nature has done much to make it a paradise; art very little. Thefarm-houses are in the Kentucky style,—piazzas, great chimneysoutside, negro cabins,—presenting at one view and in close contrastthe extremes of wealth and poverty, power and weakness, civilizationand barbarism, freedom and slavery.

The city of Lexington is a place of the past. Before railroads wereprojected, when Henry Clay was in the prime of manhood there, it was aplace of enterprise and activity. The streets were alive with men. Itwas the great political and social centre of Central Kentucky. Thecity flourished in those days, but its glory has passed away. Thegreat commoner on whose lips thousands hung in breathless admiration,the circumstances of his time, the men of his generation, havedeparted never to return. Life has swept on to other centres. In thesuburbs were beautiful residences. Riches were displayed in lavishexpenditure, but the town itself was wearing a seedy look. There wasold rubbish everywhere about the city; there were buildings with crazyblinds, cracked walls, and leaning earthward; while even a beautifulchurch edifice had broken panes in its windows. The troubles of theyear, like care and anxiety to a strong man, ploughing deep furrowson his face, had closed many stores, and(p. 062) written "To Rent" onmany dwellings. A sudden paralysis had fallen, business had drooped,and society had lost its life.

The Phenix was the ancient aristocratic hotel of the place. It was inappearance all of the old time,—a three-story, stone, brick, andplaster building, with small windows, and a great bar-room or office,which in former days was the resort of politicians, men of the turf,and attendants at court. A crowd of unwashed men were in the hall,spattered with mud, wearing slouched hats, unshaven and unshorn,—amotley crew; some tilted against the walls in chairs, fast asleep,some talking in low tones and filling the room with fumes of tobacco.A half-dozen were greasing their boots. The proprietor apologized fortheir presence, remarking that they were teamsters who had justarrived from Somerset, and were soon to go back with supplies forGeneral Thomas's army. There were three hundred of them, rough,uncouth, dirty, but well behaved. There was no loud talking, noprofanity, indecency, or rudeness, but a deportment through the dayand night worthy of all commendation.

While enjoying the fire in the reception-room two ladies entered,—onemiddle-aged, medium stature, having an oval face, dark hair, darkhazel eyes; the other a young lady of nineteen or twenty years, sharpfeatures, black hair, and flashing black eyes. They were boarders atthe hotel, were well dressed, though not with remarkable taste, butevidently were accustomed to move in the best circle of Lexingtonsociety. A regiment was passing the hotel.

"There are some more Yankees going down to Mill Springs, I reckon,"said the elder.

"O, isn't it too bad that Zollicoffer is killed? I could have cried myeyes out when I heard of it," said the youngest. "O he was so brave,and noble, and chivalrous!"

"He was a noble man," the other replied.

"O, I should so like to see a battle!" said the youngest.

"It might not be a pleasant sight, although we are often willing toforego pleasure for the sake of gratifying curiosity," we replied.

"I should want my side to whip," said the girl.

Hauling cotton.

(p. 063) "Yes. We all expect our side to be victorious, though we aresometimes disappointed, as was the case at Bull Run."

"Then you were at Bull Run? I take it that you belong to the army?"

"I was there and saw the fight, although I was not connected with thearmy."

"I am glad you were defeated. It was a good lesson to you. TheNortherners have had some respect for the Southerners since then. TheSoutherners fought against great odds."

"Indeed, I think it was the reverse."

"No indeed, sir. The Federals numbered over sixty thousand, whileBeauregard had less than thirty thousand. He did not have more thantwelve thousand in the fight."

"I can assure you it is a grave mistake. General McDowell had lessthan thirty thousand men, and not more than half were engaged."

"Well, I wonder what he was thinking of when he carried out thoseforty thousand handcuffs?"

"I did not suppose any one gave credence to that absurd story."

"Absurd? Indeed, sir, it is not. I have seen some of the handcuffs.There are several pairs of them in this city. They were broughtdirectly from the field by some of our citizens who went on as soon asthey heard of the fight. I have several trophies of the fight whichour men picked up."

No doubt the young lady was sincere. It was universally believedthroughout the South that McDowell had thousands of pairs of handcuffsin his train, which were to be clapped upon the wrists of the Southernsoldiers.

"We have some terrible uncompromising Union men in this State," saidthe eldest, "who would rather see every negro swept into the Gulf ofMexico, and the whole country sunk, than give up the Union. We havemore Abolitionists here in this city than they have in Boston."

It was spoken bitterly. She did not mean that the Union men of theState were committed to immediate emancipation, but that they wouldaccept emancipation rather than have the Secessionists succeed.

A gentleman came in, sat down by the fire, warmed his(p. 064) hands,and joined in the conversation. Said he: "I am a Southerner. I havelived all my life among slaves. I own one slave, but I hate thesystem. There are counties in this State where there are but fewslaves, and in all such counties you will find a great manyAbolitionists. It is the brutalizing influence of slavery that makesme hate it,—brutalizing to whites and blacks alike. I hate thiskeeping niggers to raise human stock,—to sell, just as you do horsesand sheep."

In all places the theme of conversation was the war and the negroes.The ultra pro-slavery element was thoroughly secession, and theUnionists were beginning to understand that slavery was at the bottomof the rebellion. As in the dim light of the morning we already beholdthe approach of the full day, so they saw that these which seemed theevents of an hour might broaden into that which would overthrow theentire slave system.

Anthony Trollope, an English traveller and novelist, was stopping atthe hotel at the time,—a pleasant gentleman, thoroughly English inhis personal appearance, with a plump face, indicative of good livingand good cheer. In his work entitled "North America" he mentions theteamsters in the hall, and draws a contrast between English andAmerican society. He says:—

"While I was at supper the seventy-five teamsters were summoned into the common eating-room by a loud gong, and sat down to their meal at the public table. They were very dirty; I doubt whether I ever saw dirtier men; but they were orderly and well-behaved, and but for their extreme dirt might have passed as the ordinary occupants of a well-filled hotel in the West. Such men in the States are less clumsy with their knives and forks, less astray in an unused position, more intelligent in adapting themselves to a new life, than are Englishmen of the same rank. It is always the same story. With us there is no level of society. Men stand on a long staircase, but the crowd congregates near the bottom, and the lower steps are very broad. In America, men stand on a common platform, but the platform is raised above the ground, though it does not approach in height the top of our staircase. If we take the average altitude in the two countries, we shall find that the American heads are the more elevated of the two. I conceived rather an affection for those dirty teamsters; they answered(p. 065) me civilly when I spoke to them, and sat in quietness smoking their pipes, with a dull and dirty but orderly demeanor."[4]

If Mr. Trollope, who has a very just appreciation of the character ofthose quiet and orderly teamsters, will but wait a century or two,perhaps he will find that democracy can build a staircase as high andcomplete as that reared by the aristocracy of England. We have had buttwo centuries for the construction of our elevated common platform,while England has had a thousand years. There the base of thestaircase, where the multitude stand, is either stationary or sinking;but here the platform is always rising, and bearing the multitude to ahigher plane.

A short distance north of the city of the living is the city of thedead. It is a pleasant suburb,—one which is adding week by week toits population. It is laid out in beautiful avenues, grass bordered,and shaded by grand old forest-trees. It is the resting-place of thedust of Henry Clay. The monument to his memory is not yet finished. Itis a tall, round column upon a broad base, with a capital, such as theGreeks never saw or dreamed of, surmounted by a figure intended torepresent the great statesman as he stood when enchaining vastaudiences by his matchless oratory. Within the chamber, exposed toview through the iron-latticed door, star-embellished and bronzed,lies the sarcophagus of purest marble. It is chaste in design,ornamented with gathered rods and bonds emblematic of union, andwreathed with cypress around its sides. The pure white marble draperyis thrown partly back, exposing above the breast of the sleeper awreath, and

HENRY CLAY.

Upon the slab beneath the sarcophagus is this simple inscription:—

"I can, with unbroken confidence, appeal to the Divine Arbiter for the truth of the declaration, that I have been influenced by no impure purpose, no personal motive,—have sought no personal aggrandizement, but that in all my public acts I have had a sole and single eye, and a warm devoted heart,(p. 066) directed and dedicated to what in my best judgment I believed to be the true interests of my country."

It is not a declaration which goes home to the heart as that simplerecognition of the Christian religion which his compeer, DanielWebster, directed should be placed above his grave in the secludedchurchyard at Marshfield, but Mr. Clay was a remarkable man. Of allAmericans who have lived, he could hold completest sway of popularassemblies. Hating slavery in his early life, he at last becametolerant of its existence. He cast the whole trouble of the nationupon the Abolitionists. In some things he was far-sighted; in others,obtuse. In 1843 he addressed a letter to a friend who was about towrite a pamphlet against the Abolitionists, giving him an outline ofthe argument to be used. Thus he wrote:—

This was written by a reputed statesman, who was supposed tounderstand the principles of political economy. The slaves being madefree would enter in competition with thefree laborer. But has notthe free American laborer been forced to compete through all the yearsof the past with unrequited slave labor? Without inquiring into theaims and purposes of the Abolitionists,—what they intended to do,and how they(p. 067) were to do it,—Mr. Clay accepted the currenttalk of the day, and shaped his course accordingly. That letter willread strangely fifty years hence. It reads strangely now, and goes farto lower our estimate of the real greatness of one who for half acentury was the idol of a great political party,—whose words weretaken as the utterances of an oracle. But ideas and principles haveadvanced since 1843. We stand upon a higher plane, and are moving onto one still higher.

Returning to the hotel, I fell into conversation with a Presbyterianminister, who began to deplore the war.

"We should conduct it," said he, "not as savages or barbarians, but asChristians, as civilized beings, on human principles."

"In what way would you have our generals act to carry out what youconceive to be such principles?"

"Well, sir, the blockade is terribly severe on our friends in theSouth, who are our brothers. The innocent are suffering with theguilty. We should let them have food, and raiment, and medicines, butwe should not let them have cannon, guns, and powder."

"When do you think the war would end if such a plan was adopted?"

He took a new tack, not replying to the question, but said,—

"The North began the trouble in an unchristian spirit."

"Was not the first gun fired by the Rebels upon Fort Sumter?"

"That was not the beginning of the war. It was the election ofLincoln."

"Then you would not have a majority of the people elect their officersin the constituted way?"

"Well, if Lincoln had been a wise man he would have resigned, andsaved this terrible conflict."

There is a point beyond which forbearance ceases to be a virtue, and Iexpressed the hope that the war would be waged with shot and shell,fire and sword, naval expeditions and blockades, and every possiblemeans, upon the men who had conspired to subvert the government. Therewas no reply, and he soon left the room.

Buell's right wing under General Crittenden, was at Calhoun,(p. 068)on Green River. Intelligence arrived that it was to be put in motion.

Leaving Lexington in the morning, and passing by cars throughFrankfort,—an old town, the capital of the State, like Lexington,seedy and dilapidated,—we reached Louisville in season to take ourchoice of the two steamers, Gray Eagle and Eugene, to Henderson. Theywere both excellent boats, running in opposition, carrying passengersone hundred and eighty miles, providing for them two excellent mealsand a night's lodging, all for fifty cents! People were patronizingboth boats, because it was much cheaper than staying at home.

Taking the Gray Eagle,—a large side-wheel steamer,—we swept alongwith the speed of a railroad train. The water was very high andrising. The passengers were almost all from Kentucky. Some of theladies thronging the saloon were accustomed to move in the "bestsociety," which had not literary culture and moral worth for itsstandards, but broad acres, wealth in lands and distilleries. Theywere "raised" in Lexington or Louisville or Frankfort. They spoke ofthe "right smart" crowd on board, nearly "tew" hundred, according totheiridea.

But there is another class of Kentuckians as distinct from theseexcellent ladies as chalk from cheese. They are of that class to whichDavid Crocket belonged in his early years,—born in a cane-brake andcradled in a trough. There were two in the saloon, seated upon anottoman,—a brother and sister. The brother was more than six feettall, had a sharp, thin, lank countenance, with a tuft of hair on hischin and on his upper lip. His face was of the color of milk andmolasses. He wore a Kentucky homespun suit,—coat, vest and pants ofthe same material, and colored with butternut bark. He had on,although in the saloon, a broad-brimmed, slouched hat, with anornament of blotched mud. He was evidently more at home with his haton than to sit bareheaded,—and so consulted his own pleasure, withoutmistrusting that there was such a thing as politeness in the world. Hehad been plashing through the streets of Louisville. He had scrapedoff the thickest of the mud. There he sat, the right foot thrownacross the left knee, with as much(p. 069) complacency as it ispossible for a mortal to manifest. In his own estimation he was allright, although there was a gap between his pants and vest of aboutsix inches,—a yellowish tawny streak of shirt. He sat in unconcernedsilence, or stalked through the saloon with his hands in his pockets,or stretched himself at full length upon the sofa and took acomfortable snooze.

His sister,—a girl of eighteen,—had an oval face, arched eyebrows,and full cheeks, flowing, flaxen hair, and gray eyes. She wore a plaindress of gray homespun without hoops, and when standing, appeared asif she had encased herself in a meal-bag. There was no neat whitecollar or bit of ribbon, or cord, or tassel,—no attempt at feminineadornment. She was a "nut-brown maid,"—bronzed by exposure, with acountenance as inexpressive as a piece of putty. A dozen ladies andgentlemen who came on board at a little town twenty miles belowLouisville were enjoying themselves, in a circle of their own, withthe play of "Consequences." The cabin rang with their merry laughter,and we who looked on enjoyed their happiness; but there was no sign ofanimation in her countenance,—a block of wood could not have beenmore unsympathetic.

Among the ladies on board was one a resident of Owensboro', who, uponher marriage eight years before, had moved from the town of Auburn,New York, the home of Mr. Seward.

"I was an Abolitionist," she said, "before I left home, but now that Iknow what slavery is, I like it. The slaveholders are so independentand live so easy! They can get rich in a few years; and there is noclass in the world who can enjoy so much of life as they."

It was evidently a sincere expression of her sentiments.

She was for the Union, but wanted slavery let alone. The strife inOwensboro' had been exceedingly bitter. Nearly all her old friends andneighbors were rampant Secessionists. Secession, like a sharp sword,had cut through society and left it in two parts, as irreconcilable asvice and virtue. There was uncompromising hostility ready to flame outinto war at any moment in all the Kentucky towns. There was also onboard(p. 070) a loud-talking man who walked the saloon with his handsin his pockets, looking everybody square in the face; he was intenselyloyal to the Union.

"Why don't Buell move? Why don't Halleck move? It is my opinion thatthey are both of 'em old grannies. I want to see the Rebels licked. Ihave lived in Tophet for the last six months. I live in Henderson, andit has been a perfect hell ever since the Rebels fired on Fort Sumter.I have lost my property through the d—d scoundrels. I want a regimentof Union troops to go down there and clean out the devils."

It was early morning when the scream of the Gray Eagle roused theusual crowd of loafers from their sleep and inanition at Owensboro'. Amotley mob came down to the wharf eager to hear the news. I had beeninformed that the place was one where whiskey distilleries abound, andthe information proved to be correct. The distillery buildings weredistinctly recognized by their smoking chimneys, creaking pumps, andsteaming vats. The crowd on the shore had whiskey in their looks andbehavior. Among them was one enthusiastic admirer of Abraham Lincoln.He was bloated, blear-eyed, a tatterdemalion, with just enough whiskeyin him to make him thick-spoken, reckless, and irresponsible in theeyes of his liquor-loving companions. While we were at a distance heswung his hat and gave a cheer for Old Abe; as we came nearer herepeated it; and as the plank was being thrown ashore he fairly dancedwith ecstasy, shouting, "Hurrah for Old Abe! He'll fix 'em. Hurrah forOld Abe! Hurrah for Old Abe!"

"Shet up, you drunken cuss. Hurrah for Jeff Davis!" was the responseof another blear-eyed, tipsy loafer.

The steamer Storm was tolling its bell as the Gray Eagle came to thelanding at Evansville, bound for Green River. Her decks were piledwith bags of corn and coffee. A barge was tethered to her side, loadedwith bundle hay and a half-dozen ambulances. We were just in time toreach the deck before the plank was drawn in. Then with hoarse puffsthe heavily laden old craft swung into the stream and surged slowlyagainst the swollen tide of the Ohio. Green River joins the Ohio tenmiles above Evansville. It is a beautiful stream, with(p. 071)forest-bordered banks. At that season of the year there was nothingparticularly inspiring to the muse along this stream, unless one cankindle a poetic flame in swamps, lagoons, creeks, and log-cabinsstanding on stilts, with water beneath, around, and often within them.On the spit of land between the Ohio and Green rivers, on postsseveral feet under water, was a log-cabin; a row-boat was tied to thesteps, a woman and a half-dozen children stared at us from the opendoor. All around was forest. A gentleman on board said it was afishing family. If so, the family, little ones and all, might ply thepiscatory art from doors and windows. A more dreary, watery placecannot be imagined.

The Storm was not a floating palace with gilded saloons, velvettapestry carpets, French mirrors, and a grand piano, but an old wheezytow-boat, with great capacity below and little above. There was a roomfor the gentlemen, and a little box of a place for any ladies whomight be under the necessity of patronizing the craft.

There were no soldiers on board, but thirty or forty passengers. Wewere a hard-looking set. Our clothes were muddy, our beards shaggy,our countenances far from being Caucasian in color, with sundry otherpeculiarities of dress, feature, and demeanor.

There was one stout man with an enormous quantity of brown hair, and athick yellow beard, belonging to Hopkinsville, near the Tennesseeline, who had been compelled to flee for his life.

"We got up a cannon company, and I was captain. We had as neat alittle six-pounder as you ever saw; but I was obliged to cut and runwhen the Rebels came in December; but I buried the pup and theSecessionists don't know where she is! If I ever get back there I'llmake some of them cusses—my old neighbors—bite the dust. I have justheard that they have tied my brother up and almost whipped him todeath. They gouged out his eyes, stamped in his face, and have takenall his property."

Here he was obliged to stop his narrative and give vent to a longstring of oaths, consigning the Rebels to all the tortures and painsof the bottomless pit forever. Having disgorged his wrath, he said,—

(p. 072) "Now, sir, there is a grave judicial question on my mind, andI would like your opinion upon it. If you owned a darkey who shouldget over into Indiana, a bright, intelligent darkey, and he shouldtake with him ten niggers from your secession neighbors, and youshould happen to know it, would you send them back?"

"No, sir; I should not."

"That is my mind 'zactly. I knew you was a good Union man the moment Isot my eyes on ye." Then came an interesting explanation. He had oneslave, a devoted fellow, who had become an active conductor on theunderground railroad. The slave had been often to Evansville and knewthe country, and had enticed away ten negroes belonging to theSecessionists in the vicinity of Hopkinsville. He had seen them allthat morning, and more, had given each of them a hearty breakfast!"You see," said he, "if they belonged to Union men I would have sent'em back; but they belonged to the —--Secessionists who have drivenme out, taken all my property, and do you think I'd be mean enough tosend the niggers back?"

On board the Storm were several other men who had been driven fromtheir homes by the Secessionists. There was one gentleman, aslaveholder from the little town of Volney, between Hopkinsville andthe Cumberland River. All of his property had been taken, his negroes,if they were not sold or seized, were roaming at will. He had twobrothers in the Rebel army. He was a plain, sensible, well-informedfarmer. He lived close upon the Tennessee line, and was acquaintedwith the Southern country.

"Slavery is a doomed institution," said he; "from Kentucky, fromMissouri, from Maryland and Virginia the slaves have been pouringsouthward. There has been a great condensation of slaves at the Southwhere they are not wanted, and where they cannot be supported if theblockade continues. The South never has raised its own provisions. Shecould do it if she put forth her energies; but she never has and shewill not now. The time will come, if the blockade continues, when themaster will be compelled to say to the slaves, 'Get your living whereyou can,' and then the system, being rolled back(p. 073) upon itself,will be broken up. As for myself, I would like to have kept my slaves,because I am getting along in years and I wanted them to take care ofme; but as the Secessionists have taken them and driven me out, itwon't make any difference to me whether the system is continued ornot."

It is utterly impossible to convey to a New-Englander who has nevercrossed the Hudson a correct idea of a Kentucky country village, likethat of Calhoun, as seen from the deck of the steamer Storm, in thelight of a beautiful morning, so mild and spring-like that the robins,bluebirds, jays, pewits, and sparrows were filling the air with theirsongs, having returned from their sojourn in a Southern clime. Asentinel was plashing through the mud along the bank, guarding theferry to the town of Rumsey, on the opposite side of the river. Thebank rises abruptly into the main street of the town. First we havethe McLean House, the first-class hotel of the place,—a woodenbuilding two stories high, containing six or eight rooms. There isbeyond it one brick building, then a number of smaller buildingscontaining a couple of rooms each, and forty rods distant a church,respectable in style and proportions. The land is undulating, and onthe hillsides there are dwellings, a half-dozen of which you mightcall comfortable. The original forest oaks are still standing. A creekor bayou runs through the town, the receptacle of all the filthgenerated by ten thousand men, and thousands of mules, horses, andhogs.

Rumsey, on the opposite side of the river, is of smaller dimensions.Years ago it was a "right smart" town, but business has disappeared.The people have also gone, and now one sees a row of windowless,doorless, deserted houses, soaked in every flood of waters.

Visiting the "first class" hotel of the place, we sat down in theparlor or reception-room, or whatever room it was, while the cookprepared breakfast. It was also the landlord's bed-room, occupied byhimself and wife.

Calling upon the landlord for a place for toilet operations, we wereinvited into the kitchen which was also the dining-room and pantry andJim's bed-room,—Jim being a tall negro, who just now is washingdishes, with a tin pan of hot water, and without any soap. Dinah isrolling biscuit, and(p. 074) tending the hoe-cake, which is cookingnicely on the stove. There is the flour-barrel close at hand. There isone dinner-pot, with two kettles, a pail of water, a lantern, thepepper-box, a dish of fat, a plate of butter, and a great heap of tindishes on the table, where Dinah is moulding the biscuit, while Jimoccupies the other end. The dining-table stands in the centre of theroom. The plates are laid, and the whole is covered with a blue cloth,which at first sight seems to be a soldier's blanket, and which uponclose inspection leaves us still in doubt whether it is a table-clothor a bed-coverlet. There are some chairs, and an old desk which haslost its lid, in which are nails, a hammer, some old papers, and adeal of dust. It evidently "came down from a former generation."

We have time to notice these things while the landlord is preparingfor our washing exploit, which is to be performed near Jim, with abasin on a chair.

Then we have breakfast,—beefsteak and porksteak, and buckwheat cakes,all fried in lard, sausages, potatoes, Dinah's hoe-cakes, hot flourbiscuit, and a dish of hash, which will not go down at all, and coffeewithout milk, preferred to the water of Green River, which in itsnatural state is somewhat the color of yellow snuff, and which isdrank by the inhabitants of Calhoun, notwithstanding thousands ofhorses are stabled on its banks.

There was no movement of the troops, therefore nothing to detain us atCalhoun, and knowing that there was something of interest up theCumberland and Tennessee rivers, we went on board the Mattie Cook, thedownward-bound steamer. While waiting for her departure we gazed atthe sights upon the shore. There was a great deal of life,—wagons,soldiers, citizens floundering through the mud to the landing,transporting goods. There were ludicrous scenes of men and teams stuckin the mortar-bed; but in the midst of life there was death. A squadof soldiers came down from camp to the hospital with a bier, and withthe slow funeral dirge brought two of their comrades to the boat,—twowho had just passed from the scenes of strife on earth to the eternalpeace beyond. Those who bore them were by no means unaffected by thepart they were called upon(p. 075) to perform. There were sadcountenances, too, on board the boat,—two ladies, both strangers tothe dead, but not indifferent to the scene. They had woman's tendersensibilities, and could not keep back the tears from their eyes, forthey thought of their own sons whom they had just left, and who nowstood upon the bank to say perhaps a last good-by.

But how transitory are all the most solemn impressions of death! Tenminutes later a company of soldiers appeared for a trip down the riverto Stevensport to bag, if possible, the squad of Rebels which had beenprowling about the town of Stevensport. They came on board with ahurrah, and made the welkin ring with the "Red, White, and Blue." Itwas a pleasure to them to leave the hateful place even for a night,and be in active service.

Baltimore in 1861.

(p. 076) CHAPTER VI.
THE OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN IN TENNESSEE.

At last the Rebel lines were broken. Commodore Foote had opened agateway to the heart of the Confederacy by the capture of Fort Henryon the 6th of February. While up Green River I learned of the intendedmovement, and hastened to be present, but was delayed betweenEvansville and Paducah, and was not in season to see the engagement.

Late on the Friday evening after I saw Commodore Foote in Cairo. Hehad just returned from Fort Henry.

"Can you favor me with an account of the affair?" I asked.

"It will give me great pleasure to do so after I have prepared mydespatches for Washington," he replied.

It was past midnight when he came to my room. He sat down, and leanedback wearily in his chair. But soon recovering his usual energy, gavethe full details of the action. He had prepared his instructions tohis crews several days before the battle, and upon mature thought, sawnothing to change.

To the commanders and crews he said, that it was very necessary tosuccess that they should keep cool. He desired them to fire withdeliberate aim, and not to attempt rapid firing, for four reasons,viz. that with rapid firing there was always a waste of ammunition;that their range would be wild; that the enemy would be encouragedunless the fire was effectual; that it was desirable not to heat theguns.

With these instructions he led his fleet up the narrow channel undercover of Pine Island, thus avoiding long-range shot from the rifledguns which it was known the enemy had in position to sweep the mainchannel. He steamed slow, to allow the troops time to gain theirposition.

He visited each vessel and gave personal directions. He took his ownposition in the pilot-house of the Cincinnati. The St.(p. 077) Louiswas on his right hand and the Carondelet and Essex were on his left,with the Tyler, Connestoga, and Lexington in rear. There is an islanda mile and a quarter below the fort. When the head of the island wasreached the boats came into line and were within easy range.

"Do just as I do," was his last order to the commanders.

The Cincinnati opened, and the other vessels were quick to follow theCommodore's example.

"I had a definite purpose in view," said he, "to take the fort at allhazards. It was necessary for the success of the cause. We have haddisaster upon disaster, and I intended, God helping me, to win avictory. It made me feel bad when I saw the Essex drop out of theline, but I knew that the fort couldn't stand it much longer. I shouldhave opened my broadsides in a minute or two, if Tilghman had notsurrendered, and that I knew would settle the question. We were notmore than four hundred yards distant."

He said that when the Essex dropped behind the Rebels set up atremendous cheer, and redoubled their fire; but being excited theiraim was bad.

"There is nothing like keeping perfectly cool in battle," said he.

"When Tilghman came into my cabin," said the Commodore, "he asked forterms, but I informed him that his surrender must be final."

"Well, sir, if I must surrender, it gives me pleasure to surrender toso brave an officer as you," said Tilghman.

"You do perfectly right to surrender, sir; but I should not havesurrendered on any condition."

"Why so? I do not understand you."

"Because I was fully determined to capture the fort or go to thebottom."

The Rebel general opened his eyes at this remark, but replied, "Ithought I had you, Commodore, but you were too much for me."

"But how could you fight against the old flag?"

"Well, it did come hard at first; but if the North had only let usalone there would have been no trouble. But they would not abide bythe Constitution."

(p. 078) "You are mistaken, sir. The North has maintained all of herConstitutional obligations. You of the South have perjured yourselves.I talked to him faithfully," said the zealous officer.

The Commodore was now nervously restless, but said: "I never sleptbetter in my life than I did the night before going into the battle,and I never prayed more fervently than I did yesterday morning, thatGod would bless the undertaking, and he has signally answered myprayer. I don't deserve it, but I trust that I shall be grateful forit. But I couldn't sleep last night for thinking of those poor fellowson board the Essex, who were wounded and scalded. I told the surgeonsto do everything possible for them. Poor fellows! I must go and seethat they are well cared for."

It was one o'clock in the morning, yet exhausted as he was, he went tosee that the sufferers were having every possible attention.

This was on Saturday morning; the next day he went to church as usual.The minister was not there, and after waiting awhile the audience oneby one began to drop off, whereupon Commodore Foote entered thepulpit, and conducted the exercises, reading the fourteenth chapter ofJohn's Gospel, and addressed the congregation, urging sinners torepentance, picturing the unspeakable love of Christ, and the rewardswhich await the righteous, and closing the services by a ferventprayer. It was as unostentatious as all his other acts, undertakenwith a dutiful desire to benefit those about him, and to glorify God.That was his aim in life.

The Rebel troops which were in and around Fort Henry fled in dismaysoon after the opening of the bombardment, leaving all their campequipage. In the barracks the camp-fires were still blazing, anddinners cooking, when our troops entered. Books, letters half written,trunks, carpet-bags, knives, pistols, were left behind, and wereeagerly seized by the soldiers, who rent the air with shouts oflaughter, mingled with the cheers of victory.

Although not present, a letter fell into my hands written by a fatherin Mississippi to his sons, which gives an insight into the conditionof affairs in the Confederacy at that time:—

The capture of Fort Donelson and the troops defending it, was thefirstgreat achievement of the Union armies. The affair at MillSpring, and the taking of Roanoke Island by Burnside, were important,but minor engagements when compared with the breaking in of the Rebelline of defence on the Cumberland and Tennessee. The fighting onSaturday, the last day of the series of battles, was desperate andbloody. The ground on the right in the morning, when the Rebels movedout and overwhelmed McClernand, was hotly contested. Grant's lineswere so extended and necessarily thin that the Rebels were enabled topush McClernand back nearly two miles. This was done by Pillow andBushrod Johnson, who gained McClernand's flank. Buckner, however, whowas to strike McClernand's left, was slow in advancing. Had he(p. 080) moved as rapidly as the other divisions, McClernand wouldhave been utterly routed. It was then that W. H. L. Wallace, ofIllinois, showed his great military ability. He had been in theMexican war, was courageous, and had that power ofpresence whichmade every man feel that he was under the eye of his commander. Then,too, General Logan animated his men, and held them in close contactwith the Rebels till wounded.

The charge of General C. P. Smith's division on the left, in theafternoon of Saturday, was sublime. General Smith was an old soldier,who had served in Mexico. His hair was long and white, and as he rodealong his lines, making arrangements for the advance, he was the mostconspicuous of all men on the field. He paid no heed to the rifle andmusket balls which were singing about his ears; he sat firmly on hishorse. When his lines were ready, he led them, with his cap on thepoint of his sword.

It was sunset or nearly that hour, when his division moved to theattack of the outer works, at the southwest angle of the fort. Therewas a steady advance through an open field,—a rush up the hill,—acheer,—the rout of Hanson's brigade of Rebels, the Second Kentucky,Twentieth Mississippi, and Thirtieth Tennessee,—a long, loud shout oftriumph, mingled with the roar of cannon, and the rolls of musketryfrom the fort, pouring upon them a concentrated fire!

The scene at Donelson on Sunday morning, the day of surrender, wasexceedingly exhilarating,—the marching in of the victoriousdivisions,—the bands playing, their flags waving, the cheers of thetroops,—the gunboats firing a salute,—the immense flotilla of riversteamboats gayly decorated! The New Uncle Sam was the boat on whichGeneral Grant had established his head-quarters. The Uncle Sam, at asignal from Commodore Foote, ranged ahead, came alongside one of thegunboats, and, followed by all the fleet, steamed up river past FortDonelson, thick with Confederate soldiers,—past the intrenched campof log-huts, past a school-house on a hill, above which waved thehospital flag,—and on to Dover, the gunboats thundering a nationalsalute the while.

A warp was thrown ashore, the plank run out. I sprang up the bank,and mingled among the disconsolate creatures,—a(p. 081) care-worn,haggard, melancholy crowd which stood upon the heights above. They alltold one story, claiming that they had fought well; that weoutnumbered them; that there was a disagreement among their officers;that we had got General Buckner; that Floyd and Pillow had escaped;that Floyd had taken four regiments of his brigade; that there werefour steamers; that they went off crowded with soldiers, the guardssunk to the water's edge.

The town of Dover is the county seat of Stewart, and a point where thefarmers ship their produce. It is a straggling village on unevenground, and contains perhaps five hundred inhabitants. There are a fewbuildings formerly used for stores, a doctor's office, a dilapidatedchurch, a two-story square brick court-house, and a half-dozen decentdwellings. But the place had suffered greatly while occupied by theSecession forces. Nearly every building was a hospital. Trees had beencut down, fences burned, windows broken, and old buildings demolishedfor fuel.

We came upon a squad of soldiers hovering around a fire. Some werewrapped in old patched bedquilts which had covered them at home. Somehad white blankets, made mostly of cotton. Others wore bright bocking,which had evidently been furnished from a merchant's stock. One had afaded piece of threadbare carpet. Their guns were stacked, theirequipments thrown aside, cartridge-boxes, belts, and ammunitiontrampled in the mud. There were shot-guns, single and double-barreled,old heavy rifles, flint-lock muskets of 1828, some of them alteredinto percussion locks, with here and there an Enfield rifle.

A few steps brought me to the main landing, where the Confederatestores were piled, and from which Floyd made his escape. The gunboatswere lying off the landing, and a portion of McClernand's division wason the hills beyond, the stars and stripes and the regimental bannerswaving, and the bands playing. Away up on the hill Taylor's batterywas firing a national salute.

There were sacks of corn, tierces of rice, sides of bacon, barrels offlour, hogsheads of sugar, sufficient for several days' rations. Thenthere was a dense crowd of Secessionists, evidently(p. 082) therabble, or thedébris of the army, belonging to all regiments. Somewere sullen, some indifferent, some evidently felt a sense of relief,mingled with their apprehensions for the future. Among them weresquads of our own soldiers, with smiling faces, feeling very much athome, but manifesting no disposition to add to the unhappiness of thecaptured.

General McClernand's division had marched down to the outskirts of thevillage, and was keeping guard. A private ran into the court-house andthrew the flag of the Union to the breeze from the belfry. Soldiers ofour army were inspecting the shops of the place. In the basement of astore was the Confederate arsenal. There were piles of rifles, oldshot-guns, many of them ticketed with the owner's name. There weremany hunter's rifles, which had done good service in other days amongthe mountains and forests of Tennessee, but, for use in battle, of butlittle account.

In another building was the Commissary department. There werehogsheads of sugar, barrels of rice, boxes of abominable soap, and afew barrels of flour. Later in the day we saw soldiers luxuriatinglike children in the hogsheads of sugar. Many a one filled his canteenwith New Orleans molasses and his pockets with damp brown sugar.Looking into a store we found a squad of soldiers taking things of noearthly use. One had a looking-glass under his arm, one a paper offiles, another several brass candlesticks, one a package of bonnets.

The Mississippians and Texans were boiling over with rage againstFloyd and Pillow for having deserted them.

"Floyd always was a d—d thief and sneak," said one.

Just before sunset we took a ramble through the grounds andencampments of the Rebels, who were falling into line preparatory toembarking upon the steamers. Standing on a hill beyond the village, wehad at one view almost all their force. Hogarth never saw such asight; Shakespeare, in his conceptions of Falstaff's tatterdemalions,could not have imagined the like,—not that they were deficient inintellect, or wanting in courage, for among them were noble men, bravefellows, who shed tears when they found they were prisoners of war,and who swore with round oaths that they would shoot Floyd as theywould a dog, if they could get a chance, but that(p. 083) forgrotesque appearance they were never equalled, except by the Londonbagmen and chiffoniers of Paris.

There were all sorts of uniforms, brown-colored predominating, as ifthey were in the snuff business and had been rolled in tobacco-dust.There was sheep gray, iron gray, blue gray, dirty gray, with bedblankets, quilts, buffalo-robes, pieces of carpeting of all colors andfigures, for blankets. Each had his pack on his shoulder. Judging bytheir garments, one would have thought that the last scrapings, theodds and ends of humanity and of dry goods, had been brought together.

The formal surrender of the fort took place in the cabin of the NewUncle Sam in the evening. Buckner sat on one side of the table andGeneral Grant on the other. Buckner was attended by two of his staff.The Rebel commander was in the prime of life, although his hair hadturned iron gray. He was of medium stature, having a low forehead andthin cheeks, wore a moustache and meagre whiskers. He had on alight-blue kersey overcoat and a checked neckcloth. He was smoking acigar, and talking in a low, quiet tone. He evidently felt that he wasin a humiliating position, but his deportment was such as to commandrespect when contrasted with the course of Floyd and Pillow. His chiefof staff sat by his side.

Buckner freely gave information relative to his positions, his forces,their disposition, and his intentions. He expected to escape, andclaimed that the engagements on Saturday were all in favor of theConfederates. No opprobrious words were used by any one. Nodiscussions entered into. He asked for subsistence for his men, andsaid that he had only two days' provisions on hand. He had favors toask for some of his wounded officers, all of which were readilyacceded to by General Grant, who was very much at ease, smoking acigar, and conducting the business with dignity, yet with despatch.

The prisoners were taken on board of the transports, the men on thelower deck, and the officers having the freedom of the boat. Thesaloons and cabins, berths and state-rooms were filled with thewounded of both armies.

"The conditions of the surrender have been most shamefully violated,"said a tall, dark-haired, black-eyed Mississippi colonel, on boardthe Belle of Memphis.

(p. 084) "How so?" I asked.

"It was agreed that we should be treated like gentlemen, but thesteward of the boat won't let us have seats at the table. He chargesus a half-dollar a meal, and refuses Confederate money."

"Well, sir, you fare no worse than the rest of us. I paid for astate-room, but the surgeon turned me out and put in a wounded man,which was all right and proper, and at which I have no complaint tomake, and I shall think myself well off if I can get hard-tack."

While conversing with him, a Mississippi captain came up,—a tall,red-whiskered, tobacco-chewing, ungainly fellow, with a swaggeringair. "This is d—d pretty business. They talk of reconstructing theUnion, and begin by rejecting our money. I don't get anything to eat,"he said.

I directed his attention to a barrel of bacon and several boxes ofbread which had been opened for the prisoners, and from which theywere helping themselves. He turned away in disgust, saying,—

"Officers are to be treated according to their rank,—likegentlemen,—and I'll be d—d if I don't pitch in and give somebody alicking!"

Some of the officers on board conducted themselves with perfectdecorum. One young physician gave his services to our wounded.

Although Commodore Foote had been wounded in the gunboat attack uponthe fort, he intended to push up the river to Nashville, and interceptGeneral Albert Sidney Johnston, who he knew must be falling back fromBowling Green, but he was stopped by a despatch from General Halleckto General Grant. "Don't let Foote go up the river."

The gunboats could have reached Nashville in eight hours. Floyd andPillow, who made their escape from Donelson at sunrise, reached thecity before noon, while the congregations were in the churches. HadCommodore Foote followed he would have been in the city by threeo'clock, holding the bridges, patrolling the rivers, and cutting offJohnston's retreat. Buell had between thirty and forty thousand men,Johnston less than twenty. On the heel of the demoralization incidentto the(p. 085) rout at Mill Springs, Fort Henry, and the loss atDonelson, the entire Rebel army in the West could have been destroyed,but for the dictation of General Halleck, sitting in the planter'shouse five hundred miles distant.

"Had I been permitted to carry out my intention we should have put anend to the rebellion in the West," said Commodore Foote.

General Halleck had endeavored to enforce his order No. 3, excludingnegroes from his lines, but before daybreak on Sunday morning atDonelson a negro entered the lines, having made his way out fromDover, past the Rebel pickets. He reported that the Rebels werefleeing. Some of the officers suggested that he was sent out to lureGrant into a trap, and proposed to tie him up and give him a whipping.

"You may hang me, shoot me, do anything to me, if it a'n't as I tellyou," was his earnest reply.

One hour later came the Rebel flag of truce from Buckner, asking forthe appointment of Commissioners; but the information already obtainedenabled Grant to reply: "I propose to move immediately upon yourworks."

The negro was a slave, who entered the Union lines in search offreedom,—that which his soul most longed for. General Grant did notexclude him. Like a sensible man, he took no action in the matter,gave no directions as to what should be done with him. The slave beingat liberty to decide for himself, took passage on a transport forCairo. The steamer stopped at a landing for wood, when the slave wasrecognized by some of the citizens, who said that he belonged to aUnion man, and demanded that he should be put off the boat. Thecaptain of the steamer was inclined to accede to their demands; butthe officers on board, knowing what service he had rendered, informedthe captain that he need not be under any apprehensions of arrest bycivil process, as martial law was in force. They kept the negro undertheir protection, and gave him his liberty, thus setting at defianceGeneral Halleck and his pro-slavery order.

A great many negroes came into the lines, and were welcomed by thesoldiers. Among them was a boy, black as anthracite, with large,lustrous eyes, and teeth as white as purest ivory.(p. 086) He wasthirteen years old, born in Kentucky, but for several years had livednear Dover. His master, he said, was a gentleman, owned twenty-fourslaves. He had on a greasy shirt of snuff-colored jean, the genuinenegro cloth, such as one half the Southern army was compelled to wear.His slouched hat was tipped back upon his head, showing a countenanceindicative of intelligence.

"Well, my boy, what is your name?" I asked.

"Dick, massa."

"Where do you live?"

"About fourteen miles from Dover, massa, up near de rollin' mill."

"Is your master a Secessionist?"

"He was Secesh, massa, but he be Union now."

This was correct testimony, the master appearing with great boldnessat General Grant's head-quarters to let it be known he was for theUnion.

"Are you a slave, Dick?"

"I was a slave, but I's free now; I's 'fiscated."

"Where were you when the fight was going on at Fort Donelson?"

"At home; but when massa found de fort was took he started us all offfor de Souf, but we got away and come down to Dover, and was'fiscated."

The master was a Secessionist till his twenty-four chattels, which hewas trying to run South, became perverse and veered to the North withmuch fleetness. Not only were these twenty-four started South, but tentimes twenty-four, from the vicinity of Dover, and an hundred timestwenty-four from Clarkesville, Nashville, and all along theCumberland. When Donelson fell, the edifice of the Secessionistsbecame very shaky in one corner.

Columbus was occupied on the 5th of March, the Rebels retiring toIsland No. 10. Visiting the post-office, I secured several bushels ofSouthern newspapers, which revealed a state of general gloom anddespondency throughout the Confederacy. Inspired by the events of1861,—the battles of Bull Run, Belmont, and other engagements,—theSouthern muse had struck its lyre.

(p. 087) The battle of Belmont had kindled a poetic flame in thebreast of Jo. Augustine Signaigo, in the MemphisAppeal. The openingstanza is as follows:—

"Now glory to our Southern cause, and praises be to God,
That He hath met the Southron's foe, and scourged him with his rod;
On the tented plains of Belmont, there in their might the Vandals came.
And gave unto Destruction all they found, with sword and flame;
But they met a stout resistance from a little band that day,
Who swore that they would conquer, or return to mother clay."

After a description of the fight, we have the following warning in thetenth stanza:—

"Let the horrors of this day to the foe a warning be,
That the Lord is with the South, that His arm is with the free;
That her soil is pure and spotless as her clear and sunny sky,
And he who dare pollute it on her soil shall basely die;
For His fiat hath gone forth, e'en among the Hessian horde,
That the South has got His blessing, for the South is of the Lord."

The New OrleansPicayune had an "Ode on the Meeting of the SouthernCongress, by Henry Timrod," which opened in the following loftylines:—

"Hath not the morning dawned with added light!
And will not evening call another star
Out of the infinite regions of the night
To mark this day in Heaven? At last, we are
A nation among nations; and the world
Shall soon behold, in many a distant port,
Another flag unfurled!"

This poet gave the following contrast between the North and South:—

"Look where we will, we cannot find a ground
For any mournful song!
Call up the clashing elements around,
And test the right and wrong!
On one side,—pledges broken, creeds that lie,
Religion sunk in vague philosophy;
Empty professions; Pharisaic leaven;
Souls that would sell their birth-right in the sky;
Philanthropists who pass the beggar by,
And laws which controvert the laws of Heaven!
And, on the other, first, a righteous cause!
Then, honor without flaws,
Truth, Bible reverence, charitable wealth,
(p. 088) And for the poor and humble, laws which give
Not the mean right to buy the right to live,
But life, home and health.
To doubt the issue were distrust in God!
If in his providence He had decreed
That, to the peace for which we pray,
Through the Red Sea of War must lie our way,
Doubt not, O-brothers, we shall find at need
A Moses with his rod!"

The VicksburgCitizen had thirty stanzas rehearsing the events ofthe year 1861. Two or three selections will be sufficient to show thatthe muse halted a little now and then:—

The bombardment of Island No. 10 commenced on the 9th of March, andcontinued nearly a month. General Pope moving overland, captured NewMadrid, planted his guns, and had the Rebel steamboats in a trap. Thenaval action of March 17th was grand beyond description. The mortarswere in full play. The Cincinnati, Benton, and St. Louis were lashedtogether, and anchored with their bows down stream. The Carondelet andMound City were placed in position to give a cross-fire with the otherthree, while the Pittsburg was held in reserve.

It was past one o'clock in the afternoon of as beautiful a(p. 089)day as ever dawned upon the earth, when a ball of bunting went up tothe top of the Benton's flagstaff, and fluttered out into the battlesignal. Then came a flash, a belching of smoke from her bows, a roarand reverberation rolling far away,—a screaming in the air, a tossingup of earth and an explosion in the Rebel works.

The highest artistic skill cannot portray the scene of thatafternoon,—the flashes and flames,—the great white clouds, mountingabove the boats, and floating majestically away over the dark grayforests,—the mortars throwing up vast columns of sulphurous cloud,which widen, expand, and roll forward in fantastic folds,—the shellsone after another in swift succession rising, rotating, rushing upwardand onward, sailing a thousand feet high, their course tracking alight gossamer trail, which becomes a beautiful parabola, and then theterrific explosion,—a flash, a handful of cloud, a strange whirringof the ragged fragments of iron hurled upwards, outwards, anddownwards, crashing through the forests!

I was favored with a position on the Silver Wave steamer, lying justabove the Benton, her wheels slowly turning to keep her in position torun down and help the gunboats if by chance they were disabled. TheRebel batteries on the mainland and on the Island, the Rebel steamerswandering up and down like rats in a cage, were in full view. With myglass I could see all that took place in and around the nearestbattery. Columns of water were thrown up by the shot from thegunboats, like the first gush from the hose of a steam fire-engine,which falls in rainbow-colored spray. There were little splashes inthe stream when the fragments of shell dropped from the sky. Roundshot skipped along the surface of the river, tearing through the Rebelworks, filling the air with sticks, timbers, earth, and branches oftrees, as if a thunderbolt had fallen. There were explosions followedby volumes of smoke rising from the ground like the mists of a summermorning. There was a hissing, crackling, and thundering explosion infront and rear and overhead. But there were plucky men in the fort,who at intervals came out from their bomb-proof, and sent back adefiant answer. There was a flash, a volume of smoke, a hissing as ifa flying fiery serpent were sailing through the(p. 090) air, growinglouder, clearer, nearer, more fearful and terrific, crashing into theBenton, tearing up the iron plating, cutting off beams, splinteringplanks, smashing the crockery in the pantry, and breaking up theAdmiral's writing-desk.

"Howling and screeching and whizzing,
The bomb-shells arched on high,
And then, like fiery meteors,
Dropped swiftly from the sky."

All through the sunny hours, till evening, the gunboats maintainedtheir position. While around the bright flashes, clouds of smoke, andheavy thunderings brought to mind the gorgeous imagery of Revelation,descriptive of the last judgment.

While the bombardment was at its height, I received a package ofletters, intrusted to my care. There was one postmarked from a town inMaine, directed to a sailor on the St. Louis. Jumping on board a tug,which was conveying ammunition to the gunboats, I visited the vesselto distribute the letters. A gun had burst during the action, killingand wounding several of the crew. It was a sad scene. There were thedead,—two of them killed instantly, and one of them the brave fellowfrom Maine. Captain Paulding opened the letter, and found it to befrom one who had confided to the noble sailor her heart'saffections,—who was looking forward to the time when the war would beover, and they would be happy together as husband and wife.

"Poor girl! I shall have to write her sad news," said the captain.

Day after day and night after night the siege was kept up, till itgrew exceedingly monotonous. I became so accustomed to the poundingthat, though the thirteen-inch mortars were not thirty rods distantfrom my quarters, I was not wakened by the tremendous explosions.Commodore Foote found it very difficult to fight down stream, as thewater was very high, flooding all the country. Colonel Bissell, ofGeneral Pope's army, proposed the cutting of a canal through thewoods, to enable the gunboats to reach New Madrid. It was an Herculeanundertaking. A light-draft transport was rigged for(p. 091) theenterprise. Machinery was attached to the donkey-engine of the steamerby which immense cotton-wood trees were sawed off four feet underwater.

There was something very enchanting in the operation,—to steam outfrom the main river, over corn-fields and pasture lands, into the darkforests, threading a narrow and intricate channel, across thecountry,—past the Rebel batteries. A transport was taken through, anda tugboat, but the channel was not deep enough for the gunboats.

Captain Stembel, commanding the Benton,—a brave and competentofficer, Commodore Foote's right-hand man,—proposed to run thebatteries by night to New Madrid, capture the Rebel steamer which Popehad caught in a trap, then turning head up stream take the Rebelbatteries in reverse. The Commodore hesitated. He was cautious as wellas brave. At length he accepted the plan, and sent the Pittsburg andCarondelet past the batteries at night. It was a bold undertaking, butaccomplished without damage to the gunboats. The current was swift andstrong, and they went with the speed of a race-horse.

Their presence at New Madrid was hailed with joy by the troops. Foursteamboats had worked their way through the canal. A regiment wastaken on board each boat. The Rebels had a battery on the other sideof the river at Watson's Landing, which was speedily silenced by thetwo gunboats. The troops landed, and under General Paine drove theRebels from their camp, who fled in confusion, throwing away theirguns, knapsacks, and clothing.

General Pope sent over the balance of his troops, and with his wholeforce moved upon General Mackall, the Rebel commander, who surrenderedhis entire command, consisting of nearly seven thousand prisoners, onehundred and twenty three guns, and an immense amount of supplies.

The troops of General Paine's brigade came across a farm yard whichwas well stocked with poultry, and helped themselves. The farmer'swife visited the General's head-quarters to enter a complaint.

"They are stealing all my chickens, General! I sha'n't have oneleft," she exclaimed, excitedly.

(p. 092) "I am exceedingly sorry, ma'am," said the General, with greatcourtesy; "but we are going to put down the rebellion if it takesevery chicken in the State of Tennessee!"

The woman retired, evidently regarding the Yankees as a race ofvandals.

East Tennessee refugees.

(p. 093) CHAPTER VII.
PITTSBURG LANDING, FORT PILLOW, AND MEMPHIS.

The battle of Pittsburg Landing, or Shiloh as it is sometimes called,was fought on the 6th and 7th of April. It was a contest which hasscarcely been surpassed for manhood, pluck, endurance, and heroism. Inproportion to the numbers engaged the loss in killed and wounded wasas great as that of any battle of the war. The disasters to the Rebelcause in Tennessee moved Davis to hurry reinforcements to Corinth,which was the new base of Johnston's operations. Beauregard was sentinto the department. He had the reputation of being a great commander,because he commanded the Rebel batteries in the attack on Sumter, andhad received the glory of winning the victory at Bull Run. Time is thetest of honor. Men, like the stars, have their hours of rising andsetting. He was in the zenith of his fame.

Albert Sydney Johnston was still in command, but he was induced tomove from Corinth to Pittsburg Landing and attack Grant before Buell,who was slowly moving across the country from Nashville, could joinhim.

Buell marched with great deliberation. He even gave express ordersthat there should be six miles' space between the divisions of hisarmy. The position at Pittsburg Landing was chosen by General Smith,as being a convenient base for a movement upon Corinth. It had somenatural advantages for defence,—Lick Creek and a ravine above theLanding,—but nothing was done towards erecting barricades orbreastworks. There are writers who maintain that the attack of theRebels was expected; but if expected, would not prudence have dictatedthe slashing of trees, the erection of breastworks, and a regulardisposition of the forces? On Friday and Saturday the Rebel cavalryappeared in our front, but were easily driven back towards Corinth.

(p. 094) Nothing was done towards strengthening the line; no orderswere issued in anticipation of a battle till the pickets were attackedon Sunday morning, while the troops were cooking their coffee, andwhile many of the officers were in bed.

Pittsburg is the nearest point to Corinth on the river. The road windsup the bank, passes along the edge of a deep ravine, leadingsouthwest. It forks a half-mile from the Landing, the left-hand pathleading to Hamburg up the river, and the main road leading to ShilohChurch, four miles from the Landing. The accompanying sketch of thechurch was taken the week after the battle, with the head-quartertents of General Sherman around it. Its architecture is exceedinglyprimitive. It is a fair type of the inertness of the people of thatregion at the time. It is about twenty-five or thirty feet square,built of logs, without pulpit or pews, with rude benches for seats.Once it was chinked with clay, but the rains have washed out themortar, and the wind comes in through all the crevices. It isthoroughly ventilated. It would make a good corn-crib for an Illinoisfarmer.

A brook meanders through the forest, furnishing water for theworshipping assemblies. South of the church, and across the brook, isa clearing,—an old farm-house where Beauregard wrote his despatch toJeff Davis on Sunday night, announcing a great victory. There areother little clearings, which have been long under cultivation. Thepeople were too indolent to make new openings in the forest, wherecenturies of mould had accumulated. The country was but little furtheradvanced than when Daniel Boone passed through the Cumberland Gap.Civilization came and made a beginning; but the blight of slavery wasthere. How the tillage and culture of New England or Ohio would crownthose swells of land with sheaves of grain! What corn and cloverfields, pastures of honeysuckle, gardens of roses! Within four milesof one of the most beautiful rivers in the world,—in a countryneeding only industry to make it a paradise,—the mourning dove filledthe air with its plaintive notes in the depths of an almost unbrokenforest, while the few people, shiftless and destitute of the comfortsof civilization, knew no better than to fight against their own bestinterests.

(p. 095) The majority of the poor whites of the South are veryignorant. Few of them have ever attended school. In Tennessee, by thecensus of 1850, there were more than seventy thousand native-bornAmerican adults who could not read. Not one half of the prisonerscaptured at Donelson could read or write. While the army was lyingbefore Corinth, I visited a Mississippi school-house,—a log buildingchinked with mud, covered with long split oak shingles. It had a hugefireplace, built of stones, and a chimney laid up with sticks and mud.There were openings for two windows, but frames, sash, and glass allwere wanting. There was no floor but the beaten earth,—no desks.Stakes were driven into the ground, upon which slabs of oak were laidfor seats. The teacher's desk was a large dry-goods box.

The State of North Carolina, with a white population of five hundredand fifty-three thousand, had eighty thousand native whites, overtwenty years of age, who had never attended school. In the State ofVirginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and Alabama, fiveStates having a population of two million six hundred and seventythousand, there were two hundred and sixty-two thousand native-bornAmericans, over twenty years of age, unable to read or write!

It will be no easy matter to awaken aspirations in the minds of thisclass. They have been so long inert, so long taught to believe thatlabor is degrading, that rapid progress of Southern society cannot beexpected immediately, unless emigration infuses a new vitality intothe community.

Ignorance was on the increase throughout the South. Public schoolswere of little value where they existed, and the county was sosparsely settled in many places there were not scholars enough to formone. The school fund arising from the sale of public lands was oftenappropriated to other uses. In Arkansas it had been squandered byworthless officials. The planters and wealthy farmers employedteachers in their families. Before the war, thousands of young ladiesfrom the North were thus engaged. They sat at the planter's table andassociated with his daughters; but, however intelligent, refined, oragreeable they might be, they were not admitted as their equals insociety. Such teaching as they received, although the teacher(p. 096) might be faithful, was of little account. The children, proudand haughty, daily hearing of the inferiority of the people of theNorth, were not always disposed to receive instruction, much less tosubmit to correction, at the hands of a "Yankee schoolma'am." To bechivalrous, courteous, high-minded, and generous toward woman has everbeen the boast of the men of the South; but, during the monthsimmediately preceding the outbreak of the Rebellion, insulting andabusive language was freely uttered in the presence of Northernladies. There was rudeness not only of language, but in some instancesof action. The young bloods of the aristocracy, learning to crow asthey heard the old cocks, not unfrequently rose in rebellion againstthe authority of the teacher. Especially was this the case withteachers employed in the public schools. A Yankee schoolmaster orschoolmistress was one who could be insulted with impunity; and sobitter was the hatred, that, weeks before the first gun was fired atSumter, Northern teachers were forced to leave their schools andretire from the Confederacy.

A Mississippi school-house.

To General Sherman more than to any division commander is credit duefor the victory at Pittsburg Landing. When the first volley ofmusketry reverberated through the forest on Sunday morning he leapedinto his saddle. He was conspicuous everywhere, riding along the linesregardless of the bullets which riddled his clothes. Early in thebattle he was wounded in the wrist, but wrapping a bandage round hisarm, continued in the field. Three horses were shot under him. He wasa conspicuous mark for the Rebel riflemen. His fearless example wasinspiring to the men. And so through the long hours of the day he wasable to hold his position by the church, till the giving way ofPrentiss and Hurlburt, nearer the river, made it necessary to fallback. Here Grant first exhibited those qualities of character whichhave made him the great military commander of the age. "We will beatthem yet. They can't pass this ravine," were his words ofencouragement as he selected the final line, leading to the landing.The contest was virtually decided at five o'clock on Sunday afternoon,when Breckenridge attempted to cross the gorge near the river and washurled back with great loss. Johnston and Beauregard made(p. 097)a great mistake in attacking at a point within reach of the gunboats.Had they come in on the Purdy road, between Shiloh Church and Crump'sLanding, in all human probability there would have been a fardifferent record for the historians of the future. Had they attackednorthwest of the church instead of south of it, they would have takenGrant in reverse, and forced him to change the whole front of hisarmy; they would have had no ravine to cross, would have been beyondreach of the gunboats, and would have stood a fair chance of cuttingoff Lewis Wallace, who was at Crump's Landing, from all connectionwith the main army.

The defeat of the Rebels was decisive, and yet Beauregard sent thefollowing despatch to Richmond:—

On the same day he sent a flag of truce to General Grant with thefollowing message, also asking leave to bury the Confederate dead:—

"Sir, at the close of the conflict yesterday, my forces being exhausted by the extraordinary length of the time during which they were engaged with yours on that and the preceding day, and it being apparent that you had received and were still receiving reinforcement, I felt it my duty to withdraw my troops from the immediate scene of the conflict."

From Shiloh to the close of the war, Beauregard's popularity was onthe wane, and the Southern people lost confidence in him. I was atIsland No. 10 when the battle was fought, but joined the army the weekafter.

As the army moved towards Corinth, there was abundant evidence thatthe defeat of the Rebels was most disastrous,—that their retreat washasty. Blankets, knapsacks, haversacks, here and there muskets,wagons, one overturned in a slough, one with its tongue broken, tents,harnesses, oats, corn, flour, tent-poles, were confusedly scatteredalong the way. The carcasses(p. 098) of dead horses tainted the air.There were piles of earth newly heaped above those who died from theirwounds. They fled in a fright on Monday night. I came unexpectedlyupon a little log-hut, on a by-path leading toward Monterey. Two ofMcCook's cavalry rode up in advance of me. A widow woman, middle aged,with a little girl and two little boys occupied it. She kindly gave mea drink of water, and informed me that there were three Confederatewounded in the other room. I looked in upon them for a moment.Suffering had wasted them, and they had no disposition to talk of thepast or the future. The good woman had been kind to them, but she hadseen a great deal of sorrow. On Monday night one hundred wounded werebrought to her house. Her two horses had been seized by the Rebels,her corn eaten, and no equivalent returned. She conversedunreservedly; deplored the war, and wished it over. There were sevennew-made graves in her garden, and in her door-yard a heap of cindersand ashes, and charred brands,—fragments of wagons and tent-poles. Onthe upper Corinth road fifty wounded were lying, cared for by oursurgeons.

I recall some of the scenes of the movement upon Corinth. Here is anopen forest, undulating land with little or no underbrush; thousandsof wagons, all plodding on, not in slow, easy motion, but by fits andstarts, with cutting, slashing, shouting, swearing, a chorus ofprofanity resounding through the forests. A mule sticks fast; hetumbles; his mate falls upon him. The drivers become enraged; thenfollows a generalmelée, a long halt, frantic attempts to startagain, an unloading and reloading. Other trains in the rear, tired ofwaiting, turn to the right or left, perhaps to pass the little sloughsafely, only to meet with a similar mishap ten rods farther along. Abattery struggles along, with twelve horses attached to a single pieceof artillery. The entire forest is cut up by passing teams. Mingledwith the thousands of wagons are regiments. They, too, are inconfusion. Buell's and Grant's forces have become mixed. The divisionshave been ordered to move, but evidently with no prearranged system.As far as the eye can see it is one grand hurly-burly,—one franticstruggle to make headway,—and this for a half-dozen miles. What awaste of horse-flesh!(p. 099) Here are six mules attempting to drawsix boxes of bread,—weight perhaps six hundred pounds. The cavalrybring out their supplies on horses, each cavalryman bringing a bag ofoats. There is cursing, swearing, pounding. The army in Flanders couldnot have been more profane. The brutality of the drivers is terrible.A miserable fellow, destitute of sense and humanity, strikes a muleover the head, felling the animal to the ground. Noble horses areremorselessly cut up by these fiendish beings in human form. There isno check upon their cruelty. You see dead horses everywhere. All thefiner sensibilities become callous. One must see, but not feel. Therewould be pleasure in snatching a whip from the hands of these savagesand giving them a dose of their own medicine.

General Halleck advanced with extreme caution. He built four lines ofbreastworks, each line nearly ten miles long, so that if driven fromone he could fall back to another. He sunk deep wells for water, hewas preparing to be besieged instead of opening a siege.

He doubted all the reports of his scouts,—disbelieved the stories ofnegroes who came to him,—issued Order No. 57, that all "unauthorizedpersons" in his lines should be sent out, especially fugitiveslaves,—threw up redoubts, dragged his heavy siege-guns through themud from the Landing,—planted them behind sodded earthworks, erectedbomb-proof magazines,—issued his final orders to his army of anhundred thousand men,—opened fire from his heavy guns,—threw forwardhis skirmishers, and found—a deserted town!

Joining the fleet upon the Mississippi once more on the 3d of June, Ifound Commodore (now Admiral) Davis in command, Admiral Foote havingbeen relieved at his own request. His wound was painful, and he was sodebilitated that he was unable to discharge his duties. The idea wasgenerally entertained that the Rebels had evacuated Fort Pillow. Theevacuation of Corinth was the basis for expectation of such an event.Fires were seen over the point on the bluffs and beyond, towardRandolph. Of course no one could say what was burning, but from thepast conduct of Rebels, it was reasonable to suppose that theevacuation had taken place, inasmuch as there was an(p. 100) ominoussilence of Rebel batteries. But they suddenly waked up. Ascending tothe pilot-house of the steamer, I could see handfuls of white cloudabove and beyond the dense foliage of the forest. Then there came adull, heavy roar,—boom—boom—boom,—and the nearer explosion of theshells which burst in the air above our gunboats. Not evacuated! Theywere there lively as ever.

This sudden and unexpected demonstration aroused Captain Maynadier,and right merrily answered the mortars till noon. Then there was arespite, while the mortar crews sat down beneath the dark greenfoliage of the forest, sheltered from the burning sun, and ate theirrations, and rested the while.

Seven or eight miles below Craighead Point is Lanier's plantation. Theproprietor being a Secessionist, burned his cotton, but for some causehe had lost faith, or pretended to lose faith, in the Confederacy, anddesired to be permitted to return to his comfortable home, there toremain unmolested. He sent a note to Colonel Fitch, commanding theland forces, soliciting an interview. His request was granted, and heso ingratiated himself into Colonel Fitch's good feeling that hebecame again an occupant of his homestead.

Subsequently it was ascertained that he was supplying the Rebel fleetwith ice, spring chickens, garden vegetables, &c. It was decided tospring a trap upon the gentlemen of the Southern navy. A small partywas sent out by Colonel Fitch, which reached the localityundiscovered. After a few minutes' reconnoissance, eight men werediscovered helping themselves to ice in Mr. Lanier's ice-cellar. Theywere surprised. One resisted, but was shot, and the rest, after ashort parleying, surrendered. They were brought to the Benton, butwere very uncommunicative and sour.

The loss of a lieutenant and seven men was not well relished at FortPillow. Soon after noon the guns on the bluff commenced a vigorous butrandom fire, as if ammunition cost nothing, and it were mere pastimeto burn powder and hurl shell over the point at our fleet. It was verypleasant to see the round shot plump into the water all around ourgunboats, with an occasional shell puffing into cloud overhead, and(p. 101) raining fragments of iron into the river,—for with suchrandom firing, there was but little danger of being hit.

The day had been hot and sultry, but just before nightfall a huge bankof clouds rolled up in the western horizon, and burst with the fury ofa tornado upon the fleet. Some of the transports dragged their anchorsbefore the gale, but all kept up steam; they were not long in makinghead against the breeze. There was but little rain, but a dense cloudof dust was whirled up from the sandbars.

I was surprised to see, when the storm was at its height, two of ourrams steam rapidly down to the point and turn their prows towards theRebel batteries. They disappeared in the whirling dust-cloud,vanishing from sight like ships at sea when night comes on. Theysteamed swiftly down the stream and turned Craighead Point.

Their mission, at such a moment, was to take advantage of thestorm,—of the enveloping dust-cloud,—to ascertain what the Rebelswere doing. We could hear the sudden waking up of heavy guns,—thosethat had spoken to us in the past,—just as, in high party times,great orators hold forth the night before election. The rams werediscovered, and at once the batteries were in a blaze. Then theyquietly steamed across the bend, in face of the batteries, turnedtheir prows up stream, and appeared in sight once more. Onward rolledthe cloud, and the Rebel cannon belched and thundered, firing shot atrandom into the river. Bang—bang—bang,—two or three at atime,—roared the guns. It was amusing, laughable, to see the ramsreturning, and hear the uproar below.

The dust-cloud, with its fine, misty rain, rolled away. The sun shoneonce more, and bridged the Mississippi with a gorgeous rainbow. Whileadmiring it, a Rebel gunboat poked her nose around the point. Then,after a little hesitancy, her entire body, to see what we were up to.She was a black craft, bearing the flag of the Confederacy. Seeing howfar off we were, she steamed boldly past the point, up stream farenough to get a sight of the entire Federal fleet; turned slowly,placed her head downward, to be ready for a quick run home, if needbe; then turned her paddles against the current, and surveyed usleisurely. The Mound City and(p. 102) Cairo being nearest, openedfire upon the craft. A signal was run up from the Benton, andimmediately from the chimneys of the entire fleet rose heavy columnsof blackest smoke, which mingled with the white puffs of steam, androlled away into the blackness of the receding storm. The sun had gonedown.

Unheeding the shot falling close at her bows, or whistling over herdecks, the steamer took her own time and slowly descended the streamand disappeared beyond the jutting headland.

At sunset on the 4th of June, the Rebel batteries opened a fierce andsudden fire upon the gunboats. Then there came heavy explosions,rising columns of smoke, faint and white at first, but increasing involume and blackness. Another,—a third, a fourth,—expanding into onebroad column, all along the height occupied by the Rebel batteries.Daylight was fading away, the lurid flames filled the southern sky,and a heaving, surging bank of smoke and flame laid along thetree-tops of the intervening forest. Occasionally there were flashesand faint explosions, and sudden puffs of smoke, spreading out likeflakes of cotton or fleeces of whitest wool. This was all we couldsee. We were ignorant of what was feeding the flames, whether steamersor bales of cotton, or barracks or tents or houses, but were sure thatit was a burning of that which had cost a pile of Confederate notes.After taking possession of the works in the morning, the fleet pursuedthe retreating Rebels down the river.

It was dark when we came to anchor four miles above the city ofMemphis on the 5th of June.

Gunboats in line.

"I think that we shall have a lively time in the morning," said theAdmiral. My own quarters were on board of the J. H. Dickey, which laya mile up stream. I was astir before daylight on the 6th. The air wasclear,—the sky without a cloud. The stars were fading in the west,and the columns of light were rising in the east. The gunboats—fiveof them—were in a line across the stream, with the steam escapingfrom their pipes. The city was in full view. People were gatheringupon the banks gazing upon the fleet. A dark column of smoke rosefrom above the green foliage of the(p. 103) forest opposite thecity, but whether produced by burning buildings or by the Rebel fleet,was wholly a matter of conjecture.

The tugboat Jessie Benton, tender to the Admiral, came up to theadvance boat, which was lying by our side.

"The Admiral thinks that the Rebel fleet is below the city, and thatwe are to have a fight. You can go down if you want to," said thecaptain.

I was on board in an instant, leaving the other gentlemen of the pressasleep in their state-room. The soldiers were heaving the anchors aswe approached the fleet, shouting in chorus, "Yeave ho! yeave ho!" Thedrummer-boys were beating to quarters, the marines were mustering,officers and sailors all were busy.

The Admiral was standing on the upper deck with Captain Phelps,commanding the Benton, by his side. The Admiral is a tall,well-proportioned man, about fifty years old, with gray hair and blueeyes. He is a perfect gentleman,—kind, courteous, and affable, notonly to his officers, but to the crews. Captain Phelps is shorter, andsmaller in stature. His features are sharply cut. He stands erect,looks upon the preparations with keen eyes, giving orders withprecision and promptness. The Benton in a few moments is ready foraction, so quickly are his orders executed.

"Drop down toward the city, sir, and see if you can discover the Rebelfleet," is the word of the Admiral to our captain.

We pass through the fleet, and move slowly down stream, followed bythe Benton and Carondelet, which drift with the current.

The sun was beginning to gild the spires of the city, and its slantrays came streaming over the waters into our faces. Men, women, andchildren were gathering upon the levee, on foot, on horseback, and incarriages. The crowd became more dense. Were they assembling towelcome us? Should we steam down to them, and ask them what theythought of the Rebellion? The Rebel flag was flying from the cupola ofthe court-house, and from a tall flagstaff on the levee. I rememberedthat on the 6th of May, thirteen months before, on the(p. 104)evening after the secession of the State, the people had torn down thestars and stripes, borne them out to the suburbs of the city, dug agrave, and buried the flag, trampling it in the mire!

Suddenly a Rebel gunboat steamed out into the stream, from the shelterof the Arkansas woods;—another,—another,—till eight had rangedthemselves in two lines of battle. "Helm aport!" shouted our captainto the pilot, and we were rushing up stream again. The Admiral was notquite ready for action, and the Benton and Carondelet returned totheir original position.

The appearance of the Rebel fleet,—the orderly formation of thebattle line,—looked like work. The affair of the 10th of May, whenthe Rebel gunboats stole round Craighead Point above Fort Pillow, andsunk the Cincinnati, was sufficiently spirited to warrant thesupposition that an engagement would be desperate. Several of theRebel boats were fitted out at Memphis, and were manned by the oldrivermen of that city, who would fight with great bravery under theeyes of their fellow-citizens, their wives and sweethearts.

"Let the sailors have breakfast," said the Admiral, who believed infighting on a full stomach. I took mine on deck,—a cup of coffee,hard-tack, and a slice of salt junk,—for the movements in front ofthe city were too interesting to be lost sight of. The Little Rebel,the flag-ship of Commodore Montgomery, was passing from boat to boat.With my glass I could see the officers of the vessels. Montgomery wasissuing his final orders.

Suddenly the Rebel fleet began to move up stream. A flag went up tothe head of the Benton's flagstaff. It was the signal to be ready foraction. Sailors dropped their plates, knives and forks, and sprang totheir guns. The Benton was nearest the Tennessee shore, then theCarondelet, the St. Louis, Louisville, and Cairo. Our own little tugwas close by the flag-ship, keeping its place in the stream by theslow working of its engine.

The Rebel fleet was composed of the Van Dorn, General Price, GeneralBragg, Jeff Thompson, General Lovell, General Beauregard, Sumter, andLittle Rebel,—all gunboats(p. 105) and all rams, built expresslywith a view of butting our fleet out of existence. The Beauregard wasnearest the shore, next the Little Rebel, then the General Price, nextthe General Bragg and the General Beauregard, which composed the frontline. Immediately in rear was the General Lovell, near the Memphisshore, her position being directly in front of the city wharf boat;next the Van Dorn, then the Jeff Thompson, and lastly the Sumter.

How strange, peculiar, and indescribable are one's feelings when goinginto battle! There is a light-heartedness,—a quickening of all thesprings of life. There is thrill in every nerve,—an exhilaration ofspirit,—a tension of every fibre. You see every movement, hear everysound, and think not only of what is before you, but of home, of theloved ones there,—of the possibility that you may never behold themagain. Some men review their lives, and ask themselves if they haveleft anything undone which ought to have been done,—if their liveshave been complete.

The Little Rebel was opposite the Benton. There was a flash,—a puffof smoke from her side,—a screaming of something unseen in the airover my head,—a frightful sound. The shot fell far in our rear.Another puff from the Beauregard, and the shot fell near the Benton. Athird came from the General Price, aimed at the Carondelet, passedvery near her larboard ports, and almost took our own boat in the bow.My fear was all gone. I was in the fight. There was no possibility ofescaping from it. Wherever the boat went I must go. I should be justas safe to keep cool as to be excited. Besides, it was a newexperience,—a new sight,—a grand exhibition. Interest, curiosity,and reason mastered fear. I sat down in an arm-chair on the deckbeside the pilot-house, and made rapid notes of all that I saw. Itranscribe them:—

5.40A. M. Cairo opens with a stern gun,—shot strikes close underhull of Little Rebel. Our boats' bows up stream. Rebels advancingslowly. Bang—bang—bang—bang from each of the vessels. A wholebroadside from Cairo. Another from Louisville. Air full of strangenoises. Shells burst overhead. Pieces raining all round us. Columns ofwater tossed up. Both fleets enveloped in smoke. Very little wind.Splinters(p. 106) thrown out from General Price. Can see a shot-holewith my glass. Rebel fleet half-mile distant. Comes to a stand still.6.00. Queen of the West cutting loose from shore. Monarch also. Greatblack clouds of smoke rolling up from their stacks. Steam hissing fromtheir pipes. Commodore Ellet on the Queen. Stands beside thepilot-house. Sharpshooters looking from loop-holes. Queen wheels outinto stream. Passes between Benton and Carondelet. Are near enough tosay good morning to Commodore Ellet and wish him success. Monarchfollowing Queen, passing between Cairo and St. Louis. 6.25. Rebelsmoving down stream. 6.35. Signal from Benton to round to and come toclose quarters. Queen surging ahead under full speed. Ploughs a widefurrow. Aiming for Beauregard. Rebel fleet all opening on her. Shotcrash through her. Exciting scene. Sharpshooters at work. Beauregardputs her helm down. Sheers off. Queen rushes by. Has missed her aim.Coming round in a curve. Strikes the General Price. Tremendous crash.Men jumping into water. Beauregard falling upon Queen of the West.Another crash. Monarch close at hand. Smashes into Beauregard.Cracking of rifles and muskets. Queen of the West sinking. Monarchthrowing out a warp. Towing her ashore. Benton close upon the GeneralLovell. Shot strikes Lovell in bow. Rips from stem to stern. Waterfull of timber and fragments. Lovell sinking. Man on deck. Left armshattered, crying help! help! help! Commotion on shore. Lovell goesdown with a lurch. River full of poor wretches struggling for life.Throwing up their arms. Stream sweeps them away. Little Rebel fleeingto Arkansas shore. The Jeff Thompson on fire. 7.05. Rebel fleetbroken. Their guns all silent. Beauregard sinking. We run alongside.Rebel officers lay shattered. Sides of vessel spotted with blood. Poolof blood on deck. Crew fled. Taken off by Little Rebel. Help liftwounded Rebel officer on our boat. Thanked us, and said, "You arekinder than my own comrades, for one of them was mean enough to stealmy watch and pick my pocket." Little Rebel run ashore. Crew fleeinginto woods. Cairo gives them parting broadside. Rebels crawling up thebank dripping with water. 7.10. Boats of Benton and Carondeletpicking up the wretches. Van(p. 107) Dorn escaping down stream. 7.25.Fight over. Van Dorn out of sight. Last gun fired. Jeff Thompson onfire in every part. Grand explosion. Whole interior of boat liftedfive hundred feet high. Flames. Volumes of smoke. Bursting shells.Timbers, planks, fragments, raining all around us.

It was a complete annihilation of the Rebel fleet. Not a man was loston our gunboats, and Commodore Ellet was the only one wounded.

The Rebel fleet began the action in good style, but maintained theline of battle a few minutes only. The appearance of the rams threwthem into disorder. On the other hand, the line of battle taken byCommodore Davis was preserved to the end. Everything was as systematicand orderly as in a well-regulated household. The thought occurred, asI saw the steady onward movement of the fleet, which, after oncestarting to close in with the Rebels, did not for an instant slackenspeed, that he was clearing the river of all Rebel obstructions withthe same ease that a housewife sweeps dirt through a doorway. Hisorders were few. The main thing was to get to close quarters.

Embracing an early opportunity to reach the shore, I mingled freelywith the crowd, to see how the thing was relished and to study thefeelings of the people. Some looked exceedingly sour; somedisconsolate; a few were defiant; many of the people were evidentlygood-natured, but deeply humiliated. A gentleman, resident of thecity, informed me that he did not think the people cared anythingabout the Union, or had any desire to return to it, but they had anintense hatred of the tyranny to which they had been subjected, andwere ready to welcome anything which would relieve them.

TheAvalanche of that morning, hardly issued when the conflictbegan, said:—

The "conclusions" had been tried and the people had seen their fleetunceremoniously knocked to pieces.

There were thousands of negroes on the levee, interested spectators ofthe scene. I asked one athletic man what he thought of it? "O massa, Itinks a good deal of it. Uncle Abe's boats mighty powerful. Dey gothrough our boats jus like dey was eggshells." Another one standing byat once became interested in the conversation. Said he, "Captain JeffThompson, he cotch it dis time! He; hi! O how de balls did whiz!"There was an unmistakable sign of pleasure on the countenances of thecolored population.

In fifteen minutes after the occupation of the city, enterprisingnews-boys accompanying the fleet were crying, "Here's the New YorkHerald! Times and Tribune! Chicago and St. Louis papers!"

(p. 109) How wonderfully had the upper Mississippi been repossessed!One by one the Rebel obstructions had been removed. How often had webeen told that they were impregnable! How often that the gunboatswould be destroyed! How often that never would the river be openedtill the Confederacy was a recognized independent power! One shortyear and their labors,—the ditch-digging, the cannon-casting,boat-building, their braggadocio, had come to naught.

The part taken by Commodore Ellet was glorious. He was a brave,gallant, dashing officer, the son of a noble mother, who lived inPhiladelphia. Mr. Stuart, President of the Christian Commission,relates that later in the war he called to see her, at her request, toreceive a large donation. He found a lady eighty-four years of age. Agrandson had been killed in battle, the body had been brought home,and was lying in the house. Said Mrs. Ellet: "I have given my twosons, Commodore Ellet and General Ellet, and four grandchildren to mycountry. I don't regret this gift. If I had twenty sons I would givethem all, for the country must be preserved. And if I was twenty yearsyounger, I would go and fight myself to the last!"

(p. 110) CHAPTER VIII.
INVASION OF MARYLAND.

Great events were transpiring in Virginia. The magnificent army whichpassed down the Potomac in March, which had thrown up the tremendousfortifications at Yorktown, which had fought at Williamsburg, FairOaks, Gaines's Mills, Savage Station, Glendale, and Malvern, was oncemore at Washington. Manassas was a bloody plain. Pope had beendefeated, sacrificed by Fitz John Porter. Day after day the booming ofcannon had been heard in Washington, borne by the breezes along thewooded valley of the Potomac; far away at first, then nearer atChantilly and Fairfax Court-House. Then came the stream of fugitives,and broken, disheartened ranks back to Arlington. The streets ofWashington were thick with hungry, war-worn men. Long lines ofambulances wended into the city, with wounded for the hospitals,already overcrowded. The soldiers had pitiful tales to tell of thescenes of the Peninsula, and of the gory field of Manassas,—how nearthey came to victory,—how Hooker and Heintzelman rolled back thelines of Stonewall Jackson,—how Fitz John Porter lingered within anhour's march of the conflict, tardily coming into line, and movingaway when lightly pressed by the enemy. There were curses loud anddeep breathed against Porter, Pope, and McClellan. The partisans ofPorter and McClellan called Pope a braggadocio, while the soldiers whohad fought with obstinacy, who had doubled up Jackson in the firstday's battle, retorted that McClellan was a coward, who, through allthe engagements on the Peninsula took good care to be out of the reachof hostile bullets or cannon shot. The cause of the Union was gloomy.Burnside had been hurried up from North Carolina to aid in repellingthe invader. The sun shone peacefully through the August days,—summerpassed into autumn,

(p. 111)"And calm and patient Nature kept
Her ancient promise well,
Though o'er her bloom and greenness swept
The battle's breath of hell."

General McClellan at Williamsburg.

Adversity is a test of faith. In those darkest hours there was nofaltering of hope. The heart of the nation was serene. The peoplebelieved that God would give them the victory. The soldiers believedit. Those who were passing away from earth, who with quickened sightbeheld the events of the hour in the light of eternity, trusted thatProvidence would give the victory to their companions in arms.

Colonel Broadhead, of Michigan, lying upon the battle-field ofManassas, with the shadow of death stealing over him, wrote a mosttouching farewell letter to his wife, in which he expressed hisconvictions as to who was responsible for the defeat.

(p. 112) The military authorities were often indebted to newspapercorrespondents for intelligence concerning the movements of theRebels. One of the most indefatigable of the corps was Mr. U. H.Painter, of the PhiladelphiaInquirer. He was at Bristow Stationwhen Stuart made his first appearance in Pope's rear, capturing thebaggage of that officer. Mr. Painter was taken prisoner, but, true tohis profession, kept his eyes and ears open, listening to all that wassaid by Stuart and his subordinate officers. Being in citizen's dress,he managed to slip through the guard, but not till after he hadobtained important information relative to the movements of the enemy.Reaching Washington, he at once sent an attaché of the paper up thePotomac to Point of Rocks, also informed the government that theRebels were intending to invade Maryland. No credence was given to hisassertion; the government believed that Washington was the point aimedat. The Rebels made their appearance at Point of Rocks, the messengeron watch gave Mr. Painter information by telegraph that Stuart wascrossing. That gentleman informed the government of the fact, andforwarded a despatch to his paper. The Washington papers in theafternoon contained semi-official denials of the despatch to theInquirer. But information from the Baltimore and Ohio RailroadCompany that the Rebels had possession of the road at Point of Rockscould not be disputed. Even then the government was slow to believethat the Rebels seriously intended a movement upon Maryland.

General Lee was flushed with success. He had reason to think well ofhimself and of his troops. He had raised the siege of Richmond,transferred the war to the vicinity of Washington, had defeated Popeon the old battle-ground of Manassas, and driven the Union forces intothe defences of the capital. The troops believed that they couldaccomplish anything,—overcome all obstacles,—sweep away the Unionarmy, and march to Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York; and yet Leehad made a miscalculation of the power of endurance on the part of histroops, and the first invasion of the North failed, not only becauseof the courage and tenacity of the Union soldiers at Antietam, butalso because the Rebel army had lost much of its aggressive powerthrough hard marching, constant(p. 113) fighting, and want of food.Jackson had so worn down his troops that in the first day's fight atManassas he was defeated by Hooker and Heintzelman, and had it notbeen for the timely arrival of Longstreet, would have been driven fromthe field. In the second day's fight he could only hold his own, whileLongstreet, meeting with little opposition, was able to turn Pope'sleft flank, and win the victory.

Lee entered Maryland as a liberator, believing that the people wouldriseen masse to welcome him; but he was greatly mistaken.

Taking the train from Philadelphia, I went to Harrisburg, Lancaster,and York in Pennsylvania, and thence into western Maryland. Everywherethe people were arming. All the able-bodied men were drilling. Alllabor was at a stand-still. The fires of the founderies went out; thefarmers left their uncut grain in the field. Men worth millions ofdollars were in the ranks as privates. Members of Congress, professorsof colleges with their classes, iron-masters with their workmen,ministers and the able-bodied men of their congregations, werehastening to the rendezvous. The State Capitol grounds were swarmingwith men, receiving arms and ammunition. It was a glorious exhibitionof patriotism; yet I could but think that they would offer a feebleresistance in the open field to well-drilled troops. At Bunker Hillraw militia stood the fire of British veterans; but such instances ofpluck are rare in history.

Going up the Cumberland Valley I reached Greencastle on the 14th ofSeptember, ten miles from Hagerstown. I could hear a dull and heavybooming of cannon to the south, in the direction of South Mountain;but the Rebels were at Hagerstown, and had made a dash almost up toGreencastle. The only troops in the place were a few companieswatching the border, and momentarily expecting the Rebels to appear.Citizens of Maryland, some from Virginia, Union men, were there, readyto run farther North on the slightest alarm.

The little village was suddenly excited by the cry, "They are coming!""They are coming!" It was not a body of Rebels, however, but the Unioncavalry, which had cut their way out from Harper's Ferry in the nightbefore the pusillanimous(p. 114) surrender of Colonel Miles. Theycrossed the pontoon bridge, moved up the Potomac, through wood-pathsand by-ways, twice coming in contact with the Rebel pickets, andfalling in with Longstreet's ammunition trains between Hagerstown andWilliamsport, consisting of one hundred wagons, which were captured.Many of the teamsters were slaves, who were very glad to see theYankees. They were contented under their capture.

"Were you not frightened when you saw the Yankees?" I asked of one.

"Not de leastest bit, massa. I was glad to see 'em. Ye see, we allwanted to get Norf. De captain of de guard, he tell me to whip up myhorses and get away, but I done cut for de woods right towards deNorf."

He chuckled merrily over it, and said, "I's in de service of de Unionnow."

He was driving the horses with evident satisfaction at the suddenchange in his fortunes.

When John Brown woke the world from its dreaming at Harper's Ferry, hehad an accomplice named Cook, who escaped and concealed himself in themountains of Pennsylvania, but who was hunted down by Fitz Hugh Millerof Chambersburg. Among the Rebel prisoners was this same Fitz Hugh,dressed in a suit of rusty gray, with a black ostrich plume in hishat, sun-burned, dusty, having a hang-dog look. He was a captain inthe Rebel service. The Dutch blood of the citizens, usually as calmand steady in its flow as the rivers of their Fatherland, came up witha rush.

"Hang him! Down with the traitor! Kill him!" they shouted. They rushedto seize him, but the guards kept the populace at bay. The excitementincreased. Miller appealed to the guards to protect him. He wasquickly hurried into the jail, which was strongly guarded. A greatchange had taken place in the opinions of the people. They had beenindifferent to the questions of the hour, but the Rebel raid, by whichthey had lost their horses, had taught them an excellent lesson.Self-interest is sometimes a stimulant to patriotism. They even beganto look with complacency upon what John Brown had done.

General McClellan at the battle of Antietam.

(p. 115) The Rebels evacuated Hagerstown on the morning of the 16th ofSeptember, and an hour later I entered it on the first train, whichwas greeted by the people with shouts and hurrahs and demonstrationsof joy, as if it brought emancipation from long bondage. Some of thecitizens had manifested sympathy with the Rebels. Still there weregroups of excited men in the streets, shouting, "We'll hang thecusses. We've spotted them, and if they ever come back we'll be thedeath of them, as sure as there is a God."

The battle of South Mountain had been fought, and the hostile armieswere concentrating for a trial of strength along the peaceful banks ofthe Antietam.

I was awakened at daylight on the morning of the 17th of September bythe booming of cannon. It was a dull, leaden morning. The clouds hunglow upon the mountains, and swept in drifts along the hillsides. Thecitizens of Hagerstown were astir,—some standing on the house-tops,listening to the increasing thunder of the cannonade, some in thechurch-steeples, others making haste to visit the field of battle. Ihad no horse, but finding a stable-keeper, was soon the owner of one.The horse-dealer was quite willing to dispose of his animals."Horse-flesh is mighty onsartin these days," said he. "The Rebels tookmy best ones, and if they should come here again, I reckon they wouldclean me out."

My first impulse was to push directly down the Sharpsburg turnpike andgain the rear of the Rebels, enter their lines as a citizen, and seethe battle from their side.

"Don't do it, sir," said a citizen.

Upon reflection, it appeared to be good advice, and so turning about(for I had already gone a mile or more in that direction) I took theBoonsboro pike and rode rapidly towards the battle-field. Two or threemiles out I came across a Rebel soldier,—barefoot and bareheaded,pale, sallow, worn out by hard marching, lying under an oak-tree bythe roadside. His gun was by his side. He raised his head and held uphis hand, as if to implore me not to harm him. He belonged to aGeorgia regiment, and had dropped by the way, too feeble to keep hisplace in the ranks. He was taken care of by two citizens.

Striking off from the turnpike in a by-path, then across(p. 116)fields, through oak groves, directed by the roar of battle, descendinga steep hill, and fording the Antietam, I gained the battle-field inrear of the right wing, where Hooker was in command. Passing beyondthe field hospitals, I reached the hill, on Poffenberg's farm.

The fire was raging fearfully in front of Sumner; but Hooker's andMansfield's cannon were silent, cooling their brazen lips after themorning's fever. In the hollow behind the ridge, east of Poffenberg'shouse, the Pennsylvania Reserve Corps—what was left of them—werelying, sad, yet not disheartened. How changed from what they were ayear before, then fifteen thousand strong!

"We cannot lose many more," said one, as I talked of the morning'saction. Gibbons's brigade, of Hooker's corps, had crossed theturnpike, and was holding the ground in the woods between it and thePotomac.

Ascending the ridge, I came upon Battery B, Fourth Artillery, alsoCooper's and Easton's Pennsylvania batteries, the New Hampshire Ninthand Rhode Island Fifth,—thirty pieces bearing on the cornfield andthe wood-crowned hill, where, alas! a thousand of as brave men as everbreathed were lying, who just before had moved to meet the enemy.

The firing was hot and heavy a few rods south.

The fight began with the pickets in the night, and was taken up by theartillery at daylight. The Rebels had concentrated a heavy force ontheir left, we on our right, because the lay of the land required it,the right being our strongest ground, and their left their weakest.The ridge behind Poffenberg's house was the door-post on which ourfortunes hinged. Not so with them,—theirs was a double door, itshinge being in the woods bordering the turnpike south of thetoll-house.

Hooker gave Meade, with the Pennsylvania Reserves, the right, Rickettsthe left, and placed Doubleday in support in rear. Mansfield joinedHooker's left, but was an hour behind time. Sumner was slow to comeinto action. Hooker advanced, drove in the Rebel pickets, found aRebel battery on his extreme right, which, as soon as he came withinits range began to plough him with a flanking fire. Meade obliqued tothe right, poured in a few volleys, and drove the enemy across(p. 117) the turnpike. This was the extreme left of the enemy's line.Hooker crossed the turnpike a few rods north of Poffenberg's, marchedthrough the fields to the ridge by the cornfield. Having obtainedpossession of the ridge east of Poffenberg's, he planted his batteriesand opened a fierce cannonade upon the Rebels.

The ground in front of Hooker was the scene of repeated struggles. Inthe afternoon the Rebels made a desperate attempt to regain what theyhad lost. They came down through the cornfield, west of the turnpike,under cover of their batteries. Hooker, Dana, Sedgwick, Hartsuff,Richardson, and Mansfield, all general officers, had been carried fromthe field wounded. General Howard was in command of the right wing. Iwas talking with him, when an officer dashed up and said, "General,the Rebels are coming down on us."

We were in the open field, a few rods southeast of Poffenberg's barn.General Howard rode forward a few steps, looked through the leafybranches of the oaks along the turnpike. We could see the dark linesof the enemy moving through the cornfield. "Tell the batteries to givethem the heaviest fire possible," he said. It was spoken asdeliberately as if he had said to his servant, "Bring me a glass ofwater." How those thirty pieces of artillery opened! Crack! crack!crack! and then a volley by artillery! How those gray lines wavered,swayed to and fro, and melted away!

In Poffenberg's door-yard, along the turnpike, were two noble horses,both killed by the same cannon-shot, smashing the head of one andtearing the neck of the other. The dead of the Pennsylvania Reserveslaid under the palings of the garden fence. The gable of the house wastorn to pieces by a shell. In the field in front dead men in blue anddead men in gray were thickly strown; and still farther out, along thenarrow lane which runs southwest from the house, they were as thick asthe withered leaves in autumn. How the battle-storm howled throughthose woods, fiercer than the blasts of November! It was a tornadowhich wrenched off the trunks of oaks large enough for a ship'skeelson,—riving them, splintering them with the force of athunderbolt.

If the blow which Hooker gave had been a little more powerful,—if(p. 118) Mansfield had been ordered in at the same instant withHooker,—if Sumner had fallen upon the Rebel centre at the sametime,—there can be but little doubt as to what would have been theresult. But the battle of Antietam was fought by piecemeal. Hookerexhausted his strength before Mansfield came up; Mansfield wasrepulsed before Sumner came in; while Burnside, who had the mostdifficult task of all, was censured by McClellan for not carrying thebridge early in the morning. Yet Franklin, who arrived at noon, wasonly partially engaged, while Porter was ordered to stand a silentspectator through the day. The several corps of the Union army werelike untrained teams of horses,—each pulled with all its strength,but no two succeeded in pulling together.

It was not far from twelve o'clock when the arrangements werecompleted for Sumner's movement. The artillery prepared the way foradvance, by pouring in a heavy fire from all directions. Theconfiguration of the ground admitted of this. The cornfield slopedtoward the Antietam, and by careful scrutiny the Rebels could be seenlying down to avoid the shot and shells. It was a moment of anxiousexpectation to us who beheld the movement.

The divisions moved past the cemetery, past Roulet's house, the leftof French's and the right of Richardson's, joining in the ravine. Afew rods beyond the house the Rebel skirmishers opened a galling fire.Our own advanced rapidly, drove them in through the nearest cornfield.They fled to the road, and the field beyond.

The road is narrow, and by long usage and heavy rains, has become atrench, a natural rifle-pit about two and a half feet deep. The Rebelshad thrown off the top rails of the fence in front, and strengthenedthe position by making them intoabatti,—imitating the example setby General Stark on the northeastern slope of Bunker Hill, in 1775.

The roadway was their first line; their second was in the corn, fiveor six rods farther west.

The sunken road.

The Union troops advanced in front of the road, when up rose the firstRebel line. The fence became a line of flame and smoke. The cornfieldbeyond, on higher ground, was a sheet of fire. With a rush andcheer, the men in blue moved up(p. 119) to the fence, ploughedthrough and through by the batteries above, cut and gashed by theleaden hail, thrust the muzzles of their guns into the faces of theRebels and fired.

The first Rebel line was nearly annihilated, and the dead lyingbeneath the tasselled corn were almost as many as the golden ears uponthe stalks. Visiting the spot when the contest was over, I judged froma little counting that a thousand of the enemy's dead were in the roadand the adjoining field. A shell had thrown seven into one heap,—someon their faces, some on their backs,—fallen as a handful of strawswould fall when dropped upon the ground. But not they alone suffered.The bloody tide which had surged through all the morning between theridges above, along the right, had flowed over the hill at thisnoontide hour. The yellow soil became crimson; the russet corn-leavesturned to red, as if autumn had put on in a moment her richest glory.How costly! Five thousand men,—I think I do not exaggerate,—woundedand dead, lay along that pathway and in the adjoining field![6]

To Burnside was assigned the duty of carrying the stone bridge, twomiles below the turnpike, and taking the batteries which were inposition south of Sharpsburg. It was a difficult task. A high-bankedstream, bordered by willows; a narrow bridge; a steep hill; clearedlands, with no shelter from the batteries in front and on both hisflanks, after he should have succeeded in crossing the stream.

Burnside planted his cannon on the high hills or ridges east of theriver, and kept them in play a long time before any attempt was madeon the bridge by infantry. The Rebel batteries replied, and there wasan incessant storm of shot and shell.

The road on the eastern side winds down a ravine to the river, whichis an hundred feet below the summit of the hills where his artillerywas posted. It is a narrow path, with a natural embankment on theright hand, covered with oaks.(p. 120) There is a piece of bottomland eight or ten rods wide on the eastern side of the river. Thebridge is narrow and about seventy-five feet long. After crossing thestream the road runs diagonally up the bank toward the north. On thewestern side are willows fringing the stream, their graceful branchesbending down to the water, and covering the opposite shore. The bankis very abrupt. A small force on either side can hold the bridgeagainst a large body of men.

The bridge was carried in the afternoon by a desperate charge. I waswatching operations in the centre at the time, and saw only the smokeof the contest on the left, and heard its deafening roar. Riding downthere later in the day, I witnessed the last attack. Both parties hadput on new vigor at the sunset hour. The fire kindled along the line.Far upon the right was the smoke of thirty cannon, rising in a whitesulphurous cloud. The woods opposite, where the Rebel batteries were,flamed like a furnace. A little nearer Sumner's artillery wasthundering and hurling its bolts into the Rebels by the Dunker church.Ayers's battery was pouring a deadly fire into the cornfield, west ofRoulet's, where the Rebel line was lying under cover. Above, on thehighest hillock, a half-mile from Sharpsburg, a heavy Rebel batteryboomed defiance. Richardson's artillery, immediately in front, wassending shells upon the hill and into Sharpsburg, where hay-stacks,houses and barns were burning, rolling up tall pillars of cloud andflame to heaven. At our left Burnside's heavy guns worked mightily,answered by the opposing batteries. The musketry had ceased, save afew volleys rolling from beyond the willows in the valley, and alittle dripping, like rain-drops after a shower. It was a continuousroll of thunder. The sun went down, reddened in the smoky haze.

Battle of Antietam.

After the retreat of Lee, I rode over the ground occupied by theRebels, and surveyed the field from every point. The dead were thicklystrewn. A Rebel battery had occupied the ground around the Dunkerchurch, a small brick building on the turnpike, a mile south ofPoffenberg's. At its door-step lay a major, a captain, and eleven men,all dead. A wounded horse, unable to lie down, was standing near adismantled caisson. Almost human was the beseeching look of the dumb(p. 121) beast! Near by was a soldier lying with his eyes fixed onheaven. He had died calmly. His pocket Bible was open upon his breast.Taking it up my eye fell upon the words: "Though I walk through thevalley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil, for thou art withme; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." All the turmoil of lifewas over. He had done his duty, and had passed on to his reward.[7]

Lee recrossed the Potomac without molestation from McClellan, and thetwo armies went into camp, as if mutually agreed upon having a seasonof rest after the hardships of the campaign.

For the boys in blue.

(p. 122) CHAPTER IX.
INVASION OF KENTUCKY.

Simultaneous with Lee's advance into Maryland was that of GeneralBragg into Kentucky. As there were no indications that McClellan wouldfollow Lee into Virginia, I hastened to Kentucky to observe the eventstranspiring in that department. General Buell was still in command ofthe Union forces. He had been lying quiet through the summer,occupying Chattanooga on the east, Florence on the west, and spreadinghis troops over a large territory. There were detachments atNashville, McMinnville, Murfreesboro, and Mumfordville. This force inTennessee was piled in the form of a pyramid, Florence and Chattanoogabeing the base and Nashville the apex. In addition there was a forceunder General Morgan holding Cumberland Gap, a passage in themountains at the extreme southwestern part of Virginia, where the OldDominion rests like the point of a ploughshare against the mountainswhich separate it from Kentucky. Since Daniel Boone passed through it,the Gap has been the great thoroughfare between the West and East. Thedistance from the Gap, where Morgan was keeping watch and ward, toChattanooga, is about one hundred and forty miles. Through thisgateway the Rebels resolved to enter Kentucky, replenish their stores,make a demonstration upon Cincinnati, capture Louisville, cut offBuell's supplies and communications, outflank him, destroy his army,transfer the war to the Ohio River, and redeem Kentucky. Buell was inrepose, unconscious of General Bragg's intentions.

Bragg formed his army in three columns near Knoxville,—one to moveupon the Gap, approaching it from the west, the second, under KirbySmith, to move directly upon Lexington, Danville, and Frankfort, thethird to capture the six thousand at Mumfordville, and then joiningthe second division at Lexington,(p. 123) push on in conjunction withit to Louisville. John Morgan, the commander of the Rebel cavalry,moved in advance and captured Morgan's supply trains on the 17th ofAugust. It was the first intimation General Morgan or Buell had of theintentions of the Rebels. Morgan knew not what was going on in hisrear. The Rebels prudently refrained from attacking him. The passwould fall into their hands when all their plans were ripe. Morganheld his position till the 17th of September, when, having exhaustedhis provisions, he spiked his guns, destroyed the fortifications, andall his tent equipage, and marched north to the Ohio River, throughthe mountains, reaching it without loss.

The centre column of the Rebels moved upon Frankfort, gathering upcattle, horses, goods of all kinds, cloth, clothes, boots, shoes,grain, and everything which could minister to their comfort. Theyvisited the wealthy farmers of the bluegrass region, selected the bestKentucky stock, purchased all the new wheat, set the flour-mills ahumming, keeping the millers at it day and night. Never were millersso busy, each miller tending his grinding with a Rebel bayonet at hisdoor, the glittering of which reminded him that he had a duty toperform to the Confederacy.

At Frankfort, the capital of the State, they took possession of thestate-house, inaugurated a governor, had a grand procession, withspeeches, and a banquet, and a general gala-day. They invited themerchants to open their stores, made princely purchases of goods,paying liberally in the legal currency of the Confederacy. They sentoff long lines of wagons toward the South laden with supplies. TheKentucky farmers were relieved of their negroes as well as of theirhorses. Theytook the negroes, saying to their masters, "Swearallegiance to the Confederacy and you shall be paid, but otherwisethey shall be confiscated."

Thousands of slaves fled across the Ohio, for fear of being captured.Thus the war was a double reverse acting mill, grinding slavery topowder in the State. For six weeks the Rebels had it all their ownway.

The third column moved upon Mumfordville, surprised the six thousandmen in that place, and pushed on towards Louisville.(p. 124) TheRebel forces were far on their way before Buell awoke from hisdreaming. He gathered in his divisions, and keeping west of Bragg,made haste to reach Louisville. If after taking Mumfordville Bragg hadpushed on rapidly, he doubtless could have taken Louisville, butwaiting a day, the golden opportunity was lost. He was evidently wellpleased with his reception at Lexington and Frankfort. A Rebel writerthus describes the former:—

"The entrance of our troops into Lexington was the occasion of the most inspiriting and touching scenes. Streets, windows, and gardens were filled with ladies and little girls with streamers of red and blue ribbons and flags with stars. Beautiful women seized the hard brown hands of our rough and ragged soldiers, and with tears and smiles thanked them again and again for coming into Kentucky and freeing them from the presence and insults of the hated and insolent Yankees. For hours the enthusiasm of the people was unbounded. At every corner of the streets baskets of provisions and buckets of water were placed for the refreshment of our weary soldiers, and hundreds of our men were presented with shoes and hats and coats and tobacco by the grateful people. Private residences were turned for the time into public houses of entertainment, free to all who could be persuaded to go and eat. But if the reception of the infantry was enthusiastic, the tears, the smiles, and shouts and cheers of wild delight which greeted General John Morgan's cavalry, as they came dashing through the streets amidst clouds of dust, was without a parallel. The wildest joy ruled the hours. The bells of the city pealed forth their joyous welcome, whilst the waving of thousands of white handkerchiefs and tiny confederate flags attested the gladness and delight of every heart."[8]

There were also gay times in Frankfort. Mr. Harris was inauguratedProvisional Governor of the State by special order of General Bragg,which read as follows:—

A host of generals graced the occasion,—Bragg, Kirby Smith, Buckner,Stevenson, Claiborne, Heath, Churchill, Preston Smith, and WilliamPreston. The Capital Hotel, where the politics of the country werewont to be discussed by Henry Clay, Crittenden, and other great lightsof former days, was crowded by the chivalry of the South. The landlordfound his larder depleting, his liquors disappearing, but he hadbaskets full of Confederate notes, in exchange for food, fire, andlodging, liquors and cigars. The ladies kept open house, and invitedthe Rebel officers to tea on the auspicious occasion.

Meanwhile General Dumont's division of Union troops, and GeneralSill's division were approaching Frankfort from the north. GeneralBragg was dining with the accomplished Mrs. Preston, when a messengerdashed into town with the intelligence of the advance of the Uniontroops. Governor Harris,—six hours a Governor,—packed his carpet-bagin great haste. The brilliant throng of Rebel officers mounted theirhorses, the ladies took down their miniature flags, while the citizensof the place prepared to change their politics. The Rebel force in thetown consisted of two regiments of infantry and one of cavalry,guarding the turnpike bridge across the Kentucky river.

The Union cavalry came thundering down the hill. It was in theevening; and without halting to ascertain who or what they were toencounter, dashed across the bridge. The Rebels gave one irresolutevolley and fled precipitately from the town, which was once more andfor a finality in the hands of the Union men. Four days later thebattle of Perryville was fought, and then the Rebels retired from theState with their booty.

Their visit was at once a curse and a blessing,—a curse, because ofthe havoc, the desolation, and pillage; a blessing, because it broughtKentuckians to a sharp corner. The President had just issued hisProclamation of freedom, and Kentucky(p. 126) slaveholders weregrumbling, and were ready to shake hands with the Rebels. They hadwelcomed their Southern friends, who had robbed and plundered themwithout stint.

There was a marked change visible in the opinions of most men. Thehigh-handed outrages, the authorized thieving, the forcing ofConfederate notes upon the people, making it treason to refuse them inexchange for horses, cattle, clothes, and provisions, the confiscationof negroes, the grotesque appearance of the Rebel soldiers,—

"Some in rags, some in tags,
But none in velvet gowns,"—

as reads the old nursery rhyme, dissipated the illusion in which manymen had indulged. Bunyan's two pilgrims, Christian and Faithful, met ablack man clothed in white garments, as they journeyed over theenchanted ground, who, with many fair speeches, would have turned themfrom the glittering gates of the golden city; but when the robedropped from his limbs they saw that he was hideous, and that tofollow him was to go back again to the city of Destruction. SoKentucky had seen the flatterer. The white robe had fallen; he wasrepulsive. Ladies who wished to welcome the Rebels as soldiers of thechivalrous South shrank with horror from the filthy crowd. Theenchantment was ended. Loyalty was taking root.

Yet there were many old planters, partisans of an effete party,—onceDemocratic in principle,—who clung to slavery with a tenacity likethat of barnacles to a worm-eaten hulk. The LouisvilleJournalcondemned the Proclamation, giving utterance to the voice of theslaveholders, declaring that the Proclamation would have no bindingforce in that State; but the soldiers hailed it with joy. They feltthat slavery was the cause of the war, and were longing to see itoverthrown. Bragg having left the State, many masters began to look uptheir slaves, some of whom had fled to the Union lines for protection.

One wing of the army was resting at Williamstown, about twenty-fivemiles south of Cincinnati, in which was a division commanded byGeneral Q. A. Gillmore; then a brigadier who,(p. 127) in common withmany other officers, believed in what was called the "Kentuckypolicy." When the army began a forward movement in pursuit of Bragg,General Gillmore issued an order, known as General Order No. 5, whichreads as follows:—

Among the regiments of the division was the Twenty-Second Wisconsin,Colonel Utley, an officer who had no sympathy with slavery. He had acool head and a good deal of nerve. He had read the Proclamation ofPresident Lincoln, and made up his mind to do what was right,recognizing the President as his Commander-in-Chief, and not the Stateof Kentucky. There were negroes accompanying his regiment, and he didnot see fit to turn them out. Three days later he received thefollowing note:—

Colonel Utley, instead of sending the men, replied:—

The note was despatched to division head-quarters. Soon after anofficer called upon Colonel Utley.

"You are wanted, sir, at General Gillmore's quarters."

Colonel Utley made his appearance before General Gillmore.

(p. 128) "I sent you an order this evening."

"Yes, sir, and I refused to obey it."

"I intend to be obeyed, sir. I shall settle this matter at once. Ishall repeat the order in the morning."

"General, to save you the trouble and folly of such a course, let mesay that I shall not obey it."

The Colonel departed. Morning came, but brought no order for thedelivery of the contrabands to their former owner.

As the regiment passed through Georgetown, a large number of slavesbelonging to citizens of that place fled from their masters, and foundshelter in the army. Some of the officers who had less nerve thanColonel Utley gave them up, or permitted the owners to come and takethem. A Michigan regiment marching through the town had its linesentered by armed citizens, who forcibly took away their slaves.Colonel Utley informed the inhabitants that any attempt to takecontrabands from his lines would be resisted.

"Let me say to you, gentlemen," he said to a delegation of thecitizens, "that my men will march with loaded muskets, and if anyattempt is made upon my regiment, I shall sweep your streets withfire, and close the history of Georgetown. If you seriously intend anysuch business, I advise you to remove the women and children."

The regiment marched the next morning with loaded muskets. Thecitizens beheld their negroes sheltered and protected by a forest ofgleaming bayonets, and wisely concluded not to attempt the recovery ofthe uncertain property.

The day after its arrival in Nicholasville, a large, portly gentleman,lying back in an elegant carriage, rode up to the camp, and making hisappearance before the Colonel, introduced himself as Judge Robertson,Chief Justice of the State of Kentucky.

"I am in pursuit of one of my boys, who I understand is in thisregiment," he said.

"You mean one of your slaves, I presume?"

"Yes, sir. Here is an order from the General, which you will seedirects that I may be permitted to enter the lines and get the boy,"said the Judge, with great dignity.

"I do not permit any civilian to enter my lines for any suchpurpose," said the Colonel.

Slaves fleeing to the Army for protection.

(p. 129) The Judge sat down, not greatly astonished, for thereputation of the Twenty-Second Wisconsin, as an abolition regiment,was well established. He began to argue the matter. He talked of thecompromises of the Constitution, and proceeded to say:—

"I was in Congress, sir, when the Missouri Compromise was adopted, andvoted for it; but I am opposed to slavery, and I once wrote an essayon the subject, favoring emancipation."

"Well, sir, all that may be. If you did it from principle, it wascommendable; but your mission here to-day gives the lie to yourprofessions. I don't permit negro-hunters to go through my regiment;but I will see if I can find the boy, and if he is willing to go Iwill not hinder him."

The Colonel went out and found the negro Joe, a poor, half-starved,undersized boy, nineteen years old. He told his story. He belonged tothe Judge, who had let him to a brutal Irish man for $50 a year. Hehad been kicked and cuffed, starved and whipped, till he could standit no longer. He went to the Judge and complained, but had been sentback only to receive a worse thrashing for daring to complain. At lasthe took to the woods, lived on walnuts, green corn, and apples,sleeping among the corn-shucks and wheat-stacks till the army came.There were tears in Joe's eyes as he rehearsed his sufferings.

The Colonel went back to the Judge.

"Have you found him?"

"I have found a little yellow boy, who says that he belongs to a manin Lexington. Come and see him."

"This man claims you as his property, Joe; he says that you ran awayand left him," said the Colonel.

"Yes, sah, I belongs to him," said Joe, who told his story again in aplain, straightforward manner, showing a neck scarred and cut by thewhip.

"You can talk with Joe, sir, if you wish," said the Colonel.

"Have not I always treated you well?" the Judge asked.

"No, massa, you hasn't," was the square, plump reply.

"How so?"

"When I came to you and told you I couldn't stand it any longer, yousaid, 'Go back, you dog!'"

"Did not I tell you that I would take you away?"

(p. 130) "Yes, massa, but you never did it."

The soldiers came round and listened. Joe saw that they were friends.The Judge stood speechless a moment.

"Joe," said the Colonel, "are you willing to go home with yourmaster?"

"No, sah, I isn't."

"Judge Robertson, I don't think you can get that boy. If you think youcan, there he is, try it. I shall have nothing to do with it," saidthe Colonel, casting a significant glance around to the soldiers whohad gathered about them.

The Judge saw that he could not lay hands upon Joe. "I'll see whetherthere is any virtue in the laws of Kentucky," he said, with greatemphasis.

"Perhaps, Judge, it will be as well for you to leave the camp. Some ofmy men are a little excitable on the subject of slavery."

"You are a set of nigger-stealers," said the Judge, losing his temper.

"Allow me to say, Judge, that it does not become you to call usnigger-stealers. You talk about nigger-stealing,—you who live on thesweat and blood of such creatures as Joe! Your dwellings, yourchurches, are built from the earnings of slaves, beaten out of them bybrutal overseers. You hire little children out to brutes,—you clothethem in rags,—you hunt them with hounds,—you chain them down to toiland suffering! You call us thieves because we have given your Joe foodand protection! Sir, I would rather be in the place of Joe than inthat of his oppressor!" was the indignant outburst of the Colonel.

"Well, sir, if that is the way you men of the North feel, the Unionnever can be saved,—never! You must give up our property."

"Judge, allow me to tell you what sort of Unionism I have found inKentucky. I have not seen a half-dozen who did not damn the President.You may put all the pure Unionism in Kentucky in one scale, and aten-pound nigger baby in the other, and the Unionism will kick thebeam. Allow me to say, further, that if the perpetuity or restorationof the Union depends upon my delivering to you with my own hands thatlittle(p. 131) half-starved dwarf of a slave, the Union may be castinto hell with all the nations that forget God!"

"The President's Proclamation is unconstitutional. It has no bearingon Kentucky. I see that it is your deliberate intention to set atnaught the laws," said the Judge, turning away, and walking to GeneralGillmore's head-quarters.

"You are wanted at the General's head-quarters," said an aid, soonafter, to Colonel Utley.

The Colonel obeyed the summons, and found there not only JudgeRobertson, but several fine old Kentucky gentlemen; also ColonelCoburn, the commander of the brigade, who agreed with General Gillmorein the policy then current. Colonel Coburn said:—

"The policy of the commanding generals, as I understand it, is simplythis: that persons who have lost slaves have a right to hunt for themanywhere in the State. If a slave gets inside of the lines of aregiment, the owner has a right to enter those lines, just as if noregiment was there, and take away the fugitive at his own pleasure."

"Precisely so. The Proclamation has no force in this State," said theJudge.

"I regret that I am under the necessity of differing in opinion frommy commanding officers, to whom I am ready at all times to renderstrictmilitary obedience, but (the Colonel raised his voice)Ireverse the Kentucky policy! I hold that the regiment standsprecisely as though there were no slavery in Kentucky. We came here asfree men, from a free State, at the call of the President to uphold afree government. We have nothing to do with slavery. The Twenty-SecondWisconsin, while I have the honor to command it, will never be aregiment of nigger-catchers. I will not allow civilians to enter mylines at pleasure; it is unmilitary. Were I to permit it, I should bejustly amenable to a court-martial. Were I to do it, spies might entermy lines at all times and depart at pleasure."

There was silence. But Judge Robertson was loath to go away withouthis flesh and blood. He made one more effort. "Colonel, I did not cometo your lines as a spy, but with an order from your General. Are youwilling that I should go and get my boy?"

(p. 132) The Colonel reflected a moment.

"Yes, sir, and I will remain here. I told you before that I shouldhave nothing to do with it."

"Do you think that the men will permit me to take him?"

"I have no orders to issue to them in the matter; they will do just asthey please."

"Will you send the boy into some other regiment?"

This was too much for the Colonel. He could no longer restrain hisindignation. Looking the Judge squarely in the face, he vented hisanger in scathing words.

The Judge departed, and at the next session of the Court Colonel Utleywas indicted for man-stealing; but he has not yet been brought totrial. The case is postponed till the day of Judgment, when arighteous verdict will be rendered.

The Judge returned to Lexington, called a public meeting, at which hemade a speech, denouncing the Twenty-Second Wisconsin as an abolitionregiment, and introducing resolutions declaring that the Union nevercould be restored if the laws of the State of Kentucky were thus setat defiance. This from the Judge, while his son was in the Rebelservice, fighting against the Union.

But the matter was not yet over. A few days later, the divisioncontaining the Twenty-Second Wisconsin, commanded by General Baird,vice Gillmore, was ordered down the river. It went to Louisville,followed by the slave-hunters, who were determined to have theirnegroes.

Orders were issued to the colonels not to take any contrabands onboard the boats, and most of them obeyed. Colonel Utley issued noorders.

A citizen called upon him and said,—

"Colonel, you will have trouble in going through the city unless yougive up the negroes in your lines."

The regiment was then on its march to the wharf.

"They have taken all the negroes from the ranks of the otherregiments, and they intend to take yours."

The Colonel turned to his men and said, quietly, "Fix bayonets."

The regiment moved on through the streets, and reached the GaultHouse, where the slaveholders had congregated. A half-dozen(p. 133)approached the regiment rather cautiously, but one bolder than therest sprang into the ranks and seized a negro by the collar.

A dozen bayonets came down around him, some not very gently. He let gohis hold and sprang back again quite as quickly as he entered thelines.

There was a shaking of fists and muttered curses, but the regimentpassed on to the landing, just as if nothing had happened.

General Granger, who had charge of the transportation, had issuedorders that no negro should be allowed on the boats without freepapers.

General Baird saw the negroes on the steamer, and approaching ColonelUtley, said,—

"Why, Colonel, how is this? Have all of these negroes free papers?"

"Perhaps not all, but those who haven't,have declared theirintentions!" said the Colonel.

The Twenty-Second took transportation on the steamer Commercial. Thecaptain of the boat was a Kentuckian, who came to Colonel Utley ingreat trepidation, saying: "Colonel, I can't start till those negroesare put on shore. I shall be held responsible. My boat will be seizedand libelled under the laws of the State."

"I can't help that, sir; the boat is under the control and in theemploy of the government. I am commander on board, and you havenothing to do but to steam up and go where you are directed. OtherwiseI shall be under the necessity of arresting you."

The captain departed and began his preparations. But now came thesheriff of Jefferson County with a writ. He wanted the bodies ofGeorge, Abraham, John, and Dick, who were still with theTwenty-Second. They were the runaway property of a fellow named Hogan,who a few days before had figured in a convention held at Frankfort,in which he introduced a series of Secession resolutions.

"I have a writ for your arrest, but I am willing to waive all actionon condition of your giving up the fugitives which you are harboringcontrary to the peace and dignity of the State," said the sheriff.

(p. 134) "I have other business to attend to just now. I am underorders from my superiors in command to proceed down the river withoutany delay, and must get the boat under way," said the Colonel, bowing,politely.

"But, Colonel, you are aware of the consequences of deliberatelysetting at defiance the laws of a sovereign State," said the sheriff.

"Are you all ready there?" said the Colonel, not to the sheriff, butto the officer of the day who had charge of affairs.

"Yes, sir."

"Then cast off."

The game of bluff had been played between the Twenty-Second Wisconsinand the State of Kentucky, and Wisconsin had won.

The sheriff jumped ashore. There were hoarse puffs from thesteam-pipes, the great wheels turned in the stream, the Commercialswung from her moorings, and the soldiers of Wisconsin floated downthe broad Ohio with the stars and stripes waving above them.

By their devotion to principle, by the firmness of their commander,they had given the cause of Freedom a mighty uplift in the old Stateof Kentucky.

I recall an evening in the Louisville Hotel. Officers of thearmy,—majors, captains, lieutenants,—were there from camp, chattingwith the ladies. It was a pleasant company,—an hour of comfort andpleasure. The evening was chilly, and a coal-fire in the grate sentout its genial warmth. The cut glass of the chandeliers sparkled withruby, purple, and amethyst in the changing light. In the anteroomsthere were chess-players absorbed in the intellectual game, with aknot of silent spectators.

At the dinner-table Mr. Brown was my servant. His complexion was ashade darker than mine. He served me faithfully, wearing a whitecotton jacket and apron. He entered the parlor in the evening, notwearing his hotel uniform, but faultlessly dressed as a gentleman. Hebrought not a lady, but a double-bass viol. He was followed by twofellow-servants, one with a violin, the other with a banjo. The onewith the violin was a short, thick-set, curly-headed African,—black(p. 135) as the King of Dahomey. The other was whiter than most of theofficers in the room.

They were the hotel table-waiters and also a quadrille band. Theviolinist did not know B flat from F sharp. Musical notation was Greekto him; but he had rhythm, a quick, tuneful ear, and an appreciationof the beautiful in music rarely found among the many thousands whotake lessons by the quarter. He did not give us Old Tar River, UncleNed, and O Susannah, but themes from Labitsky and Donizetti,—melodieswhich once heard are long remembered. His two comrades accompanied himin time and tune. For the young ladies and officers it was adelightful hour. Mr. Brown was the factotum, calling the changes withas much steadiness and precision, while handling the double-bass, asHall or Dodworth at the grand ball to the Prince of Wales. So we wereserved by four thousand dollars' worth of body and soul!

The doorway leading into the hall was a portrait-gallery of duskyfaces,—Dinah, Julia, Sam, and James; old aunt Rebecca, with a yellowturban on her head; young Sarah, three feet high, bare-legged,bare-armed, in a torn, greasy calico dress,—her only garment; youngToney, who had so much India-rubber in his heels that he caperedirrepressibly through the hall and executed a double-shuffle. Whilethe grand stairway, leading to the halls above was piled with dark,eager faces, reminding one of the crowded auditory looking uponBelshazzar's feast in the great picture of Allston,—fifteen, twenty,thirty thousand dollars' worth of bones, blood, and brains!

The violinist was in trouble. The screws would not stick, and in spiteof his spitting in the holes, his twisting and turning, he was obligedto stop in the middle of the dance. He made strenuous efforts to keephis instrument in tune. A man in shoulder-straps, leading afair-haired, graceful maiden, his partner in the dance, with aclenched fist and an oath informed the musician that if he didn't fixthat quick he would knock his head off! It was a little glimpse of thedivine, beneficent missionary institution ordained of God for theelevation of the sons of Ham!

It was not difficult to make a transition in thought to a South(p. 136) Carolina rice-swamp or Louisiana sugar-plantation or Arkansascotton-field, where a master's passion was law, and where knocking offmen's heads was not so rare a performance.

Among the dusky crowd gazing in upon the waltzers was a girl, sixteenor seventeen years old,—a brunette, with cherry lips, sparkling blackeyes, and cheeks as fresh and fair as apricots. She was a picture ofhealth. She gazed with evident delight, and yet there was always uponher countenance a shade of sadness. In form and feature she was almostwholly Anglo-Saxon, and more than Anglo-Saxon in beauty.

I met her in the hall during the day having charge of a young child,and had marked her beauty, ease, grace, and intelligence, and supposedthat she was a boarder at the hotel,—the daughter or young wife ofsome officer, till seeing her the central figure of the dusky group.Then the thought came flashing, "She is a slave!"

She could have joined in the cotillon with as much grace as any of thefair dancers.

Her father, I learned, was a high-born Kentuckian, and her grandfatherwas from one of the first families of Virginia; but hergreat-great-great-grandmother was born in Africa, and that was thereason why she stood a silent spectator in the hall, instead ofwhirling with the gay colonel in the dance.

(p. 137) CHAPTER X.
FROM HARPER'S FERRY TO FREDERICKSBURG.

Returning to Virginia I accompanied the army of the Potomac in themarch from Berlin and Harper's Ferry to the Rappahannock. The roadswere excellent, the days mild, the air clear. Beautiful beyonddescription the landscape, viewed from the passes of the Blue Ridge.Westward in the valley of the Shenandoah was Longstreet's corps,traced by rising clouds of dust and the smoke of innumerablecamp-fires. Eastward was the great army of the Union, winding alongthe numerous roads, towards the south. Many of the soldiers had theirpets,—one had two yellow dogs in leading-strings. A gray-bearded oldsoldier carried a young puppy with its eyes not yet open, in his armsas tenderly as if it were a child. A Connecticut boy had a littlekitten on his shoulders, which kept its place contentedly.Occasionally the lad caressed it, while kitty laid its face againstthat of the beardless boy and purred with pleasure.

The march was tediously slow. General McClellan was averse to makingit at all. He had delayed from day to day, and from week to week, tillordered by the President to advance. He had no well-considered plan ofoperations.

The President's patience was exhausted, and at Warrenton he wasdeprived of the command of the army.

General Burnside, his successor, took the command reluctantly; but hewas quick in deciding upon a plan. General McClellan's line of marchwas towards Gordonsville. Burnside decided to move uponFredericksburg. The movement was made with great rapidity, andBurnside only failed of seizing the place because the pontoons werenot there at the time appointed. Lee came and occupied the town, threwup his earthworks, and planted his batteries. Burnside planned tohave Franklin cross the Rappahannock below Port Royal,(p. 138) Hookerabove it, while Sumner was to cross opposite the town; but a heavystorm frustrated the movement.

It was generally supposed that the army would go into winter quarters,and many of the correspondents accordingly returned to their homes. Myfriend and companion in the West, Mr. Richardson, left the army of thePotomac in disgust, and proceeded West again in search of adventure.His wishes were more than gratified soon after at Vicksburg, where hefell into the hands of the Rebels, who boarded him awhile at the Libbyin Richmond, and afterward at the Salisbury prison in North Carolina.He ungraciously turned his back upon his Rebel friends one night, tookall his baggage, and left without paying his bills.

He gained the Union lines in Tennessee after months of imprisonment,with his desires for adventure in that direction fully satisfied.

Nearly one half of the correspondents with the various armies eitherfell into the hands of the Rebels or were wounded. Several died ofdiseases contracted in the malarious swamps. As a class they weredaring, courageous, venturesome, always on the alert, making hardrides, day and night, on the battle-field often where the fire washottest,—writing their accounts seated on a stump, spreading theirblankets where night overtook them, or frequently making all-nightrides after a day of excitement, hardship, and exposure, that thepublic might have early information of what had transpired. Theirstatements were often contradictory. Those first received by thepublic were not unfrequently full of errors, and sometimes were whollyfalse, for the reason that many papers had a correspondent a few milesin rear of the army, at the base of supplies, who caught up every wildrumor and sent it flying over the land.

Gold speculators improved every occasion to gull the public by falsenews. There is reason to believe that men in high official positionswere in collusion with operators in bullion, to the mutual advantageof all concerned.

The press of the country, reflecting the feelings of the people,pronounced the campaign at an end. The friends of General McClellanwere clamorous for his return. Congress and(p. 139) politicaladvisers in Washington demanded that Burnside should move somewhere.They knew nothing of the obstacles in his path.

In a letter written on the 9th of December, 1862, the following viewof the situation was presented by the correspondent of the BostonJournal:—

It was an unreasonable demand which the public made upon Burnside. Hehad been just one month in command of the army. His first plan hadfailed through the remissness of others; his second effort to move hadbeen made abortive by the storm. He could not attempt again themovement with any hope of success, for Lee had taken precautionsagainst an attack upon his flank. Neither the public, the politician,nor the War Department would consent to his going into winterquarters. He had no alternative other than to devise a new plan. Theseconsiderations are to be kept in remembrance in reviewing the battleof Fredericksburg.

General Burnside obtained correct information of the position held byGeneral Lee. Jackson's corps was separated from Longstreet's by aravine, but General Lee had constructed a road through the woods andacross a ravine, by which troops could be readily marched to the rightor left, as they might be needed. He was satisfied that Lee did notexpect him to cross at the town, but lower down the river. He decided,therefore, to cross the Rappahannock, and make a desperate push toobtain possession of the road, which would divide Lee's army.

Fredericksburg.

(p. 141) The plan was accepted by a council of officers on the 10th ofDecember. Preparations wore made that night for the passage of theriver in three places. The artillery was drawn in position along thebank,—about one hundred and fifty pieces, some of which werethirty-pounders. Orders were issued to the troops to be ready at amoment's warning. General Woodbury, with a brigade of engineers, wasordered down to the river.

Soon after dark on the night of the 10th, the brigade, with its longtrain of boats on wheels, came down from the Stafford hills. Boatssufficient for the construction of two bridges halted near therailroad; enough for two more went a third of a mile down stream,opposite the lower end of the town, while the remainder went a mileand a half farther down, almost to Mr. Bernard's house. Sumner andHooker were to use those opposite the town, and Franklin those atBernard's. A brigade of troops was ordered to protect the engineers intheir work. The gunners stood beside their guns, ready to open fire ifthe Rebels opposed them. The engineers took the boats from the wagons,pushed them out over the thin ice, anchored them in the stream, andcommenced laying the timbers and planks. A dense fog hung over theriver, which concealed their operations, and before daybreak thebridges were nearly completed. The Seventeenth and EighteenthMississippi regiments of Barksdale's brigade, and the Eighth Florida,of Perry's brigade, were on picket along the river, while theThirteenth and Twenty-First Mississippi and Third Georgia were inreserve in the town.

Lee was wary. He expected an advance of the Union army. His scoutswere alert. All the commanders were ordered to be vigilant. So keepinga sharp lookout, the sentinels walked the bank through the long winternight, peering into the darkness, and listening to catch the meaningof the confused hum which floated to them across the stream.

(p. 142) CHAPTER XI.
BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.

At five o'clock on the morning of the 11th of December two signal-gunswere fired on the heights of Fredericksburg. Deep and heavy theirroar, rolling along the valley, echoing from hill to hill, and rousingthe sleepers of both armies. We who listened upon the Falmouth hillsknew that the crossing was not a surprise, but that the Rebels wereready for battle. And now as the day dawned there came a rattling ofmusketry along the river. The Rebel pickets opened the fire. Thegunners at the batteries were quick to respond, and sent grape andcanister across the stream. The Rebel pickets at the lower bridgessoon retired, and the engineers completed their work. But in the townthe Mississippians took shelter in the buildings, and poured a deadlyfire upon the bridge-builders. Almost every soldier who attempted tocarry out a plank fell. For a while the attempt was relinquished.

"The bridge must be completed," said General Burnside.

Once more the brave engineers attempted it. The fog still hung overthe river. Those who stood on the northern bank could only see theflashes of the rifles on the other shore. The gunners were obliged tofire at random, but so energetic their fire the engineers were able tocarry the bridge within eighty or ninety feet of the shore, and thenso deadly in turn was the fire of the Rebels that it was murder tosend men out with a plank.

General Burnside stood on the piazza of the Phillips House, a milefrom the pontoons. General Sumner and General Hooker were there. Aidsand couriers came and went with messages and orders.

"My bridge is completed, and I am ready to cross," was Franklin'smessage at half past nine.

"You must wait till the upper bridge is completed," was the reply toFranklin.

(p. 143) Two hours passed. A half-dozen attempts were made to completethe upper bridge without success. Brave men not belonging to theengineers came down to the bank, surveyed the scene, and thenvolunteering their services, seized planks and boards, ran out uponthe bridge, but only to fall before the sharpshooters concealed in thecellars of the houses not ten rods distant. Captain Brainard of theFiftieth New York, with eleven men, volunteered to finish the nearlycompleted work. They went out upon the run. Five fell at one volley,and the rest returned. Captain Perkins of the same regiment ledanother party. He fell with a ghastly wound in his neck. Half of hismen are killed or wounded. These were sacrifices of life with nothinggained. It was soul-inspiring to witness such heroic devotion, butheart-sickening to stand on the bank and see them slaughtered,—theirblood turning to crimson the turbid waters of the Rappahannock.

General Burnside had no desire to injure the town, but under theusages of war he had a right to bombard it; for the Rebels hadconcealed themselves in the houses, making use of them to slaughterhis men.

"Bring all your guns to bear upon the city and batter it down," wasthe order issued to General Hunt, chief of artillery. Colonel Hays hadeight batteries on the right; Colonel Tompkins had eleven batteries onthe right centre, opposite the upper pontoons,—some of them in theyard of Mr. Lacey's house, near the river; Colonel Tyler had sevenbatteries a little farther down on the left centre; while Captain DeRussey had seven batteries opposite the lower pontoons. There were inall thirty-five batteries, with a total of one hundred andseventy-nine guns, all bearing upon the town. The artillerymenreceived the orders to prepare for action with a hurrah. They hadchafed all the morning, and longed for an opportunity to avenge thedeath of their gallant comrades.

The hour had come. They sprang to their pieces. The fire ran from theright to the left,—from the heavy twenty-four-pounders on the heightsof Falmouth to the smaller pieces on the hills where Washington passedhis boyhood. The air became thick with the murky clouds. The earthshook beneath the terrific explosions of the shells, which wenthowling over the(p. 144) river, crashing into the houses, batteringdown walls, splintering doors, ripping up floors. Sixty solid shot andshells a minute were thrown, and the bombardment was kept up till ninethousand were fired. No hot shot were used, but the explosions setfire to a block of buildings, which added terrible grandeur to thescene.

The Rebel army stood upon the heights beyond the town and watched theoperations. Lee's Rebel artillery was silent, and the Mississippiansconcealed in the houses were alone participants in the contest.

The fog lifted at last and revealed the town. The streets weredeserted, but the houses, the church-steeples, the stores were riddledwith shot; yet no impression had been made on the Mississippians.

Burnside's artillerymen could not depress their guns sufficiently toshell them out. A working party went out upon the bridge, but oneafter another was killed or wounded.

The time had come for a bold movement. It was plain that theMississippians must be driven out before the bridge could becompleted, and that a party must go over in boats, charge up the hill,and rout them from their hiding-places. Who would go? Who attempt thehazardous enterprise? There were brave men standing on the bank by theLacey House, who had watched the proceedings during the long hours.They were accustomed to hard fighting: Hall's brigade, composed of theSeventh Michigan, Nineteenth and Twentieth Massachusetts, andForty-Second New York. They had fought at Fair Oaks, Savage Station,Glendale, Malvern, and Antietam. The Twentieth had been in all thesebattles, and also at Ball's Bluff.

"We will go over and clean out the Rebels," was the cry of thisbrigade.

"You shall have the privilege of doing so," said General Burnside.

There were not boats enough for all,—not enough for one regimenteven. A portion of the Seventh Michigan was selected to go first,while the other regiments stood as a supporting force.

The men run down the winding path to the water's edge, jump into theboats, and push out into the stream. It is a(p. 145) moment ofintense anxiety. No one knows how large the force opposing them. TheRebel sharpshooters are watching the movement from theirhiding-places. They have a fair view and can pick their men. The menin the boats know it, yet they move steadily onward, steering straightacross the stream, without a thought of turning back, though theircomrades are falling,—some headlong into the river, others droppinginto the boats. The oarsmen pull with rapid strokes. When one fallsanother takes his place. Two thirds the distance over,—the boatsground in shoal water. The soldiers wait for no word of command, butwith a common impulse, with an ardor which stops not to count thecost, they leap into the water, wade to the shore, and charge up thebank. Some fall to rise no more, but their surviving comrades rush upthe slippery slope. A loud hurrah rings out from the soldiers whowatch them from the Falmouth shore. Up, up they go, facing death,firing not, intent only to get at the foe and win victory with thebayonet! They smash the windows, batter down doors, driving orcapturing the foe.

Loud and hearty the cheers of the regiments upon the other shore. Themen of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Massachusetts would give anythingto be there. All the while the cannon are roaring, hurling solid shotand shell into the doomed city.

Fredericksburg.

Union Positions.						Rebel Positions.
1.	French's Division		}	2d Corps.		A.	Anderson's Division		}	Longstreet, 1st Corps.
2.	Hancock's	"	}			B.	Ransom's	"	}
3.	Howard's	"	}			C.	McLaw's	"	}
						D.	Pickett's	"	}
4.	Sturgis's	"	}	9th Corps.		E.	Hood's	"	}
5.	Getty's	"	}
6.	Burns's	"	}			F.	A. P. Hill's Division		}	Jackson, 2d Corps.
						G.	Ewell's	"	}
7.	Brooks's	"	}	6th Corps.		H.	Taliferro's	"	}
8.	Howe's	"	}			I.	D. H. Hill's	"	}
9.	Newton's	"	}			J.	Stuart's Cavalry		}
10.	Gibbon's Division		}	1st Corps.		K.	Lee's Head-Quarters.
11.	Meade's	"	}			L.	Longstreet Head-Quarters.
12.	Doubleday's	"	}			M.	Jackson's"
13.	Sickles's	"	}	3d Corps.
14.	Birney's	"	}
15.	Cavalry.
16.	Union Batteries.
17.	Bernard's House.
18.	Pontoon Bridge.
19.	Hamilton's House.
20.	Maryee's House.

When the bridge-builders saw the soldiers charge up the hill, they toocaught the enthusiasm of the moment, and finished their work. Theother regiments of the brigade, before the last planks were laid,rushed down the bank, ran out upon the bridge, dashed up the bank,joined their comrades, and drove the Rebels from the streets nearestthe river.

History furnishes but few records of more daring exploits than thisaction of the Seventh Michigan. Their work was thorough and complete.In fifteen minutes they cleared the houses in front of them, and tookmore prisoners than their own party numbered.

It was now half past four in the afternoon, one of the shortest daysof winter. The sun was going down. The Rebels had delayed the crossingthrough the entire day. General Burnside was severely censured by someNorthern as well as Southern papers for bombarding the town; he had nodesire to do injury to the citizens in person or property, but thestubborn resistance of the Rebels made it necessary thus to use hisartillery. When General Sumner arrived at Falmouth, three weeksbefore, he demanded the surrender of the place; but the citizens andthe women begged the officer in command not to give it up.

"We would rather have the town burned than given up to theYankees,"[11] said they.

(p. 148) But now the Yankees were there, marching through the streets.The houses were battered, torn, and rent. Some were in flames, and abattle was raging through the town.

As soon as the bridge was completed, the other brigades of GeneralHoward's division moved across the river. The Rebel batteries, whichtill now had kept silence, opened furiously with solid shot and shell,but the troops moved steadily over, and took shelter along the riverbank. The Rebels were falling back from street to street, and the menfrom Michigan and Massachusetts were pressing on.

I stood upon the bank of the river and watched the scene in thedeepening twilight. Far up the streets there were bright flashes fromthe muskets of the Rebels, who fired from cellars, chamber windows,and from sheltered places. Nearer were dark masses of men in blue, whogave quick volleys as they moved steadily on, demolishing doors,crushing in windows, and searching every hiding-place. Cannon wereflaming on all the hills, and the whole country was aglow with thecamp fires of the two great armies. The Stafford hills were alive withmen,—regiments, brigades, and divisions moving in column from theirencampments to cross the river. The sky was without a cloud. The townwas lighted by lurid flames. The air was full of hissings,—the sharpcutting sounds of the leaden rain. The great twenty-pounder guns onthe heights of Falmouth were roaring the while. There were shouts,hurrahs, yells, and groans from the streets. So the fight went on tillthe Rebels were driven wholly from the town to their intrenchmentsbeyond.

The Seventeenth Mississippi was the most actively engaged of the Rebelregiments. Its commander, Lieutenant-Colonel Fizer, in his report,says:—

"The Yankees made nine desperate attempts to finish their bridges, but were repulsed at every attempt. They used their artillery incessantly, with a heavy detachment of sharpshooters, for twelve hours, we holding our position firmly the whole time, until about half past four, P. M., when they increased their artillery and infantry, and their batteries becoming so numerous and concentrated, we could not use our rifles. Being deprived of all protection, we were compelled to fall back to Caroline Street, and from there were ordered from town. The casualties(p. 149) of the regiment during the engagement were one hundred and sixteen wounded, killed, and missing."[12]

When the soldiers of the Seventh Michigan leaped into the boats, adrummer-boy joined them,—Robert Henry Hendershot. He was only twelveyears old, but his dark eyes flashed brightly under the excitement ofthe moment. His drum was upon his neck.

"Get out, you can't go," said an officer.

"I want to go," said Robert.

"No, you will get shot. Out with you."

Robert jumped into the water, but instead of going ashore, remained topush off the boat; and then, instead of letting go his hold, clung tothe gunwale, and was taken across.

As the boat grounded upon the other shore, a piece of shell torethrough his drum. He threw it away, seized the gun of a fallensoldier, rushed up the hill, and came upon a Rebel soldier, slightlywounded. "Surrender!" said Robert, pointing his gun at him. The Rebelgave up his gun, and Robert marched him to the rear. When he returnedto the other side of the river, General Burnside saw him, and said,—

"Boy, I glory in your spunk! If you keep on in this way a few moreyears, you will be in my place."

His regiment, after the battle, was sent West, and Robert was in thebattles of Lebanon, Murfreesboro, Chattanooga, and McMinnville, wherehe fought gallantly.

As the Rebels had used the houses for a defence, the soldiers, nowthat they were in possession of the town, appropriated to their ownuse whatever suited their fancy. Their great desire was to obtaintobacco, and the tobacco shops were first broken open. A largequantity had been thrown into the river by the Rebel authorities toprevent its falling into the hands of the Yankees; but the soldierssoon fished it up, dried it by their bivouac fires, and through thelong night, while keeping watch, enjoyed their pipes at the expense ofthe enemy. Soldiers who did not care for tobacco helped themselves toflour, meat, potatoes, sugar, and molasses. They had a merry nightcooking(p. 150) bacon and eggs, frying pork, making hot cakes in thekitchens. The houses were ransacked; beds, blankets, carpets, sofas,rocking-chairs, settees, and lounges were carried into the streets.Some dressed themselves in old-fashioned and antiquated clothes whichthey found in the chambers.

It was a carnival night. One fellow appropriated a heavy volume ofCongressional documents, which he carried about several days. Anotherfound a stuffed monkey in one of the houses, which he shouldered andbore away. One soldier had a dozen custard-cups on a string around hisneck. Another, finding a nice beaver hat, threw aside his old cap andtook his place again in the ranks, the sport of all his comrades, forbeing so nice a gentleman. It was not, however, an indiscriminatepillage of the whole town. A great many dwellings were not entered atall, and the owners, after the evacuation of the city, found theirpremises but little injured. In the houses nearest the river thesoldiers felt that they were entitled to whatever they could lay theirhands on. But those who had taken mattresses and bedding were obligedto give them up. The surgeons in charge of the hospitals seized thearticles for the benefit of the wounded.

"Rev. Arthur B. Fuller is killed," said an acquaintance, as I stoodupon the bank of the river. "His body is lying in the street."

He had been chaplain of the Massachusetts Sixteenth through all thePeninsula campaign, working hard day and night in the hospital, tillhis health had given out, and he had been honorably discharged. He hadpreached his last sermon on the Sunday before; but although no longerin the service, knowing that there was to be a great battle, sointense was his patriotism that he could not go away, but remained todo what he could. He took a musket, became a volunteer, and went overwith the regiments.

"I must do something for my country. What shall I do?" he asked ofCaptain Dunn in the streets of Fredericksburg on that fatal evening.

"Now is a good time for you,—fall in on the left," said the captain,who saw that he was cool and collected, although the bullets werefalling thick and fast around them. He stood in(p. 151) front of agrocery store, loaded his musket and fired, and then coolly loadedagain. He was taking aim once more when he was shot by a sharpshooter.The Rebels advanced, and Captain Dunn was obliged to fall back. He laywhere he fell till the enemy were driven from the town, when his bodywas recovered. The Rebels had picked his pockets. They stabbed awounded man who was lying by his side. The soldiers of his regimentwho had listened to his teachings in life came in groups to gaze withsilent sorrow upon the marble brow of him who had been a faithfulteacher, and who gave his life freely for his country.

At his funeral obsequies in Boston, Rev. E. O. Haven said of him:—

"Could he whose mangled body now lies before you, from which the deadly bullet has expelled the noble Christian's soul, rise again and speak out as he was wont to do in ringing words, they would not be apologetic, but words of exultation. Were it possible for him to be at once fallen in battle and yet alive with us, I know that he would fill our souls with his own holy enthusiasm. I know that he would make us understand and feel the magnitude of his thought and the love of his heart, when he offered to his country, in what he thought her bitterest trial, the sight of his eye and the strength of his arm, and above all the moral example of his character, won by many years' devotion to the good of his fellow-men. He offered all this to his country, and he did right. It was an overflowing love. He gave his life for liberty to all men, instead of slavery for negroes, vassalage for the great majority of the whites, and a despotism,—greatest curse of all,—for a few. He offered his life to inspire the army with noble purpose, and if need be, to inspire the nation. He knew that his life might be taken, and is not now surprised; but there comes a voice from his spirit to us saying, Waste not your sympathies in inactive sorrow, but connect the strong tide of your emotion into vigorous thought and powerful action. Weep not for me, but weep for yourselves and your children,—or see to it that they are so protected as not to need your tears."

Rev. James Freeman Clarke was his playmate in boyhood, and his friendthrough life, and standing by his coffin, looking for the last timeupon his face, said:—

Foothold having been secured on the southern bank of the Rappahannock,the army began to cross. A third pontoon bridge was constructed at thelower end of the town. A thick fog hung over the river on the morningof the 12th. The air was calm, and I could distinctly hear theconfused hum of preparation for the great battle. Burnside's troopswere moving(p. 153) into position, and so were Lee's; but all themovements of both armies were concealed by the fog.

The Rebel pickets still clung to the outskirts of the town. At noonthe fog disappeared, drifting up the Rappahannock. Suddenly the Rebelbatteries on the hills above the town began to throw shells upon theSecond Corps, which had crossed the upper bridge and was forming inthe streets. Colonel Tyler, who commanded the heavy guns on theFalmouth hills, was quick to reply. The batteries in the centreopened, also those on the left. The distance from the most remotebattery on the right to the farthest on the left was five miles. TheSecond and Ninth Corps were in the town, the front line was in thestreets and the rear line along the bank of the river. Artillerytrains and wagons loaded with ammunition were going over. Solid shotfrom the Rebel batteries tossed up the water in the river. Shells werebursting in the town.

The First and Sixth Corps, under Franklin, had crossed at the lowerbridge by the house of Mr. Bernard, and were moving over the wideplain. The Bernard House, where Franklin had established hishead-quarters, was a fine old mansion surrounded by trees. Beyond thehouse there was a smooth intervale, with here and there a hollow,where the troops could find shelter from the artillery-fire of theenemy.

General Stoneman was moving down from the Falmouth hills with Birney'sand Sickles's divisions. Opposite Falmouth, on the Rebel left, wasLongstreet's corps, with Anderson's division on Stanisbury Hill,—hispickets stationed along the canal, which winds around its base. Nextto Anderson was Ransom's division, on Maryee's Hill, directly in rearof the town. Two roads run up the hill, leading west,—theGordonsville plank-road and the Orange turnpike. Mr. Maryee's housestands between them. It is a fine brick dwelling, with a statelyportico before it, with a beautiful lawn sloping towards the city,shaded by oaks and adorned with flowering shrubs. From the roof of themansion General Longstreet can obtain a fair view of what is going onin the Union lines. He can see the troops gathering in the streets andbehold the dark masses under Franklin moving out past the BernardHouse.

At the base of the hill he can see some of his own soldiers,(p. 154)sheltered behind a stone-wall along the Old Telegraph road, which isdug like a canal into the side of the hill. It is a shelteredposition, and their rifles and muskets will sweep the level field infront towards the town. His heaviest cannon and his largest howitzersare in position around Maryee's house, behind earthworks. TheWashington Artillery, which was in the first battle of Manassas, andwhich fought through all battles of the Peninsula, at Groveton andAntietam, is there.

Ransom's division extends to Hazel Run,—a stream which comes downthrough a deep ravine from the west, gurgling over a rocky bed, andturning the great wheel of a grist-mill, just hid from sight as youlook up the river from the town. An unfinished railroad embankment isthrown up in the run,—the Gordonsville road,—which was inconstruction when the war broke out. There is a hollow in the smoothfield in front of the telegraph road,—a place to be kept inremembrance. There is a higher elevation beyond Maryee's house, whichoverlooks the town, and all the plain below, called Lee's Hill, whereLee has placed his guns of longest range.

Across the ravine is McLaw's division, behind an embankment whichextends up the hill and into the woods along the Telegraph road.Beyond McLaw's is Pickett's division; then Hood's division, whichforms the right of Longstreet's command, and reaches to Deep Run.Longstreet's head-quarters are in rear of Hood.

Across Deep Run are the head-quarters of Lee, who can stand by histent and look down upon the battle-field. He can see what Couch andWilcox are doing in the town. He is directly in front of Bernard'smansion, and can also behold all the movements of the Union troops onthe plain. A. P. Hill's division of Jackson's corps is in front ofhim,—Hill's left resting on Deep Run, and his right reaching toCaptain Hamilton's house, where the railroad crosses the old Richmondroad. Hill's troops are partially concealed in the woods. Behind Hillare the divisions of Early and Taliferro,—Taliferro being on theright, near Hamilton's house. Farther in the rear, on the hill, is D.H. Hill's division, which is held in reserve. There are fourteenguns—from Pegram's, McIntosh's, Crenshaw's, Latham's, and Johnson'sbatteries—on the hill near Hamilton's.

Franklin's attack.

The diagram represents the position of the troops as witness fromFranklin's Head-quarters, looking south.

Union Positions.					Rebel Positions.
1.	Doubleday.	7.	Newton.		A.	Hood.	I.	Batteries.
2.	Meade's First Position.	8.	Howe.		B.	Lane, Pender.	J.	Ewell's Division.
3.	Meade's Second Position.	9.	Brooks.		C.	Thomas's Brigade.	K.	D. H. Hill's Division.
4.	Gibbon.	10.	Burns.		D.	Gregg's"	L.	Stuart.
5.	Sickles.	11.	Franklin's Head-quarters.		E.	Archer's"	M.	Batteries.
6.	Birney.				F., G., H.	Taliferro's Division.

(p. 156) Mr. Bernard has been a large slaveholder. His estate is knownin the county round by the name of Mansfield. His negroes live inhumble homes,—in cabins near the railroad, out towards Hamilton's.There, around the cabins, Jackson has placed twenty-one guns fromDavidson's, Raines's, Caskie's, and Braxton's batteries. To the rightof these, and between Bernard's and the railroad, are twelveguns,—Wooding's and Carpenter's batteries.

The road from Fredericksburg to Port Royal runs parallel to the river,about half a mile distant from the stream.

General Stuart, with two brigades of cavalry and his batteries oflight artillery, hold the road. The Louisiana Guards are sent down toaid him. His line runs nearly at right angles with Jackson's infantryline, and extends from the railroad to the river. His batteries willhave a cross-fire upon the First and Sixth Corps, whenever theyattempt to move out from Bernard's to gain possession of the railroadat Hamilton's.

Such is the field,—a smooth plain, a mile wide and two miles long,around Bernard's, reaching up to the town. Bernard's farm is cutacross by the Port Royal road, the old road to Richmond, and by therailroad. The Port Royal road is bordered by cedars, thick-set hedges,and a deep ditch. There are fences dividing the intervale into fields.Deep Run is fringed with alders. Maryee's Hill is quite steep. TheRebel cannon sweep all the plain, the field at the base of Maryee's,and the town itself. The Rebel troops have the protection of thesunken road, of the rifle-pits along the crests of the hills. They aresheltered by woods, by ravines, by the hedges and fences, but Burnsidehas no cover for his troops. They must march out upon the plain,charge up the hillsides, and receive the fire of a sheltered foe.

To win a victory, even with a superior force, under suchcircumstances, there must be not only great courage andself-possession, but a well-laid plan and harmonious action of allsubordinate commanders.

Burnside's plan was to make a vigorous movement with a large portionof his army to gain the railroad at Hamilton's house, and at the sametime rout Longstreet from his position on Maryee's Hill. If hesucceeded at Hamilton's, even if he(p. 157) failed at Maryee's, Leewould be compelled to evacuate the town, because Burnside would holdthe railroad over which Lee received his supplies.

In the council of officers, held on the night of the 11th, GeneralFranklin, who had about sixty thousand men, urged such a movement onthe left. There was delay in issuing the orders, which gave Lee ampletime to strengthen his position. The plan adopted was substantiallythat which Franklin had urged. These were Burnside's directions toFranklin:—

"General Hardee will carry this despatch to you, and remain with you through the day. The general commanding directs that you keep your whole command in 'position' for a rapid movement down the old Richmond road; and you will send out at once a division at least, to pass below Smithfield, to seize, if possible, the heights near Captain Hamilton's, on this side of the Massaponax, taking care to keep it well supported and its line of retreat open. He has ordered another column of a division or more to be moved from General Sumner's command, up the Plank-road to its intersection with the Telegraph road, where they will divide, with a view of seizing the heights on both those roads. Holding these heights, with the heights near Captain Hamilton's, will, he hopes, compel the enemy to evacuate the whole ridge between these points."

In a letter to General Halleck, written on the 10th, a week after thebattle, General Burnside explains his plan more fully.

"The enemy," he says, "had cut a road in rear of the line of heights where we made our attack, by means of which they connected the two wings of their army and avoided a long detour around through a bad country. I obtained from a colored man information in regard to this road, which proved to be correct. I wanted to obtain possession of this road, and that was my reason for making my attack on the extreme left. I did not intend to make an attack on the right till that position was taken, which I supposed would stagger the enemy, cutting their line in two; and then I proposed to make a direct attack in front and drive them out of their works."

The day (the 12th) passed, and night came on before the army was inposition to make the attack. At sunset the batteries along the linesopened fire, but the shells for the most part burst harmlessly, andthe soldiers, accustomed to danger,(p. 158) cooked their coffee bythe glimmering bivouac fires, spread their blankets on the ground, andlay down to sleep, giving no heed to the cannon's roar or the constantfiring along the picket lines.

THE MORNING.

The morning of the 13th dawned. A thick fog hung over the river, sodense that it was hardly possible to distinguish objects a hundredyards distant. General Sumner's head-quarters were by the house of Mr.Phillips, north of the river. General Burnside rode down from his ownhead-quarters, and met General Sumner and General Hooker, and otherofficers. He wore an anxious look, and justly, for it was the mostresponsible hour of his life. Up to that time all of his well-laidplans had failed. He had hoped to cross the river and surprise theRebels, but two days had passed since the beginning of the movement,giving Lee time to strengthen his defences. Now the fog hung over theriver, and he was afraid of collision between different divisions ofhis troops. But a password was whispered along the lines, and orderswere issued to go forward.

While the troops were waiting for the advance the mails arrived. Howeagerly were the letters and papers grasped by the soldiers! It wasaffecting to see them, as they read the words of love from home, dashthe tears from their eyes. Home was dear to them just then.

The fog began to drift along the valley. It was like the drawing asideof a curtain. The entire battle-field was in view. Two signal-gunswere fired in quick succession by the Rebels far down on the left infront of Franklin. There was a quick mounting of horses at Burnside'shead-quarters. The officers had received their final orders, anddashed away to carry them into execution.

The main attack was to be led by Franklin. He had his own two corps,numbering forty thousand; Stoneman was moving to his support withtwenty thousand, and Butterfield, with the Fifth Corps, could becalled to aid him if needed.

Standing where General Tyler had planted his guns, I had a fair viewof the entire battle-field. The position was below the(p. 159) town,near the lower bridge, on the Washington farm. Rebel officers wereriding to and fro around Maryee's house. The gunners of the WashingtonArtillery were leaning upon their pieces, watching the movements inthe town. The Second Corps had moved out from the streets past the oldburying-ground, and was near the gas-works. The right of the lineextended north of the Plank-road to the monument erected to the memoryof Washington's mother.

General French's division of the Second Corps was on the right;General Hancock's was next in the line, with Howard's division, asreserve, in the rear. The Second Corps batteries were standing in thestreets of the town, the officers vainly seeking positions where theycould fire upon the Rebel batteries which looked down upon them fromMaryee's Hill.

The Ninth Corps under Wilcox was joined to the Second Corps, andoccupied the lower end of the town. General Sturgis's division was infront, with Whipple's, forming the second line. Burns's division wasin reserve, near Deep Run. The Rebel ammunition trains were in sightfar up Hazel Run, and on the distant hill there was a group of Rebelofficers around Longstreet's head-quarters. Troops and teams werepassing to and fro between Hood's and Pickett's divisions. Wilcox'stroops were taking position, marching and countermarching, closing insolid mass under the shelter of the banks of Hazel Run. The right ofthe Sixth Corps, under General Smith, rested on Deep Run, Brooks'sdivision joining Burns's west of the run, almost up to the railroad.Howe's division was next in line, where the Rebel batteries had fullsweep of the broad intervale. The ground is a dead level east of therun, extending from the river to the wooded hill, where Lee hadestablished his head-quarters. Howe's troops were lying along the oldRichmond road, where, beneath the cedars and sodded fences, thesoldiers found shelter from the shells of the enemy. General Newton'sdivision was on the left of Howe's, also lying under cover.

General Gibbon's division of Reynolds's corps, the First, was next inline. Meade stood next, directly in front of the railroad-crossing atHamilton's,—the vital point, which, if seized and held, would forceLee out of his intrenchments. Meade(p. 160) had crossed the oldRichmond road, and was facing south; Doubleday's division was on theextreme left, extending from Meade's left to the river, facing east,and standing nearly at right angles with Meade's division.

The battle was begun by General Meade, his divisions having beenselected to lead the advance towards the railroad-crossing. TheBucktails, who had been in nearly all the engagements on thePeninsula, who first exhibited their valor at Drainsville, who wereunder Hooker at Antietam, were first engaged. They moved over the openfield beyond Bernard's, and drove the enemy's skirmishers. The Rebelbatteries—Latham's, Johnson's, McIntosh's, Pegram's, andCrenshaw's—opened a heavy fire. Jackson knew the importance ofholding the position at Hamilton's, and had massed these batteries,which gave a concentrated fire upon the advancing force. Reynolds'sbatteries galloped into position and replied; and so for an hour thepounding of the batteries went on along the left.

Meade's division was composed of three brigades. The First wascommanded by Colonel Sinclair, and was composed of the First Rifles(Bucktails), the First, Second, and Sixth regiments of thePennsylvania Reserves. The Second Brigade was commanded by ColonelMagilton, and consisted of the Third, Fourth, Seventh, and Eighthregiments of the Pennsylvania Reserves, and the One Hundred andForty-Second Pennsylvania Volunteers. The Third Brigade was commandedby General C. F. Jackson, and was composed of the Fifth, Ninth, Tenth,Eleventh, and Twelfth regiments of the Reserves. Attached to thisdivision were four batteries of four guns each, Captain Ransom's ThirdUnited States artillery, Lieutenant Simpson's, Captain Amsden's, andCaptain Cooper's of the First Pennsylvania regiment of artillery.Captain Ransom and Lieutenant Simpson had twelve-pounders, the otherswere three-inch rifled guns.

Sinclair's brigade was in the front line, and Magilton's three hundredpaces in rear of it. Jackson's was in rear of the left of the twolines, with his men in column of regiments, about one hundred paces inrear of Magilton's line. These three brigades numbered about sixthousand men.

(p. 161) THE ATTACK ON THE LEFT.

It was just nine o'clock when Meade moved from his position near theBernard House.

A ravine comes down from the hills and forms the dividing line betweenthe Bernard and Smithfield estates. As soon as Meade crossed theravine, he turned the head of his column to the south, and moved tothe Bowling Green or old Richmond road, where he was obliged to stopwhile the pioneers could cut away the hedges, level the sod fences,and bridge the ditches, in order that his artillery could pass. Whilehe was doing this, Stuart's batteries opened fire. They were onMeade's left flank and enfiladed his lines, throwing shells directlyup the road. Meade apprehended an immediate attack on his left flank,and swung his second brigade towards Stuart, facing east, while hisfirst brigade was still facing south towards Hamilton's crossing. Hisline thus made two sides of a square. There was a little knoll on theleft of the first brigade.

"That is the place for you," said Meade to Cooper and Ransom. Thebatteries were quickly wheeled into the position indicated. Thegunners had a fair view of the Rebel batteries over the level plain.Simpson brought his battery up and placed it in front of the ThirdBrigade, and replied to Pegram. Such was the opening of the battle.

Meanwhile, Doubleday was pushing down by the river. When the Rebelbatteries opened fire, he brought his own into position and gave across-fire, which was so severe that Stuart's Rockbridge battery wasquickly silenced and the guns withdrawn. While this was going on, abody of Rebel sharpshooters crept up by the hedges and commencedfiring; but two companies of marksmen were sent out by GeneralJackson's brigade, which drove them back.

An hour passed before Meade was ready to move again. Doubleday hadadvanced towards Stuart, but Gibbon was not yet upon Meade's right.

Stonewall Jackson, seeing that Doubleday was moving down the river,thought that it was Franklin's intention to turn his right flank. D.H. Hill's division, which was close by Hamilton's house, was sentupon the double-quick to help Stuart hold(p. 162) his line.[13] Thisweakened his centre. It was at this auspicious moment that Meade'sdivision advanced alone to pierce the Rebel line.

It was twelve o'clock, and Franklin's force was in the followingposition: Doubleday on the left, well down towards Stuart, hisbatteries in full play; Meade thirty or forty rods beyond the BowlingGreen road, in the open field; Gibbon and Newton just over the road;Howe up to it; Birney and Sickles filing out from the bridges, a milein rear of Meade.

All of Franklin's batteries which were in position, one hundred andsixteen guns, commenced a rapid fire upon the woods beyond therailroad, to protect Meade in his advance. De Russey opened with hissixty pieces from the hills north of the Rappahannock, throwing shellsover the heads of the advancing troops.

Jackson's batteries were equally active. There were twenty-one guns bythe negro cabins in front of Howe, twelve in front of Newton, fourteenin front of Meade, while other single batteries under Stuart wereplaying on the left. More than two hundred and fifty pieces wereroaring as Meade advanced.

It was a magnificent spectacle; but it was a moment of anxiety toBurnside, who could only judge of the progress of the battle by thefollowing despatches, received from time to time.

Such was the intelligence which reached General Burnside of theoperations on the left. It was not very encouraging. He expected thatFranklin, with sixty thousand men at his disposal, would sweep Jacksonfrom his position by Hamilton's, and thus gain the rear of Lee's leftflank, which would make it easy for Sumner with the right wing tobreak through the line in rear of the town. Instead of throwing fortythousand men upon Jackson, as he could have done, dealing a blow whichmight have broken the Rebel lines, Meade's division alone was sentforward. The fire of the batteries was terrific as he advanced, and sosevere was the cannonade that the Rebel batteries which had beenadvanced from the main line were(p. 165) forced to retire, with twocaissons blown up and several guns disabled.[14]

As the troops moved on they came to a hollow before reaching therailroad. They halted a moment on the edge of the depression andcorrected their lines. It was a clear field to the railroadembankment, behind which they could see the gleaming of the sunlighton the bayonets of A. P. Hill's division.

Meade's three brigades were now in line, the first on the right, withthe Sixth regiment of the Reserves thrown out as skirmishers; theSecond in the centre, and the Third on the left.

The direction of Meade's advance brought him against Lane's andArcher's brigades. Lane's brigade was composed of five North Carolinaregiments,—the Seventh, Eighteenth, Twenty-Eighth, Thirty-Third, andThirty-Seventh. Archer's was composed of the First, Seventh, andFourteenth Tennessee, and Nineteenth Georgia regiments, and FifthAlabama battalion. They were on the railroad and in the woods. Therewas a gap between the brigades, and there Meade drove the enteringwedge. It was a fierce and bloody contest along the railroad, in thewoods, upon the hillside, in the ravine, on the open plain, and on thecrest of the ridge. The fourteen guns on the hill poured a murderousfire into Meade's left flank. The guns by Deep Run, in front ofPender's brigade, enfiladed the line from the right, while in reservewere two full brigades,—Thomas's and Gregg's,—to fill the gap. Butnotwithstanding this, Meade, unsupported, charged down the slope,through the hollow, up to the railroad, and over it, routing theFourteenth Tennessee and Nineteenth Georgia, of Archer's, and thewhole of Lane's brigade. With a cheer the Pennsylvanians went up thehill, crawling through the thick underbrush, to the crest, doubling upArcher and knocking Lane completely out of the line. It was as if aHerculean destroyer had crumbled, with a sledge-hammer stroke, thekey-stone of an arch, leaving the whole structure in danger ofimmediate and irretrievable ruin.

Archer shifted the Fifth Alabama from his right to his left,(p. 166)but was not able to stop the advancing Yankees. He had already sent toGregg for help, and that officer was putting his troops in motion. Hehad sent to Ewell, who was by Hamilton's, and Trimble and Lawton weregetting ready to move, Lane was still running, and the gap waswidening between Archer and Pender.

Gibbon ought to have been following Meade, driving up the hill throughthe gap, but he halted at the railroad; his men were loath to move,for Pender's batteries were cutting across his flank. Howe and Newtonand Brooks were by the Bowling Green road, showing no signs ofadvancing. Sickles and Birney were almost back to Bernard's mansion.Doubleday was holding the flank against Stuart, and Meade wasstruggling alone.

The latter officer thus speaks of his position at this moment:—

"The first brigade to the right advanced several hundred yards over cleared ground, driving the enemy's skirmishers before them till they reached the woods in front of the railroad, which they entered, driving the enemy out of them to the railroad, where they were found strongly posted in ditches and behind temporary defences. The brigade (First) drove them from there and up the heights in their front. Owing to a heavy fire being received on their right flank, they obliqued over to that side, but continued forcing the enemy back till they had crowned the crest of the hill, crossed a main road which runs along the crest, and reached open ground on the other side, where they were assailed by a very severe fire from a larger force in their front, and at the same time the enemy opened a battery which completely enfiladed them from the right flank. After holding their ground for some time, no support arriving, they were compelled to fall back to the railroad."[15]

Gibbon, the nearest support to Meade, was nearly half a miledistant.[16] That officer was wounded while the fight was hottest, butof the part which he was performing he says:—

"As soon as the enemy's guns slackened fire, I saw General Meade's troops moving forward into action, and I at once sent orders to my leading brigade to advance and engage the enemy. Shortly afterwards I ordered up another brigade to support the first. The fire was very(p. 167) heavy from the enemy's infantry, and I ordered up the Third Brigade and formed it in column on the right of my line, and directed them to take the position with the bayonet, having previously given that order to the leading brigade. But the general commanding that brigade told me that the noise and confusion was such that it was impossible to get the men to charge, or to get them to hear any order to charge. The Third Brigade—my last brigade—went in and took the position with the bayonet, and captured a considerable number of prisoners. During the fighting of the infantry I was establishing the batteries which belonged to my division in position to assist in the assault. I had just received the report of the success of this Third Brigade, when shortly after I saw a regiment of Rebel infantry come out on the left of my line between myself and General Meade. I rode up towards a battery that was on their left, and directed them to open fire upon that regiment. I was riding back towards the right of my line, when I was wounded, and left the field about half past two o'clock in the afternoon, I think."[17]

It will be seen by Franklin's despatches that Meade had broken theline before Gibbon was engaged. At 1.15 P. M. he telegraphed toBurnside, "Meade is assaulting the hill." Ten minutes later, at 1.25P. M., "Reynolds will push Gibbon in if necessary." At 1.40 P. M.,"Meade has carried a portion of the enemy's position in the woods. Wehave three hundred prisoners. Gibbon has advanced to Meade's right."

It was in this advance to the railroad, when Gibbon came in collisionwith Pender's and Thomas's brigades, that Gibbon was wounded.

While this was going on in front, the Second and Third Brigades ofMeade were enveloping Gregg's brigade of South Carolinians, which hadbeen hurried up to retrieve the disaster to the line. There was ashort but bloody contest. Three hundred South Carolinians fell in thatstruggle, including their commander, General Gregg, who was mortallywounded.

It was a critical moment with Stonewall Jackson. The whole of Ewell'sdivision, under the command of General Early, was brought up to regainthe ground. Lawton's brigade came first upon the Pennsylvanians,followed by Hayes's, Trimble's, and Field's brigades, with Early'sown, commanded by Colonel Walker.

(p. 168) Had Newton, Howe, Brooks, Sickles, and Birney been near athand, or had Gibbon been pushed promptly and effectively to Meade'ssupport, the record of that bloody day would have been far differentfrom what it is. But they were not there. They had not even beenordered to advance!

Unable to withstand the onset of the whole of Jackson's force (withthe exception of a portion of Taliferro's reserves), Meade was obligedto fall back, and give up the position won by such heroic valor. Ashis troops went to the rear, they met Ward's brigade of Birney'sdivision advancing. The Rebels were in full pursuit. Birney wheeledhis batteries into position, and opened with canister, and the Rebelsfled to the shelter of the woods.

The divisions of Howe and Newton and Sickles were slightly engagedlater in the day, but only in repulsing a second advance of theRebels. The attack which Meade had opened so gallantly, and which wasattended with such good success, had failed. Less than ten thousandmen had broken the enemy's line, and opened the way to victory. Of thesixty thousand men at Franklin's disposal not more than sixteen oreighteen thousand were engaged during the day,[18] and of those notmore than eight thousand at any one time.

General Franklin, in vindicating himself from censure for notattacking with a larger force and more vigorously, falls back on theclause in Burnside's order, "to attack with one division at least, andto keep it well supported." It would have been better if Burnside hadgiven explicit instructions. There must be some latitude allowed tosubordinates, but there are very few men who, without particularinstructions, can enter fully into the plans and intentions of thecommander-in-chief. Franklin was constitutionally sluggish in hismovements. The attack on the left required boldness, energy, andperseverance. Sumner was the man for the place. Burnside waspeculiarly unfortunate in the selection of commanders to carry out theparticular features of his plan; but Sumner having been first toarrive at Falmouth, and having taken position, it was not easy to makethe change.

While the battle was raging on the left I rode over the plain.(p. 169) The cavalry under General Bayard was drawn up in rear of thegrove surrounding the fine old Bernard mansion. General Bayard wassitting at the foot of a tree, waiting for orders, and watching theadvancing columns of Meade and Gibbon. There was a group of officersaround General Franklin. Howe's and Newton's divisions were lying downto avoid the Rebel shells, hurled from the heights beyond therailroad. All of Franklin's guns were in play. The earth shook withthe deep concussion. Suddenly the Rebel batteries opened withredoubled fury. A shot went over my head, a second fell in front of myhorse, and ploughed a furrow in the ground; a third exploded at myright, a fourth went singing along the line of a regiment lyingprostrate on the earth. McCartney's, Williston's, Hexamer's, Amsden's,Cooper's, Ransom's, and a dozen other batteries were replying. Meadewas driving up the hill. Wounded men were creeping, crawling, andhobbling towards the hospital. Some, slightly wounded, were utteringfearful groans, while others, made of sterner stuff, though torn andmangled, bore their pains without a murmur.

A soldier, with his arms around the necks of two of his comrades, wasbeing brought in. "O dear! O Lord! my foot is torn all to pieces!" hecried.

There was a hole in the toe of his boot where the ball had entered.

"It has gone clear through to the heel, and smashed all the bones. Odear! O dear! I shall have to have it cut off!" he cried, moaningpiteously as his comrades laid him upon the ground to rest.

"Better cut off your boot before your foot swells."

"Yes,—do so."

I slipped my knife through the leather, and took the boot from hisfoot. The ball had passed through his stocking. There was but a dropor two of blood visible. I cut off the stocking, and the bullet waslying between his toes, having barely broken the skin.

"I reckon I sha'n't help lug you any farther," said one of the men whohad borne him.

"Wal, if I had known that it wasn't any worse than that I wouldn'thave had my boot cut off," said the soldier.

(p. 170) Returning to the Bernard mansion, I saw a commotion among thecavalry, and learned that their commander was mortally wounded. He hadbeen struck by a solid shot while sitting by the tree; and they werebearing him to the hospital. He was a brave and gallant officer.

THE ATTACK ON THE RIGHT.

But while this was transpiring on the left there was a terriblesacrifice of life at the foot of Maryee's Hill. Soon after noonFrench's and Hancock's divisions of the Second Corps, with Sturgis'sdivision of the Ninth, advanced over the open field in rear of thetown to attack the heights. Officers walked along the lines giving thelast words. "Advance and drive them out with the bayonet!" were theorders.

The fifteen thousand in a compact body move to the edge of theplateau. The hills are aflame. All of Longstreet's guns arethundering. Shells burst in the ranks. The Rebel skirmishers,concealed in the houses and behind fences, fire a volley and fall backto the main line.

Onward move the divisions. We who behold them from the rear, althoughwe know that death stands ready to reap an abundant harvest, feel theblood rushing with quickened flow through our veins, when we see howgallantly they move forward, firing no shot in return.

Now a sheet of flame bursts from the sunken road, and another fromhalf-way up the slope, and yet another from the top of the hill.Hundreds fall; but still on, nearer to the hill rolls the wave. Still,still it flows on; but we can see that it is losing its power, and,though advancing, it will be broken. It begins to break. It is nolonger a wave, but scattered remnants, thrown back like rifts of foam.A portion of Sturgis's division reaches the hollow in front of thehill and settles into it.

The Eleventh New Hampshire, commanded by Colonel Harriman, is in thefront line. They are new troops, and this is their first battle; butthey fight so gallantly that they win the admiration of their general.

"See!" said Sturgis to an old regiment which quailed before the fire."See the Eleventh New Hampshire! a new regiment, standing like postsdriven into the ground."

(p. 171) Hancock and French, unable to find any shelter, are drivenback upon the town. The attack and repulse have not occupied fifteenminutes.

It is a sad sight, that field thickly strewn with dying and dead men.But in battle there is no time for the wringing of hands overdisaster. The bloody work must go on.

Sturgis is in the hollow, so near the hill that the Rebel batteries onthe crest cannot be depressed sufficiently to drive him out. He iswithin close musket-shot of Cobb's brigade, lying behind thestone-wall at the base of the hill. Sturgis's men lie down, load andfire deliberately, watching their opportunity to pick off the gunnerson the hill. In vain are all the efforts of Longstreet to dislodgethem. Solid shot, shells, canister, and shrapnel are thrown towardsthe hollow, but without avail. A solitary oak-tree near is torn andbroken by the artillery fire, and pitted with musket-balls, and theground is furrowed with the deadly missiles; but the men keep theirposition through the weary hours. The division is composed of twobrigades,—Nagles's, containing the Sixth and Ninth New Hampshire,Seventh Rhode Island, Forty-Eighth Pennsylvania, and Second Maryland;and Ferrero's, containing the Twenty-First and Thirty-FifthMassachusetts, Eleventh New Hampshire. Fifty-First Pennsylvania, andFifty-First New York.

A second attempt is made upon the hill. Humphrey's division, composedof Tyler's and Briggs's brigade of Pennsylvanians, nearly all newtroops, leads the advance, followed closely by Morrell's division ofveterans. The lines move steadily over the field, under cover of thebatteries which have been brought up and planted in the streets.Sturgis pours a constant stream of fire upon the sunken road. Thusaided, they reach the base of the hill in front of Maryee's, deliver afew volleys, and then with thinned ranks retire once more to theshelter of the ridge.

The day is waning. Franklin has failed. He telegraphs that it is toolate to make another attack on the left. Not so does Sumner think onthe right. He is a brave old man, fearless in battle, counting humanlife of little value if victory can be won by its sacrifice. He walksto and fro by the Lacey House like a chained lion. Burnside will notlet him cross(p. 172) the river. Time has ploughed deep furrows onhis face. His hair is white as the driven snow. He is grim and gruff;his voice is deep, and he has rough words for those who falter induty; but he has a tender heart. He dotes upon his son, and calls him"Sammy" familiarly. He cannot bear to have him gone long from hisside, but yet is ready to send him into the thickest of the fight. Hecannot see the day lost without another struggle, and orders a thirdattack.

Humphrey, Morrell, Getty, Sykes, and Howard, or portions of theirdivisions, are brought up. The troops have been under arms from earlydaylight. They have had no food. All day they have been exposed to thefire of the Rebel batteries, and have lost heavily. Brooks's divisionof the Sixth Corps moves up Deep Run to engage in the last attack. Allthe batteries on both sides of the river are once more brought intoaction. Getty moves up Hazel Run to take the Rebels in flank, who areprotected by the sunken road at the base of the hill.

THE LAST ATTACK.

It is sunset. The troops move out once more upon the open plain, andcross the field with a cheer. The ground beneath them is alreadycrimson with the blood of their fallen comrades. They reach the baseof the hill. Longstreet brings down all his reserves. The hillside,the plain, the crest of the ridge, the groves and thickets, the secondrange of hills beyond Maryee's, the hollow, the sunken road, arebright flashes. Two hundred cannon strike out fierce defiance,—fortythousand muskets and rifles flame!

The Rebels are driven from the stone-walls, and the sunken road, andthe rifle-pit midway the hill. The blue wave mounts all but to the topof the crest. It threatens to overwhelm the Rebel batteries. But wewho watch it behold its power decreasing. Men begin to come down thehill singly and in squads, and at length in masses. The third and lastattempt has failed. The divisions return, leaving the plain and thehillside strown with thousands of brave men who have fallen in theineffectual struggle.

There was no fighting on Sunday, the 14th, but General Burnside waspreparing to make another attack. He had eighteen(p. 173) of his oldregiments in the Ninth Corps, who would go wherever he sent them. Hethought that they would carry the heights.

"I hope," said General Sumner, "that you will desist from an attack. Ido not know of any general officer who approves it, and I think itwill prove disastrous to the army."

The advice was followed, and it was then decided to withdraw the army.

The wind on Tuesday night blew a gale from the southwest. Hay andstraw were laid upon the bridges to deaden the sound of the artillerywheels. It began to rain before morning; and the Rebels, littledreaming of what was taking place, remained in their quarters.

Before daylight the whole army had recrossed the river, and thebridges were taken up. Great were their amazement and wonder when theRebels looked down from the heights and saw the Union army once moreon the northern bank, beyond the reach of their guns.

General Burnside lost about ten thousand men, while the loss of theRebels was about five thousand. The defeat was disheartening to thearmy. But though repulsed, the soldiers felt that they were notbeaten; they had failed because General Burnside's plans had not beenheartily entered into by some of the officers. But the patriotic flameburned as brightly as ever, and they had no thought of giving up thecontest.

Tattoo.

(p. 174) CHAPTER XII.
THE WINTER AT FALMOUTH.

After the battle of Fredericksburg, both armies prepared for thewinter. Two great cities of log-huts sprang up in the dense forests onboth sides of the Rappahannock, peopled by more than two hundredthousand men. It was surprising to see how quickly the soldiers madethemselves comfortable in huts chinked with mud and roofed with splitshingles. These rude dwellings had a fireplace at one end, doors hungon leathern hinges, and bunks one above another, like berths in asteamboat.

There the men told stories, played checkers and cards, read thenewspapers, wrote letters to their friends far away, and kept closewatch all the while upon the Rebels.

But there were dark days and dreary nights. It tried their enduranceand patriotism to stand all night upon picket, with the north-windhowling around them and the snow whirling into drifts. There wererainy days, and weeks of mud, when there was no drilling, and whenthere was nothing to do. Then chaplains, with books and papers undertheir arms, were welcomed everywhere. General Howard thus boretestimony to the labors of one who was not a chaplain, but an agent ofthe American Tract Society from Boston,—Rev. Mr. Alvord:—

"There is a great and good man,—great because he is good and because he is practical,—who has followed the Army of the Potomac from the beginning. He takes his papers, and goes himself and circulates them as far as he is able, and, by the agency of others, gets them into nearly every regiment in the army. And you should see the soldiers cluster around him! When his wagon drives up in front of a regiment, the soldiers pour out with life, circle round him, and beg for books and tracts,—for anything he has. Some of them want papers to read for themselves, and others to select pieces out of them to send home. I could hardly believe it, that there was such eagerness on the(p. 175) part of soldiers for such reading until I saw it with my own eyes. 'Give me a paper,' 'Give me a paper,' 'Give me a tract,' 'Give me a book,' is the impatient cry. Very frequently ladies have sent tracts and books to my tent, and on the Sabbath-day I have taken them myself to distribute, and I have scarcely ever had to ask a soldier to receive one of them. Indeed, if you give to one or two, the others will feel jealous if neglected."[19]

The magic lantern in the hospital.

Said a chaplain:—

"I am besieged by those who want something good to read. In my rounds I am followed at my elbow. 'Please, sir, can you spare me one?' They hail me from a distance: 'Are you coming down this way, chaplain?' It is a pleasant thing to pause in these travels through the parish and look back upon the white waves that rise in the wake of one's course. Sports are hushed, swearing is charmed away, all are reading,—Sabbath has come."

In some regiments, where the officers co-operated with chaplains toelevate the morals of men, few oaths were heard.

One day General Howard started out with a handful of leaflets onswearing, with the intention of giving one to every man whom he heardusing profane language. He went from regiment to regiment and frombrigade to brigade of his division, and returned to his tent withouthearing an oath.

"I have been all through my division to-day," he said, "visiting thehospitals, and I haven't heard a single man swear. Isn't it strange?"

One of the citizens of Falmouth came to General Howard for a guard.

"You favored secession, I suppose," said the General.

"I stuck for the Union till Virginia went out of the Union. I had togo with her."

"You have a son in the Rebel army."

"Yes, sir; but he enlisted of his own accord."

"The soldiers steal your chickens, you say?"

"Yes, they take everything they can lay their hands upon, and I want aguard to protect my property."

"If you and all your neighbors had voted against secession, you wouldnot need a guard. No, sir, you can't have(p. 176) one. When you havegiven as much to your country as I have I will give you one, but nottill then," said the General, pointing to his empty sleeve. He losthis right arm at Fair Oaks.

It was a gloomy winter, but the Sanitary and Christian Commissionsgave their powerful aid towards maintaining the health and morals andspirits of the army. The Christian Commission opened six stations,from which they dispensed supplies of books and papers and food forthe sick, not regularly furnished by the medical department. Religiousmeetings were held nightly, conducted by the soldiers, marked by deepsolemnity. Veterans who had passed through all the trials andtemptations of a soldier's life gave testimony of the peace and joythey had in believing in Jesus. Others asked what they should do toobtain the same comfort. Many who had faced death unflinchingly atWilliamsburg, Fair Oaks, Malvern, and Antietam, who had been everindifferent to the claim of religion, became like little children asthey listened to their comrades singing,

"Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in thee."

It was not sentimentalism. A soldier who has been through a half-dozenbattles is the last person in the world to indulge in sentiment. Heabove all men understands reality. Thus led by the sweet music and thefervent prayers of their comrades, they rejoiced in the hope that theyhad found forgiveness of sins through the blood of the Son of God.

At Falmouth, an old tobacco-warehouse on the bank of the river, withinhail of the Rebel pickets, was cleared of rubbish, the broken ceilingand windows covered with canvas, a rude pulpit erected, where onSabbath afternoons and every evening meetings were held, a Sabbathschool was organized, also a day school. One of the soldiersestablished a school for the instruction of the children of thevillage. Often in the calm twilight of the mild winter days the Rebelpicket pacing his beat upon the opposite bank stopped, and leaningupon his gun, listened to the hymns of devotion wafted on the eveningair.

The Christian commission in the field.

He could have sent a bullet whistling through the building,(p. 177) but there was a mutual understanding among the pickets notto fire, and so the meetings were undisturbed.

In the Forty-Fourth Now York Regiment, known as the EllsworthAvengers, were two young soldiers whose hearts were woven togetherwith Christian zeal. They had no chaplain; but they established aprayer-meeting, holding it beside a stump, in a retired place. Theyobtained permission of the colonel to build a log chapel. They had todraw the logs a mile, but they had faith and energy, and laid out abuilding sixteen by thirty-two feet square. Rev. Mr. Alvord, the agentof a Tract Society, gives the following account of their labors.

Thus, fighting, marching, singing, praying, teaching the ignorant,trusting in God, never wavering in their faith of the ultimate triumphof right, they passed the weary winter.

Busy fingers.

(p. 179) CHAPTER XIII.
CHANCELLORSVILLE.

General Burnside having accepted the command of the army withreluctance, was relieved at his own request, and General Hooker wasappointed his successor. He made a thorough reorganization. The systemof grand divisions was abolished, and the corps organization adopted.The First Corps was commanded by General Sickles, the Fifth by GeneralMeade, the Sixth by General Sedgwick, the Eleventh by General Howard,and the Twelfth by General Slocum. The cavalry was consolidated into asingle corps, under General Stoneman. General Hooker intended to usethe cavalry as it had not been used up to that time.

The vigor manifested by General Hooker in the reorganization, and theconfidence of the soldiers in him as a commander, gave new hope to thearmy. He reduced the number of wagons in the trains, and informed theofficers that they would be allowed only a limited amount of baggage.He issued orders that the troops should have rations of fresh bread,cabbages, and onions, in abundance. Merit was commended. Officers andmen who had proved themselves efficient were allowed leave of absence,before the opening of the spring campaign. Regiments which had shownincapacity and loose discipline were allowed no favors. Only elevenregiments in the whole army were highly commended. Some were severelycensured as wanting those qualities which make a good regiment. Thisadministration of affairs soon produced a perceptible change in thespirits of the men.

There were frequent rains, which prevented any movement during thewinter; but General Hooker was not idle. He was obtaining information,from scouts and spies, of Lee's position and the number of his troops.He kept his designs so well to himself that even his most trustedofficers were not aware of(p. 180) them. But his plan embraced threefeatures: a cavalry movement under Stoneman towards Richmond, from theUpper Rappahannock, to destroy Lee's communications, burning bridgesand supplies; the deploy of a portion of the army down the river toattract Lee's attention; and, lastly, a sudden march of the main bodyup the river, to gain a position near Chancellorsville, southwest ofFredericksburg, which would compel Lee to come out and fight, orevacuate the place. If he gained the position, he could stand on thedefensive and wait Lee's movements. He decided that Lee should be theattacking party.

Lee had sent two divisions of Longstreet's corps under that officer toNorth Carolina, and Hampton's cavalry was recruiting south of theJames River. It was a favorable opportunity to strike a heavy blow.

On the 27th of April the Eleventh Corps, under Howard, and theTwelfth, under Slocum, at half past five in the morning started forKelley's Ford by the Hartwood Church road.

The Third, under Sickles, and the Fifth, under Meade, moved at thesame time, by a road nearer the river, in the same direction. TheSecond, under Couch, went towards United States Ford, which is onlythree miles from Chancellorsville. A dense fog hung over the river,concealing the movement. The Eleventh, Twelfth, and Fifth Corpsmarched fourteen miles during the day, and bivouacked at four o'clockin the afternoon a mile west of Hartwood Church. To Lee, who lookedacross the river from Fredericksburg, there was no change in theappearance of things on the Stafford hills. The camps of the Yankeeswere still there, dotting the landscape, teams were moving to and fro,soldiers were at drill, and the smoke of camp-fires was curlingthrough the air.

During the evening of the 27th the pontoons belonging to the SixthCorps were taken from the wagons, carried by the soldiers down to theriver, and put into the water so noiselessly that the Rebel picketsstationed on the bank near Bernard's house had no suspicion of whatwas going on. The boats were manned by Russell's brigade. At a givensignal they were pushed rapidly across the stream, and, before theRebel pickets were aware of the movement, they found themselvesprisoners. The First Corps went a mile farther down, to(p. 181)Southfield. It was daylight before the engineers of this corps couldget their boats into the water. The Rebel sharpshooters who were lyingin rifle-pits along the bank commenced a deadly fire. To silence them,Colonel Warner placed forty pieces of artillery on the high bankoverlooking the river, under cover of which the boats crossed, and thesoldiers, leaping ashore, charged up the bank and captured one hundredand fifty Rebels. The engineers in a short time had both bridgescompleted. General Wadsworth's division of the First Corps was thefirst to cross the lower bridge. General Wadsworth had becomeimpatient, and, instead of waiting for the completion of thestructure, swam his horse across the stream. General Brooks, of theSixth Corps, was the first to cross the bridge at Bernard's.

It was now five o'clock in the morning. There was great commotion inFredericksburg. A courier dashed into town on horseback, shouting,"The Yankees are crossing down the river."[20] The church-bells wererung. The people who had returned to the town after the battle of the13th of December sprang from their beds. They went out and stood uponMaryee's Hill, looked across the river, and saw the country alive withtroops.

"All through the day," wrote the correspondent of the RichmondExaminer, "the Yankee balloons were in the air at a great height,and the opposite side of the river, as far as the eye could reach, wasblue with their crowded columns."[21]

The drummers beat the long-roll. "Fall in! Fall in!" was the cry, andthe whole army was quickly under arms. The movement was a surprise toGeneral Lee.

The crossing of the First and Sixth Corps was slow and deliberate."They continued to cross," says the same writer, "until two o'clock P.M.,—infantry, artillery, and wagons. They swarmed irregularly overthe fields and bluffs, of which they had taken possession, seeming notto have fallen into ranks. About five P. M. a light rain commenced,when they pitched their tents, and seemed to make themselves at home."

In order to deceive General Lee, only Wadsworth's and Brooks'sdivisions were sent over in the forenoon; but portions(p. 182) of theother divisions, which had been concealed behind a belt of woods, wereput in motion, and marched along the crest of the ridge, through anopen field, in sight of the Rebels, as though on their way down theriver; but, instead of crossing, were marched up through a gullyaround the hill to their starting-point, and were again moved over thesame ground,—a circus-march, calculated to deceive the Rebels intothinking that the whole army was moving in that direction. A part ofJackson's corps had been lying at Shinker's Neck, several miles belowFredericksburg, which Lee ordered to Hamilton's crossing, occupyingthe same position that it held in the first battle.

It was night before the remainder of the Sixth Corps crossed thestream, while the other two divisions of the First Corps stillremained on the northern bank. Lee could not comprehend this new stateof affairs. The night of the 28th passed, and no advance was made bythe Sixth Corps. The morning of the 29th saw them in the sameposition, evidently in no haste to make an attack.

Meanwhile the main body of the army was making a rapid march up theriver. The Eleventh Corps reached Kelley's Ford, twenty-eight milesabove Falmouth, at half past four in the afternoon. The pontoonsarrived at six o'clock. Four hundred men went over in the boats, andseized the Rebel rifle-pits, capturing a few prisoners, who werestationed there to guard the Ford. As soon as the bridge wascompleted, the troops began to cross. The Seventeenth Pennsylvaniacavalry preceded the infantry, pushed out on the road leading toCulpepper, and encountered a detachment of Stuart's cavalry.

On the morning of the 29th, the Twelfth Corps, followed by theEleventh, made a rapid march to Germanna Ford, on the Rapidan, whilethe Fifth Corps took the road leading to Ely's Ford. When the TwelfthCorps arrived at Germanna Ford at three o'clock in the afternoon, theRebels were discovered building a bridge. About one hundred of themwere taken prisoners. Instead of waiting for the pontoons to be laid,the Twelfth forded the stream, which was deep and swift; but the menheld their cartridge-boxes over their heads, and thus kept theirpowder dry.

(p. 183) It was not till the afternoon of the 29th that Lee understoodHooker's movement. At sunset Stuart reported that a heavy column ofYankees was crossing the Germanna Ford, that there was another atEly's, and still another at United States Ford. Lee saw that theroutes, after crossing the Rapidan, converged near Chancellorsville,from whence several roads led to the rear of his position atFredericksburg.

On the morning of the 30th, Hooker's army was in the followingposition: The Eleventh and Twelfth Corps at Germanna Ford, movingsoutheast; the Fifth Corps at Ely's Ford, moving south; the SecondCorps, followed by the Third, at United States Ford, marchingsouthwest; the First Corps passing up the river from its positionbelow Fredericksburg, making a rapid march to join the Second Corps atUnited States Ford; the Sixth Corps, meanwhile, lying inactive on theplain by Bernard's house.

The movement was admirably made, each corps coming into position atthe appointed place and time, showing that the plan had been wellmatured in the mind of the commander-in-chief.

Early on the morning of the 30th the Eleventh Corps, followed by theTwelfth, moved from Germanna Ford down the Stevensburg plank-road tothe Old Wilderness Tavern, which is about a mile and a half west ofChancellorsville. The latter place, at the time of the battle,consisted of one brick house. The country around Chancellorsville iscalled "the Wilderness." Years ago a considerable portion of the landwas cleared, but the system of cultivation carried on by theVirginians quickly exhausted the soil, and the fields were left togrow up again to bushes. A short distance beyond the old tavern isDowdal's Tavern, near the junction of the Stevensburg plank-road, andthe Orange turnpike, leading to Gordonsville. Hunting Run has itshead-waters near the Stevensburg plank-road, and flows north to theRapidan. There is an old saw-mill on the creek, which was used as ahospital by the Twelfth Corps during the battle. Near Dowdal's tavernis an old church, and on the right-hand side of the road, as we gotoward Chancellorsville from Dowdal's, there is a cleared field onelevated land, which was the centre of Hooker's line at the beginningof the battle. Several roads diverge from Chancellorsville,—the(p. 184) Orange and Fredericksburg plank-road and the Gordonsvilleturnpike, both leading to Fredericksburg; also roads to United Statesand Ely's Fords; also one leading south across Scott's Run.

At noon of the 30th the Eleventh Corps reached its assigned position,between the Germanna road and Dowdal's tavern, forming the right flankof Hooker's line. The Third Corps, which had crossed at Ely's Ford,came down through the woods across Hunting Run, and formed on the leftof the Eleventh, by the tavern. The Twelfth Corps filed past theEleventh, along the Stevensburg road, and the Third Corps passedChancellorsville, and moved almost to Tabernacle Church, on the Orangeand Fredericksburg plank-road. The Second Corps, having crossed atUnited States Ford, came into position a mile or more in rear of theEleventh and Third, while the Fifth moved up and formed a line facingsoutheast, reaching from Chancellorsville to Scott's Dam on theRappahannock, a mile and a half north of Chancellorsville.

Stuart, commanding the Rebel cavalry, had skirmished with the EleventhCorps on its march, but when the Third, which crossed at Ely's,reached Chancellorsville, Stuart found that he was cut off from directcommunication with Lee, and was obliged to move to Todd's Tavern andSpottsylvania Court-House, to put himself in connection with theinfantry of the Rebel army. Lee was still undecided what to do, butfinally determined to leave Early's division of Jackson's corps, andBarksdale's brigade of McLaw's division, and a part of the reserveartillery under Pendleton, to hold Fredericksburg, and move with therest of the army to Chancellorsville and fight Hooker. He had alreadysent Anderson's division to watch the movement. Slocum's skirmishersmet Anderson's at Chancellorsville and drove them back to TabernacleChurch. Anderson, finding that Slocum was advancing, formed across theroads, and was in this position at dark on the night of the 30th.

On the morning of the 1st of May the whole Rebel army, except what wasleft to watch Sedgwick, was put in motion, with the intention ofmaking a direct attack. Anderson advanced upon Slocum, who fell backunder instructions to Chancellorsville, and filled the gap betweenthe Third and Fifth.(p. 185) Lee followed, intending to give battle,but he found Hooker in a position of such strength that he hesitated.Lee says:—

This movement of Lee's was very bold and hazardous. It divided hisarmy into three parts,—one part watching the Sixth Corps atFredericksburg, another between Chancellorsville and Fredericksburg,and the force under Jackson, accompanied by Stuart's cavalry, movingto get in the rear of Hooker. Jackson was obliged to make a longcircuit by Todd's Tavern and the Furnace Road, moving first southwesttoward Spottsylvania, then west toward Orange Court-House, then northtoward the Rapidan, then east toward the old saw-mill on Hunting Run.Rodes's division reached the Old Wilderness Tavern about four o'clockin the afternoon. As the different divisions arrived they were formedacross the Stevensburg plank-road, Rodes in front, Trimble's divisionunder General Colston in the second, and A. P. Hill in the third line.

General Hooker, having decided to fight a defensive battle, orderedthe construction of rifle-pits, and while Jackson was making thisdetour the position was strongly fortified against(p. 186) an attackfrom the direction of Fredericksburg. Early in the day it was reportedthat Lee was retreating rapidly toward Culpepper Court-House. From thecleared field occupied by Sickles the Rebel column could be seenmoving southwest,—artillery, baggage-train, and infantry. It wasgenerally believed in Hooker's army that Lee, finding the position tooimpregnable, was retiring. Sickles and Howard thought differently.

"Lee has divided his army, and now is the time to strike," saidGeneral Sickles to Hooker.

General Hooker hesitated. His plan was to stand wholly on thedefensive. Still the column filed by.

"The enemy is on my flank," was the message from Howard. "We can hearthe sound of their axes in the woods."[22]

"Now is the time to double up Lee," said Sickles, again urging anattack.[23]

"You may go out and feel the enemy, but don't go too fast, nor toofar," said Hooker, at last yielding.

It is nearly two miles southwest from Chancellorsville to Wellford'siron furnace, which is situated on the Ny River, the north branch ofthe Mattapony. The road which passes the furnace, and along whichJackson was hastening, is a byroad from the plank-road east ofChancellorsville, to the Brock Road, which runs from Todd's Tavernnorthwest to the Old Wilderness Tavern. Archer's and Thomas's brigadesof A. P. Hill's division were at the furnace when Sickles receivedpermission to move out. They were the rear brigades of Jackson'scolumn. Sickles lost no time in putting his divisions in motion.Berdan's sharpshooters were thrown out in advance as skirmishers, andthe infantry with artillery followed; but the artillery was compelledto halt till a bridge could be constructed across a small creek. Itwas about four o'clock when the head of the column reached the roadover which Jackson had marched. Archer was nearly a mile west of thefurnace when the sharpshooters reached the road, where they suddenlyfell upon the Twenty-Third Georgia. This regiment had been detachedfrom Colquitt's brigade of D. H. Hill's division, and was posted on(p. 187) the north side of the road, as a flanking party, to cover themarch of the troops.

There was a sudden commotion in Archer's and Thomas's brigades.Brown's battery was wheeled into position, and, with the Twenty-ThirdGeorgia and Fourteenth Tennessee, opened fire upon Sickles. Theteamsters of the Rebel baggage-trains fled into the woods.

A courier dashed up the road to inform Archer what had happened, butbefore the news reached him the Twenty-Third Georgia was in the handsof Sickles. Archer faced about, and formed his lines.

Anderson all the while was skirmishing with Slocum, to attractHooker's attention, while Jackson was getting into position, but hewas now obliged to send Wright, Posey, and Mahan to the assistance ofArcher and Thomas. They attacked Sickles's left flank, while Archerand Thomas attacked his right. The contest waxed warm.

"Don't go too fast," was Hooker's injunction again to Sickles.

"I want a brigade to fill the gap between myself and Howard," wasSickles's reply, and Barlow's brigade was sent. It was the best of theEleventh Corps. Howard had placed it in reserve just where he coulduse it to advantage, on either flank, in front, or centre.

The Eleventh Corps was formed in the following order: General Devens'sdivision on the right, between the Stevensburg road and the oldsaw-mill, facing northwest; General Schurz's division south of theplank-road, facing southwest; General Schimmelfennig's brigade ofSteinwehr's division also south of the road, reaching to Dowdal'sTavern; Barlow's brigade north of the road, in rear of the centre.

There was no want of precaution on the part of General Howard. GeneralHooker rode along the line with Howard on Saturday forenoon. Howardsays:—

"At one point a regiment was not deployed and at another a gap in the woods was not filled. The corrections were made and the position strengthened. The front was covered by a good line of skirmishers. I should have stated that just at evening of the 1st the enemy made a reconnoissance on our front with a small force of artillery and infantry. General Schimmelfennig moved out with a battalion and drove him(p. 189) back. During Saturday, the 2d, the same general made frequent reconnoissances. Infantry scouts and cavalry patrols were constantly pushed out on every road. The unvarying report was, 'The enemy is crossing the plank-road and moving towards Culpepper.' At 4 P. M. I was directed to send a brigade to the support of General Sickles. I immediately took Barlow's brigade by a short route to General Sickles's right, some two and a half miles from the plank-road to the front."[24]

Chancellorsville.

Union Positions.					Rebel Positions.
1.	Devens's Division.	5.	Sickles's (3) Corps.		A.	Stonewall Jackson's Corps.	C.	Anderson's Division.
2.	Schurz's"	6.	Slocum's (12)"			Front line Rodes's Division.	D.	McLaw's"
3.	Steinwehr's Division.	7.	Meade's (5)"			Middle line Colston's Division.	T.	Tavern.
4.	Barlow's Brigade before moving to reinforce Sickles.	8.	Couch's (2)"			Third line A. P. Hill's"
		9.	Cavalry.		B.	Archer's and Wright's Brigades.

It was six o'clock. There was a gap from Dowdal's Tavern almost toChancellorsville, from which Sickles had moved. Slocum had advancedbeyond Chancellorsville southeast. The sending out of Sickles andBarlow, the advance of Slocum, and the position of the Second Corps,so far away to the rear, left Howard without any supports.

Jackson came through the woods upon Howard's skirmishers, who firedand fell back. The firing attracted the attention of the men along thelines, who were cooking their suppers. Occasional shots had been firedduring the afternoon, and there was no alarm till the skirmishers cameout of the woods upon the run, followed by the Rebels. The men seizedtheir arms; but, before Devens could get his regiments into position,the Rebels were approaching his right flank, firing quick volleys andyelling like savages. Some of Devens's command fled, throwing awaytheir guns and equipments. Others fought bravely. Devens, whileendeavoring to rally his men, was wounded; several of his officersfell; yet he held his ground till the Rebels gained his rear and beganfiring into the backs of the men who stood behind the breastwork. Thenthe line gave way, abandoning five guns.

Howard was at his head-quarters, by Dowdal's. Schurz also was therewhen the attack commenced. He says:—

"I sent my chief of staff to the front when firing was heard. General Schurz, who was with me, left at once to take command of his line. It was not three minutes before I followed. When I reached General Schurz's command, I saw that the enemy had enveloped my right, and that the first division [Devens's] was giving way. I first tried to change front with the deployed regiments. I next directed the artillery where to go; then formed a line, by deploying some of the reserve regiments, near the church. By this time the whole front, on the north of(p. 190) the plank-road, had given way. Colonel Burshbeck's brigade was faced about, and, lying on the other side of the rifle-pit embankment, held on with praiseworthy firmness. A part of General Schimmelfennig's and a part of Colonel Krzyzanouski's brigades moved gradually back to the north of the plank-road, and kept up their fire. At the centre, and near the plank-road, there was a blind panic and great confusion. By the assistance of my staff and some other officers, one of whom was Colonel Dickinson, of General Hooker's staff, the rout was considerably checked, and all the artillery except eight pieces withdrawn. Some of the artillery was well served, and told effectively on the advancing enemy. Captain Dilger kept up a continuous fire, till we reached General Birney's position."[25]

The Rebel troops which first made their appearance, and whichenveloped Howard's right, were commanded by General Doles, who says:—

"At five o'clock P. M. the order was given to advance against the enemy. The brigade moved as rapidly as possible through a very thick wood, and skirmishers were immediately engaged by those of the enemy. Our forces marching rapidly forward assisted in driving in the enemy's sharpshooters, when we were subjected to a heavy musket fire, and grape, canister, and shell. The command was ordered to attack the enemy in his intrenched position, drive him from it, and take his batteries. The order was promptly obeyed; the Fourth and Forty-Fourth Georgia assaulted his position in front; the Twenty-First Georgia was ordered to flank him so as to enfilade his intrenchments; the Twelfth Georgia was ordered forward, and to the right, to attack a force of the enemy on the right. After a resistance of about ten minutes we drove him from his position on the left, and carried his battery of two guns, caissons, and horses. The movement of the Twelfth Georgia on the right was successful. The order to forward was given, when the command moved forward at the 'double-quick' to assault the enemy who had taken up a strong position on the crest of a hill in the open field. He was soon driven from this position, the command pursuing him. He madea stubborn resistance from behind a wattling fence, on a hill thickly covered with pine. The whole command moved gallantly against this position, the Fourth and Forty-Fourth Georgia in front, and the Twenty-First and Twelfth on his left flank and rear. Here we captured one gun,—a rifled piece. We pursued his retreating forces about three hundred yards over an open field, receiving a severe fire from(p. 191) musketry and a battery of four pieces on the crest of the hill that commanded the field below; his infantry was in large force, and well protected by rifle-pits and intrenchments. The command was ordered to take the intrenchments and the battery,which was done after a resistance of about twenty minutes. The enemy fled in utter confusion, leaving his battery of four pieces, his wounded, and many prisoners. The Twelfth Georgia and the larger portion of the other regiments was formed in good order, and pursued him through the pine forest, moving some five hundred yards to the front, and holding that position until after dark. Fresh troops having been placed in that position after dark, I ordered the command to retire for the purpose of replenishing ammunitions, the men being entirely out. During this engagement, which lasted from about 5-1/2 to 9 P. M., the command captured eight pieces of artillery and many prisoners."[26]

It is manifest, that while a portion of the Eleventh Corps becamepanic-stricken, a large number of Howard's troops fought with greatbravery. The corps numbered about thirteen thousand five hundred onthe morning of May 1st.

The force under Howard at the time of the attack did not exceed eleventhousand, mainly raw German troops. Howard's total loss in killed,wounded, and prisoners was two thousand five hundred and twenty-eight.Twenty-five officers and one hundred and fifty-three men were killed,seventy-eight officers and eight hundred and forty-two wounded,—atotal loss of one thousand and ninety-eight killed and wounded, whichshows the severity of this brief conflict.

The Eleventh Corps has been severely censured for pusillanimousconduct in this battle; but when all of the facts are taken intoconsideration,—that Howard had no supports to call upon; that theThird Corps was two miles and a half from its position in the line;that Barlow's brigade had been sent away; that the attack was asurprise; that Jackson's force exceeded thirty thousand; that,notwithstanding these disadvantages, a "stubborn resistance" wasoffered,—praise instead of censure is due to those of the Eleventhwho thus held their ground, till one fourth of their number werekilled, wounded, or taken prisoners.

Almost at the beginning of the attack Devens was wounded.(p. 192) Inthe confusion and panic, there was no one to take his place tillHoward arrived. Hooker was at once in his saddle.

"The enemy have attacked Howard and driven him in," was his word toSickles.

"That can't be," said Sickles, incredulous.

"Return at once," was the order from Hooker, by a second messenger.

The heavy firing, constantly growing nearer, gave force to theinstruction.

It was now quite dark. Sickles set out to return with all possiblehaste, but soon found that he had got to fight his way back. Jackson'sleft wing had swept round, till it rested upon the road, over which hehad marched on his way out to the Furnace. Berry's division came firstupon the enemy. A severe contest ensued, lasting till nine o'clock,when he succeeded in re-establishing his connection with Howard, whohad thus far fought the battle almost alone. Lee, with Anderson'scommand, all the while was making a demonstration against the Twelfthand Fifth Corps east of Chancellorsville, and the Second was too farin rear to be of any service to Howard before the return of Sicklesand Barlow.

Jackson gained no advantage after his first attack, but on the otherhand came near experiencing a panic in his own lines. General Colstonsays:—

"We continued to drive the enemy until darkness prevented our farther advance. The firing now ceased, owing to the difficult and tangled nature of the ground over which the troops had advanced, and the mingling of my first and second lines of battle. The formation of the troops became very much confused, and different regiments, brigades, and divisions were mixed up together.... The troops were hardly reformed and placed in position when the enemy opened, about ten o'clock, a furious fire of shot, shell, and canister, sweeping down the plank-road and the woods on each side. A number of artillery horses, some of them without drivers, and a great many infantry soldiers, belonging to other commands, rushed down the road in wild disorder; but, although many casualties occurred at this time in my division, the troops occupied their position with the utmost steadiness. It was at this time that General Nichols, of the Louisiana Brigade (Fourth), a gallant and accomplished officer, had his leg torn off by a shell, and was carried off the field. It was also about the same time that our great, and good(p. 193) and ever to be lamented corps commander fell under the fire of some of the men of General Lane's brigade."[27]

Under cover of the fire of the artillery, Berry's division of theThird Corps attacked Jackson. The Rebel commander had just placed A.P. Hill's division in the front line, and was contemplating an attackupon Sickles, when Berry advanced. His biographer says:—

Thus fell a commander endowed with qualities calculated to stir thewarmest enthusiasm of the people of the South. He was brave, daring,energetic, impulsive,—the most competent of all the Rebel generals tolead a charge,—but not esteemed so able as Lee to conduct a campaign.He was deeply religious, but espoused Treason with all his heart. Hewas educated at the expense of the United States, and had sworn tobear faithful allegiance to his country; yet he joined the Rebels atthe outset, and did what he could to inaugurate and carry to asuccessful issue a civil war for the overthrow of the nationalgovernment and the establishing of another with slavery for itscorner-stone! He prayed and fought for a system of servitude which wasthe sum of all villanies, and which has received the condemnation ofevery civilized nation of modern times.

Not according to the measure of his military prowess, nor by hissincerity of heart or religious convictions and exercises, willHistory judge him, but, connecting the man with the cause which heespoused, will hold him accountable for blood shed in a war waged tosustain human slavery, under the specious doctrine of the Rights ofStates.

When the assault was made on Howard, the first move on the part ofHooker was to arrange for a new line.

Captain Best, commanding the artillery of the Twelfth Corps, broughtthirty-six guns into position between Chancellorsville and Dowdal's,sweeping the fields to the south and southwest, the Orangeburgplank-road, and the breastworks which Buschbeck had abandoned, andbehind which the Rebels were forming for a second attack. Under coverof this fire, Birney and Whipple came back from Scott's Creek;Williams's division, which had been pushed out southeast ofChancellorsville, on the road to Fredericksburg, was drawn in.

Battery at Chancellorsville.

When the Twelfth Corps got back to its place in the line, most ofHoward's works were in possession of the enemy.(p. 195) Williams nowcrossed his own intrenchments, and formed in the field, facingwestward.

"Stand steady, old Third Brigade. Stand steady, old SecondMassachusetts," was the address of the Brigadier.

So stood the line, while Best poured in his tremendous artillery fire,and while Berry pushed the Rebels back into the woods.

Jackson and A. P. Hill having been wounded, the command devolved onGeneral Stuart, who arrived at midnight and made a reconnoissance ofthe lines.

East of Chancellorsville Slocum and Meade were having a severe fightwith the Rebels under Lee, who says in his report:—

"As soon as the sound of cannon gave notice of Jackson's attack on the enemy's right, our troops in front of Chancellorsville were ordered to press him strongly on the left, to prevent reinforcements being sent to the point assailed. They were directed not to attack in force, unless a favorable opportunity should present itself, and while continuing to cover the roads leading from their respective positions, toward Chancellorsville, to incline to the left so as to connect with Jackson's right as he closed in upon the centre. These orders were well executed, our troops advancing up to the enemy's intrenchments, while several batteries played with good effect upon his lines, until prevented by increasing darkness."[29]

Anderson's division advanced rapidly up the Fredericksburg road,charging upon Kane's brigade of Geary's division, composed of newtroops, which, after a short resistance, retreated in confusion. Anaid from Slocum came down to Hooker for reinforcements. "No," saidHooker, "he must hold his own. Let Geary's division, however, bethrown to the right of the road, that the artillery may be able tosweep the enemy on the left." This was done, and the heavy fire thatwas given by Knapp's and other batteries checked Anderson's advance. Aconstant demonstration was kept up by Anderson to deceive Hooker as toLee's intentions. Thus the night passed.

THE BATTLE OF SUNDAY.

Both armies were busy through the night, preparing for the greatstruggle,—Lee to attack and Hooker to defend. The(p. 196) woundedwere sent to the rear, also the baggage trains, and the cavalry, andeverything which could impede operations. Hooker's line was in theform of the letter V. The Second Corps, which had followed Berry upthe night before, occupied the right of the line, reaching nearly downto the river, joining the left flank upon Berry's division of theThird Corps, which extended to the plank-road, west ofChancellorsville. Whipple's and Birney's divisions of the Third, andGeary's division of the Twelfth, formed the point of the letter V,which enclosed Chancellorsville. The other divisions of the TwelfthCorps and the Fifth Corps forming the other side of the letter,extended from Chancellorsville to the Rappahannock. The Eleventh Corpswas placed in position to support the Fifth on the extreme left of theline. During the day the First Corps under Reynolds came up the river,crossed at United States Ford, and wheeled into position on the rightof the Second Corps, thus forming the extreme right of the line. Thetroops had been busy through the night erecting breastworks, while alarge number of guns were placed in position to sweep all the roads.Stuart renewed the fight at daylight, with Hill in the front line,Colston in the second, and Rodes in the third. He advanced with theintention of breaking the line near Chancellorsville. His troops wereexasperated by the loss of their leader, and were animated by revenge.They came through the woods almost in solid mass. Colston's andRodes's men, pressing eagerly forward, and closing up the spacesbetween the lines. They received, without flinching, the terrible firewhich flamed from Berry's and Birney's and Whipple's lines. Theycharged upon Sickles's outer works, and carried them.

They advanced upon the second line, but were cut up by Best'sartillery. Companies and regiments melted away. Berry and Birneyadvance to meet them. The living waves rolled against each other likethe billows of a stormy sea. The Rebels, as if maddened by theobstinacy of those who held the position, rushed up to the muzzles ofthe cannon. Sickles sent for reinforcements. Hooker ordered French andHancock of the Second Corps to advance and attack Stuart in flank.

It was seven o'clock in the morning. The battle had been(p. 197)raging since daylight. The two divisions of the Second Corps swung outfrom the main line, faced southwest, and moved upon Stuart.

South of Chancellorsville there is an elevation higher than thatoccupied by Best's artillery. When the fog which had hung over thebattle-field all the morning lifted, Stuart sent his artillery tooccupy the position. Thirty pieces were planted there, which enfiladedboth of Hooker's lines. A heavy artillery duel was kept up, but,notwithstanding the severity of the fire, the Union troops held theposition. Stuart, instead of breaking through Sickles, found theSecond Corps turning his own left flank. He says:—

"The enemy was pressing our left with infantry, and all the reinforcements I could obtain were sent there. Colquitt's brigade of Trimble's division, ordered first to the right, was directed to the left to support Pender. Iverson's brigade of the second line was also engaged there, and the three lines were more or less merged into one line of battle, and reported hard pressed. Urgent requests were sent for reinforcements, and notices that the troops were out of ammunition. I ordered that the ground must be held at all hazards, if necessary with the bayonet."[30]

All of the efforts of Stuart to break the line by a direct infantryattack failed. But his batteries massed on the hill were doing greatdamage. The shells swept down Birney's and Whipple's and Berry's rankson the one hand, and Geary's and Williams's on the other. Hooker sawthat the position could not be held without great loss of life.Preparations were accordingly made to fall back to a strongerposition, where his army would be more concentrated, the lines shorterand thicker, in the form of a semicircle. Meanwhile Lee swung Andersonround and joined Stuart, making a simultaneous advance of both wingsof his army, under cover of a heavy fire from all his availableartillery,—pouring a storm of shells upon Chancellorsville, firingthe buildings. Hooker had begun to retire before Lee advanced,withdrawing his artillery, removing his wounded, losing no prisoners.

Every attack of Anderson upon Slocum had been repulsed with greatloss. A South Carolina regiment came against the(p. 198) SecondMassachusetts. Three times the men from the Palmetto state chargedupon the men of Massachusetts. Three times the flag from the Old BayState changed hands. But, before the Rebels could carry it from thefield, it was rescued, and at the close of the fight was still in thehands of the regiment. When Slocum's troops had exhausted theirammunition they emptied the cartridge-boxes of the fallen. When thatwas gone they held the ground by the bayonet till ordered toretire.[31]

General Lee says:—

"By ten A. M. we were in full possession of the field. The troops, having become somewhat scattered, by the difficulties of the ground, and the ardor of the contest, were immediately reformed, preparatory to renewing the attack. The enemy had retired to a strong position near the Rappahannock, which he had previously fortified. His superiority of numbers, the unfavorable nature of the ground, which was densely wooded, and the condition of our troops, after the arduous and sanguinary conflict in which they had been engaged, rendered great caution necessary. Our preparations were just completed, when further operations were suspended by intelligence received from Fredericksburg."[32]

The new line taken by Hooker was one of great strength. No assault,with the intention of carrying it, was made by Lee. News of disasterfrom Fredericksburg, where Sedgwick was driving all before him, madeit necessary for him to send reinforcements in that direction.

SECOND BATTLE OF FREDERICKSBURG.

An important part of General Hooker's plan was Sedgwick's movement onFredericksburg, but the battle fought there on Sunday, the 3d of May,was wholly distinct from Chancellorsville. Early on the morning of the2d, Professor Lowe went up in his balloon from the Falmouth hills, andlooked down upon the city.

He reported the Rebels moving towards Chancellorsville. Lookingclosely into the intrenchments behind Fredericksburg he discoveredthat the Rebels intended to hold them. The(p. 199) WashingtonArtillery was behind the breastworks by Maryee's house.

"Ten thousand of the enemy, I should judge, still there," was hisreport to General Butterfield, Hooker's chief of staff, who remainedwith Sedgwick.

During the day Reynolds withdrew and moved up the Falmouth side toUnited States Ford. The Rebels saw the movement, and thought that theYankees did not dare to make a second attempt to drive them from theirintrenchments.

"Now is the time for Sedgwick to attack them," was Hooker's despatchfrom Chancellorsville, Saturday afternoon, to General Butterfield.

As soon as night came on, Sedgwick began his preparations. Theengineers were directed to take up the lower pontoons and lay a newbridge opposite the Lacy House, at the point where the SeventhMichigan and Nineteenth and Twentieth Massachusetts won for themselvesgreat honor on the 11th of December.

"Kindle no fires; let there be no loud talking," were Sedgwick'sorders to his troops on the plain by Bernard's house, below Deep Run.The men ate their suppers of hard-tack and cold meat in silence, threwthemselves upon the ground, and slept soundly in the calm moonlight.At midnight an aide rode along the lines, saying to each officer, "Getyour men in readiness at once." The men sprang to their feet, foldedtheir blankets, and were ready.

It was half past twelve Sunday morning before the forward movementbegan. The United States Chasseurs were in advance as skirmishers,deployed on both sides of the Bowling Green road. Shaler's brigadefollowed, then Wheaton's and Brown's brigades. They crossed Deep Run,where the skirmishers had a few shots with the Rebel pickets, andmoved into the town.

The engineers soon had the bridge completed, and Gibbon's division ofthe Second Corps, which had been waiting by the Lacy House, crossedthe stream.

Early stationed Barksdale, with seven companies of the Twenty-FirstMississippi, between Maryee's house and the plank-road, with theSeventeenth and Thirteenth Mississippi(p. 200) on the hills by theHowison house, and the Eighteenth and the remainder of theTwenty-First behind the stone-wall at the base of the hill. Hayes'sbrigade, consisting of the Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, and NinthLouisianians, was on the hill near the monument, with Wilcox's brigadein its rear, guarding Banks's Ford. Early himself was by Hazel Run,with Gordon's, Hoke's, and Smith's brigades.

Sedgwick's divisions were formed in the following order: Gibbon abovethe town in front of the monument, Newton in front of Maryee's Hill,Howe at the lower end of the town, and Brooks on the plain below.

The morning dawned. The fog prevented the Rebels from seeing themovements of Sedgwick, though Barksdale's pickets reported the townfull of Yankees. From Chancellorsville came the roar of battle, theconstant thunder of the cannonade. It was half past five when Shaler'sbrigade of Newton's division moved over the field where so manythousands fell on the 13th of December. It was a reconnoissance toascertain the position and number of the force holding the place. Themen marched on gallantly, but were forced to retire before theMississippians and the artillery on the hill.

Sedgwick brought Hearn's, Martin's, Adams's, and Hazard's batteries,and Battery D of the Second United States regiment of artillery, intoposition in the town and above it, while Hexamer's, the FirstMaryland, and McCartney's First Massachusetts occupied the groundbelow Hazel Run. McCartney was on the same spot which he occupied inthe first battle.

It was a day of peace everywhere except at Fredericksburg andChancellorsville. The air was laden with the fragrance of flowersblooming in the gardens of the town. Thousands of spectators stoodupon the Falmouth hills watching the contest. All the batteries wereat work,—the heavy guns at Falmouth, at the Lacy House, and fartherdown, throwing shells and solid shot over the town into the Rebellines.

Gibbon, instead of advancing directly up the hill towards themonument, where Hayes was lying behind the intrenchments, moved up theriver road, intending to turn Hayes's right flank. Hayes moved hismen farther up, and sent a courier to Wilcox(p. 202) with themessage, "The Yankees are coming up the river road."[33]

Sedgwick's attack.

	Union Positions.			Rebel Positions.
1.	Gibbon's Division.		A.	Hayes's Brigade.
2.	Newton's"		B.	Barksdale's Brigade.
3.	Howe's"		C.	Early's Division.
4.	Brooks's"			Gordon's, Hoke's, and Smith's Brigades.
			D.	Wilcox's Brigade.

Wilcox left fifty men to guard the ford, and went upon the run towardsthe town. It was an anxious moment to the Rebels. Barksdale and Hayesand Wilcox all met at Stanisberry's house, and consulted as to whatshould be done. Early their commander, was down on the Telegraph road,looking after matters in that direction.

"The Yankees are in full force below the town," said Barksdale.[34]That was the first information Wilcox had received of the startlingfact. They had been outgeneralled. They supposed that the movementbelow the town was a feint. They had seen Reynolds withdraw and marchup stream towards Chancellorsville, but had not seen Gibbon cross thestream. Yet he was there, moving to the attack.

"Put your batteries into position and play upon them," saidBarksdale.[35] Huger's battery galloped up, chose a fine position onthe hill near Dr. Taylor's house, and began to fire upon theMassachusetts Twentieth, which was in the road, compelling it to seekshelter under the hill. So effectual was the fire that Gibbon'sadvance was checked.

Brooks and Howe moved against the Rebels below the town, but foundthem strongly posted.

Twice Newton advanced upon Maryee's Hill, and was driven back. Theforenoon was waning. But though baffled, Sedgwick was not disposed togive up the attempt. He watched the contest closely, reconnoitring allthe positions of the Rebels, and determined to make an attack with hiswhole force at once.

But while Sedgwick was making preparations, Early endeavored to driveBrooks and Howe into the river. He advanced from the position occupiedby Pender and Hood in the first battle, emerged from the woods andcrossed the open field.

It is about ten o'clock. McCartney's battery, the First Massachusetts,is on a hillock, where it has full sweep of all the plain, right andleft, and in front. There are five batteries of the Rebel reserveartillery, under Pendleton, in front, which have(p. 203) tried invain to drive McCartney from the spot. A solid shot kills two horsesand a man; McCartney is struck by a fragment of shell; yet the batterymaintains its position north of the Bowling Green road, in Bernard'sfield. A regiment which never before has been under fire is lying infront of the battery, sheltered by the hedges along theroad,—soldiers that have enlisted for nine months. They are wantingin pluck, and as the Rebels advance, run straight up the hill towardsthe battery.

"Get out of the way, or I'll fire through you," shouts LieutenantGreen, who impatiently holds his artillerists in check till thefugitives are past him.

He cuts at them right and left with his sword, indignant at theircowardly conduct, anxious to have the coast clear, that he may pour atorrent of canister into the advancing foe, now close at hand.

The whole battery—six pieces—opens by a volley, sending streams ofcanister down the slope! But the Rebels are in earnest. Still theyadvance.

"Give them double-shotted canister," shouts Green to his gunners, andthey ram home the charges with a will. The guns leap from the groundwith the recoil!

Nearer,—across the road,—up the hill,—they come.

"Give it to them! Give it to them! Quick!" are the energetic shouts ofGreen, and the canister tears through the ranks. No troops can facesuch a destructive fire. The Rebels flee down the hill, across theroad, over the field, to the shelter of the woods.

"The repulse of the enemy on the extreme left was effected almostentirely by McCartney's battery," said General Brooks.[36]

General Sedgwick determined to carry Maryee's Hill at the point of thebayonet. Some of the officers thought it an impossibility. It had beentried three times in the first battle and twice during that morning,and all attempts had failed. But Sedgwick converged his forces uponone point. He formed his columns in three lines, with the intention ofmoving his whole force at once,—thus preventing Early from sendingany reinforcements from other parts of the lines.

(p. 204) The troops selected for the attack upon Maryee's Hill werethe Sixty-First Pennsylvania and Forty-Third New York in the frontline, north of the plank-road, and the First Long Island andEighty-Second Pennsylvania in the second line, under General Shaler.South of the plank-road were the Sixth Maine and Thirty-First New Yorkin the front line, with the Fifth Wisconsin acting as skirmishers.Next in line were the Seventh Massachusetts and Thirty-Sixth New York,Second New York and Twenty-Sixth New Jersey, of Neil's brigade. Stillfarther down, by Hazel Run, was the Vermont brigade.

Gibbon moved against Hayes and Wilcox, while Brooks still held theground, and made a demonstration against Early.

It is past eleven o'clock before all the dispositions are made.

"Go upon the double-quick. Don't fire a shot. Give them the bayonet.Carry the rifle-pits, charge up the hill, and capture the guns," arethe instructions.

The men throw aside everything which will hinder them, fix theirbayonets, and prepare for the work. Their blood is up. They know thatit is to be a desperate struggle. But it is not death that they arethinking of, but victory!

The Sixty-First Pennsylvania and Forty-Third New York move over thebridge across the canal. Their advance is the signal for all thelines. The men rise from the ground where they have been lyingsheltered from the Rebel shells. The Rebel batteries above them are ina blaze. The stone-wall at the base of the hill is aflame. Barksdalesees the threatening aspect. "I am hard pressed," is his message toWilcox. "Send me reinforcements." But Gibbon is moving on Wilcox, andthe latter cannot respond.

Cool and steady the advance. The hills rain canister. The sunken roadis a sheet of flame. But onward into the storm, with a cheer, heardabove the roar of battle upon the distant Falmouth hills, they leapinto the sunken road and capture the Rebels defending it. They climbthe hill. Steep the ascent. They feel the hot breath of the cannon intheir faces. Some roll to the bottom of the hill, the lamp of lifeextinguished forever; but their surviving comrades do not falter. Theyreach the crest, leap over the breastworks, and seize the guns! Maine,Massachusetts, Vermont, New York, and Wisconsin meet in theintrenchments and rend the air with victorious cheers!

Leading a charge.

(p. 205) Barksdale puts spurs to his horse and rides to the rear,leaving half of his brigade and eight guns in the hands of thevictors.

Barksdale says:—

"The distance from town to the points assailed was so short, the attack so suddenly made, and the difficulty of removing troops from one part of the line to another was so great, that it was utterly impossible for either General Wilcox or General Hayes to reach the scene of action in time to afford any assistance whatever."[37]

There was consternation in the Rebel lines. Early fled down theTelegraph road. Hayes also ran. Wilcox, who was not aware of thedisaster, remained in position on Taylor's Hill, wondering what hadhappened. Had Sedgwick known his position, the whole of Wilcox'sbrigade might have been captured; but it required time to reform thelines, and Wilcox made his escape.

Long and loud and joyous were the shouts of the victors. Thestronghold had been wrested from the Rebels at last.

It was Sunday noon. Hooker had just fallen back from Chancellorsville,and the Rebels were rejoicing over their success, when a messengerreached Lee with the tidings of disaster. Fredericksburg was lost,after all. It must be recovered, or the victory at Chancellorsvillewould be only a disastrous defeat.

Sedgwick telegraphed his success to Hooker.

"Move and attack Lee in rear," was Hooker's order.

Lee sent McLaws to hold Sedgwick in check. The time had come whenHooker should have assumed the offensive. The First Corps had arrived,but had taken no part in the battle. The Third Corps, Meade's, was ingood condition; so was the Second, Hancock's, although it had foughtduring the forenoon. Barlow's brigade of the Eleventh was fresh; theTwelfth had fought bravely, had lost heavily, but was not demoralized.The Third Corps had suffered most of all, yet it could be relied uponfor another contest. The withdrawal of McLaws left Lee's line thintowards Fredericksburg, the place to break through, and opencommunication with Sedgwick.(p. 206) The hour had come when he oughtnot to stand longer on the defensive, but gathering his forces in massoverwhelm Lee by a sudden and mighty onset. It was an auspiciousmoment,—a golden opportunity, such as does not often come to militarycommanders. But having formed his plan of fighting a defensive battle,he did not depart from it, and lost the victory which lay within hisgrasp.

Sedgwick having carried the heights of Fredericksburg, instead offollowing Early down the Telegraph road, made preparations to movetowards Chancellorsville, and join Hooker.

Wilcox, meanwhile, brought two of Huger's rifle-guns into positionnear Dr. Taylor's house, and opened fire. He also threw out hisskirmishers, made a display of his force, and looked round to see whatcould be done to escape from his perilous position. Sedgwick broughtup a battery, and moved forward his lines. Wilcox fled, and succeeded,by rapid marching under the shelter of a pine thicket, in gaining theplank-road, near Salem Church, where he was joined by General McLaws,and where also Barksdale rallied his troops.

The church is a brick building, without any steeple, standing on thesouth side of the road, about four miles out from Fredericksburg, andabout a mile and a half south of the Rappahannock at Banks's Ford.There was an oak grove near the church, and in front of it an openfield, but west of it there were thick woods, which effectuallyconcealed the Rebels. It was about five o'clock in the afternoon whenSedgwick advanced up the plank-road, with Brooks's division in theroad, Newton north of it, and Howe on the south side. Sedgwick'sskirmishers sent back word that the Rebels were in strong force in thewoods. At the same moment the Rebel batteries opened fire. One oftheir first shells killed a mounted orderly and his horse, and woundedCaptain Reed, of General Brooks's staff.

Sedgwick brought up his artillery and commenced a fire upon thechurch, and the woods beyond it. Wilcox had formed his line across theplank-road. His sharpshooters were in the church. He had four piecesof artillery in the road and on each side of it. He also threw acompany of sharpshooters into a school-house near the church.Kershaw's and(p. 207) Wofford's brigades were on the right of theroad; Semmes's and Mahone's on the other side. Sedgwick's batterieswere in position near the toll-gate, and so accurate and destructivewas the fire of his guns that the Rebel batteries by the church weredriven from their position. Russell's and Bartlett's brigades movedforward to rout the enemy from the woods, Sedgwick supposing there wasbut a small force to oppose him. The advance was over ground slightlyascending, through an open field, towards the woods, where the Rebelskirmishers were lying. It is a narrow belt of woods. Behind it werethe church and school-house, and beyond the church the woods where themain body of the Rebels were lying. They drove the skirmishers fromthe belt of woods, halted a moment to reform their lines, gave threecheers, charged through the grove, routing the Rebels there concealed.They surrounded the school-house, captured the entire company of theNinth Alabama stationed in it, put to flight a regiment lying behindthe house.[38] But the remainder of the Ninth Alabama, with otherregiments, came to the rescue, succeeded in recapturing a portion oftheir comrades, and forced Russell and Bartlett to retire.

It was now nearly six o'clock in the afternoon, and till night set inthere was heavy fighting along the whole line. Wilcox and Semmesseveral times advanced upon Sedgwick, but were repulsed. So far asnumbers were concerned the contest was about equal. But the Rebelswere on commanding ground, and protected by the woods, while Sedgwickwas in the open field. In this contest Wilcox lost four hundred andninety-five men. He had six officers killed and twenty-three wounded.Semmes lost six hundred and eighty-three killed and wounded, Waffordfive hundred and sixty-two. The whole loss of the Rebels in the fightat Salem Church was nearly two thousand. Sedgwick, instead ofadvancing again, waited for the Rebels to attack him, but they did notchoose to come out from their strong position in the woods, and try ita second time in the field. Thus the day closed.

Salem church.

	Union Positions.			Rebel Positions.
1.	Newton's Division.		A.	Semmes and Mahone.
2.	Brooks's"		B.	Wilcox.
3.	Howe's"		C.	Kershaw and Wofford.
			D.	Barksdale.
			E.	Reinforcements.
			F.	Dr. Taylor's.
			G.	Route of Wilcox's Retreat

Sedgwick's success endangered Lee, and, unless Fredericksburg wereregained, the battle was lost to the Rebels. Lee says:—

(p. 209) "The enemy had so strengthened his position near Chancellorsville that it was deemed inexpedient to assail it with less than our whole force, which could not be concentrated until we were relieved from the danger that menaced our rear. It was accordingly resolved still further to reinforce the troops in front of General Sedgwick, in order, if possible, to drive him across the Rappahannock. Accordingly, on the 4th, General Anderson was directed to proceed with his remaining brigades to join General McLaws, the three divisions of Jackson's corps holding our position at Chancellorsville. Anderson reached Salem Church about noon, and was directed to gain the left flank of the enemy and form a junction with Early."[39]

Half of the Rebel army was arrayed against Sedgwick, who held hisground through the 4th till night. Early, during the day, retraced hissteps up the Telegraph road, and, finding that Sedgwick had moved outto Salem Church, and that the fortifications were unoccupied, tookpossession, and thus cut Sedgwick's communications with Falmouth. WhenAnderson arrived he had no alternative but to retreat by Banks's Ford,where he crossed the river without loss during the night. Hooker alsorecrossed, took up his bridges, and the army returned again to itscamp.

In reviewing this battle, it is apparent that Hooker's movement toChancellorsville was a surprise to Lee. It was excellently planned andefficiently executed,—each corps reaching its assigned position atthe time appointed by the Commander-in-chief. It is plain thatHooker's departure from his original intention—to await an attackfrom Lee—was the cause of the disaster at the beginning of theengagement. Sickles's corps and Barlow's brigade being absent, thebalance of the Eleventh Corps had no supports; and yet by Bushbeck'sbrigade and Dilger's battery, with such assistance as was given by afew brave men of the other brigades, Jackson's right was not only heldin check, but thrown into confusion. Howard's statement of the casepresents the matter in its true light.

Thus reads his report:—

Had Sickles's corps and Barlow's brigade been in the line, there wouldhave been not only no disaster, but Jackson would have been defeatedat the outset; for, upon the return of those troops from Scott's Run,he was driven with great loss.

Jackson was driven by Sickles when the Third Corps returned to theline; and had Sickles and Barlow been in their proper positions whenthe attack was made, they could have repulsed him with greater ease.

Though Jackson's attack was successful, it is not thereforeconclusively evident that Lee's plan was wise. His army was dividedinto three parts,—Early at Fredericksburg, Lee east ofChancellorsville, and Jackson northwest of it. Being thoroughlyacquainted with the country, he was able to take his positionunobserved.

There were several opportunities during the battle when Hooker couldhave broken Lee's lines. The battle virtually was lost to Lee onSunday noon. Hooker had fallen back from Chancellorsville, butSedgwick had taken Fredericksburg. Had Hooker, when he orderedSedgwick to attack Lee in the rear, on Sunday afternoon, himselfadvanced, Lee would have been forced to abandon the contest; but,having resolved at the outset to stand on the defensive, the Unioncommander adhered to the idea, and thus Lee was able to retrieve thedisaster at Fredericksburg,—far more serious than that which hadhappened to the Eleventh Corps.

Could we but comprehend the ways of God, we might perhaps discoverthat the failure of the Union army at Chancellorsville(p. 211) wasnot owing to the prowess of the Rebels, the valor of StonewallJackson, nor the strategy of Lee, but to another cause. When the armycame into position at Chancellorsville, the commanding general isreported to have said that the Almighty could not prevent him fromwinning a victory. God is not mocked with impunity. There is oneanthem resounding through all the ages,—"Te Deum Laudamus!"

"Keep out of the draft."

(p. 212) CHAPTER XIV.
CAVALRY OPERATIONS.

"The Yankees can't ride horses; they were made to go on foot and digin the dirt; but the men of the South are true-born cavaliers,accustomed from their childhood to the sports of the field," said aRichmond newspaper at the beginning of the war; but Zagoni's charge atSpringfield, Pleasanton's at Barber's Cross-Roads, and Dahlgren's atFredericksburg showed that the men of the North could ride to somepurpose. Up to this time the cavalry of the Army of the Potomac hadtaken little part in the great battles which had been fought. It hadbeen divided by McClellan into squadrons, and attached to brigades ofinfantry; but Burnside, before his resignation, had begun areorganization of the cavalry. Hooker completed the work by forming acavalry corps, consisting of three divisions, commanded byMajor-General Stoneman. The division commanders were GeneralsPleasanton, Gregg, and Averill. In the month of March, Stoneman,wishing to ascertain the position of the Rebel cavalry, sent Averill'sdivision across the Rappahannock, at Kelley's Ford. The Rebelsguarding the crossing were nearly all captured. Averill pushed outtowards Culpepper, but met Stuart, and after a sharp engagementretired across the river.

March and April were muddy; but Stoneman's squadrons were busyforaging the country north of the Rappahannock, while his scouts werefinding their way through Stuart's lines, reaching James River,entering Richmond, ascertaining where supplies for the Rebel army wereaccumulated, and what troops guarded the bridges in rear of Lee'sarmy. They discovered that the main body of the Rebel cavalry was inthe vicinity of Culpepper and Orange Court-House, under Fitz-Hugh andCustis Lee.

One feature of General Hooker's plan, in the movement to(p. 213)Chancellorsville, was the destruction of Lee's supplies and hiscommunications with Richmond. This part was assigned to the cavalry.Averill was sent to Bealton, on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad, asif intending a movement upon Gordonsville. Stuart sent the two Lees upthe river to keep watch, which left a door open at Germanna Ford.

Stoneman sent all his unserviceable horses and men to Falmouth. Menwho could not endure hardship and exposure were detailed to remain andguard the camp. The cavalrymen only knew that there was to be amovement somewhere, so well kept were Hooker's intentions.

Pleasanton was ordered to accompany Hooker to Chancellorsville,Averill was directed to cross the river at Rappahannock Station, andmove towards Gordonsville, while Gregg's division was selected tostrike the blow which would cripple Lee.

On the 29th of April, when the Eleventh and Twelfth Corps reachedKelley's Ford, on the Rappahannock, Gregg, who was lying there,crossed in advance, and moved west towards Culpepper. Averill at thesame time forded the river at Rappahannock Station, four miles above,and moved also towards Culpepper. There was a small force of Rebelcavalry in that town, but Averill charged through the streets. TheRebels made a hasty retreat towards Gordonsville, crossing the Rapidanat the railroad and burning the bridge behind them. Averill followed,and the Lees thought that Gordonsville was the point aimed at. Gregg,instead of going to Culpepper, turned south through Stevensburg; and,while the Eleventh and Twelfth Corps were crossing the Rapidan atGermanna Ford, his troops were fording the same stream eight mileshigher up.

When Gregg arrived at Raccoon Ford, he found it guarded by a strongforce on the opposite side, intrenched around the house of ColonelPorter, which overlooks the ford. Gregg halted his column in the fieldand woods, near the house of Mr. Stringfellow, on the northern bank,and made demonstrations as if to cross. He opened with his artillery,which was replied to by the Rebels. While the enemy was thus diverted,a small force was sent to Morton's Ford, two miles below, whichcrossed without opposition, dashed up the road, and came upon theRebels in rear of Colonel Porter's house. They fled towards(p. 214)Orange Court-House. Lieutenant Gaskell, with a portion of the FifthUnited States Cavalry, followed them five miles, capturing an officerand several men. The division crossed, and bivouacked on the hillsaround Colonel Porter's house for the night. This movement of Gregg'scompelled the Lees, who intended to fight Averill at Rapidan Station,to make a hasty retreat towards Gordonsville, for Gregg was on theirflank. Averill crossed the stream, driving back the Rebels, and by hismovement deceiving the enemy. He followed them nearly to Gordonsville,remained till Gregg's division was well on its way, then recrossed thestream, and rejoined Hooker.

The night of the 30th of April was cold and the ground damp, but nofires were allowed. At two o'clock in the morning the men were rousedfrom sleep, not by the bugle-call, but by low-spoken words. They weresoon ready to move, but were obliged to wait till daylight for aguide. Four hours of valuable time were lost by this delay.

The column moved along the road which runs south from Raccoon Ford toLouisa Court-House, at Greenwood. It crossed Mountain Run soon afterdaylight, reached the Fredericksburg plank-road, and moved on thenorth fork of the North Anna. A small body dashed into Orange Springearly in the morning, and captured a lieutenant of Jackson's staff,and a wagon loaded with intrenching tools. Squadrons were sent out inall directions,—on the side-roads and by-paths, through the fieldsand forests,—telling the people everywhere that Hooker's whole armywas on the march, creating the impression among the people that Hookerwas making a swift descent upon Richmond. The soldiers helpedthemselves to chickens, turkeys, lambs, and obtained breakfasts in thehouses of the farmers, who were astonished at their sudden appearance,and their unceremonious way of sitting down to breakfast without beingasked. They visited stables, seized or exchanged horses without payingany boot. Great was the excitement among the negroes, who poured outfrom the cabins with wild expressions of joy. Hundreds of them joinedthe column, without saying good by to their masters. The citizens weresullen, but the women gave free utterance to their feelings.

A night march of cavalry.

Gregg reached Louisa Court-House, twenty miles from Raccoon(p. 215) Ford, at two o'clock in the afternoon. The Virginia CentralRailroad, from Richmond to Gordonsville, passes through the town. Alarge quantity of supplies was in store there, guarded by severalhundred Rebel cavalry, who, when they heard that the "Yankees" werecoming, sent off what they could on a train of cars, and then fled toGordonsville. Gregg sent out a regiment in pursuit, while the mainbody of his command bivouacked in the field west of the Court-House.Small bodies were detailed east and west along the railroad, tearingup the track, burning the ties, and destroying all the culverts andbridges in the vicinity.

It was the first time that the people of Louisa Court-House had beenvisited by the Yankees. They had lived in security, never entertainingthe thought that the "Yankees" could penetrate so far into theinterior. They wanted high pay for all they had to sell, but wereready to make a great discount between Confederate currency andgreenbacks. Gregg was now east of Gordonsville and Averill north ofit. Gregg sent a portion of the First Maine Cavalry towards the place,as if intending to proceed in that direction. Three or four miles westof the Court-House the Maine men encountered a large force, which hadbeen sent by Fitz-Hugh Lee. The officer commanding the party sent wordto Gregg, and fell back slowly; but the Rebels charged upon him,killed two, and captured twenty-eight. Gregg formed his division forbattle, and the Rebels retreated towards Gordonsville.

At five o'clock in the afternoon, the railroad and depot buildingshaving been destroyed, the column turned southeast, crossed the SouthAnna, passing through Yancyville, a little village on that stream,moved down the river, and reached Thompson's Cross-Roads at eleveno'clock.

Up to this time General Stoneman had not informed his officers of hisintentions. He called them together at midnight and gave them theirinstructions.

"You are to destroy the bridges over the North Anna, and break upLee's communications in that direction," were his instructions toGregg.

"Colonel Davis will destroy the bridges over the South Anna, south ofthe Fredericksburg Railroad."

(p. 216) "Colonel Wyndham, with details of regiments from his brigade,will reach the James River at Columbia, and destroy the bridge thereand break up the canal."

"Colonel Kilpatrick, with the Harris Light Cavalry, will move to theChickahominy, and burn the bridges across that stream."

Stoneman himself, with the main force, was to remain there, and coverthe movement. When the object each commander had in view wasaccomplished, they were allowed the widest latitude for otheroperations.

At half past two o'clock Sunday morning, May 3d, the various columnsare in motion. It is a bright moonlight night. Gregg moves northeast,Davis east, Kilpatrick southeast, and Wyndham south.

At this moment, Lee at Chancellorsville is arranging for his secondattack on Hooker; Sedgwick preparing to storm the heights ofFredericksburg; Stonewall Jackson is mortally wounded, and lying in ahouse at Guinea's Station. Averill is hastening to withdraw from thevicinity of Orange Court-House, when he should be moving on towardsGordonsville. Couriers are flying through the country, along the roadsleading to Richmond, with the astounding intelligence that "theYankees are coming!"

General Gregg has the First Maine and Tenth New York, with two piecesof artillery. He moves rapidly up the Central Railroad. There are notroops to oppose him. He burns the station at Beaver Dam, andAnderson's bridge across the North Anna, about three miles north ofthe station. He sends out detachments along the railroad, burning allthe bridges in the vicinity. Another detachment moves to the SouthAnna, along the Richmond and Gordonsville turnpike, and destroys thebridge called the Ground-Squirrel bridge, over that stream. Havingaccomplished the object of the expedition, without any loss, Greggreturns and rejoins Stoneman at Thompson's Cross-Roads the 5th of Mayhaving made a forced march of seventy miles, and doing great damage.

Kilpatrick and Davis are near together in their movements, going eastand southeast. Kilpatrick makes his first halt thirteen miles fromRichmond. There are bodies of Rebel troops(p. 217) around him,—alarge force at Hanover Junction, other troops in the vicinity ofAshland, and others moving out from the city to intercept him. Hisonly safety is in a rapid, audacious movement. At daylight on Mondaymorning, May 4th, after a short rest for his men and horses, he isagain in motion, directly toward Richmond. He strikes theFredericksburg railroad at Hungary Station, five miles from the city,burns the depot, tears up the track, pushes directly down the Brookepike, till he can see the spires of the city, only two miles distant.

There is great excitement in the city,—riding to and fro of officersand couriers, mustering of militia, turning out of clerks from thedepartments, shouldering of muskets and hasty buckling on ofcartridge-boxes, forming lines and hastening out to the intrenchments.Frightened farmers ride in from all directions with the intelligencethat the country is swarming with Yankees. A company of artillery anda considerable force of infantry, with cavalry pickets and scouts,which are moving out on the Brooke pike, are seized with a panic andrush back to the city. The bells are rung. The confusion andconsternation increase. Men hide their valuables. Women and childrencross the river to Manchester. The Union prisoners, who have beensuffering the horrors of Libby Prison for many months, looking throughtheir iron-grated windows, behold the commotion. They can hear thebooming of Kilpatrick's guns. Their hearts bound with indescribablejoy. They are thrilled with the thought that deliverance is at hand.

Kilpatrick captures Lieutenant Brown, an aide-de-camp of GeneralWinder, and an escort accompanying him, within the fortifications. Heparoles him, dating the parole at the city of Richmond.

"You are a mighty daring sort of fellows, but you'll certainly becaptured before sundown," said the aide.

"That may all be, but we intend to do a mighty deal of mischieffirst," replied Kilpatrick.[41]

He leaves a portion of the troops with his artillery, which engagesthe Rebel batteries, while, guided by a negro, with a smalldetachment he moves through the fields to the railroad,(p. 218) burnsMeadow bridge, running a train of cars into the stream. With oneregiment of cavalry he reaches the Rebel fortifications, capturesRebels inside them, plants his batteries, and throws shells almostinto the city of Richmond, in face of their own batteries, destroyscommunication with Lee, burning bridges, tearing up railroad tracks,pulling down telegraph wire, running a train of cars into the river,with rebel troops all around him.

Having accomplished this he moves northeast, for he can see Rebelcolumns moving up the Brooke pike and Mechanicsville road, to cut offhis retreat. He dismisses all hope of returning to Stoneman. It is acritical moment. He must move in some direction at once. He consultshis map.

"To horse, men! We are all right! We are safe yet."[42]

With a faithful negro to guide him, he moves through woods and fields,along by-paths and cross roads, going east and northeast, to HanoverTown, on the Pamunkey. His horses are jaded, but he makes a hard ride,reaches the place in safety, crosses the stream, sets fire to thebridge, halts his men upon the northern bank. The Rebels, in hotpursuit, come down to the other bank, mortified and chagrined andenraged at his escape. The Yankees throw up their caps, and greet themwith a hearty cheer. Scouts come in and report a train of thirtywagons loaded with corn for the Rebel army near by. Kilpatrickcaptures them, feeds his horses with what corn he needs, destroys therest, moves five miles up the river, bivouacks for the night, remainstill one o'clock in the morning of the 5th, then moving rapidly northto Aylett's, near Mattapony River, surprises three hundred Rebelcavalry, capturing two officers, thirty-three men, burning fifty-sixwagons and a building containing twenty thousand barrels of corn andwheat, quantities of clothing and commissary stores, safely crossingthe Mattapony in season to escape the advance of the Rebel cavalry inpursuit. Pushing on, later in the evening, he destroys a third wagontrain, burns buildings containing a large amount of corn, nearTappahannock, then turning southeast, making a forced march of twentymiles, reaches King and(p. 219) Queen Court-House, where he finds abody of cavalry drawn up to dispute his passage. He prepares tocharge, but suddenly discovers that it is a portion of the TwelfthIllinois of Colonel Davis's command. The meeting is a joyful one. Thetwo commands move on together, marching southeast, reaching GloucesterPoint at ten o'clock on the morning of the 7th, where they find restand safety under the guns of the Union fortifications, making a marchof nearly two hundred miles in less than five days, with a loss ofonly one officer and thirty-seven men, having captured and paroledupward of three hundred of the enemy.[43]

"Who will convey news to Hooker of our success?" was the question putby Kilpatrick when at Aylett's, after routing the Rebels there.

"I am ready to go," was the quick response of Lieutenant Estes of theFirst Maine, who was acting as aide to Kilpatrick. Ten men weredetailed to accompany him. They struck across the country north, andreached the Rappahannock at Tappahannock Court-House, dashing intothat place, and capturing a lieutenant and fifteen men! whom theyparoled. The river was swollen, and they could not cross. The wholecountry was alarmed. The militia were assembling. There were threehundred on the north side of the river. The officer in command sentover a flag of truce demanding the Lieutenant to surrender; butLieutenant Estes had no intention of giving up just then. Finding thathe could not go north, he turned south. In his flight he came upon aRebel major, two captains, and three privates, who were captured andparoled. But the militia were close upon the brave Lieutenant, whofound himself and party caught in a trap between the river and theGreat Dragon Swamp. Seeing that they could not escape on horseback,they abandoned their horses and took to the swamp. The militiasurrounded it, and set bloodhounds on the track of the fugitives, whowere finally captured, and sent off towards Richmond, under a strongguard; but before they reached the Mattapony, Kilpatrick set them atliberty and took the Rebel guard along with him to Gloucester,accompanied(p. 220) by thousands of negroes, on foot, in carts,wagons, and old family carriages, drawn by mules, oxen, and sometimesby cows,—packed full, and loaded down on top, by the dark-hued butlight-hearted creatures, who had heard of the proclamation ofPresident Lincoln, and were ready to accept freedom at the hands ofthe Yankees. After resting a few days, Kilpatrick crossed the river ontransports, marched up the tongue of land between the Rappahannock andPotomac, and joined Hooker at Falmouth, having made a complete circuitof the Rebel army.

When Colonel Wyndham left Thompson's Cross-Roads on the morning of the3d, he moved rapidly southwest towards the James, striking it atColumbia. The distance was about twenty miles. There were many smallcreeks to cross, but Wyndham reached Columbia at eight o'clock. Thepeople had just finished breakfast when a man, riding furiously, hishair wet with foam, came dashing down the street, shouting "TheYankees are coming! the Yankees are coming!"

The people laughed; some thought him crazy. The Yankees coming?Impossible! But a column of men in blue, with gleaming sabres, dasheddown the road into the village. There were no Rebel soldiers in thevicinity to oppose Wyndham. Some of the citizens fled in consternationacross the James, giving the alarm. But the people over the riverwould not believe their stories.

"I'll go and see for myself," said an old farmer, who mounted hishorse and took one of his best servants with him. He went on till hewas in sight of the Yankees, then stopped and looked at them inamazement. Suddenly his servant dashed away straight towards theYankees.

"Stop! come back!" he shouted, but the negro galloped boldly intoWyndham's lines, bringing an excellent horse, while his late masterturned the other way, more amazed than ever.

Some of the soldiers told the inhabitants that they belonged toStuart's command; and the word spread that they were not Yankees afterall. A young fellow, the son of a rich farmer, rode boldly into thelines to see Stuart's cavalry.

"Has Lee licked the Yankees?" he asked.

"I reckon," said a cavalryman.

"Good!" said the boy.

(p. 221) "See here, my friend, my horse has gi'n out. I am onimportant business; I should like to exchange horses with you. GeneralStuart will make it all right with you when he comes this way," saidthe soldier, who, without further ceremony, put his saddle upon thenoble-blooded animal, while the young man looked on in amazement.

Many of the Rebel cavalrymen were dressed in blue clothing, which hadbeen stripped from prisoners, and that was the reason why theinhabitants were at a loss to know whether they were Yankees orRebels.

Colonel Wyndham burned the bridge across the James, destroyed severalcanal-boats loaded with supplies, burned a warehouse filled with cornand medical stores, dug sluices in the banks of the canal, andattempted to destroy the locks, but did not succeed. He remained tillfour o'clock in the afternoon, then pushed down the river five miles,moved north, then northwest, and reached Stoneman at ten o'clock inthe evening, accompanied by hundreds of negroes. When the alarm wasgiven on a plantation that the Yankees were coming, the farmers madeall haste to secrete their horses.

"Here! Jim, Sam, Cuffee, take the horses into the woods. Quick!" Therewas a grand commotion in all the stables, the negroes mounting thehorses and riding into the thick bushes; but as soon as they were outof their masters' sight, they made for the Yankees by the shortestroute! They were ready to do anything for their deliverers. They keptclose watch while the soldiers rested; visited plantations, bringingin chickens, turkeys, calves, and lambs, and cooked delicious suppersfor the whole command. They kept Stoneman informed of what was goingon. He learned that in two hours after Wyndham left Columbia, a largebody of cavalry entered the place in pursuit, but Wyndham moved sorapidly they could not overtake him.

A portion of Buford's brigade, the First Regulars, dashed along theVirginia Central Railroad, and tore up the track. A company went tothe North Anna, drove off a guard of infantry from a bridge, capturedfive prisoners, burned the bridge, and returned to Stoneman withoutlosing a man.

The Fifth Regulars went down the James to Cartersville(p. 222)twelve miles below Columbia, to destroy a bridge. They met a portionof Lee's brigade. There was skirmishing; but while one portion of theRegulars was holding the Rebels in check, another party reached thebridge, set it on fire, and then the whole force returned to Stoneman.

The Rebels all the while were hovering round Stoneman on thesouthwest, but did not dare to attack him. They did not know what tomake of the conflicting stories. "The Yankees are at Frederickshall,at Ashland, at Columbia, at Thompson's Cross-Roads, at Louisa, atRichmond," were the reports. The country swarmed with Yankees; everyfarmer had his story of woe, of stolen horses and runaway negroes; thefarmers' wives and daughters mourned over lost chickens, ofmeat-houses broken open, jars of jelly and preserves carried away. Fewof the Virginia farmers had ever seen a regiment of cavalry, and whenthe lines filed down the narrow roads, a squadron was magnified to aregiment, and a hundred men became a thousand.

On Tuesday afternoon, all of the detachments except Kilpatrick's and aportion of Davis's having returned, Stoneman commenced his homewardmarch, and recrossed the Rapidan at Raccoon Ford, in safety, though hewas obliged to swim his horses through the swollen stream. There wasno enemy to molest him, none to hang upon his rear. He recrossed theRappahannock at Kelley's Ford, and rejoined Hooker at Falmouth, havingsuccessfully accomplished what he had undertaken.

The Rebels were mortified, chagrined, and exasperated. The successwhich they had achieved in compelling Hooker to retire fromChancellorsville was in a measure counterbalanced by Stoneman'soperations, especially by Kilpatrick's audacious exploits.

This cavalry movement was the first great raid of the war. It was notonly a success, but it toughened the soldiers and prepared them forthe hardships and battles which followed on the Upper Rappahannock, atAldie, Middleburg, and Gettysburg. It gave confidence. The men feltthat they were no longer the laughing-stock of the army. They hadother employment now than guarding teams or keeping watch on thepicket line. There was pleasurable excitement in riding(p. 223)through the enemy's country, making dashes into villages, chargingupon the enemy, riding through the dense forests, and finding goodliving at every farm-house. There were plenty of volunteers for anyenterprise.

A few days later Stuart attempted a counter raid in rear of the army,but was driven across the Rappahannock with ease. Then came the severestruggle at Brandy Station. Lee had started on his Gettysburgcampaign, and Stuart was kept on the flank to conceal the movement,but Kilpatrick and Gregg unmasked it. Then as Stuart swung along thebase of the Blue Ridge, while Lee went down the Shenandoah with theinfantry, the contest was renewed in a running fight from Aldie toSnicker's Gap. In all of these engagements the superiority of theUnion cavalry was fully established. The Union soldiers had learned toride horses; and from Stoneman's raid to the capture of Jeff Davisthey rode to some purpose.

Kearny Cross.

(p. 224) CHAPTER XV.
THE ATLANTIC COAST

The encounter between the Merrimack and the Monitor had set the worldagog on the matter of armored vessels. A fleet of ironclads had beenprepared, with the special object in view of recapturing Fort Sumter.It was an event looked forward to with intense interest, not only inthe North, but throughout the civilized world. Having a desire towitness that attack, I proceeded South, leaving New York on the 7th ofFebruary, 1863, on board the steamer Augusta Dinsmore, belonging toAdams's Express. Captain Crowell, her commander, was a sharp-eyedConnecticut Yankee, who kept the lead constantly going as we ran downthe coast, and who was as well acquainted with all the soundings asthe skipper of Nantucket immortalized by Mr. Fields, who detected thesoil of Marm Hackett's garden by smell and taste, although Nantuckethad sunk.

The harbor of Port Royal was crowded with shipping. General Foster'sforce from North Carolina had just arrived, to participate in a landmovement. General Hunter was in command of the department, and therearose at once a question of jurisdiction, which paralyzed theoperations of the army. The officers and soldiers at Port Royal, wearywith doing nothing, had fitted up a theatre. The building was used forchurch services on Sunday. Attending the morning service the day afterour arrival, I found an audience of about one hundred persons, amongthem General Hunter and staff. The clergyman, an Episcopalian, in arusty black gown, stood upon the stage. A soldier played a melodeonand conducted the singing. In the afternoon there was a businessmeeting in the African Baptist church, which I also attended. Rev.Abraham Murchison, a tall copper-hued negro, was pastor, and presidedover the deliberations. He had been a slave in Savannah, but made hisway to our lines, was a storekeeper or huckster on(p. 225) week-days,and preached on Sunday. The church was a plain wooden building,erected by order of General Mitchell for an African church. There weretwo rows of benches, a plain pine pulpit, a ventilated ceiling, fromwhich three or four glass lamps were suspended,—all being very muchlike the rude churches to be found in the thinly-settled prairies ofIllinois. The congregation were singing when we entered,—

"Sweet fields beyond the swelling flood
Stand dressed in living green,
So to the Jews fair Canaan stood,
While Jordan rolled between."

The leader was a round-headed, compact, energetic negro, twenty-fiveyears of age, whose zeal was bounded only by the capacity of hislungs. It was the well-known tune "Jordan," sung by millions in timespast and present. The women occupied one side of the house, the mensitting opposite. It was a dusky view, looking down the aisle from myseat at the right of the pulpit. They were countenances not types ofbeauty, not attractive intellectually. But there was perfect decorumand solemnity. All heads were bowed when the preacher addressed theThrone of Grace. It was a prayer full of supplications andthanksgiving, expressed in fitting words.

The church had a case of discipline. Their sexton had been remiss inlighting the lamps, and was arraigned for trial. The pastor called thesexton to the front, and thus indicted him:—

"John, my son, you are arraigned for not doing as you have agreed, andcovenanted to do. We pay you one hundred and twenty dollars a year forlighting these yere beautiful lamps which the church have sogenerously provided, and, sir, you have been remiss in your duty. OnThursday night, when we were assembled for holy prayer, we were indarkness. You did wrong. You broke your obligations. You must bepunished. What say you? Brethren, we will hear what he has to say."

"I lighted the lamps, sah, but they went out; de oil was bad, Ireckon," said the sexton.

The pastor called upon one of the deacons to take the chair. He wasof middle age, black as anthracite coal, bald-headed,(p. 226) and wasdressed in pants and coat made of old sailcloth. By his side sat hiscolleague, wearing a United States soldiers' blue overcoat. Thepreacher, taking his stand in the aisle, laid aside his clericalauthority, and became one of the brethren. "Brother cheerman, ourbrother am presumptus. He say he light de lamps and dey go out. Howdoes he know dey go out? He ought to stay and see dey don't go out. Heam presumptus and should be punished. I move, sir, dat our brother beset aside from commin to de Lord's table till he make satisfaction."

A brother seconded the motion, and the question was put by the deacon.Two or three voted affirmatively, but nearly all negatively. Thequestion was not understood. The preacher explained: "You isdiscomposed in your minds. You do not understand de question. Can anyof you tell me how you voted?"

The question was put a second time, and the offending member wasunanimously debarred the privileges of the church.

After the discipline a candidate for admission was presented, a stoutyoung man, named Jonas.

"Well, my son, where are you from?" said the pastor.

"From Charleston, sir."

"Was you a member of the church there, my son?"

"Yes, sir, I was a member of the church."

"Does any one here know anything about Jonas?"

A half-dozen responded "Yes," all agreeing that his deportment wascorrect.

"Did you bring your 'stificate with you?"

"No, sir; I came away in a hurry, and hadn't any time to get one."

"Yes, my son; we understand that you were obliged to leave in a hurryor not at all. But what made you become a Christian?"

"Because I felt I was a sinner."

"Did you pray, my son?"

"Yes, sir; and I feel that through the mercy of Jesus Christ my sinsare pardoned."

It was a simple narrative, and expressed with evident consciousnessof the solemnity of the declaration. It was plain(p. 227) that inspiritual things these people were further advanced than in businessmatters. The evidence was satisfactory, and the member received by anextension of right hand of fellowship on the part of the pastor. Inthe evening Rev. Mr. Murchison preached from the text, "And they shallcall upon the rocks and mountains to fall upon them," &c.

It was a crude, disjointed discourse, having very little logic, agreat many large words, some of them ludicrously misapplied, yetcontained striking thoughts, and appropriate similes. This was acongregation standing on the lowest step of civilization. Minister andpeople were but a twelvemonth out of bondage. All behind them wasbarbarism. Before them was a future, unrevealed, but infinitely betterthan what their past had been. Their meeting was orderly, and I haveseen grave legislative bodies in quite as much of a muddle over asimple question as that congregation of black men emerging from theirlong night of darkness.

On the following Sunday I was present at a service on Ladies' Island.The owner of the plantation where the meeting was held erected hishouse in full view of Beaufort, and near the bank of the stream wherethe tide ebbs and flows upon the sandy beach. It was a mean mansion,standing on posts, to give free circulation to the air underneath. Inhot summer days the shade beneath the house was the resort of all thepoultry of the premises. Thousands of hard-working New Englandmechanics live in better houses, yet from Beaufort the place made animposing show, surrounded by orange and magnolia trees. The sandyacres of the plantation stretched towards St. Helena. A short distancefrom the planter's house were the weather-beaten cabins of thenegroes, mere hovels, without window-panes, with mud chimneys,—thehomes of generations who had gone from the darkness and hopelessnessof a wearying life to the rest and quiet of the grave.

On that morning when Admiral Dupont shelled the Rebels out of theforts at Hilton Head and Bay Point, the owner of these acres made ahasty exit from his house. He sent his overseer to the cabins to hurryup the negroes, but to his surprise not a negro was to be found. Thecolored people had heard the thundering down the bay. They knew itsmeaning.(p. 228) It set their hearts beating as they never hadthrobbed before. It was the sweetest music they ever had heard. Ahorseman came riding furiously up to the house, with terror in hiscountenance. The master hastened out to know how the battle was going.

"The Yankees have taken the forts!" said the messenger. The masterbecame pale.

"You had better get your negroes together, and be ready for a move,"said the messenger.

Sharp ears had heard all this,—the ears of Sam, a colored man, who,seeing the herald arrive in hot haste, had the curiosity to hear whathe had to say, then bounded like a deer to the cabins, running fromdoor to door, whispering to the inmates, "To the woods! to the woods!De Yankees hab taken de forts,—massa is going to de mainland, and isgoing to take us wid him."

The cabins were deserted in an instant; and five minutes later, whenthe overseer came round to gather his drove of human cattle, he foundempty hovels. The planter and his overseer were obliged to do theirown hasty packing up.

The plantation was in the hands of a warm-hearted Christian gentlemanfrom Massachusetts, Mr. Norton. The people of the estate gathered forworship in the large parlor of the house.

The room was eighteen or twenty feet square, and had a wide-mouthedfireplace, in which a cheerful fire of pitch knots was blazing. Therewas a settee, a mahogany sideboard, where the former owner wasaccustomed to quaff his wines and liquors. Seats and chairs werebrought in. The big dinner-bell was rung, and the people, thirty orforty in number, came in, men, women, and children. Some of the womenbrought their infants. Uncle Jim, the patriarch of the plantation, wastoo feeble to attend. The superintendent, Mr. Norton, comforted hisheart by reading to him a chapter in the Bible and offering prayers inthe miserable cabin, where the old man was lying on a pile of rags.Uncle Jim was a sincere Christian. The word of God was sweet to him.His heart overflowed with thanks and praise, for the display of God'sgreat goodness to him and his people.

(p. 229) A hymn was lined off by Mr. Norton, after the fashion of ourfathers. William, a stout, middle-aged man, struck into St. Martin's,and the congregation joined, not reading the music exactly as good oldTansur composed it, for there were crooks, turns, slurs, andappoggiaturas, not to be found in any printed copy. It was sungharshly, nasally, and dragged out in long, slow notes.

A pure-blooded negro, Sancho, offered prayer. He had seen greathardship in life and had suffered more than his namesake, the squire,who was once unceremoniously tossed in a blanket. His prayer was thefree utterance of a warm heart. It was a familiar talk with Jesus, hisbest friend. He improved the opportunity to mingle an exhortation withhis supplication. He thus addressed the unconverted:—

"O, my poor, impenitent fellow-sinner, what you think you are doing?Where you think you are going? Death will ride up soon in a big blackcarriage and take you wid him down to de regions of deep darkness. Whydon't you repent now, and den he will carry you up into de light ofparadise!"

Looking forward to the hour of the Christian's release from thebondage of this life, he said, in conclusion, "And now, good Lord,when we have done chaw all de hard bones and swallowed all de bitterpills, we trust de good Lord will take us to himself."

After an address from the superintendent, Sancho rose.

"My belobed friends," said he, "I neber 'spected to see such a day asdis yere. For twenty years, I hired my time of old massa, I was'bleeged to pay him twelve dollars a month in advance, and if I didn'thab de money ready, he wollopped me. But I's a free man now. De goodLord hab done it all. I can't read. It is de great desire ob my heartto learn to read, so dat I can read de Bible all my own self; but I'stoo old to learn. But I rejoice dat my chillen can hab de opportunityto study de precious word. De Lord is doin great tings for us in deseyere days. Ole massa, was a purty good massa, and I prays de Lord tomake him lay down his weapons ob rebellion and become a good Union manand a disciple ob de Lord Jesus, for Jesus tells us dat we must lubour enemies."

After the exercises of the religious meeting were concluded,(p. 230)the chairs were set aside, and they began a "praise meeting," orsinging meeting. Most of their music is plaintive. The piecefrequently commences with a recitative by one voice, and at the end ofthe first line the chorus joins. The words are often improvised tosuit the occasion.

A favorite song is "Roll, Jordan, roll," in which the progression ofthe melody is very descriptive of the rolling of waves upon the beach.There are many variations of the melody, but that here given is as Iheard it sung by the negroes of Bythewood.

Listen|See musical notation

ROLL JORDAN.

Little children sitting on the tree of life. To hear the Jordan roll; O
roll, Jordan roll, Jordan roll, Jordan roll. We march the angel march, O
march the angel march, O my soul is rising heavenward To hear the Jordan roll.

The verses vary only in recitation. If Mr. Jones is present he willhear, "Mr. Jones is sitting on the tree of life." There is no pause,and before the last roll is ended the one giving the recitative placesanother personage on the tree, and thus Jordan rolls along.

As the song goes on the enthusiasm rises. They sing louder(p. 231)and stronger. The recitative is given with increased vigor, and thechorus swells with increasing volume. They beat time, at first, withtheir hands, then their feet. They rise from their seats. Williambegins to shuffle his feet. Anna, a short, thick-set woman, wearing acheckered dress, and an apron, which once was a window-curtain, clapsher hands, makes a short, quick jerk of her body, stamps her feet onthe unaccented part of the measure, keeping exact syncopation.Catherine and Sancho catch the inspiration. They go round in a circle,shuffling, jerking, shouting louder and louder, while those outside ofthe circle respond with increasing vigor, all stamping, clapping theirhands, and rolling out the chorus. William seems to be in a trance,his eyes are fixed, yet he goes on with a double-shuffle, till theperspiration stands in beads upon his face. Every joint seems hung onwires. Feet, legs, arms, head, body, and hands swing and jump like achild's dancing Dandy Jim. Sancho enters into it with all his heart,soul, mind, and might, clapping his hands, rolling his eyes, lookingupward in ecstasy and outward upon the crowd, as if he were theirspiritual father and guardian.

Thus it went on till nature was exhausted. When the meeting broke up,they all came round in procession, shaking hands with thesuperintendent and the strangers present, and singing a parting song,

"There's a meeting here to-night!"

The superintendent informed me that the children who attended schoolcould not be coaxed to take part in those praise meetings. They hadlearned to sing Sunday-school songs, and evidently looked upon theplantation songs of their fathers and mothers as belonging to theirbondage and not worthy to be sung now that they were free.

A short distance from Hilton Head is the town of Mitchelville, laidout by the lamented astronomer, General Mitchell, who fell a victim tothe yellow-fever in the summer of 1862. The town is on a broad sandyplain, bordered by groves and thickets of live-oak, palmetto, and thecoast pine.

At that time there were about seventy houses,—or cabins rather,—ofthe rudest description, built of logs, chinked with clay brought upfrom the beach, roofs of long split shingles,(p. 232) board floors,windows with shutters,—plain board blinds, without sash or glass.Each house had a quarter of an acre of land attached. There was nopaint or lime, not even whitewash, about them. It was just such aplace as might be expected in a new country, where there were nosaw-mills or brick-kilns,—a step in advance of a hole in the groundor a bark wigwam. It was the beginning of the experiment ofcivilization on the part of a semi-barbarous people just released fromabject bondage, and far from being free men.

I looked into the first cabin, and seeing an old man sitting beforethe fire, greeted him with "How do you do, Uncle?" the sobriquet ofall middle-aged negro men.

"'Pears how I'm rather poorly,—I's got de chills, boss."

He was a slave in Florida, made his escape from his master'splantation fifty miles inland, reached Fernandina, and entered thelines of the Union army. He was dressed in pants made of oldsailcloth, and the tattered cast-off blouse of a Union soldier. Theroom was twelve feet square. I could see through the chinking in ahundred places. At the coping of the roof, where it should have joinedthe wall, there was a wide opening all around, which allowed all thewarmth to escape. The furniture consisted of three tables, fourchairs, a mahogany wash-stand, all of which once stood in the mansionof some island planter. There was a Dutch-oven on the hearth, thesight of which made my mouth water for the delicious tea-cakes ofchildhood. There were pots, kettles, baskets, and bags, and a pile ofrags, old blankets which the soldiers had thrown aside. It requiredbut a few words to thaw out Uncle Jacob, who at once commencedfumbling in his pockets, producing, after a studious search, a brownpaper, carefully folded, enclosing the name of a gentleman in New Yorkwho had taken home Uncle Jacob's nephew. He wanted me to read it tohim,—the name, the street, the number,—that he might learn it byheart.

"He is learning to write, boss, and I shall have a letter from him byand by," said the old man, in glee. He handed me three letters, allfrom men who once were slaves, not written by them individually, butby amanuenses. One was a sailor on the gunboat Ottawa, off Charleston;one was in New York city, and the third in Ohio.

(p. 233) "Please, boss, I should like to hab you read 'em," he said.

It was a pleasure to gratify the kind-hearted man, who listened withsatisfaction beaming from every line of his countenance.

Uncle Jacob had been five months in the employ of the United States,unloading vessels at Hilton Head, and had received only his rationsand a little clothing.

"Well, Uncle Jacob, which would you rather be, a freeman or a slave?"I asked.

"O, Lor' bless you, boss, I wouldn't like to be a slave again."

"Do you think you can take care of yourself?"

"Jes let gubberment pay me, boss, and see if I can't."

It was spoken with great earnestness.

In the next cabin I found Peter, who had taken the name of Brown, thatof his former master. Slavery gave its victims but one name. GeneralMitchell said that they were entitled to another name, and he orderedthat they should take that of their former masters; hence there arePeter Beauregards, James Trenholms, Susan Rhetts, Julia Barnwells, onthe plantations of the Sea Islands.

"Mr. Brown, did you ever hear about the Abolitionists?" I asked.

"Yes, sir, tank you, I's he'd of 'em."

"What did you hear about them?"

"O, dey is a werry bad sort of people, sir. Old massa said dat if deycould get a chance dey would take all our pickaninnies and smash derbrains out agin de trees!"

"Did you ever see an Abolitionist?"

"No, sir, tank you, nebber saw one."

"Well, Mr. Brown, I am one."

Mr. Brown started involuntarily. He looked me all over from head tofeet, giving a keen search. "'Pears how I shouldn't tink you could habde heart to do it, sir."

"Do I look as though I should like to kill your little ones?"

"No, sir, I don't tink you would."

I told him who the Abolitionists were, and what they wished(p. 234)to do,—that they were friends of the slaves, and always had been. Hegrasped my hand, and said, "God bless you, sir." And then burst intohearty laughter.

Having been informed that it would be impossible to obtain a fowl ofthe negroes at that season of the year, I made the attempt; but thoughI offered treble the value, not one would part with a hen. They werelooking forward to broods of chickens which would bring them in"heaps" of money in the fall of the year. The negro race understandsthe value of money quite as well as we who boast of Anglo-Saxon blood.

Entering the head-quarters of the commanding officer one day, I saw athin, spare colored woman sitting before the fire. She nodded andsmiled, ran her eyes over me, as if to take in every feature orpeculiarity of my person and dress, then gazed into the fire andseemed absorbed in her own thoughts. A friend said, "That is ourSojourner Truth."

She had brought off several companies of negroes from the mainland,and had given a great deal of information concerning the movements ofthe Rebels. She had penetrated swamps, endured hardships, eluded Rebelpickets, visiting the plantations at midnight, and conversing with theslaves.

"I can travel all through the South, I reckon," she said.

"Are you not afraid that the Rebels will catch you?"

"Well, honey, I reckon they couldn't keep me," she said, with a smile.

She had exhibited such remarkable shrewdness and finesse in herexploits, and had rendered such valuable services to the department,that she was held in high esteem.

At that time, Mrs. Frances D. Gage, favorably known as a writer forthe press, was residing on Paris Island. Seated one evening by thebright fire blazing on her hearth, I listened to her narrative ofSojourner Truth, who had been a slave, who had penetrated the farSouth in search of her lost children, who had run off many slaves toCanada, and who went round the country, impelled by the convictionthat she had been called of God to testify against the sins of thepeople; hence her name, "Sojourner Truth."

The Nation's Ward.

The narration revealed traits of character, not unfrequently(p. 235) seen in the negro race, and it will not be out of place inthis chapter, which is intended to give the position of a race at itslowest plane of life.

This wonderful woman lives in modern art. She is the original LibyanSibyl, a statue by Mr. Story, which was more impressive than allothers in the gallery of the World's Exhibition in London in 1862.Sojourner once called upon Mrs. Stowe, who has given us this accountof the interview:[44]—

In the spring of 1851, a Woman's Rights Convention was held in Akron,Ohio. The newspapers had ridiculed such conventions, and they werelooked upon as legitimate subjects for ridicule. They had beenvilified and caricatured, but there was a desire through that sectionof the country to hear what the women would have to say forthemselves, and the church in which the meeting was held wasconsequently crowded. Sojourner Truth was there. Mrs. Gage waspresident of the meeting. She said:—

The enlistment of negro troops began at Port Royal in the fall of1862, and by midwinter the First South Carolina, commanded by ColonelHigginson, had its ranks nearly full. There was strong prejudice inthe army against employing negroes. The New Jersey troops in thedepartment of the South were bitterly hostile. Colonel Stevenson, ofMassachusetts, a gallant officer, having imprudently given utteranceto his feelings upon the subject, was arrested by General Hunter,which caused a great deal of excitement in the army, and whichattracted the attention of the country to the whole subject.

The day after the arrest of Colonel Stevenson, a scene occurred in thecabin of the steamer Wyoming, plying between Beaufort and Hilton Head,which is given as a historical note. The party consisted of severalladies, one or two chaplains, fifteen or twenty officers, fournewspaper correspondents, and several civilians.

A young captain in the Tenth New Jersey opened the conversation.

"I wish," said he, "that every negro was compelled to take off hishat to a white man. I consider him an inferior being."

(p. 244) "You differ from General Washington, who took off his hat andsaluted a negro," said one of the correspondents.

"General Washington could afford to do it," said the captain, a littlestaggered.

"Are we to understand that in this age a captain cannot afford toequal a negro in politeness?" was the provoking question of thecorrespondent.

"Do you want to be buried with a nigger, and have your bones touch hisin the grave?"

"As to that I have no feeling whatever. I do not suppose that it willmake much difference to the bones of either party."

"Well, when I die I want twenty niggers packed all around me," shoutedthe captain, excitedly, turning to the crowd to see the effect of hissarcasm.

"I presume, sir, you can be accommodated if you can get the consent ofthe twenty negroes."

The captain saw that he was losing his argument by losing his temper,and in calmer tones said: "I want to see the negro kept in his properplace. I am perfectly willing he should use the shovel, but it is anoutrage upon the white man,—an insult to have him carry a musket."

"I would just as soon see a negro shot as to get shot myself. I amperfectly willing that all the negroes should help put down theRebellion," said the correspondent.

"I am not willing to have them act as soldiers. Put them in theditches, where they belong. They are an inferior race."

A second correspondent broke in. "Who are you, sir?" said he; "you whocondemn the government? You forget that you as a soldier have nothingto say about the orders of the President or the laws of Congress. Yousay that the negro is an inferior being; what do you say of FrederickDouglass, who has raised himself from slavery to a high position? Yourstraps were placed on your shoulders, not because you had doneanything to merit them, but because you had friends to intercede foryou,—using their political influence,—or because you had money, andcould purchase your commission. You hate the negro, and you want tokeep him in slavery, and you allow your prejudice to carry you to theverge of disloyalty to the government which pays you for unworthilywearing your shoulder-straps."

(p. 245) The captain and the entire company listened in silence whileanother correspondent took up the question.

"Gentleman, you denounce the negro; you say that he is an inferiorbeing. You forget that we white men claim to stand on the highestplane of civilization,—that we are of a race which for a thousandyears has been in the front rank,—that the negro has been bruised,crushed, trodden down,—denied all knowledge, all right, everything;that we have compelled him to labor for us, and we have eaten thefruit of his labors. Can we expect him to be our equal in acquisitionof knowledge? Where is your sense of fair play? Are you afraid thatthe negro will push you from your position? Are you afraid that if youallow him to aid in putting down the Rebellion, that he too willbecome a free man, and have aspirations like your own, and in timeexpress toward you the samechivalric sentiments which you expresstoward him? How much do you love your country if you thus makeconditions of loyalty?"

The captain made no reply. The whole company was silent. There weresmiles from the ladies. The captain went out upon the deck, evidentlyregretting that the conversation had fallen upon so exciting a topic.

The First South Carolina Regiment of loyal blacks was in camp onSmith's plantation, four miles out from Beaufort. We rode over a sandyplain, through old cotton-fields, pine-barrens, and jungles, past adozen negro-huts, where the long tresses of moss waved mournfully inthe breeze. The men had gathered a boat-load of oysters, and werehaving a feast,—old and young, gray-headed men, and curly-hairedchildren, were huddled round the pans, steaming and smoking over thepitch-knot fires.

Smith's plantation is historic ground,—the place where the Huguenotsbuilt a fort long before the Mayflower cast anchor in Cape Cod harbor.The plantation was well known to the colored people before the war asa place to be dreaded,—a place for hard work, unmerciful whippings,with very little to eat. The house and the negro quarters were in adelightful grove of live-oaks, whose evergreen leaves, wide-spreadingbranches, thick foliage, and gnarled trunks, gave cooling(p. 246)shade. In front of the house, leading down to the fort, is a magnoliawalk. Behind the house, in a circular basin,—a depression often foundon sandy plains,—was the garden, surrounded by a thick-set, fantasticpalmetto hedge. The great oak between the house and the garden, wasthe whipping-post. One of the branches was smooth, as if a swing hadbeen slung there, and the bark had been worn by the rope swaying tothe merry chattering and light-hearted laughter of children. Not that,however. There the offender of plantation law,—of a master'scaprice,—had paid the penalty of disobedience; there men, women, andchildren, suspended by the thumbs, stripped of their clothing,received the lash. Their moans, groans, cries, and prayers fellunheeding on overseer, master, and mistress,—but heard and heededthey were in heaven, and kept in remembrance. And the hour ofretribution had come, the time of deliverance was near.

What a choice spot for the punishment of the criminal! close to thehouse,—where the master, the mistress, their sons and daughters, theinfant at the nurse's breast, could see the blood fly.

The plantation jail was in the loft of the granary, beneath apitch-pine roof, which, under the heat of a midsummer sun, was like anoven. There was one little window in the gable for the admission ofair. There were iron rings and bolts in the beams and rafters, wherethe slaves were chained.

The owner of the plantation was not unmindful of the religious wantsof his fellow-Christians. West of the house was the plantation chapel,a whitewashed building of rough boards, twenty feet by thirty, with arude belfry, where hung the plantation bell, which on week-days wasrung at daybreak. Charmingly its music floated over the blue waters ofBeaufort Bay, mingling with the morning winds, swaying the magnoliabranches, calling the hands—men, women, and children—to theirunrequited tasks in the cotton-field. On Sunday it called them, withsilvery lips and melting sounds, to come and worship: not to studyGod's Word, not to bow down with him who—by the "divine missionaryinstitution," as the Southern doctors of divinity called it, was theirmaster, ordained of God—could separate husband and wife, or toss ina baby(p. 247) to boot, in a bargain; not to bow down with him, forhe worshipped in Beaufort, in the ancient church;—he was a chivalricson of South Carolina, riding up in his coach, and leaving his fourhundred fellow-disciples to grope their way to heaven, directed by apious bondman, as best they might.

If one wish for a flood of reflections, he will be overwhelmed on sucha spot.

The First South Carolina was at drill beneath the oak, drilling asskirmishers, advancing, retiring, rallying, deploying, loading andfiring, with precision. They had already been under fire in anexpedition up one of the Georgia rivers.

I had breakfasted with the captain of the steamer Darlington, whichwas used as a transport on the occasion, who showed me the numerousbullet-marks on the steamer.

"How did the negroes stand fire?" I asked. "They fought splendidly,sir."

It was no longer an experiment whether they would make good soldiers.They had demonstrated it by their courage and patriotism. Theantipathy which at the beginning was rampant quickly toned down. Thedeportment of the colored soldiers under insult, their bravery inbattle, compelled respect from all who had doubted their heroism orfidelity.

In the attack upon Jacksonville, which occurred on the 12th of March,an old patriarch—too old to do any fighting—harangued the troops,and told them that every one who should be killed in a cause so holywould be pretty sure of stepping directly into heaven; but that ifthey hung back and showed that they were cowards, there wasn't muchhope of eternal life for such! He was greatly venerated by thesoldiers, for he had been a preacher.

A bird's-nest Bank.

(p. 248) CHAPTER XVI.
THE IRONCLADS IN ACTION.

After vexatious delays, the ironclad fleet was ready for action. Itwas deemed desirable to test their armor, before attacking Sumter, bymaking a reconnoissance of Fort McAllister, on the Ogeechee.

It was late on the afternoon of March 1st, when the steamer GeorgeWashington left Hilton Head for a trip to Ossabow Sound. The Passaic,Montauk, Nahant, and Patapsco, ironclads of the Monitor pattern, werealready there. The Washington took the "inside" route up WilmingtonRiver and through the Rumley marshes. The gunboat Marblehead wasguarding the entrance to the river. It was past sunset, and the tidewas ebbing.

"You had better lie here till morning; there are indications that weshall hear from those fellows up there," said the commander of theMarblehead. Looking westward into the golden light of the departingday, we could see the spires of Savannah, also nearer the Rebelgunboats moving up and down the river.

The anchor dropped, the chain rattled through the hawsehole, thelights were extinguished, the guns put in trim; the lookout took hisposition; the sentinels passed to and fro, peering into the darkness;a buoy was attached to the cable, that it might be slipped in aninstant; all ears listened to catch the sound of muffled oars orplashing paddle-wheels, but there was no sound save the piping of thecurlew in the marshes and the surging of the tide along the reedyshores. At three o'clock in the morning we were away from ouranchorage, steaming up Wilmington River. The moonlight lay in a goldenflood along the waters, revealing the distant outline of the Rebelearthworks. How charming the trip! exhilarating, and sufficientlyexciting, under the expectation of falling in with a hostile gunboat,to bring every nerve into action. It was sunrise when the Washingtonemerged from the marshes and came to anchor(p. 249) among theironclads. The Montauk had just completed a glorious work,—thedestruction of the Nashville. We had heard the roar of her guns, andthe quick, ineffectual firing from Fort McAllister.

The Nashville, which began her piratical depredations by burning theship Harvey Birch, ran into Savannah, where she had been cooped upseveral months. She had been waiting many weeks for an opportunity torun out to sea again. On Saturday morning, the last day of February, adense fog hung over the marshes, the islands, and inlets of Ossabow.The Montauk lay at the junction of the Great and Little OgeecheeRivers, when the fog lifted and the Nashville was discovered agroundabove the fort.

The eyes of Captain Worden sparkled as he gave the command to preparefor action. He had not forgotten his encounter with the Merrimack. TheMontauk moved up stream, came within range of the fort, which openedfrom all its guns, but to which Captain Worden gave no heed. Taking aposition about three quarters of a mile from the Nashville and half amile from the fort, he opened with both guns upon the groundedsteamer, to which the Nashville replied with her hundred-pounder. Thethird shell from the Montauk exploded inside the steamer, setting hercotton on fire. The flames spread with great rapidity. Her crew fledto the marshes, the magazine soon exploded, and the career of theNashville was ended.

At high tide on the morning of the 3d of March the Passaic, Patapsco,and Nahant moved up the Ogeechee, and opened fire on the fort, to testthe working of their machinery. The fire was furious from the fort,but slow and deliberate from the ironclads. Several mortar-schoonersthrew shells in the direction of the fort. The monitors were obligedto retire with the tide. They were struck repeatedly, but the ballsfell harmlessly against the iron plating. It was evident that at thedistance of three fourths of a mile, or a half-mile even, theironclads could withstand the heaviest guns, while on the other handthe fire of the monitors must necessarily be very slow. The attack wasmade, not with the expectation of reducing the fort, but to test themonitors before the grand attack upon Fort Sumter.

(p. 250) The first attack on Sumter occurred on the 7th of April. Thefort stood out in bold relief, the bright noon-sun shining full uponits southern face, fronting the shallow water towards Morris Island,leaving in shadow its eastern wall toward Moultrie. The air was clear,and we who were on shipboard just beyond the reach of the Rebel guns,looking inland with our glasses, could see the city, the spires, theroofs of the houses thronged with people. A three-masted ship lay atthe wharves, the Rebel rams were fired up, sail-boats were scuddingacross the harbor, running down toward Sumter, looking seaward, thenhastening back again like little children, expectant and restless ongreat occasions, eager for something to be done.

The attacking fleet was in the main ship-channel,—eight little blackspecks but little larger than the buoys which tossed beside them, andone black, oblong block, the New Ironsides, the flag-ship of thefleet. It was difficult to comprehend that beneath the surface of thesea there were men as secure from the waves as bugs in a bottle. Itwas as strange and romantic as the stories which charmed the Arabianchieftains in the days of Haroun Al Raschid.

The ironclads were about one third of a mile apart, in the followingorder:—

The Keokuk was built by a gentleman who had full faith in herinvulnerability. She was to be tested under fire from the Rebelbatteries before accepted by the government. She had sloping sides,two turrets, and was built for a ram. The opinions generallyentertained were that she would prove a failure.

General Hunter courteously assigned the steamer Nantucket to thegentlemen connected with the press, giving them complete control ofthe steamer, to go where they pleased, knowing that there was anintense desire not only in the North, but throughout the world, toknow the result of the first contest between ironclads andfortifications. The Nantucket was a small side-wheel steamer of lightdraft, and we were able to run in and out over the bar at will. Justbefore the signal was given for the advance we ran alongside theflag-ship. The(p. 251) crew were hard at work hoisting shot andshells from the hold to the deck. The upper deck was bedded withsand-bags, the pilot-house wrapped with cable. All the light hamperwas taken down and stowed away. The iron plating was slushed withgrease. Rebel soldiers were marching across Morris Island, within easyrange. A shell would have sent them in haste behind the sand-hills;but heavier work was at hand, and they were harmless just then.

It was past one o'clock when the signal for sailing was displayed fromthe flag-ship, and the Weehawken, with a raft at her prow, intended toremove torpedoes, answered the signal, raised her anchor, and wentsteadily in with the tide, followed by the others, which maintainedtheir respective positions, distant from each other about one third ora half-mile. In this battle of ironclads there are no clouds ofcanvas, no beautiful models of marine architecture, none of thestateliness and majesty which have marked hundreds of great navalengagements. There are no human beings in sight,—no propelling poweris visible. There are simply eight black specks and one oblong blockgliding along the water, like so many bugs.

But Sumter has discovered them, and discharges in quick successionnine signal guns, to announce to all Rebeldom that the attack is to bemade. Morris Island is mysteriously silent as the Weehawken advances,although she is within range. Past Fort Wagner, straight on towardMoultrie the Weehawken moves. The silence is prolonged. It is almostpainful,—the calm before the storm, the hushed stillness before theburst of the tornado!

There comes a single puff of smoke from Moultrie,—one deepreverberation. The silence is broken,—the long months of waiting areover. The shot flies across the water, skipping from wave to wave,tossing up fountains, hopping over the deck of the Weehawken, androlling along the surface with a diminishing ricochet, sinking at lastclose upon the Morris Island beach. Fort Wagner continues the story,sending a shot at the Weehawken, which also trips lightly over thedeck, and tosses up a water-spout far toward Moultrie. The Weehawken,unmindful of this play, opens its ports, and sends(p. 252) afifteen-inch solid shot toward Sumter, which, like those that havebeen hurled toward her, takes a half-dozen steps, making for a momentits footprints on the water, and crashes against the southwest face ofthe fort, followed a moment later by its eleven-inch companion. Thevessel is for a moment enveloped in the smoke of its guns. Bravelydone! There comes an answer. Moultrie, with the tremendous batterieson either side by the hotel and east of it, and toward the innerharbor, bursts in an instant into sheets of flame and clouds ofsulphurous smoke. There is one long roll of thunder, peal on peal;deep, heavy reverberations and sharp concussions, rattling the windowsof our steamers, and striking us at the heart like hammer strokes.

The ocean boils! Columns of spray are tossed high in air, as if ahundred submarine fountains were let instantly on, or a school ofwhales were trying which could spout highest. There is a screaming inthe air, a buzzing and humming never before so loud.

At five minutes before three Moultrie began the fire. Ten minutes havepassed. The thunder has rolled incessantly from Sullivan's Island.Thus far Sumter has been silent, but now it is enveloped with a cloud.A moment it is hid from view—first a line of light along its parapet,and thick folds of smoke unrolling like fleeces of wool. Other flashesburst from the casemates, and the clouds creep down the wall to thewater, then slowly float away to mingle with that rising from thefurnaces in the sand along the shore of Sullivan's Island. Then comesa calm,—a momentary cessation. The Rebel gunners wait for the breezeto clear away the cloud, that they may obtain a view of the monitor,to see if it have not been punched into a sieve, and if it be notalready disappearing beneath the waves. But the Weehawken is there,moving straight on up the channel, turning now toward Moultrie. To herit has been only a handful of peas or pebbles. Some have rattledagainst her turret, some upon her deck, some against her sides.Instead of going to the bottom, she revolves her turret, and fire twoshots at Moultrie, moving on the while to gain the south eastern wallof Sumter.

Again the forts and batteries begin, joined now by Cummings Point andlong ranges from Fort Johnson. All around(p. 253) the Weehawken theshot flash, plunge, hop, skip, falling like the rain-drops of a summershower. Unharmed, undaunted, she moves straight on, feeling her way,moving slowly, with grappling-irons dragging from the raft in front tocatch up torpedoes. It is for the Weehawken to clear the channel, andmake smooth sailing for the remainder of the fleet.

To get the position of the Weehawken at this moment, draw a line fromCummings Point to Moultrie, and stick a pin on the line a littlenearer to Moultrie than to Morris Island. It is about one half a milefrom Moultrie, about one third of a mile from Sumter.

There she is,—the target of probably two hundred and fifty or threehundred guns, of the heaviest calibre, at close range, rifled cannonthrowing forged bolts and steel-pointed shot, turned and polished to ahair in the lathes of English workshops,—advancing still, undergoingher first ordeal, a trial unparalleled in history!

For fifteen minutes she meets the ordeal alone, but the channel foundto be clear, the Passaic, the Montauk, and Patapsco follow, closing upthe line, each coming in range and delivering their fire upon Sumter.At twenty minutes past three the four monitors composing the rightwing of the fleet are all engaged, each pressing on to reach thenortheastern face of the fort, where the wall is weakest, eachreceiving as they arrive at particular points a terrible fire,seemingly from all points of the compass,—points selected by trialand practice indicated by buoys. They pass the destructive latitudesunharmed. Seventy guns a minute are counted, followed by moments ofcalm and scattering shots, but only to break out again in a prolongedroar of thunder. They press on, making nearer and nearer to Sumter,narrowing the distance to one thousand yards, eight hundred, six,five, four hundred yards, and send their fifteen-inch shot crashingagainst the fort, with deliberate, effective fire.

At first the fort and the batteries and Moultrie seem to redoubletheir efforts in increasing the fire, but after an hour there is aperceptible diminution of the discharges from the fort. After eachshot from the ironclads, clouds of dust can be discerned rising abovethe fort and mingling with the smoke.(p. 254) Steadying my glass inthe lulls of the strife, watching where the southwest breeze whiffsaway the smoke, I can see increasing pock-marks and discolorationsupon the walls, as if there had been a sudden breaking out ofcutaneous disease.

The flag-ship, drawing seventeen feet of water, was obliged to movecautiously, feeling her way up the channel. Just as she came withinrange of Moultrie her keel touched bottom on the east side of thechannel; fearing that she would run aground the anchor was let go.Finding the vessel was clear, the Admiral again moved on, signallingthe left wing to press forward to the aid of the four already engaged.The Ironsides kept the main channel, which brought her within aboutone thousand yards of Moultrie and Sumter. She fired four guns atMoultrie, and received in return a heavy fire. Again she touchedbottom, and then turned her bow across the channel toward Sumter,firing two guns at Cummings Point. After this weak and ineffectualeffort, the tide rapidly ebbing the while, she again got clear, butgave up the attempt to advance. The Catskill, Nantucket, Nahant, andKeokuk pressed up with all possible speed to aid the four which werereceiving a tremendous hammering.

See them sweep past the convergent points and radial lines! See thebubbling of the water,—the straight columns thrown up in thesunlight,—the flashes, the furrows along the waves, as if a ploughdriven with lightning speed were turning up the water! They are allclose up to Sumter, within four or five hundred yards. Behind them areMoultrie and Fort Ripley, and Fort Beauregard, flashing, smoking,bellowing; in front is Sumter, and in the background are Fort Wagnerand Cummings Point. Across the shallow waters is Fort Johnson; stillfarther off to the right is Castle Pinckney, too far away to dodamage. From all sides the balls fall around the fleet. Calmly anddeliberately the fire is returned,—with a deliberation which musthave commanded the admiration of the enemy.

The Keokuk presented a fair mark with her sloping sides and doubleturrets. Her commander, Captain Rhind, although not having entireconfidence in her invulnerability, was determined to come to closequarters. She was not to be outdone by the ironclads who had led theadvance. Swifter than they, drawing less(p. 255) water, she madehaste to get up with the Weehawken. The guns which had been trainedupon the others were brought to bear upon her. Where she sailed thefire was fiercest. Her plating was but pine wood to the steelprojectiles, flying with almost the swiftness of a minnie bullet. Shotwhich glanced harmlessly from the others penetrated her angled sides.Her after turret was pierced in a twinkling, and a two-hundred poundprojectile dropped inside. A heavy shot crashed into the surgeon'sdispensary, and mixed emetics, cathartics, pills and powders notaccording to prescriptions. The enemy noticed the effect of his shotand increased his fire. Captain Rhind was not easily daunted. Heopened his forward turret and gave three shots in return for the threeor four hundred rained around him. The sea with every passing waveswept through the shot-holes, and he was forced to retire or go to thebottom with all on board.

The tide was ebbing fast, and the signal for retiring was displayed bythe flag-ship. It was raised, seemingly, at an inopportune moment, forthe fire of the fort had sensibly diminished, while that from theironclads was steady and true. It was past five o'clock, almostsunset, when the fleet came back. Never had there been such ahammering of iron and smashing of masonry as during two and a halfhours of that afternoon. The gunboat Bibb, the Ben Deford, and theNantasket had taken position in the North Channel at a respectfuldistance off Sullivan's Island. A mile or two east of Moultrie isBeach Inlet, where a powerful battery had been erected. While intentlygazing on the contest, the correspondents and all hands on the othersteamers were startled by hearing the whiff and whiz of a rifleprojectile, which came diagonally across the Nantasket, across the bowof the Ben Deford, falling into the sea about one hundred yards ahead.There was a laughable cuddling down and scampering for thecoal-bunkers, the engine-room, and between decks. There was animmediate hauling in of cables and motion of paddle-wheels. A secondshot in admirable line fell short. We being at anchor and withinrange, the Rebel gunner had made nice calculations. He had alreadyfired a half-dozen shots, which had fallen far ahead unnoticed.Cummings Point also tried to reach us with(p. 256) shells, butfailed. One of the correspondents claimed that the press completelysilenced a battery—by getting out of the way!

Steaming into the retiring fleet we ran alongside the Keokuk. A glanceat her sides showed how terrible the fire had been. Her smoke-stack,turrets, sides,—all were scarred, gashed, pierced through andthrough. An inspection revealed ninety-four short-marks. There werenone below the water-line, but each wave swept through the holes onthe sides. Her pumps were going and she was kept free. Only three ofher officers and crew were wounded, although she had been so badlyperforated.

"All right, nobody hurt, ready for them again," was the heartyresponse of Captain George Rodgers, of the Catskill, as I stepped uponthe slushed deck of that vessel and grasped the hand of her wide-awakecommander. The Catskill had received about thirty shots. Onetwo-hundred-pounder, thrown evidently from a barbette gun, had fallenwith tremendous force upon the deck, bending, but not breaking orpenetrating the iron. On the sides, on the turret, and on thepilot-house were indentations like saucers, but there was no sign ofserious damage.

The Nahant came down to her anchorage with a gashed smoke-stack. Goingon board, we found that eleven of her officers and crew had receivedcontusions from the flying of bolt-heads in the turret. One shot hadjammed the lower ridge of her turret, interfering with its revolution.She had been struck forty times, but—aside from the loss of a fewbolt-heads, a diminished draft to her chimney, and the slight jam uponthe turret—her armor was intact.

The other monitors had each a few bolts started. Four gun-carriagesneeded repairs,—injured not by the enemy's shot, but by their ownrecoil. One shot had ripped up the plating of the Patapsco and piercedthe wood-work beneath. This was the only shot, out of the twenty-fivehundred or three thousand supposed to have been fired from the fortswhich penetrated the monitors!

The Weehawken had received three heavy shot upon her side, theindentations close together. The plates were badly bent, but the shothad fallen as harmlessly as pebbles upon the side of a barn.

(p. 257) The Ironsides had received thirty balls, all of which hadbeen turned by her armor.

One hundred and fifty-three shots were fired by the fleet, againsttwenty-five hundred or three thousand by the Rebels. The monitors werestruck in the aggregate about three hundred and fifty times.

About six thousand pounds of iron were hurled at Fort Sumter duringthe short time the fleet was engaged, and probably five or six timesthat amount of metal, or thirty thousand pounds, was thrown at thefleet. The casualties on board the fleet were,—none killed; onemortally, one seriously, and thirteen slightly wounded.

Captain Ammen, commanding the Patapsco, was confident that the lastshots which he fired passed through the wall of the fort. He and othercommanders obeyed the signal for retiring with great reluctance. Theysaw that the fire of the fort was growing weaker,—that the wall wascrumbling. It is now known that the Rebel commander, General Ripley,was on the point of evacuating the fort when the signal was made forthe fleet to withdraw. The wall was badly shattered, and a few moreshots would have made it a complete ruin.

The lower casemates were soon after filled with sand-bags, the gunshaving been removed. The walls were buttressed with palmetto logs, andthe fort lost nearly all of its original features, but was madestronger than ever.

The Keokuk sunk in the morning on the bar. The sea was rough, and thewater poured through the shot-holes with every wave, so that it wasfound impossible to keep her afloat.

Admiral Dupont decided not to renew the attack, which caused a gooddeal of murmuring among the soldiers in the fleet. The ironcladsreturned to Hilton Head for repairs, the expedition was abandoned, andSumter was left to float its flag in defiance of Federal authority.

(p. 258) CHAPTER XVII.
THE INVASION OF PENNSYLVANIA.

The second invasion of the North was planned immediately after thebattle of Chancellorsville. The movement of General Lee was upon agreat circle,—down the valley of the Shenandoah, crossing the Potomacat Williamsport with his infantry and artillery, while General Stuart,with the main body of Rebel cavalry, kept east of the Blue Ridge toconceal the advance of the infantry.

General Hooker, at Fredericksburg, the first week in June, receivedpositive information that Lee was breaking up his camp, and that someof his divisions were moving towards Culpepper. The dust-clouds whichrose above the tree-tops indicated that the Rebel army was in motion.The Army of the Potomac immediately broke up its camp and moved toCatlett's Station, on the Orange and Alexandria Railroad, whereintelligence was received that Stuart had massed the Rebel cavalry atBrandy Station for a raid in Pennsylvania.

General Pleasanton, commanding the cavalry, was sent with his entireforce to look into the matter. He fell upon Stuart on the 9th of June,on the broad, open plains along the Rappahannock. A desperate battleensued,—probably it was the greatest cavalry battle of the war,—inwhich Stuart was driven back upon the Rebel infantry, which washurried up from Culpepper to his support. The object of the attack wasaccomplished,—Stuart's raid was postponed and Lee's movementunmasked. On the same day, Lee's advanced divisions reachedWinchester, attacked General Milroy, captured the town, the cannon inthe fortifications, and moved on to the Potomac.

Cavalry charge.

Hastening to Pennsylvania, I became an observer of the great eventswhich followed. The people of the Keystone State in 1862 rushed toarms when Lee crossed the Potomac, but in 1863 they were strangelyapathetic,—intent upon conveying their property to a place ofsecurity, instead of defending their(p. 259) homes. In '62 the crywas, "Drive the enemy from our soil!" in '63, "Where shall we hide ourgoods?"

Harrisburg was a Bedlam when I entered it on the 15th of June.

The railroad stations were crowded with an excited people,—men,women, and children,—with trunks, boxes, bundles; packages tied up inbed-blankets and quilts; mountains of baggage,—tumbling it into thecars, rushing here and there in a frantic manner; shouting, screaming,as if the Rebels were about to dash into the town and lay it in ashes.The railroad authorities were removing their cars and engines. Themerchants were packing up their goods; housewives were secreting theirsilver; everywhere there was a hurly-burly. The excitement wasincreased when a train of army wagons came rumbling over the longbridge across the Susquehannah, accompanied by a squadron of cavalry.It was Milroy's train, which had been ordered to make its way intoPennsylvania.

"The Rebels will be here to-morrow or next day," said the teamsters.

At the State-House, men in their shirt-sleeves were packing papersinto boxes. Every team, every horse and mule and handcart in the townwere employed. There was a steady stream of teams thundering acrossthe bridge; farmers from the Cumberland valley, with their householdfurniture piled upon the great wagons peculiar to the locality;bedding, tables, chairs, their wives and children perched on the top;kettles and pails dangling beneath; boys driving cattle and horses,excited, worried, fearing they knew not what. The scene was painful,yet ludicrous.

General Couch was in command at Harrisburg. He had but a few troops.He erected fortifications across the river, planted what few cannon hehad, and made preparations to defend the place.

General Lee was greatly in need of horses, and his cavalrymen, underGeneral Jenkins, ravaged the Cumberland Valley. A portion visitedChambersburg; another party, Mercersburg; another, Gettysburg, beforeany infantry entered the State.

Ewell's corps of Lee's army crossed the Potomac, a division atWilliamsport, and another at Shepherdstown, on the 22d of(p. 260)June, and came together at Hagerstown. The main body of Lee's army wasat Winchester. Stuart had moved along the eastern base of the BlueRidge, and had come in contact with a portion of Pleasanton's cavalryat Aldie and Middleburg. Hooker had swung the army up to Fairfax andCentreville, moving on an inner circle, with Washington for a pivot.

Visiting Baltimore, where General Schenck was in command, I found theMarylanders much more alive to the exigencies of the hour than thePennsylvanians. Instead of hurrying northward with their householdfurniture, they were hard at work building fortifications andbarricading the streets. Hogsheads of tobacco, barrels of pork, oldcarts, wagons, and lumber were piled across the streets, and patrioticcitizens stood, musket in hand, prepared to pick off any Rebel troops.

Colored men were impressed to construct fortifications. They were shyat first, fearing it was a trap to get them into slavery, but whenthey found they were to defend the city, they gave enthusiasticdemonstrations of joy. They went to their work singingtheirMarseillaise,

"John Brown's body," &c.

While writing in the Eutaw House, I heard the song sung by a thousandvoices, accompanied by the steady tramp, tramp, tramp of the menmarching down the street, cheering General Schenck as they passed hisquarters.

How rapid the revolution! Twenty-six months before, Massachusettstroops had fought their way through the city, now the colored men weresinging of John Brown amid the cheers of the people!

General Hooker waited in front of Washington till he was certain ofLee's intentions, and then by a rapid march pushed on to Frederick.Lee's entire army was across the Potomac. Ewell was at York, enrichinghimself by reprisals, stealings, and confiscations. General Hookerasked that the troops at Harper's Ferry might be placed under hiscommand, that he might wield the entire available force and crush Lee;this was refused, whereupon he informed the War Department that,unless this condition were complied with, he wished to be relieved ofthe command of the army. The matter was laid before(p. 261) thePresident and his request was granted. General Meade was placed incommand; and what was denied to General Hooker was substantiallygranted to General Meade,—that he was to use his best judgment inholding or evacuating Harper's Ferry! General Halleck was militaryadviser to the President, and the question between him and Hooker waswhether Halleck, sitting in his chair at Washington, or Hooker at thehead of the army, should fight General Lee. The march of Hooker fromFairfax to Frederick was one of the most rapid of the war. TheEleventh Corps marched fifty-four miles in two days,—a strikingcontrast to the movement in September, 1862, when the army made butfive miles a day.

It was a dismal day at Frederick when the news was promulgated thatGeneral Hooker was relieved of the command. Notwithstanding the resultat Chancellorsville, the soldiers had a good degree of confidence inhim. General Meade was unknown except to his own corps. He entered thewar as brigadier in the Pennsylvania Reserves. He commanded a divisionat Antietam and at Fredericksburg, and the Fifth Corps atChancellorsville.

General Meade cared but little for the pomp and parade of war. His ownsoldiers respected him because he was always prepared to endurehardships. They saw a tall, slim, gray-bearded man, wearing a slouchhat, a plain blue blouse, with his pantaloons tucked into his boots.He was plain of speech, and familiar in conversation. He enjoyed in ahigh degree, especially after the battle of Fredericksburg, theconfidence of the President.

I saw him soon after he was informed that the army was under hiscommand. There was no elation, but on the contrary he seemed weigheddown with a sense of the responsibility resting on him. It was in thehotel at Frederick. He stood silent and thoughtful by himself. Few ofall the noisy crowd around knew of the change that had taken place.The correspondents of the press knew it long before the corpscommanders were informed of the fact. No change was made in themachinery of the army, and there was but a few hours' delay in itsmovement.

General Hooker bade farewell to the principal officers of the army onthe afternoon of the 28th. They were drawn up in(p. 262) line. Heshook hands with each officer, laboring in vain to stifle his emotion.The tears rolled down his cheeks. The officers were deeply affected.He said that he had hoped to lead them to victory, but the power abovehim had ordered otherwise. He spoke in high terms of General Meade. Hebelieved that they would defeat the enemy under his leadership.

While writing out the events of the day in the parlor of a privatehouse during the evening, I heard the comments of several officersupon the change which had taken place.

"Well, I think it is too bad to have him removed just now," said acaptain.

"I wonder if we shall have McClellan back?" queried a lieutenant.

"Well, gentlemen, I don't know about Hooker as a commander in thefield, but I do know the Army of the Potomac was never so well fed andclothed as it has been since Joe Hooker took command."

"That is so," said several.

After a short silence, another officer took up the conversation andsaid,—

"Yes, the army was in bad condition when he took command of it, andbad off every way; but it never was in better condition than it isto-day, and the men begin to like him."

The army was too patriotic to express any dissatisfaction, and in afew days the event was wholly forgotten.

It was evident that a collision of the two armies must take placebefore many days, and their positions, and the lines of movementindicated that it must be near Gettysburg, which is the county seat ofAdams, Pennsylvania, nearly forty miles a little north of east fromFrederick, on the head-waters of the Monocacy. Rock Creek, which inspring-time leaps over huge granite boulders, runs south, a mile eastof the town, and is the main stem of the Monocacy. Being a countyseat, it is also a grand centre for that section of the State,contains three thousand inhabitants, and has a pleasant location,surrounded with scenery of quiet beauty, hills, valleys, the darkoutline and verdure-clad sides of the Blue Ridge in the west, and thebillowy Catoctin range on the south. Roads radiate in all directions.It was a central point, admitting of a quick concentration of forces.

(p. 263) The army commanded by General Meade consisted of seven corps.

1. Major-General Reynolds; 2. Major-General Hancock; 3. Major-GeneralSickles; 5. Major-General Sykes; 6. Major-General Sedgwick; 11.Major-General Howard; 12. Major-General Slocum.

As Ewell was at York, and as Lee was advancing in that direction, itwas necessary to take a wide sweep of country in the march. All Sundaythe army was passing through Frederick. It was a strange sight. Thechurches were open, and some of the officers and soldiers attendedservice,—a precious privilege to those who before entering the armywere engaged in Sabbath schools. The stores also were open, and thetown was cleaned of goods,—boots, shoes, needles, pins, tobacco,pipes, paper, pencils, and other trifles which add to a soldier'scomfort.

Advance to Gettysburg.

Cavalry, infantry, and artillery were pouring through the town, thebands playing, and the soldiers singing their liveliest(p. 264)songs. The First Corps moved up the Emmettsburg road, and formed theleft of the line; the Eleventh Corps marched up a parallel road alittle farther east, through Griegerstown. The Third and Twelfth Corpsmoved on parallel roads leading to Taneytown. The Second and Fifthmoved still farther east, through Liberty and Uniontown, while theSixth, with Gregg's division of cavalry, went to Westminster, formingthe right of the line.

The lines of march were like the sticks of a fan, Frederick being thepoint of divergence.

On this same Sunday afternoon Lee was at Chambersburg, directingEwell, who was at York, to move to Gettysburg. A. P. Hill was movingeast from Chambersburg towards the same point, while Longstreet's, thelast corps to cross the Potomac, was moving through Waynesboro' andFairfield, marching northeast towards the same point.

It was a glorious spectacle, that movement of the army north fromFrederick. I left the town accompanying the Second and Fifth Corps.Long lines of men and innumerable wagons were visible in everydirection. The people of Maryland welcomed the soldiers hospitably.

When the Fifth Corps passed through the town of Liberty, a farmer rodeinto the village, mounted on his farm-wagon. His load was covered bywhite table-cloths.

"What have ye got to sell, old fellow? Bread, eh?" said a soldier,raising a corner of the cloth, and revealing loaves of sweet softplain bread, of the finest wheat, with several bushels ofginger-cakes.

"What do you ask for a loaf?"

"I haven't any to sell," said the farmer.

"Haven't any to sell? What are ye here for?"

The farmer made no reply.

"See here, old fellow, won't ye sell me a hunk of your gingerbread?"said the soldier, producing an old wallet.

"No."

"Well, you are a mean old cuss. It would be serving you right to tipyou out of your old bread-cart. Here we are marching all night and allday to protect your property, and fight the Rebs. We haven't had anybreakfast, and may not have any(p. 265) dinner. You are a set of meancusses round here, I reckon," said the soldier.

A crowd of soldiers had gathered, and others expressed theirindignation. The old farmer stood up on his wagon-seat, took off thetable-cloths, and replied,—

"I didn't bring my bread here to sell. My wife and daughters set upall night to bake it for you, and you are welcome to all I've got, andwish I had ten times as much. Help your selves, boys."

"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" "Bully for you!" "You're a brick!" "Threecheers for the old man!" "Three more for the old woman!" "Three morefor the girls!"

They threw up their caps, and fairly danced with joy. The bread andcakes were gone in a twinkling.

"See here, my friend, I take back all the hard words I said aboutyou," said the soldier, shaking hands with the farmer, who sat on hiswagon overcome with emotion.

On Tuesday evening, General Reynolds, who was at Emmettsburg, sentword to General Meade that the Rebels were evidently approachingGettysburg. At the same time, the Rebel General Stuart, with hiscavalry, appeared at Westminster. He had tarried east of the BlueRidge till Lee was across the Potomac,—till Meade had started fromFrederick,—then crossing the Potomac at Edwards's Ferry, he pusheddirectly northeast of the Monocacy, east of Meade's army, throughWestminster, where he had a slight skirmish with some of the Unioncavalry, moved up the pike to Littlestown and Hanover and joined Lee.

Riding to Westminster I overtook General Gregg's division of cavalry,and on Wednesday moved forward with it to Hanover Junction, which isthirty miles east of Gettysburg. There, while our horses were eatingtheir corn at noon, I heard the distant cannonade, the opening of thegreat battle.

Striking directly across the country, I rejoined the Fifth Corps atHanover. There were dead horses and dead soldiers in the streets lyingwhere they fell. The wounded had been gathered into a school-house,and the warm-hearted women of the place were ministering to theircomfort. It was evening. The bivouac fires of the Fifth Corps weregleaming in the(p. 266) meadows west of the town, and the worn andweary soldiers were asleep, catching a few hours of repose beforemoving on to the place where they were to lay down their lives fortheir country.

It was past eight o'clock on Thursday morning, July 2d, before wereached the field. The Fifth Corps, turning off from the Hanover road,east of Rock Creek, passed over to the Baltimore pike, crossed RockCreek, filed through the field on the left hand and moved towardsLittle Round-top, or Weed's Hill as it is now called.

Riding directly up the pike towards the cemetery, I saw the TwelfthCorps on my right, in the thick woods crowning Culp's Hill. Beyond,north of the pike, was the First Corps. Ammunition wagons were goingup, and the artillerymen were filling their limber chests. Pioneerswere cutting down the trees.

Reaching the top of the hill in front of the cemetery gate thebattle-field was in view. To understand a battle, the movements of theopposing forces, and what they attempt to accomplish, it is necessaryfirst to comprehend the ground, its features, the hills, hollows,woods, ravines, ledges, roads,—how they are related. A rocky hill isfrequently a fortress of itself. Rail fences and stone walls are ofvalue, and a ravine may be equivalent to ten thousand men.

Tying my horse and ascending the stairs to the top of the gatewaybuilding, I could look directly down upon the town. The houses werenot forty rods distant. Northeast, three fourths of a mile, was Culp'sHill.

On the northern side of the Baltimore pike were newly mown fields, thegrass springing fresh and green since the mower had swept over it. Inthose fields were batteries with breastworks thrown up by Howard onWednesday night,—light affairs, not intended to resist cannon-shot,but to protect the cannoneers from sharpshooters. Howard's lines ofinfantry were behind stone-walls. The cannoneers were lying besidetheir pieces,—sleeping perhaps, but at any rate keeping close, for,occasionally, a bullet came singing past them. Looking north over thefields, a mile or two, we saw a beautiful farming country,—fields ofripened grain,—russet mingled with the green in the landscape.

(p. 267) Conspicuous among the buildings is the almshouse, with itsbrick walls, great barn, and numerous out-buildings, on the Harrisburgroad. Beyond are the houses of David and John Blocher,—John Blocher'sbeing at the junction of the Carlisle and Newville roads. Looking overthe town, the buildings of Pennsylvania College are in full view,between the road leading northwest to Mummasburg, and the unfinishedtrack of a railroad running west through a deep excavation a half-milefrom the college. The Chambersburg turnpike runs parallel to therailroad. South of this is the Lutheran Theological Seminary,beautifully situated, in front of a shady grove of oaks. West andsouthwest we look upon wheat, clover, and corn fields, on both sidesof the road leading to Emmettsburg. A half-mile west of this road isan elevated ridge of land, crowned with apple-orchards and groves ofoaks. Turning to the southeast, two miles distant, is Round-top,shaped like a sugar-loaf, rocky, steep, hard to climb, on its westernface, easy to be held by those who have possession, clad with oaks andpines. Nearer, a little east of the meridian, is Weed's Hill, withPlum Run at its western base, flowing through a rocky ravine. From thesides of the hill, and on its top, great boulders bulge, like plums ina pudding. It is very stony west of the hill, as if Nature in makingup the mould had dumped thedébris there.

Between Round-top and Weed's there is a gap, where men bent on adesperate enterprise might find a passway. Between Weed's and thecemetery the ridge is broken down and smoothed out into fields andpastures. The road to Taneytown runs east of this low ridge, the roadto Emmettsburg west of it. A small house stands on the west side ofthe Taneytown road, with the American flag flying in front of it.There are horses hitched to the fences, while others are nibbling thegrass in the fields. Officers with stars on their shoulders areexamining maps, writing, and sending off cavalrymen. It is GeneralMeade's head-quarters. When the Rebel batteries open it will be a warmplace.

Having taken a general look at the field, I rode forward towards thetown, between Stewart's and Taft's batteries, in position on eitherside of the road. Soldiers in blue were lying behind the gardenfences.

(p. 268) "Where are you going?" said one.

"Into the town."

"I reckon not. The Rebs hold it, and I advise you to turn about. It israther dangerous where you are. The Rebels are right over there inthat brick house."

Right over there was not thirty rods distant.

"Ping!"—and there was the sharp ring of a bullet over our heads.

General Howard was in the cemetery with his maps and plans spread uponthe ground.

"We are just taking a lunch, and there is room for one more," was hiskind and courteous welcome. Then removing his hat, he asked God tobless the repast. The bullets were occasionally singing over us.Soldiers were taking up the headstones and removing the monuments fromtheir pedestals.

"I want to preserve them, besides, if a shot should strike a stone,the pieces of marble would be likely to do injury," said the General.

The flowers were blooming around us. I gathered a handful as a mementoof the hour. Preparations were rapidly going on for the approachingstruggle. North, west, and southwest the whole country was alive withRebels,—long lines of men deploying in various directions, tentsgoing up, with yellow flags above them on the distant hills, thousandsof canvas-covered wagons, slowly winding along the roads, reaching asfar as the eye could see towards Chambersburg, Carlisle, andFairfield,—turning into the fields and taking positions in park.There were batteries of artillery, the cannon gleaming in the noondaysun, and hundreds of horsemen riding in hot haste on many a desperateerrand.

While partaking of our refreshment, General Howard narrated theoperations of the preceding day.

(p. 269) CHAPTER XVIII.
THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG.

On Tuesday evening, the 30th of June, General Reynolds was in camp onMarsh Run, a short distance from Emmettsburg, while General Howard,with the Eleventh Corps, was in that town. Instructions were receivedfrom General Meade assigning General Reynolds to the command of theFirst, Eleventh, and Third Corps. General Reynolds moved early in themorning to Gettysburg, and sent orders to General Howard to follow.General Howard received the orders at 8 o'clock in the morning.General Barlow's division of the Eleventh followed the First Corps bythe most direct road while General Schurz's and General Steinwehr'sdivisions went by Horner's Mills, the distance being thirteen miles.General Howard, with his staff, pushed on in advance of his troops.

Buford's division of cavalry passed through Gettysburg on Tuesday andwent into camp a mile and a half west of the town on the Chambersburgpike. At 9.30 A. M. on Wednesday, the Rebels of A. P. Hill's divisionappeared in front of him, and skirmishing commenced on the farm ofHon. Edward McPherson. General Reynolds rode into Gettysburg about 10o'clock in advance of his troops, turned up the Chambersburg road,reconnoitred the position, rode back again, met the head of his columna mile down the Emmettsburg road, turned it directly across thefields, towards the seminary, and deployed his divisions across theChambersburg road. General Archer's brigade of Heth's division of A.P. Hill's corps was advancing eastward, unaware of Reynolds'smovement. He had passed Herr's tavern, two miles beyond the town, whenhe found himself face to face with General Meredith's brigade ofReynolds's command. The fight opened at once. Archer and severalhundred of his men were captured. General Cutler, pushing out fromthe town between the half-finished railroad and the Chambersburg(p. 270) road, came in contact with Davis's brigade of Mississippians.The contest increased. General Reynolds, while riding along the line,was killed in the field beyond the Seminary, and the command devolvedon General Doubleday.

General Howard heard the cannonade, and riding rapidly up theEmmettsburg road entered the town, sent messengers in search ofGeneral Reynolds, asking for instructions, not knowing that he hadbeen killed.

While waiting the return of his aids, he went to the top of thecollege to reconnoitre the surrounding country. His aid, Major Biddle,soon came back, with the sad intelligence that General Reynolds hadfallen, and that the command devolved on himself.

It was half past eleven. The Rebels were appearing in increased force.The prisoners taken said that the whole of A. P. Hill's corps was nearby.

"You will have your hands full before night. Longstreet is near, andEwell is coming," said one, boastingly.

"After an examination of the general features of the country," saidGeneral Howard, "I came to the conclusion that the only tenableposition for my limited force was on this ridge. I saw that this wasthe highest point. You will notice that it commands all the othereminences. My artillery can sweep the fields completely."

He pointed towards the north, where across the pike, just beyond thegateway, were Colonel Wainwright's batteries of the First Corps, andaround us were Colonel Osborn's of the Eleventh. Behind us, east ofthe cemetery, was some of the reserve artillery.

The head of the Eleventh Corps reached Gettysburg about twelveo'clock. The first and third division passed through the town, movedout beyond the college, and joined the right of the First Corps.Howard sent three batteries and his second division, Steinwehr's, totake possession of the cemetery and the hill north of the Baltimorepike.

Thus far success had attended the Union arms. A large number ofprisoners had been taken with but little loss, and the troops wereholding their own against a superior force. About half past twelvecavalry scouts reported that Ewell was(p. 271) coming down the Yorkroad, and was not more than four miles distant. General Howard sent anaid to General Sickles, who was at Emmettsburg, requesting him to comeon with all haste. Another was sent down the Baltimore pike to the TwoTaverns, three miles distant, with a similar message to GeneralSlocum. The Second Corps was there,—resting in the fields. They hadheard the roar of the battle, and could see the clouds of smoke risingover the intervening hills. General Slocum was the senior officer. Hereceived the message, but did not, for reasons best known to himself,see fit to accede to the request. He could have put the Twelfth Corpsupon the ground in season to meet Ewell, but remained where he wastill after the contest for the day was over.

It was a quarter before three when Ewell's lines began to deploy byJohn Blocher's house on the York road. The Rebel batteries werewheeled into position, and opened on Wadsworth. Weiderick's battery inthe cemetery replied. Again a messenger went in haste to thedelinquent officer.

"I sent again to General Slocum, stating that my right flank wasattacked; that it was in danger of being turned, and asking him if hewas coming up," said General Howard.

The message was delivered to Slocum, who was still at the Two Taverns,where he had been through the day. Weiderick's battery was in plainview from that position, but General Slocum did not move.

This officer on Thursday and Friday did hard service. He afterwardcommanded acceptably one of Sherman's wings in the march from Atlantato the sea, but on the first day at Gettysburg his inaction, unlesssatisfactorily explained, will compel the impartial historian toassign him a lower place on the scroll of fame than would otherwisehave been accorded him.

Sickles was too far off to render assistance. Meanwhile Ewell waspressing on towards the college. Another division of Rebels underGeneral Pender came in from the southwest, and began to enfold theleft of Howard's line.

"I want a brigade to help me!" was the word from Schurz, commandingthe two divisions in front of Ewell, beyond the college.

(p. 272) "Send out Costa's brigade," said Howard to his chief of staff.The brigade went down through the town accompanied by a battery, andjoined the line, upon the double-quick. An hour passed, of close,desperate fighting. It wanted a quarter to four. Howard confronted byfour times his own force, was still holding his ground, waiting forSlocum. Another messenger rode to the Two Taverns, urging Slocum toadvance.

"I must have reinforcements!" was the message from Doubleday on theleft. "You must reinforce me!" was the word from Wadsworth in thecentre.

"Hold out a little longer, if possible; I am expecting General Slocumevery moment," was Howard's reply. Still another despatch was sent tothe Two Taverns, but General Slocum had not moved. The Rebel cannonwere cutting Wadsworth's line. Pender was sweeping round Doubleday;Ewell was enclosing Schurz. Sickles was five miles distant, advancingas fast as he could. Slocum was where he had been from early morning,three miles distant. The tide was turning. The only alternative was aretreat. It was past four o'clock. For six hours the ground had beenheld against a greatly superior force.

Major Howard, the General's brother, a member of his staff, dasheddown the pike in search of Slocum, with a request that he would moveat once, and send one division to the right and the other to the leftof Gettysburg. Slocum declined to go up to the front and take anyresponsibility, as he understood that General Meade did not wish tobring on a general engagement. He was willing, however, to sendforward his troops as General Howard desired, and issued his ordersaccordingly. Under military law the question might be raised whether asenior officer had a right to throw off the responsibility whichcircumstances had forced upon him; also whether he could turn over histroops to a subordinate.

The color-bearer.

But before the divisions of the Twelfth Corps could get in motion, theRebels had completely enfolded both flanks of Howard's line. The orderto retreat was given. The two corps came crowding through the town.The Rebels pressed on with cheers. Most of the First Corps reached thecemetery ridge, and were rallied by Howard, Steinwehr, and Hancock.This officer(p. 273) had just arrived. The troops were streamingover the hill, when he reined up his steed in the cemetery. He came,under direction of General Meade, to take charge of all the troops infront. The Eleventh Corps was hard pressed, and lost between two andthree thousand prisoners in the town.

The Rebels of Ewell's command pushed up the northern slope, throughthe hay-fields, flushed with victory; but Weiderick's battery pouredcanister in quick discharges into the advancing ranks, breaking theline.

The retreat was so orderly and the resistance so steady that theRebels gave utterance to their admiration. Said General Hill,—

"A Yankee color-bearer floated his standard in the field and theregiment fought around it; and when at last it was obliged to retreat,the color-bearer retired last of all, turning round now and then toshake his fist in the face of the advancing Rebels. He was sorry whenhe saw him meet his doom."[46]

Three color-bearers of the Nineteenth Indiana were shot. TheSergeant-Major, Asa Blanchard, ran and took the flag when the thirdman fell, waved it, and cried "Rally, boys!" The next moment he fell.His comrades stopped to carry him off. The Rebels were close at hand.

"Don't stop for me," he cried. "Don't let them have the flag. Tellmother I never faltered." They were his parting words to his comrades,who saved the flag.

General Hancock met General Howard and informed him of hisinstructions, saying, "General Meade undoubtedly supposed that I wasyour senior, but you outrank me."

"It is no time to talk about rank. I shall most cheerfully obey yourinstructions and do all in my power to co-operate with you," wasHoward's reply, thus waiving the command which was his by right. Theyperfectly agreed in what was to be done. General Howard took charge ofthe troops and batteries on the right of the line, while GeneralHancock brought order out of confusion on the left.

The Rebels having been repulsed by the batteries, and satisfied(p. 274) with the work of the day, made no further attack, althoughthey greatly outnumbered the Union force.

General Sickles arrived at seven o'clock, and General Slocum also cameup, he being the senior officer, General Howard turned over thecommand to him, while General Hancock went back to see General Meadeat Taneytown, to inform him of the state of affairs. The Third Corpsfiled into position on the left of the First, south of the cemetery,while the Twelfth took possession of Culp's Hill.

So closed the first day at Gettysburg.

SECOND DAY.

Thursday, July 2.

General Meade arrived on the battle-field at three o'clock on themorning of the 2d, and had an interview with General Howard soon afterby the cemetery gate. They rode along the lines together.

"I am confident that we can hold this position," said General Howard.

"I am glad to hear you say so, for it is too late to leave it," saidMeade.

The cannonade began at daybreak, the guns in the cemetery and those ofthe Rebels near Blocher's house keeping up a steady fire for an hour,when both parties, as if by mutual consent, became silent; but thepickets were at it all along the lines.

While I was conversing with General Howard, his brother, Major Howard,who was keeping a sharp look upon the Rebels, came running up. "Thereis a splendid chance to cut them up, General; just see them!"

A column of Rebels was moving along the Chambersburg road, and stoodout in bold relief.

"Let Osborn pitch in the shells from his rifled pieces," said theMajor.

General Howard surveyed them a moment and replied: "We might do themsome damage, but we are not quite ready to bring on a generalengagement. It isn't best to hurry. We shall have enough fightingbefore night."

The battle had not commenced in earnest. Lee was moving(p. 275) histroops towards the left. The Union pickets were posted along theEmmettsburg road; some were lying down in the wheat-fields beyond it,keeping up a steady interchange of shots with the Rebels. It was afavorable time to ride over the ground where the great contest was totake place.

The first division, General Ames's, of the Eleventh Corps, was northof the Baltimore pike, the third division, Schurz's, was on both sidesof it, and the second division, Steinwehr's, in the cemetery, lyingbehind the stone wall, which forms its western boundary. ColonelOsborn's batteries were on the crest of the ridge, in position to fireover the heads of the infantry. Robinson's division of the First Corpswas posted at the left of Steinwehr's, crossing the Taneytown road.Wadsworth's and Doubleday's divisions of the First were north of theBaltimore pike, to the right of General Ames, reaching to Culp's Hill,where they joined the Twelfth Corps.

Riding down the road towards Taneytown, I came upon General Stannard'sbrigade of nine months' Vermont boys, lying in the open field in rearof the cemetery. Occasionally a shell came over them from the Rebelbatteries, by Blocher's. It was their first experience under fire.They were in reserve, knowing nothing of what was going on the otherside of the hill, yet tantalized by a flank fire from the distantbatteries. A short distance farther I came to General Meade'shead-quarters, in the house of Mrs. Leister. General Meade was theresurrounded by his staff, consulting maps and issuing orders. GeneralHancock's head-quarters' flag,—the tree-foil of the SecondCorps,—was waving on the ridge southwest of the house. GeneralSlocum's,—the star-flag,—was in sight, on a conical hill a half-mileeastward. The crescent flag of the Eleventh was proudly planted on thehighest elevation of the cemetery. The Maltese cross of the FifthCorps was a half-mile south, toward Round-top.

Turning into the field and riding to the top of the ridge, I came uponHayes's division of the Second Corps, joining Robinson's of the First;then Gibbons's and Caldwell's of the Second, reaching to a narrowroadway running west from the Taneytown road to the house of AbrahamTrostle, where, a half-mile in advance of the main line, was plantedthe diamond(p. 276) flag of the Third Corps, General Sickles. Pushingdirectly west, through a field where the grass was ripening for thescythe, I approached the house of Mr. Codori, on the Emmettsburg road.But it was a dangerous place just then to a man on horseback, for thepickets of both armies were lying in the wheat-field west of the road.General Carr's brigade of the Third Corps was lying behind the ridgenear the house of Peter Rogers. Soldiers were filling their canteensfrom the brook in the hollow. Further down by the house of Mr. Wentz,at the corner of the narrow road leading east from the Emmettsburgroad, and in the peach-orchards on both sides of it, were troops andbatteries. The Second New Hampshire, the First Maine, and the ThirdMichigan were there, holding the angle of the line, which here turnedeast from the Emmettsburg road. Thompson's battery was behind Wentz'shouse. General Sickles had his other batteries in position along thenarrow road, the muzzles of the guns pointing southwest. Ames's NewYork battery was in the orchard, and the gunners were lying beneaththe peach-trees, enjoying the leafy shade. Clark's New Jersey battery,Phillips's Fifth Massachusetts, and Bigelow's Ninth Massachusetts wereon the left of Ames. Bigelow's was in front of Trostle's house, havingcomplete command and the full sweep of a beautiful slope beyond theroad for sixty rods.

The slope descends to a wooded ravine through which winds a brook,gurgling over a rocky bed. Beyond the brook are the stone farm-houseand capacious barn of John Rose, in whose door-yard were the Unionpickets, exchanging a shot now and then with the Rebels ofLongstreet's corps, south of Rose's, who were lying along theEmmettsburg road.

General Barnes's division of the Third Corps was in the woods south ofthe narrow road, and among the rocks in front of Weed's Hill.

Sickles had advanced to the position upon his own judgment of thefitness of the movement. He believed that it was necessary to hold theravine, down to Round-top, to prevent the enemy from passing throughthe gap between that eminence and Weed's Hill.

General Meade had called his corps commanders to his head-quarters(p. 277) for consultation. Sickles did not attend, deeming it of vitalimportance to prepare for the advance of the enemy, and his soldierswere levelling fences and removing obstructions.

A peremptory order reached Sickles requiring his presence. He rode tothe head-quarters of the army, but the conference was over, and hewent back to his command followed by General Meade.

"Are you not too much extended? Can you hold your front?" asked theCommander-in-Chief.

"Yes, only I shall want more troops."

"I will send you the Fifth Corps, and you may call on Hancock forsupport."

"I shall need more artillery."

"Send for all you want. Call on General Hunt of the Artillery Reserve.I will direct him to send you all you want."

The pickets were keeping up a lively fire.

"I think that the Rebels will soon make their appearance," saidSickles.

A moment later and the scattering fire became a volley. General Meadetook another look at the troops in position, and galloped back to hishead-quarters.

General Lee, in his report, has given an outline of his intentions, hesays:—

Lee had been all day perfecting his plans. He was riding along hislines at sunrise, reconnoitring Meade's position. His head-quarterswere near the Theological Seminary, where, at five o'clock in themorning, Lee, Hill, Longstreet, Hood, and Heth were engaged inconversation. The conference lasted till seven o'clock, whenLongstreet rode down to his corps to make arrangements for the attack.Hood had the extreme right, and McLaws stood next in line. Pickett,commanding his other division, had not arrived. It was to be held inreserve.[47]

(p. 279) Lee chose, as his first point of attack, the positionoccupied by Sickles. The ground by Wentz's house is higher than theridge, where Hancock had established his head-quarters. If he coulddrive Sickles from the peach-orchard by turning his left flank, andgain Weed's Hill, Meade would be compelled to retreat, and the natureof the ground was such in rear of the cemetery that a retreat might beturned into a complete rout. Meade's position was a very fair one fordefence, but one from which an army could not well retire before avictorious enemy. The trains in park along Rock Creek would have beenin the way. Baggage trains are exceedingly useful, but there are timeswhen commanders do not know what to do with them. A battery in thehands of the enemy, planted on the ridge, or in the cemetery, if thoseplaces had fallen into the hands of the Rebels, would have producedconfusion in Meade's rear among the teamsters, who are not always coolunder fire, especially if they have refractory mules to manage.General Meade would have chosen a position fifteen or twenty miles inrear, nearer to his base of supplies, and had he been at Gettysburg onWednesday evening, doubtless would have ordered a retreat. Thequestion, whether to fall back or to hold the position, was seriouslydebated. But Howard had made the stand. He believed that the positioncould be held, and Lee defeated there. He did not calculate for adefeat, but for victory. Had Meade fallen back, Lee would have beenwary of moving on. It was not his intention, he says, to fight ageneral battle so far from his base. He would have followedcautiously, if at all. Through(p. 280) the foresight, faith, andcourage of Howard, therefore, Gettysburg has become a turning-point inhistory. And yet, not that alone, for the warp and woof of history aremade up of innumerable threads. The Rebels, on that afternoon ofThursday, as they moved out from the woods into the fields south ofthe house of John Rose, had a thorough contempt for the troops inblue, standing beneath the peach-trees in Sherfy's orchard, and alongthe road towards Trostle's. Big Bethel, Bull Run, Richmond, Manassas,Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Cedar Mountain, Harper's Ferry theyremembered as victories; and even Antietam and South Mountain werecalled drawn battles by the Rebel commander-in-chief. They had alreadyachieved one victory on the soil of Pennsylvania. Five thousandYankees had been captured. The troops of the Confederacy wereinvincible, not only while fighting at their own doors, but asinvaders of the North. Such was the feeling of the soldiers. But theRebel officers were not quite so sanguine of success as the men. AnEnglishman, who saw the fight from the Rebel side, says:—

Gettysburg battlefield.

General Hill and General Lee had been observant of the "determinationunusual to the Yankees." The "pressure" brought upon Howard in thecemetery, at nightfall, was resisted by men who had suffered defeat,who had left a third of their comrades dead or wounded on the field,or as prisoners in the hands of the enemy. But the Rebelrank-and-file, remembering only the victories they had already won,did not for a moment doubt their ability to win another. They wereflushed with the enthusiasm of repeated successes.

On the other hand, the soldiers of the Union believed, with Howard,Hancock, Sickles, and other officers, that they could hold theposition against the assaults of Lee. It was not a calculation ofadvantages,—of the value of hills, ravines, fields, and meadows,—orof numbers, but a determination to win the day or to die on the spot.

Such were the feelings of the opposing parties on that sunnyafternoon, as they appeared in line of battle.

The Rebel forces moving to the attack south of Wentz's were whollyunder Longstreet's command. Anderson's division of Hill's corps wasjoined to McLaw's and Hood's, to form the attacking column. TheWashington Artillery of New Orleans was in the woods southwest ofWentz's house. Barksdale's Mississippians were behind artillery. A fewrods west of the same house, on a narrow road leading towardsHagerstown, is the residence of Mr. Warfield. A third of a mile northof Wentz's, on the Emmettsburg road, is the house of Philip Snyder.Between Warfield's and Snyder's, Longstreet planted fifty or sixtyguns to bear on the peach-orchard and the batteries which Sickles hadstationed along the road leading past Trostle's, and upon the woodseast of the house of Mr. Rose.

Longstreet's plan was to attack with all the vigor possible,—to(p. 282) bear down all opposition in the outset. Commanders frequentlybegin an engagement by feeling of the enemy's position,—advancing afew skirmishers, a regiment, or a brigade; but in this instanceLongstreet advanced all but his reserve.

It was half past three. Riding rapidly to the right to see if therewere signs of activity in that direction, dismounting in rear of theline, and tying my horse to a tree, I took a look northward. A mile tothe north Rebel officers were in view, galloping furiously over thefields, disappearing in groves, dashing down the road to the town, andagain returning. There was a battery in position beyond the railroad,and as I looked narrowly at an opening between two groves, I saw theglistening of bayonets, and a line as if a column of men were marchingeast toward the thick forest on Rock Creek. It was surmised that theywere to attack our right upon Culp's Hill by advancing directly downRock Creek through the woods. Prisoners captured said that Ewell hadsworn a terrible oath to turn our flank, if it took his last man. Toguard against such a movement, Slocum was throwing up breastworks fromthe crest of the hill down to Rock Creek. Two batteries were placed inposition on hillocks south of the turnpike, to throw shells up thecreek, should such an attempt be made. The Union Cavalry in long lineswas east of the creek, and the Reserve Artillery, in parks, withhorses harnessed, was in the open field south of Slocum'shead-quarters.

'As near as I can make out, the Rebels have got a line of batteries inthat piece of woods,' said an officer who had been looking steadilyacross the ravine to Blocher's Hill. Laying my glass upon thebreastwork, I could see the guns and the artillerymen beside theirpieces, as if ready to begin the action.

Suddenly there came the roar of a gun from the south. It wasLongstreet's signal. Another, another, and the fire ran from Snyder'sto the Seminary, then round to Blocher's Hill.

I was at the moment near the cemetery. There came a storm of shot andshell. Marble slabs were broken, iron fences shattered, horsesdisembowelled. The air was full of wild, hideous noises,—the low buzzof round shot, the whizzing of elongated bolts, and the stunningexplosions of shells, overhead and all around.

(p. 283) There was a quick response from the Union batteries. In threeminutes the earth shook with the tremendous concussion of two hundredpieces of artillery.

The missiles of the Rebels came from the northeast, north, northwest,west, and southwest. The position occupied by the Vermont nine months'men was one of great exposure, as the ground in rear of the cemeterywas the centre of a converging fire.

"Lie close," said General Stannard to the men. They obeyed him, but hewalked to the top of the ridge and watched the coming on of the stormin the southwest.

The Fifth Corps had not moved into position, but was resting after thesixteen miles' march from Hanover.

The Rebels of Longstreet's command first in sight come out from thewoods behind Warfield's house, a long line in the form of a crescent,reaching almost to Round-top. Ames's battery was the first to openupon them. Thompson, Clark, and Phillips began to thunder almostsimultaneously. Bigelow, from his position, could not get a sight atthem till two or three minutes later. The Third Michigan, Second NewHampshire, and Third Maine were the first regiments engaged. The fireran down the line towards Rose's house. The regiments in the woodsalong the ravine south of the house,—the Seventeenth Maine, ThirdMichigan, and others,—were soon in the fight. A portion of theSeventeenth Maine had been skirmishing all the morning.

Ward's brigade on the rocky ridge in front of Weed's Hill was assailedby Hood. How fearful the fight! Sickles's front line, after anobstinate struggle, was forced back. He was obliged to withdraw hisbatteries by Wentz's house. Bigelow retired firing by prolonge, overthe rocky ground. The contest in the peach-orchard and around Rose'shouse was exceedingly bloody. Sickles sent his aide forreinforcements: "I want batteries and men!" said he.

"I want you to hold on where you are until I can get a line ofbatteries in rear of you," said Colonel McGilvery, commanding theartillery of the Third Corps, to Bigelow. "Give them canister!" headded as he rode away. Bigelow's men never had been under fire, butthey held on till every charge(p. 284) of canister was spent, andthen commenced on spherical case. Bigelow was just west of Trostle'sbarn. A Rebel battery hastened up and unlimbered in the field. Heopened with all his guns, and they limbered up again. McGilvery'sbatteries were not in position, and the gallant captain and his bravemen would not leave. The Rebels rushed upon the guns, and were blownfrom the muzzles. Others came with demoniac yells, climbing upon thelimbers and shooting horses. Sergeant Dodge went down, killedinstantly; also Sergeant Gilson. Lipman, Ferris, and Nutting, three ofthe cannoneers, were gone, twenty-two of the men wounded, and Bigelowshot through the side; also four men missing, yet they held on tillMcGilvery had his batteries in position!

It was a heroic resistance. Gun after gun was abandoned to theadvancing Rebels. But the cannoneers were thoughtful to retain therammers, and though the Rebels seized the pieces they could not turnthem upon the slowly-retreating handful of men, who with two piecesstill growled defiance. Back to Trostle's door-yard, into the garden,halting by the barn, delivering a steady fire, they held the enemy atbay till the batteries of the Fifth Corps, a little east of Trostle's,and the arrival of reinforcements of infantry, permitted theirwithdrawal. More than sixty horses belonging to this one battery werekilled in this brief struggle at the commencement of the battle. Withthe seizure of each piece the Rebels cheered, and advanced withconfident expectation of driving Sickles over the ridge.

But new actors came. Barnes's division of the Fifth went down throughTrostle's garden and through the grove south of the house, crossed theroad, and entered the woods. The Rebels were in the ravine by Rose'shouse. Winslow's New York battery was in a wheat-field south ofTrostle's, holding them in check, while Hazlitt's battery on Weed'sHill rained a torrent of shells from its rocky fortress.

Ayer's division of Regulars, which had been lying east of Weed's Hill,moved upon the double-quick through the woods, up to the summit. Thewhole scene was before them: the turmoil and commotion in the woodsbelow,—Barnes going in and the shattered regiments of the Third Corpscoming out. Some batteries were in retreat and others were taking new(p. 285) positions. They dashed down the hillside, became a littledisorganized in crossing Plum Run, but formed again and went up theridge among the boulders, disappeared in the woods, stayed a fewminutes, and then, like a shattered wreck upon the foaming sea, camedrifting to the rear.

After the battle, an officer of the Seventeenth Regulars pointed outto me the line of advance.

"We went down the hill upon the run," said he. "It was like going downinto hell! The Rebels were yelling like devils. Our men were fallingback. It was terrible confusion: smoke, dust, the rattle of musketry,the roaring of cannon, the bursting of shells."

The Pennsylvania Reserves, under Crawford, went in. They were fightingon their own soil. Among them were soldiers whose homes were inGettysburg.

Sickles called upon Hancock for help. Caldwell's division went down,sweeping past Trostle's into the wheat-field, dashing through Barnes'smen, who were falling back. Regiments from three corps and from eightor ten brigades were fighting promiscuously. The Rebel lines were alsoin confusion,—advancing, retreating, gaining, and losing.

It was like the writhing of two wrestlers. Seventy thousand men werecontending for the mastery on a territory scarcely a mile square! Ithas been called the battle of Little Round-top, but most of thefighting at this point took place between Little Round-top on Weed'sHill and the house of Mr. Rose. But there was also a contest aroundand upon the hill.

The advance of Hood enveloped the Union force below. The men on Hood'sextreme right skirted the base of the hill, clambered over the rocksby the "Devil's Den,"—a rocky gorge,—and began to pour into the gapbetween Weed's and Round-top. Vincent's and Weed's brigades wereholding the hill. The Twentieth Maine, Colonel Chamberlain, was on theextreme left. The Eighty-Third Pennsylvania, Forty-Fourth New York,and Sixteenth Michigan were farther north. The Twentieth Maine stoodalmost alone. There began to be a dropping of bullets along the linefrom the Rebel skirmishers creeping into the gap, and ColonelChamberlain saw the enemy moving past his flank. He immediatelyextended his own left flank(p. 286) by forming his men in singlerank. The fight was fierce. The Rebels greatly outnumberedChamberlain, but he had the advantage of position. He was on the crestof the hill, and at every lull in the strife his men piled the loosestones into a rude breastwork. He sent for assistance, but before thearrival of reinforcements Hood's troops had gained the eastern side ofthe hill, and the Twentieth Maine stood in the form of the letter U,with Rebels in front, on their flank, and in rear.

It was nearly six o'clock. I was at Meade's head-quarters. The roar ofbattle was louder and grew nearer. Hill was threatening the centre. Acloud of dust could be seen down the Baltimore pike. Had Stuartsuddenly gained our rear? There were anxious countenances around thecottage where the flag of the Commander-in-Chief was flying. Officersgazed with their field-glasses. "It is not cavalry, but infantry,"said one. "There is the flag. It is the Sixth Corps."

We could see the advancing bayonets gleaming in the setting sun. Faceswhich a moment before were grave became cheerful. It was an inspiringsight. The troops of that corps had marched thirty-two miles duringthe day. They crossed Rock Creek, filed into the field, past theammunition train, threw themselves upon the ground, tossed aside theirknapsacks, and wiped the sweat from their sun-burnt cheeks.

"We want reinforcements. They are flanking us," said an officer,riding up to Meade. Word was sent to Slocum, and Williams's divisionof the Twelfth left their breastwork on Culp's Hill, came down uponthe double-quick, leaping the stone walls between Slocum'shead-quarters and the cemetery, and moved into the field west of theTaneytown road.

Stannard's brigade was attached to the First Corps, commanded byDoubleday. The Vermont boys had been lying on their faces through thelong, tormenting hours. They were ready for desperate work. Doubledaydashed down to General Stannard. There is a strong contrast betweenthese two officers. Doubleday is tall, broad-shouldered, a littlestooping. He was in Sumter with Anderson when the Rebels fired thefirst gun at the old flag. He is cool and courageous. Stannard isshort, straight, compactly built. He was a private citizen at St.Albans, Vermont, when the war began. He is a thoroughcitizen-soldier, as undaunted as his superior.

(p. 287) "You are wanted over there. Report to Hancock," saidDoubleday.

The men of Vermont sprang to their feet, and went up the ridge towardthe southwest upon the run. At the same time an officer rode down tothe Sixth Corps. I saw the tired and weary men rise from the groundand fall into line. They also moved off upon the run toward Weed'sHill, which was all aflame. Hazlitt was firing canister from the top.Nearly all the Third, Fifth, and Second Corps batteries were at work.The sun was just setting. Sickles had been forced back from thepeach-orchard, and from Rose's house, but he was still holdingTrostle's. The dark lines of the Sixth Corps became lost to sight, asthey moved into the woods crowning the hill. There were quickervolleys, a lighting up of the sky by sudden flashes, followed by acheer,—not the wild yell peculiar to the Rebels, but a sharp, clearhurrah, from the men who had held the hill. Longstreet was giving upthe struggle, and his men were falling back. Colonel Randall, withfive companies of the Thirteenth Vermont, led the advance of GeneralStannard's column. Hancock had been forced to leave the guns of one ofhis batteries on the field near Codori's house.

The Rebel sharpshooters were lying along the Emmettsburg road, pouringin a deadly fire, under cover of which a large body of Rebels wasadvancing to take possession of the pieces.

"Can you retake that battery?" was Hancock's question to Randall.

"We'll do it or die, sir!"

"Then go in."

"Forward!" said Randall, turning in his saddle and waving his sword.His men gave a cheer, and broke into a run. The Colonel's horse fell,shot through the shoulder, but the Colonel dashed ahead on foot. Theyreached the guns, drew them to the rear. The Rebels came on with arush. But help was at hand,—the Fourteenth Maine joined theVermonters. Leaving the guns the soldiers faced about, charged uponthe Rebels, captured eighty-three prisoners, and two Rebel cannon, andthen returned! Long and loud were the cheers that greeted them.

"You must be green, or you wouldn't have gone down(p. 288) there,"said a Pennsylvanian, who had been in a dozen battles. The blood ofthe Vermont boys was up, and they had not calculated the consequencesof such a movement.

So closed the day on the left. But just as the contest was coming toan end around Weed's Hill, it suddenly commenced on the north side ofthe cemetery. Hayes's brigade of Louisiana Tigers, and Hoke's NorthCarolinians, belonging to Early's division of Ewell's corps, had beencreeping across Spangler's farm, up the northern slope of the cemeteryhill. Suddenly, with a shout they sprang upon Barlow's division,commanded by Amos. It was a short, fierce, but decisive contest. Theattack was sudden, but the men of Ames's command were fully prepared.There was a struggle over the guns of two Pennsylvania batteries. TheFifth Maine battery was in an exceedingly favorable position, at anangle of the earthworks, east of the hill, and cut down the Rebelswith a destructive enfilading fire. The struggle lasted scarcely fiveminutes,—the Rebels retreating in confusion to the town.

When Slocum went with Williams to the left there were no indicationsof an attack on Culp's Hill, but unexpectedly Ewell made hisappearance in the woods along Rock Creek. General Green, who had beenleft in command, extended his line east and made a gallant fight, butnot having men enough to occupy all the ground, Ewell was able to takepossession of the hollow along the Creek. When Williams returned, hefound his entrenchments in possession of the enemy. The men of theTwelfth threw themselves on the ground in the fields on both sides ofthe Baltimore pike, for rest till daybreak.

"We are doing well," was Longstreet's report to Lee at seven o'clockin the evening, from the left.[49] Ewell himself rode down through thetown, to report his success on the right.

At a later hour Longstreet reported that he had carried everythingbefore him for some time, capturing several batteries, and driving theYankees; but when Hill's Florida brigade and some other troops gaveway, he was forced to abandon a small portion of the ground he hadwon, together with all the captured guns except three.

(p. 289) It was late in the evening when I threw myself upon a pile ofstraw in an old farm-house, near the Baltimore pike, for a few hours'rest, expecting that with the early morning there would be a renewalof the battle.

There was the constant rumble of artillery moving into position, ofammunition and supply wagons going up to the troops. Lights weregleaming in the hollows, beneath the shade of oaks and pines, wherethe surgeons were at work, and where, through the dreary hourswailings and moanings rent the air; yet though within musket-shot ofthe enemy, and surrounded with dying and dead, I found refreshingsleep.

THIRD DAY.

Friday, July 3.

Boom! boom! Two guns, deep and heavy, at four o'clock. It was a sultrymorning. The clouds hung low upon the hills. Two more! and then morerapidly than the tick of a pendulum came the concussions. There wereflashes from all the hills,—flashes in the woods along Rock Creek.The cemetery was aflame. The door which had been opened against Slocumwas to be closed, and this was the beginning of the effort.

The cannonade broke the stillness of the morning, and drowned allother sounds. Riding up the turnpike to the batteries, I had a goodview of the battle-ground. General Sickles was being carried to therear on a stretcher. He had suffered amputation. Following him was alarge number of prisoners, taken in the fight upon the left. Some werehaggard and care-worn,—others indifferent, or sulky, and some veryjolly. "I have got into the Union after hard fighting," said one, "andI intend to stay there."

There were a few musket-shots in the woods upon the hill, from thepickets in advance. Slocum was preparing to regain what had been lost.It was seven o'clock before he was ready to move. The men movedslowly, but determinedly. The Rebels were in the rifle-pits, andopened a furious fire. A thin veil of smoke rose above the trees, andfloated away before the morning breeze. Rapid the fire ofmusketry,—terrific the cannonade. Ewell was determined not to bedriven back. He held on with dogged pertinacity. He had swornprofanely to(p. 290) hold the position, but in vain his effort. Therifle-pits were regained, and he was driven, inch by inch, up RockCreek.

It took four hours to do it, however. Ewell, well knowing theimportance of holding the position, brought in all of his availableforce. Johnson's, Rhodes's, and Early's divisions, all were engaged.To meet these General Shaler's brigade of the Sixth Corps was broughtup to Culp's Hill, while Neil's brigade of the same corps was thrownin upon Early's flank east of Rock Creek, and the work wasaccomplished. The men fought from behind trees and rocks, with greattenacity. It was the last attempt of Lee upon Meade's right.

Gregg's and Kilpatrick's divisions of cavalry were east of Rock Creek.An orderly came dashing down the Hanover road.

"Stuart is coming round on our right!" said he. "General Pleasantonsends his compliments to General Gregg, desiring him to go outimmediately and hold Stuart in check. His compliments also to GeneralKilpatrick, desiring him to go down beyond Round-top, and pitch inwith all his might on Longstreet's left."

I was conversing with the two officers at the time.

"Good! come on, boys!" shouted Kilpatrick, rubbing his hands withpleasure. The notes of the bugle rang loud and clear above the rumbleof the passing army wagons, and Kilpatrick's column swept down thehill, crossed the creek, and disappeared beyond Round-top. A half-hourlater I saw the smoke of his artillery, and heard the wild shout ofhis men as they dashed recklessly upon the Rebel lines. It was thecharge in which General Farnsworth and a score of gallant officersgave up their lives.

General Gregg's division formed in the fields east of Wolf Hill.Stuart had already extended his line along the Bonnoughtown road.There was a brisk cannonade between the light batteries, and Stuartretired, without attempting to cut out the ammunition trains parkedalong the pike.

Through the forenoon it was evident that Lee was preparing for anotherattack. He had reconnoitred the ground with Longstreet in the morning,and decided to assault Meade's line between the cemetery and Weed'sHill with a strong force.(p. 291) He could form the attacking columnout of sight, in the woods west of Codori's house. In advancing thetroops would be sheltered till they reached the Emmettsburg road.Howard's guns in the cemetery would trouble them most by enfiladingthe lines. Howard must be silenced by a concentrated artillery fire.The cemetery could be seen from every part of the line occupied by theRebels, and all the available batteries were brought into position toplay upon it, and upon the position occupied by the Second Corps.

The arrangements were intrusted to Longstreet. He selected Pickett's,Pender's, Heth's, and Anderson's divisions. Pickett's were freshtroops. Heth had been wounded, and Pettigrew was in command of thedivision. Wilcox's and Perry's brigades of Anderson's division had theright of the first Rebel line. Pickett's division occupied the centreof the first line, followed by Pender's. Heth's division, followed byWright's brigade of Anderson's, had the left of the line.

Wilcox and Perry's line of advance was past Klingel's house. Pickett'sright swept across the Emmettsburg road by the house of Peter Rogers;his left reached to Codori's, where it joined Pettigrew's. Rhodes'sdivision of Ewell's corps was brought down from the woods by Smucker'shouse, and put in position south of the town, to support Pettigrew'sleft. The attacking column numbered from twenty to twenty-fivethousand men, but the force in support gave nearly thirty-fivethousand men which Longstreet had in hand.

The movements of the Rebels, as seen from the Union lines, indicatedan attack upon our extreme left. The Fifth, Third, and Sixth Corpstherefore were placed well down toward Round-top.

Commencing at the Taneytown road and walking south, we have thefollowing disposition of the troops resisting this attack. Robinson'sdivision of the First Corps, reaching from the road along an oakgrove, past a small house occupied by a colored man. Hays's divisionlay behind a stone wall, and a small grove of shrub-oaks. Gibbon hadno protection except a few rails gathered from the fences. There arethree oak-trees which mark the spot occupied by Hall's brigade.Harrow's was just beyond it, south. In front of Harrow's, six oreight(p. 292) rods, were three regiments of Stannard's Vermontbrigade,—the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Sixteenth,—lying in ashallow trench. Caldwell's division extended from Gibbon's to thenarrow road leading past Trostle's house. The ridge in rear of thetroops bristled with artillery. The infantry line was thin, but theartillery was compact and powerful.

Longstreet having made his disposition for the attack, and the Rebelartillery not being ready, threw himself on the ground and went tosleep.[50]

Lee reconnoitred the position from the cupola of the college, overwhich the Confederate hospital-flag was flying,—thus violating whathas been deemed even by half-civilized races a principle of honor.

Visiting General Meade's head-quarters in the house of Mrs. Leister,in the forenoon, I saw the Commander-in-chief seated at a table with amap of Gettysburg spread out before him. General Warren, chiefengineer, was by his side. General Williams, his Adjutant-General, whoknew the strength of every regiment, was sitting on the bed, ready toanswer any question. General Hunt, chief of artillery, was lying onthe grass beneath a peach-tree in the yard. General Pleasanton, chiefof the cavalry, neat and trim in dress and person, with a riding-whiptucked into his cavalry boots, was walking uneasily about. Aids werecoming and going; a signal-officer in the yard was waving his flags inresponse to one on Round-top.

"Signal-officer on Round-top reports Rebels moving towards our left,"said the officer to General Meade.

It was five minutes past one when the signal-gun for the opening ofthe battle was given by the Rebels on Seminary Hill. Instantly thewhole line of Rebel batteries, an hundred and fifty guns, joined inthe cannonade. All of the guns northeast, north, and northwest of thetown concentrated their fire upon the cemetery. Those west andsouthwest opened on Hancock's position. Solid shot and shells pouredincessantly upon the cemetery and along the ridge. The intention ofLee was soon understood,—to silence Howard's batteries because theyenfiladed the attacking force ready to move over(p. 293) the fieldstoward the centre, our weakest point. If they could give to the livingwho held the burial-place a quiet as profound as that of the sleepersbeneath the ground, then they might hope to break through the thinline of men composing the Second Corps.

But Howard was not a man to be kept quiet at such a time withoutespecial cause. His horses were knocked to pieces, the tombstonesshivered, iron railings torn, shrubs and trees cut down, here andthere men killed, but his batteries were not silenced.

Mr. Wilkenson of the New YorkTribune, who was at General Meade'shead-quarters when the fire was severest, thus describes the scene:—

"In the shadow cast by the tiny farm-house, sixteen by twenty, which General Meade had made his head-quarters, lay wearied staff officers and tired correspondents. There was not wanting to the peacefulness of the scene the singing of a bird, which had a nest in a peach-tree within the tiny yard of the whitewashed cottage. In the midst of its warbling a shell screamed over the house, instantly followed by another, and another, and in a moment the air was full of the most complete artillery-prelude to an infantry battle that was ever exhibited. Every size and form of shell known to British and to American gunnery shrieked, whirled, moaned, and whistled, and wrathfully fluttered over our ground. As many as six in a second, constantly two in a second, bursting and screaming over and around the head-quarters, made a very hell of fire that amazed the oldest officers. They burst in the yard,—burst next to the fence on both sides, garnished as usual with the hitched horses of aides and orderlies. The fastened animals reared and plunged with terror. Then one fell, then another,—sixteen lay dead and mangled before the fire ceased, still fastened by their halters, which gave the expression of being wickedly tied up to die painfully. These brute victims of a cruel war touched all hearts. Through the midst of the storm of screaming and exploding shells an ambulance, driven by its frenzied conductor at full speed, presented to all of us the marvellous spectacle of a horse going rapidly on three legs. A hinder one had been shot off at the hock. A shell tore up the little step at the head-quarters cottage, and ripped bags of oats as with a knife. Another soon carried off one of its two pillars. Soon a spherical case burst opposite the open door,—another ripped through the low garret. The remaining pillar went almost immediately to the howl of a fixed shot that Whitworth must have made. During this fire, the horses at(p. 294) twenty and thirty feet distant were receiving their death, and soldiers in Federal blue were torn to pieces in the road, and died with the peculiar yells that blend the extorted cry of pain with horror and despair. Not an orderly, not an ambulance, not a straggler was to be seen upon the plain swept by this tempest of orchestral death, thirty minutes after it commenced. Were not one hundred and twenty pieces of artillery trying to cut from the field every battery we had in position to resist their purposed infantry attack, and to sweep away the slight defences behind which our infantry were waiting? Forty minutes,—fifty minutes,—counted watches that ran, O so languidly! Shells through the two lower rooms. A shell into the chimney, that daringly did not explode. Shells in the yard. The air thicker, and fuller, and more deafening with the howling and whirring of these infernal missiles. The Chief of Staff struck,—Seth Williams,—loved and respected through the army, separated from instant death by two inches of space vertically measured. An aide bored with a fragment of iron through the bone of the arm. And the time measured on the sluggish watches was one hour and forty minutes."

A soldier was lying on the ground a few rods distant from where I wassitting. There was a shriek, such as I hope never again to hear, andhis body was whirling in the air, a mangled mass of flesh, blood, andbones!

A shell exploding in the cemetery, killed and wounded twenty-seven menin one regiment![51] and yet the troops, lying under thefences,—stimulated and encouraged by General Howard, who walkedcoolly along the line,—kept their places and awaited the attack.

It was half past two o'clock.

"We will let them think that they have silenced us," said GeneralHoward to Major Osborne. The artillerists threw themselves upon theground beside their pieces.

Suddenly there was a shout,—"Here they come!"

Every man was on the alert. The cannoneers sprang to their feet. Thelong lines emerged from the woods, and moved rapidly but steadily overthe fields, towards the Emmettsburg road.

Howard's batteries burst into flame, throwing shells with the utmostrapidity. There are gaps in the Rebel ranks, but onward(p. 295) stillthey come. They reach the Emmettsburg road. Pickett's division appearsby Klingel's house. All of Howard's guns are at work now. Pickettturns to the right, moving north, driven in part by the fire rollingin upon his flank from Weed's Hill, and from the Third, Fifth, andSixth Corps batteries. Suddenly he faces east, descends the gentleslope from the road behind Codori's, crosses the meadow, comes inreach of the muskets of the Vermonters. The three regiments rise fromtheir shallow trench. The men beneath the oak-trees leap from theirlow breastwork of rails. There is a ripple, a roll, a deafening roar.Yet the momentum of the Rebel column carries it on. It is becomingthinner and weaker, but they still advance.

The Second Corps is like a thin blue ribbon. Will it withstand theshock? "Give them canister! Pour it into them!" shouts Major CharlesHoward, running from battery to battery. The Rebel line is almost upto the grove in front of Robinson's. It has reached the clump ofshrub-oaks. It has drifted past the Vermont boys. Onward still. "Breaktheir third line! Smash their supports!" cries General Howard, andOsborne and Wainwright send the fire of fifty guns into the column,each piece fired three times a minute! The cemetery is lost toview,—covered with sulphurous clouds, flaming and smoking andthundering like Sinai on the great day of the Lord! The front line ofRebels is melting away,—the second is advancing to take its place;but beyond the first and second is the third, which reels, breaks, andflies to the woods from whence it came, unable to withstand the storm.

Hancock is wounded, and Gibbon is in command of the Second Corps."Hold your fire, boys; they are not near enough yet," says Gibbon, asPickett comes on. The first volley staggers, but does not stop them.They move upon the run,—up to the breastwork of rails,—bearingHancock's line to the top of the ridge,—so powerful their momentum.

Men fire into each other's faces, not five feet apart. There arebayonet-thrusts, sabre-strokes, pistol-shots; cool, deliberatemovements on the part of some,—hot, passionate, desperate effortswith others; hand-to-hand contests; recklessness of life; tenacity ofpurpose; fiery determination; oaths, yells, curses,(p. 296) hurrahs,shoutings; men going down on their hands and knees, spinning roundlike tops, throwing out their arms, gulping up blood, falling;legless, armless, headless. There are ghastly heaps of dead men.Seconds are centuries; minutes, ages; but the thin line does notbreak!

The Rebels have swept past the Vermont regiments. "Take them inflank," says General Stannard.

The Thirteenth and Sixteenth swing out from the trench, turn a rightangle to the main line, and face the north. They move forward a fewsteps, pour a deadly volley into the backs of Kemper's troops. With ahurrah they rush on, to drive home the bayonet. The Fifteenth,Nineteenth, Twentieth Massachusetts, and Seventh Michigan, TwentiethNew York, Nineteenth Maine, One Hundred Fifty-First Pennsylvania, andother regiments catch the enthusiasm of the moment, and close upon thefoe.

The Rebel column has lost its power. The lines waver. The soldiers ofthe front rank look round for their supports. They are gone,—fleeingover the field, broken, shattered, thrown into confusion by theremorseless fire from the cemetery and from the cannon on the ridge.The lines have disappeared like a straw in a candle's flame. Theground is thick with dead, and the wounded are like the witheredleaves of autumn. Thousands of Rebels throw down their arms and givethemselves up as prisoners.

How inspiring the moment! How thrilling the hour! It is the high-watermark of the Rebellion,—a turning-point of history and of humandestiny!

Treason had wielded its mightiest blow. From that time the Rebellionbegan to wane. An account of the battle, written on the following day,and published on the 6th of July in the BostonJournal, contains thefollowing passage:—

"With a hurrah they rush on!"

I rode along the lines, and beheld the field by the light of thegleaming stars. The dead were everywhere thickly strown. How changedthe cemetery! Three days before, its gravelled walks were smooth andclean; flowers were in bloom; birds carolled their songs amid thetrees; the monuments were undefaced; the marble slabs pure and white.Now there were broken wheels and splintered caissons; dead horses,shot in the neck, in the head, through the body, disembowelled byexploding shells, legs broken, flesh mangled and torn; pools of blood,scarlet stains on the headstones, green grass changed to crimson;marble slabs shivered; the ground ploughed by solid shot, holes blownout by bursting shells; dead men lying where they had fallen, woundedmen creeping to the rear; cries and groans all around me! Fifty shellsa minute had fallen upon that small enclosure. Not for a moment wasthere thought of abandoning the position. How those batteries ofOsborne and Wainwright, of the Eleventh and First Corps, had lightenedand thundered! There were scores of dead by the small house where theleft of the Rebel line advanced, lying just as they were smitten down,as if a thunderbolt had fallen upon the once living mass!

An English officer, who saw the battle from the Rebel lines, thus saysof the repulse:—

It was past eleven o'clock in the evening when I rode up from the goryfield, over the ridge, where the Second Corps had stood like a wall ofadamant. Meade's head-quarters were in a grove, east of the smallhouse where he established himself at the beginning of the battle. Thefire had been too hot at Mrs. Leister's. Meade was sitting on a greatflat boulder,(p. 299) listening to the reports of his officers,brought in by couriers. It was a scene which lives in memory: a darkforest,—the evening breeze gently rustling the green leaves over ourheads,—the katydids and locusts singing cheerily,—the bivouac firesglimmering on the ground, revealing the surrounding objects,—thegnarled trees, torn by cannon-shot,—the mossy stones,—the group ofofficers,—Williams, Warren, Howard (his right sleeve wanting an arm),Pleasanton, as trim as in the morning; Meade stooping, weary, hisslouched hat laid aside, so that the breeze might fan his brow.

"Bully! bully! bully all round!" said he; and then turning to hischief of staff, Humphrey, said, "Order up rations and ammunition."

To General Hunt, chief of artillery, "Have your limbers filled. Leemay be up to something in the morning, and we must be ready for him."

A band came up and played "Hail to the Chief!" the "Star-spangledBanner," and "Yankee Doodle." Soul-stirring the strains. The soldiers,lying on their arms, where they had fought, heard it, and respondedwith a cheer. Not all: for thousands were deaf and inanimate evermore.

No accurate statement of the number engaged in this great, decisivebattle of the war can ever be given. Meade's march to Gettysburg wasmade with great rapidity. The Provost Marshal of the army, GeneralPatrick, committed the great error of having no rear guard to bring upthe stragglers, which were left behind in thousands, and who found itmuch more convenient to live on the excellent fare furnished by thefarmers than to face the enemy. Meade's entire force on the fieldnumbered probably from sixty to seventy thousand. The Rebel army hadmade slower marches, and the soldiers could not straggle; they were inan enemy's country. Lee, therefore, had fuller ranks than Meade. Hisforce may be estimated at ninety thousand men.

The people of the North expressed their gratitude to the heroes whohad won this battle, by pouring out their contributions for the reliefof the wounded. The agents of the Christian and Sanitary Commissionswere quickly on the ground, and hundreds of warm-hearted men andwomen hastened to(p. 300) the spot to render aid. The morning afterthe battle I saw a stout Pennsylvania farmer driving his two-horsefarm wagon up the Baltimore pike, loaded down with loaves of softbread which his wife and daughters had baked.

Tender and affecting are some of the incidents of the battle-field. Adelegate of the Christian Commission passing among the wounded, cameto an officer from South Carolina.

"Can I do anything for you?" he asked.

"No!" was the surly reply.

He passed on, but upon his return repeated the question, and receivedthe same answer. The day was hot, the air offensive, from putrefyingwounds, and the delegate was putting cologne on the handkerchiefs ofthe patients.

"Colonel, let me put some of this on your handkerchief."

The wounded man burst into tears. "I have no handkerchief."

"Well, you shall have one"; and wetting his own gave it to him.

"I can't understand you Yankees," said the Colonel. "You fight us likedevils, and then you treat us like angels. I am sorry I entered thiswar."[53]

Said another Rebel,—an Irishman,—to a chaplain who took care of him,"May every hair of your head be a wax-taper to light you on your wayto glory!"[54]

A chaplain passing through the hospital, came to a cot where lay ayoung wounded soldier who had fought for the Union.

"Poor fellow!" said the chaplain.

"Don't call me 'poor fellow!'" was the indignant reply.

"Dear fellow, then. Have you written to your mother since the battle?"

"No, sir!"

"You ought to. Here it is the tenth,—a whole week since the battle.She will be anxious to hear from you."

The lad with his left hand threw aside the sheet which covered him,and the chaplain saw that his right arm was off near the shoulder.

"That is the reason, sir, that I have not written. I have(p. 301)not forgotten her, sir. I have prayed for her, and I thank God forgiving me so dear a mother."

Then turning aside the sheet farther, the chaplain saw that his leftleg was gone. Sitting down beside the young hero the chaplain wrote ashe dictated.

"Tell mother that I have given my right arm and my left leg to mycountry, and that I am ready to give both of my other limbs!" saidhe.[55]

The courage and patriotism of Spartan mothers is immortalized in storyand song. "Return with your shield, or upon it," has been held up foradmiration through three thousand years. The Greek fire is notextinguished; it burns to-day as bright and pure as ever at Salamis orMarathon.

Riding in the cars through the State of New York after the battle ofGettysburg, I fell in conversation with a middle-aged woman who hadtwo sons in the army.

"Have they been in battle?" I asked.

"Yes, sir; one has been in fifteen battles. He was taken prisoner atChancellorsville and was wounded at Gettysburg. The other is in theMedical Department."

"The one who was wounded at Gettysburg must have seen some hardfighting."

"Yes, sir; and I hear a good account of him from his captain. He saysmy son behaves well.I told him, when he went away, that I wouldrather hear he was dead than that he had disgraced himself."

"His time must be nearly out."

"Yes, sir, it is; but he is going to see it through, and hasre-enlisted. I should like to have him at home, but I know he would beuneasy. His comrades have re-enlisted, and he is not the boy to backout. I rather want him to help give the crushing blow."

There were thousands of such mothers in the land.

Lee retreated the morning after the battle. His reasons for aretrograde movement are thus stated by himself:—

"Owing to the strength of the enemy's position and the reduction of our ammunition, a renewal of the engagement could not be hazarded.(p. 302) and the difficulty of procuring supplies rendered it impossible to continue longer where we were. Such of the wounded as were in condition to be removed, and part of the arms collected on the field, were ordered to Williamsport. The army remained at Gettysburg during the 4th, and at night began to retire by the road to Fairfield, carrying with it about four thousand prisoners. Nearly two thousand had previously been paroled, but the enemy's numerous wounded, that had fallen into our hands after the first and second day's engagements, were left behind."[56]

Meade made no attempt to follow him with his main army, but marcheddirectly down the Emmettsburg road, once more to Frederick, then westover South Mountain to intercept him on the Potomac. Meade had theinside of the chess-board. He was a victor. The men who had made aforced march to Gettysburg were awake to the exigency of the hour, andmade a quick march back to Frederick, and over the mountains toBoonsboro'. A severe storm set in, and the roads were almostimpassable, but the men toiled on through the mire, lifting thecannon-wheels from the deep ruts, when the horses were unable to dragthe ordnance, singing songs as they marched foot-sore and weary, butbuoyant over the great victory.

And now, as the intelligence came that Grant had taken Vicksburg, thatBanks was in possession of Port Hudson, and that the Mississippi wasflowing "unvexed to the sea," they forgot all their toils, hardships,and sufferings, and made the air ring with their lusty cheers. Theycould see the dawn of peace,—peace won by the sword. The women ofMaryland hailed them as their deliverers, brought out the best storesfrom their pantries and gave freely, refusing compensation.

Meade left all his superfluous baggage behind, and moved in lightmarching order. Lee was encumbered by his wounded, and by his trains,and when he reached Hagerstown found that Meade was descending themountain side, and that Gregg was already in Boonsboro'.

Reinforcements were sent to Meade from Washington, with theexpectation that by concentration of all available forces, Lee's armymight be wholly destroyed. The elements, which had often retardedoperations of the Union troops,—which had(p. 303) renderedBurnside's and Hooker's movements abortive in several instances, nowwere propitious. The Potomac was rising, and the rain was stillfalling. On the morning of the 13th I rode to General Meade'shead-quarters. General Seth Williams, the ever-courteousAdjutant-General of the army, was in General Meade's tent. He saidthat Meade was taking a look at the Rebels.

"Do you think that Lee can get across the Potomac?" I asked.

"Impossible! The people resident here say that it cannot be forded atthis stage of the water. He has no pontoons. We have got him in atight place. We shall have reinforcements to-morrow, and a greatbattle will be fought. Lee is encumbered with his teams, and he isshort of ammunition."

General Meade came in dripping with rain, from a reconnoissance. Hiscountenance was unusually animated. He had ever been courteous to me,and while usually very reticent of all his intentions or of what wasgoing on, as an officer should be, yet in this instance he broke overhis habitual silence, and said, "We shall have a great battleto-morrow. The reinforcements are coming up, and as soon as they comewe shall pitch in."

I rode along the lines with Howard in the afternoon. The Rebels werein sight. The pickets were firing at each other. There was somemovement of columns.

"I fear that Lee is getting away," said Howard.

He sent an aide to Meade, with a request that he might attack.

"I can double them up," he said, meaning that, as he was on Lee'sflank, he could strike an effective blow.

Kilpatrick was beyond Howard, well up towards Williamsport. "Lee isgetting across the river, I think," said through a messenger.

It was nearly night. The attack was to be made early in the morning.

The morning dawned and Lee was south of the Potomac. That officersays:—

Kilpatrick was astir at daybreak; he moved into Williamsport. Iaccompanied his column. The Rebels were on the Virginia hills,jubilant at their escape. There were wagons in the river, floatingdown with the current, which had been capsized in the crossing.Kilpatrick pushed on to Falling Waters, fell upon Pettigrew's brigade,guarding the pontoons, captured two cannon and eight hundred men, inone of the most daring(p. 305) dashes of the war. It was poorsatisfaction, however, when contrasted with what might have been done.The army was chagrined. Loud were the denunciations of Meade.

"Another campaign on the Rappahannock, boys," said one officer in myhearing.

"We shall be in our old quarters in a few days," said another.

General Meade has been severely censured for not attacking on the13th. Lee had lost thirty thousand men. He had suffered a crushingdefeat at Gettysburg. Enthusiasm had died out. His soldiers were lessconfident than they had been. His ammunition was nearly exhausted. Hewas in a critical situation.

Those were reasons why he should be attacked; but there were alsoreasons, which to Meade were conclusive, that the attack should not bemade till the 14th: the swollen river,—the belief that Lee had nomeans of crossing the Potomac,—and the expected reinforcements. Thedelay was not from lack of spirit or over caution; but with theexpectation of striking a blow which would destroy the Rebel army.

Lee went up the valley, while Meade pushed rapidly down the base ofthe Blue Ridge to Culpepper. But he was not in condition to take theoffensive, so far from his base; and the two armies sat down upon thebanks of the Rapidan, to rest after the bloody campaign.

Regiment at dinner.

(p. 306) CHAPTER XIX.
FROM THE RAPIDAN TO COLD HARBOR.

There are few months in the calendar of centuries that will have amore conspicuous place in history than the month of May, 1864. It willbe remembered on account of the momentous events which took place inone of the greatest military campaigns of history. We are amazed, notby its magnitude merely, for there have been larger armies, heaviertrains of artillery, greater preparations, in European warfare,—butby a succession of events unparalleled for rapidity. We cannot fullycomprehend the amount of endurance, the persistency, the hardmarching, the harder fighting, the unwearied, cheerful energy andeffort which carried the Army of the Potomac from the Rappahannock tothe James in forty days, against the stubborn opposition of an army ofalmost equal numbers. There was not a day of rest,—scarcely an hourof quiet. Morning, noon, and midnight, the booming of cannon and therattling of musketry echoed unceasingly through the Wilderness, aroundthe hillocks of Spottsylvania, along the banks of the North Anna, andamong the groves of Bethesda Church and Cold Harbor.

There were individual acts of valor, as heroic and soul-stirring asthose of the old Cavaliers renowned in story and song, where all theenergies of life were centred in one moment. There was the spiritedadvance of regiments, the onset of brigades, and the resistlesscharges of divisions,—scenes which stir the blood and fire the soul;the hardihood, the endurance, the cool, collected, reserved force,abiding the time, the calm facing of death; the swift advance, therush, the plunge into the thickest of the fight, where hundreds ofcannon, where fifty thousand muskets, filled the air with iron hailand leaden rain.

The army wintered between the Rappahannock and the Rapidan. There hadbeen a reduction and reconstruction of its corps,—an incorporationof the First and Third with the(p. 307) Fifth and Sixth, withreinforcements added to the Second. The Second was commanded byMajor-General Hancock, the Fifth by Major-General Warren, the Sixth byMajor-General Sedgwick.

These three corps, with three divisions of cavalry commanded byGeneral Sheridan, composed the Army of the Potomac, commanded byMajor-General Meade. The Ninth Corps, commanded by Major-GeneralBurnside, was added when the army took up its line of march.

Lee was behind Mine Run, with his head-quarters at Orange Court-House,covering the advance to Richmond from that direction.

There was concentration everywhere. General Gillmore, with what troopscould be spared from the Department of the South, joined his forces tothose on the Peninsula and at Suffolk under General Butler; Sigelcommanded several thousand in the Shenandoah; Crook and Averell had asmall army in Western Virginia; at Chattanooga, under Sherman andThomas, was gathered a large army of Western troops; while Banks wasup the Red River, moving towards Shreveport.

Thedramatis personæ were known to the public, but the part assignedto each was kept profoundly secret. There was discussion andspeculation whether Burnside, from his encampment at Annapolis, wouldsuddenly take transports and go to Wilmington, or up the Rappahannock,or the James, or the York. Would Meade move directly across theRapidan and attack Lee in front, with every passage, every hill andravine enfiladed by Rebel cannon? Or would he move his right flankalong the Blue Ridge, crowding Lee to the seaboard? Would he not make,rather, a sudden change of base to Fredericksburg? None of the wisemen, military or civil, in their speculations, indicated the linewhich General Grant adopted. The public accepted the disaster atChancellorsville and the failure at Mine Run as conclusive evidencethat a successful advance across the Rapidan by the middle fords wasimpossible, or at least improbable. So well was the secret kept, that,aside from the corps commanders, none in or out of the army, exceptthe President and Secretary of War, had information of the line ofmarch intended.

(p. 308) General Grant had a grand plan,—not merely for the Army ofthe Potomac, but for all of the armies in the Union service.

Banks was to take Shreveport, then sail rapidly down the Mississippiand move upon Mobile, accompanied by the naval force under Farragut.Sherman was to push Johnston from his position near Chattanooga. IfBanks succeeded at Mobile, he was to move up to Montgomery andco-operate with Sherman. Such a movement would compel the RebelGeneral Johnston to retire from Atlanta. It would sever Alabama andMississippi from the other States of the Confederacy.

Butler was to move up the James and seize Richmond, or cut therailroads south of the Appomattox. Sigel was to pass up theShenandoah, while the troops in Western Virginia were to sever therailroad leading to East Tennessee.

The Army of the Potomac was to move upon Richmond,—or rather uponLee's army. The policy of General Grant—the idea upon which he openedand conducted the campaign—must be fully comprehended before theevents can be clearly understood.

That idea is thus expressed in General Grant's official report:—

The Army of the Potomac had no easy task to perform. Lee had theadvantage of position. The Rapidan was his line. He had improved hisold earthworks and thrown up new ones. His cannon covered the fords.His army was as large as when he invaded Pennsylvania. Grant mustcross the Rapidan at some point. To attempt and fail would bedisastrous. It was easy to say, Push on! but it was far different tomeet the storm of leaden hail,—far different to see a line waver,break, and scatter to the rear, with utter loss of heart. Those werecontingencies and possibilities to be taken into account.

It was no light affair to supply an army of one hundred and fiftythousand men, over a single line of railway,—to accumulate suppliesin advance of the movement,—to cut loose from his base of operations,and open a new base as occasion should call. Every mile of advanceincreased Grant's difficulty, while every mile of retrograde movementcarried Lee nearer to his base of operations.

All the speculations in regard to Burnside's destination fell to theground when, on the 25th of April, the Ninth Corps passed throughWashington, and moved into Virginia. It was a sublime spectacle. TheNinth Corps achieved almost the first successes of the war in NorthCarolina. It had hastened to the Potomac in time to aid in rescuingthe capital when Lee made his first Northern invasion. It won glory atSouth Mountain, and made the narrow bridge of Antietam foreverhistoric. It had readied Kentucky in season to aid in driving theRebels from that State, and now, with recruited ranks,—with newregiments of as good blood as ever was poured out in the cause(p. 310) of right, with a new element which was to make for itself aname never again to be despised, the corps was marching through thecapital of the nation, passing in review before Abraham Lincoln. Thecorps marched down Fourteenth Street past Willard's Hotel, where uponthe balcony stood the President and General Burnside. Behold thescene! Platoons, companies, battalions, regiments, brigades, anddivisions. The men are bronzed by the rays of a Southern sun, and bythe March winds. The bright sunshine gleams from their bayonets; abovethem wave their standards, tattered by the winds, torn by cannon-balland rifle-shot,—stained with the blood of dying heroes. They arepriceless treasures, more beloved than houses, land, riches, honor,ease, comfort, wife or children. Ask them what is most dear of allearthly things, there will be but one answer,—"The flag! the dear oldflag!" It is their pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day,—thesymbol of everything worth living for, worth dying for!

Their banners bear the names of Bull Run, Ball's Bluff, Roanoke,Newburn, Gains's Mills, Mechanicsville, Seven Pines, Savage Station,Glendale, Malvern, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Antietam, SouthMountain, Knoxville, Vicksburg, Port Hudson, Gettysburg, inscribed ingolden characters.

The people of Washington have turned out to see them. Senators haveleft their Chamber, and the House of Representatives has taken arecess to gaze upon the defenders of their country, as they passthrough the city,—many of them, alas! never to return.

There is the steady tramping of the thousands,—the deep, heavy jar ofthe gun-carriages,—the clattering of hoofs, the clanking of sabres,the drum-beat, the bugle-call, and the music of the bands. Pavement,sidewalk, windows, and roofs are occupied by the people. A division ofveterans pass, saluting the President and their commander with cheers.And now with full ranks, platoons extending from sidewalk to sidewalk,are brigades which never have been in battle, for the first timeshouldering arms for their country; who till a year ago never had acountry, who even now are not American citizens, who aredisfranchised,—yet they are going out to fight for the flag! Theircountry was given them by the tall, pale, benevolent-hearted(p. 311)man standing upon the balcony. For the first time they behold theirbenefactor. They are darker hued than their veteran comrades; but theycan cheer as lustily, "Hurrah! Hurrah!" "Hurrah for Massa Linkum!""Three cheers for the President!" They swing their caps, clap theirhands, and shout their joy. Long, loud, and jubilant are therejoicings of those redeemed sons of Africa. Regiment after regimentof stalwart men,—slaves once, but freemen now,—with steady step andeven rank, pass down the street, moving on to the Old Dominion.

It was the first review of colored troops by the President. He gavethem freedom, he recognized them as soldiers. Their brethren in armsof the same complexion had been murdered in cold blood, aftersurrender, at Port Pillow and at Plymouth. And such would be theirfate should they by chance become prisoners of war.

The time had come for the great movement.

On Tuesday afternoon, May 3d, the cavalry broke camp on the Orange andAlexandria Railroad, and moved eastward,—General Gregg's divisiontowards Ely's Ford, and General Wilson's division towards GermannaFord, each having pontoons. At midnight the Second Corps, which hadbeen encamped east of Culpepper, followed General Gregg. At daylighton the morning of the 4th of May, the Fifth and Sixth Corps and thereserve artillery were moving towards Germanna Ford. Thesupply-train—four thousand wagons—followed the Second Corps. Therewere but these two available roads.

The enemy was at Orange Court-House, watching, from his elevatedlookout on Clark's Mountain, for the first sign of change in the Unioncamp. In the light of the early dawn he saw that the encampments atCulpepper were broken up, while the dust-cloud hanging over the foresttoward the east was the sure indication of the movement.

General Lee put his army in instant motion to strike the advancingcolumns as they crossed the Rapidan. The movement of Grant wassoutheast, that of Lee northeast,—lines of advance which must producecollision, unless Grant was far enough forward to slip by the angle.There is reason to believe that General Grant did not intend to fightLee at Wilderness,(p. 312) but that it was his design to slip pastthat point and swing round by Spottsylvania, and, if possible, getbetween Lee and Richmond. He boldly cut loose his connection withWashington, and plunged into the Wilderness, relying upon the abilityof his soldiers to open a new base for supplies whenever needed.

In this first day's movement he did not uncover Washington. Burnsidewas still lying on the north bank of the Rappahannock. It wasunderstood in the army that the Ninth Corps was to be a reserve toprotect the capital. So, perhaps, Lee understood it. But at nightfall,on the 4th, the shelter-tents were folded, and the men of the Ninth,with six days' rations in their haversacks, were on the march alongthe forest-road, lighted only by the stars, joining the main army atGermanna Ford on the morning of the 5th.

The movement from the Rapidan to Cold Harbor was made in thirty days.It was a series of movements by the left flank, in part to get betweenLee and his southern communications, and in part to force him toabandon strong positions.

The movements were:—
From Culpepper to Wilderness.
From Wilderness to Spottsylvania.
From Spottsylvania to the North Anna.
From the North Anna to Cold Harbor.
From Cold Harbor to Petersburg.

It was thirty days of continuous marching, or fighting, buildingdefences and bridges, opening roads, establishing new bases ofsupplies, through a country densely wooded, and crossing four largerivers, besides numerous smaller streams, to find always the enemyupon the other side, prepared to give desperate battle.

It was early in the morning on the 4th of May when the reveillesounded for the last time over the hills and dales of Culpepper. Thelast cups of coffee were drunk, the blankets folded, and then thearmy, which through the winter had lain in camp, moved away from thelog huts, where many a jest had been spoken, many a storytold,—where, through rain and mud, and heat and cold, the faithfuland true-hearted men had kept watch and ward through the long, wearymonths,—where songs of praise and prayer to God had been raised bythousands who looked beyond the present into the future life.

(p. 313) So rapid was the march that the Second Corps reachedChancellorsville before night, having crossed the Rapidan at Ely'sFord. The Sixth and Fifth Corps crossed at Germanna Ford, withoutopposition, and before night the Army of the Potomac was upon thesouthern side of that stream, where it was joined by the Ninth Corpsthe next morning.

General Grant's quarters for the night were in an old house near theford. Lights were to be put out at nine o'clock. There were the usualscenes of a bivouac, and one unusual to an army. The last beams ofdaylight were fading in the west. The drummers were beating thetattoo. Mingled with the constant rumbling of the wagons across thepontoons, and the unceasing flow of the river, was a chorus ofvoices,—a brigade singing a hymn of devotion. It was the grand oldchoral of Luther, Old Hundred.

"Eternal are thy mercies, Lord,
Eternal truth attends thy word;
Thy praise shall sound from shore to shore,
Till suns shall rise and set no more."

Many soldiers in that army were thinking of home,—not only of lovedones, and of associations full of sweet and tender memories, but of abetter abiding-place, eternal in the heavens. To thousands it was alast night on earth.

Early in the morning of the 5th Generals Meade and Grant, with theirstaffs, after riding five miles from Germanna Ford, halted near an oldmill in the Wilderness. General Sheridan's cavalry had been pushingout south and west. Aides came back with despatches.

"They say that Lee intends to fight us here," said General Meade, ashe read them.

"Very well," was the quiet reply of General Grant.

The two commanders retire a little from the crowd, and stand by theroadside in earnest conversation. Grant is of medium stature, yet hasa well-developedphysique, sandy whiskers and moustache, blue eyes,earnest, thoughtful, and far-seeing, a cigar in his mouth, a knife inone hand, and a stick in the other, which he is whittling to a point.He whittles slowly towards him. His thoughts are not yet crystallized.His words are few. Suddenly he commences upon the other end(p. 314)of the stick, and whittles energetically from him. And now he is lessreticent,—talks freely. He is dressed in plain blue; and were it notfor the three stars upon his shoulder, few would select him as theLieutenant-General commanding all the armies of the Union in thefield.

Meade is tall, thin, a little stooping in the shoulders, quick,comprehending the situation of affairs in an instant, energetic,—anofficer of excellent executive ability.

Years ago, a turnpike was built from Fredericksburg to OrangeCourt-House; but in the days when there was a mania for plank roads,another corporation constructed a plank road between the same places.A branch plank road, commencing two miles west of Chancellorsville,crosses the Rapidan at Germanna Ford, running to Stevensburg, north ofthat stream. The turnpike runs nearly east and west, while theStevensburg plank road runs northwest. General Grant has establishedhis head-quarters at the crossing of the turnpike and the Stevensburgroad, his flag waving from a knoll west of the road. A mile and a halfout on the turnpike, on a ridge, is Parker's store, where, early inthe morning, I saw long lines of Rebel infantry, the sunlight gleamingfrom bayonet and gun-barrel.

Before the contest begins, let us go up to the old Wilderness tavern,which stands on the Stevensburg plank road, and take a view of aportion of the battle-field. It will be a limited view, for there arefew open spaces in the Wilderness.

From the tavern you look west. At your feet is a brook, flowing fromthe southwest, and another small stream from the northwest, joiningtheir waters at the crossing of the turnpike and the plank road. Theturnpike rises over a ridge between the two streams. On the southslope is the house of Major Lacy, owner of a house at Falmouth, usedby our soldiers after the battle of Fredericksburg. It is a beautifulview,—a smooth lawn in front of the house, meadows green with theverdure of spring; beyond the meadows are hills thickly wooded,—talloaks, and pine and cedar thickets. On the right hand side of theturnpike the ridge is more broken, and also thickly set with smalltrees and bushes. A mile and a half out from the crossing of the tworoads the ridge breaks down into a ravine. General Lee has possessionof the western bank, Grant the(p. 315) eastern. It is such a mixtureof woods, underbrush, thickets, ravines, hills, hollows, and knolls,that one is bewildered in passing through it, and to attempt todescribe would be a complete bewilderment to writer and reader.

But General Grant has been compelled to make this ridge his right lineof battle. He must protect his trains, which are still coming in onthe Germanna road.

The Sixth Corps, commanded by General Sedgwick, holds the right,covering the road to Germanna Ford. The left of the Third Divisionreaches the turnpike, where it connects with the Fifth Corps,Warren's. Before the arrival of Burnside's force, one division of theFifth is placed in position south of the turnpike. Now leaving a widegap, you walk through the woods towards the southeast, and two milesfrom head-quarters you find the Second Corps, under Hancock, a longline of men in the thick forest, on both sides of the Orange plankroad.

The forenoon of the 5th instant was devoted to taking positions.Engineers rode over the ground and examined the character of thecountry. A small party pushed out to Parker's store, but encountered aRebel column advancing; but the knowledge thus obtained of the groundin that direction was of great value.

Word was sent to General Hancock, who had orders to move in directionof Spottsylvania; that Lee was taking positions. He hastened to makeconnection with the other corps. Had he not moved rapidly, Lee wouldhave obtained possession of the fork of the two plank roads, theStevensburg and the Orange road, which would have been a seriousmishap. The Rebel advance was not more than a mile distant whenHancock secured it. No sooner had the pickets been thrown out, thanthe rattling of musketry commenced all along the line. About four inthe afternoon, each commander began to feel the position of the otherby advancing brigades on the right, left, and centre. An exchange of afew volleys would seemingly satisfy the parties.

It had been the practice of General Lee to begin and close a day witha grand fusilade. In this battle he adhered to his former tactics, byadvancing a heavy force upon our right, and(p. 316) then, when thecontest was at its height in that direction, attacked on the left. Therolls of musketry were very heavy and continuous for an hour. Therewas but little opportunity to charge bayonet. It was a close contestin a thick wood, on land which years ago was turned by the plough, butwhich, having by thriftless culture incident to the existence ofservile labor, been worn out, now bears the smallest oaks, hazels,sassafras, and briers.

Hostilities ceased at night. Each commander learned enough of theother's operations to make dispositions for the following day. Granthad no alterations to make. Lee had forced him to accept battle there,and he must do the best he could. Longstreet arrived in the night, andwas placed against Hancock, on the Rebel right, or rather on the rightcentre, overlapping the Second and coming against a portion of theNinth Corps, which was assigned to the left centre. Thus these twocorps and their two commanders met again in deadly conflict, havingfought at the first and second Bull Run, South Mountain, Antietam, andKnoxville.

General Alexis Hays, in the front line, finding that he wasoutnumbered, sent word to Hancock that he must have reinforcements.

"Tell him," said Hancock to the aide, "that he shall have a freshbrigade in twenty minutes."

Twenty minutes! An age to those who see their comrades falling,—theirlines growing thinner. Before the time had expired, General Hays wascarried back a corpse; but though the brave man had fallen, the troopsheld their ground.

Night closed over the scene. Everybody knew that the contest would berenewed in the morning. Lee began the attack on the 5th, falling likea thunderbolt on the flank of Grant, but made no impression on theUnion lines,—not moving them an inch from their chosen positions.

Grant resolved to take the initiative on the morning of the 6th, andorders were accordingly issued for a general attack at daybreak.

Sedgwick was to commence on the right at five o'clock, but Lee savedhim the trouble. A. P. Hill forestalled the movement by advancing athalf past four. The Rebel batteries by(p. 317) Parker's store sent ahalf-dozen shots into the Union lines as a signal for the beginning ofthe contest. Then came a slight ripple of musketry, then aroll,—long, deep, heavy,—and the crash,—indescribable, fearful tohear, terrible to think of. Fifty thousand muskets were flashing, withoccasional cannon-shots, mingled with shouts, cheers, and hurrahs fromthe Union lines, and yells like the war-whoop of Indians,—wild,savage howls from the depths of the tangled jungle. The sun rises upona cloudless sky. The air becomes sultry. The blood of the combatantsis at fever heat. There are bayonet-charges, surgings to and fro ofthe opposing lines, a meeting and commingling, like waves of theocean, sudden upspringings from the underbrush of divisions stealthilyadvanced. There is a continuous rattle, with intervening rollsdeepening into long, heavy swells, the crescendo and the diminuendo ofa terrible symphony, rising to thunder-tones, to crash and roarindescribable.

The Ninth Corps during the day was brought between the Fifth andSecond. Divisions were moved to the right, to the left, and to thecentre, during the two days' fight, but the positions of the corpsremained unchanged, and stood as represented in the diagram.

Wilderness.

Through all those long hours of conflict there was patient endurancein front of the enemy. There were temporary successes(p. 318) andreverses on both sides. In only a single instance was there permanentadvantage to Lee, and that he had not the power to improve. It was atthe close of the contest on the 6th. The sun had gone down, andtwilight was deepening into night. The wearied men of Rickett'sdivision of the Sixth Corps, in the front line of battle on the right,had thrown themselves upon the ground. Suddenly there was a rush upontheir flank. There was musketry, blinding flashes from cannon, andexplosions of shells. The line which had stood firmly through the daygave way, not because it was overpowered, but because it wassurprised. General Seymour and a portion of his brigade were takenprisoners. There was a partial panic, which soon subsided. The secondline remained firm, the enemy was driven back, and the disasterrepaired by swinging the Sixth Corps round to a new position, coveredby the reserve artillery.

On the morning of the 7th the pickets reported that Lee had fallenback. Reconnoitring parties said that he was throwing upentrenchments. Grant was thoughtful through the day. He said butlittle. He had a cigar in his mouth from morning till night. I saw himmany times during the day, deeply absorbed in thought. He rode alongthe centre, and examined the Rebel lines towards Parker's store. Attimes a shell or solid shot came from the Rebel batteries through thethick forest growth, but other than this there was but littlefighting. Grant determined to make a push for Spottsylvania, and puthis army between Lee and Richmond. By noon the trains were in motion,having been preceded by Sheridan with the cavalry, followed by theNinth Corps, and then the Fifth on a parallel road. But Lee had theshortest line. He was on the alert, and there was a simultaneousmovement of the Rebel army on a shorter line.

The Second, Fifth, and Sixth Corps took the Block road, while theNinth, with the trains, moved by Chancellorsville, over thebattle-ground of the preceding summer, where the bones of those whofell in that struggle were bleaching unburied in the summer air.

It was eleven P. M. on Saturday evening, May 7th, when Generals Grantand Meade, accompanied by their cavalry escorts, left the Wildernesshead-quarters of General Hancock(p. 319) for a ride to Todd's Tavern,a place of two or three houses, exhibiting the usual degree ofthriftlessness which characterized the Old Dominion. Twice during theride we ran into the Rebel pickets, and were compelled to takeby-paths through fields and thickets. General Grant rode at abreak-neck speed. How exciting! The sudden flashing of Rebel musketsin front, the whiz of the minnie projectile over our heads, the quickhalt and right about face,—our horses stumbling over fallen timberand stumps, the clanking of sabres, the clattering of hoofs, theplunge into brambles, the tension of every nerve, the strain upon allthe senses, the feeling of relief when we are once more in the road,and then the gallop along the narrow way, beneath the dark pines ofthe forest, till brought to a halt by the sudden challenge from ourown sentinel! It is a fast life that one leads at such a time. Whenthe reaction sets in the system is as limp as a wilted cabbage-leaf.

"Where are you going?" was the question of a cavalryman as we halted amoment.

"To Spottsylvania."

"I reckon you will have a scrimmage before you get there," said he.

"Why?"

"Well, nothing in particular, except there are forty or fifty thousandRebs in front of you. Sheridan has had a tough time of it, and Ireckon there is more work to be done."

We pushed on and reached Todd's at one o'clock on Sunday morning. Theroads were full of cavalry, also the fields and woods. Sheridan hadbeen fighting several hours, with Fitz Lee. The wounded were beingbrought in. Surgeons were at work. In the field, a short distance fromthe spot, the pickets were still firing shots. The Rebels wereretiring, and Sheridan's men, having won the field, were throwingthemselves upon the ground and dropping off to sleep as unconcernedlyas when seeking rest in the calm repose and silence of theirfar-distant homes.

Fastening our horses to the front-yard fence of Todd's, making apillow of our saddles, wrenching off the palings for a bed to keep ourbones from the ground, wrapping our blankets around us, we were soundasleep in three minutes, undisturbed(p. 320) by the tramping of thepassing troops, the jar of the artillery, the rumble of the ammunitionwagons, the shouts of the soldiers, the shrieks of the wounded, andgroans of the dying.

At sunrise the head-quarters of the army were removed to Piney GroveChurch. No bell called the worshippers of the parish to its portal onthat Sabbath morning, but other tones were vibrating the air. TheFifth Corps had come in collision with the Rebels, and while therear-guard of the army were firing their last shots in the Wilderness,the cannonade was reopening at Spottsylvania.

The day was intensely hot. I was wearied by the events of theweek,—the hard riding, the want of sleep, the series of battles,—andinstead of riding out to the field, enjoyed luxurious repose beneaththe apple-trees, fragrant with blossoms, and listened to the strangeSabbath symphony, the humming of bees, the songs of the birds, theroll of musketry, and the cannonade.

The second division, Robinson's, and the fourth, Cutler's (after theloss of Wadsworth, killed at the Wilderness), were engaged. Baxter'sbrigade of Robinson's division was thrown forward to ascertain theposition of the enemy. Their advance brought on the battle. The SixthCorps was moved to the left of Warren's on the Piney Church road, andwas placed in supporting distance. In this first engagement Robinsonwas badly wounded in the leg.

The Second Corps having filed through the woods, after a hot and dustymarch, came up behind the Fifth and Sixth. I took a ride along thelines late in the afternoon. The Fifth was moving slowly forward overundulations and through pine thickets,—a long line of men in blue,picking their way, now through dense underbrush, in a forest ofmoaning pines, now stepping over a sluggish stream, with briers,hazel, thorn-bushes, and alders impeding every step, and now emerginginto an old field where the thriftless farmers had turned the shallowsoil for spring planting.

There had been a lull in the cannonade, but it commenced again. It wasas before, a spirited contest, which lasted half an hour. Warrenpressed steadily on and drove the Rebels(p. 321) from their advancedposition, forcing them to retire across the creek, but losing severalhundred men before he dislodged them.

Reaching an opening in the forest, I came upon Hart's plantation, acollection of negro huts and farm buildings,—a lovely spot, where thespring wheat was already rolling in green waves in the passing breeze.Looking south over Po Creek, I could see the Catharpen road lined withhorse and footmen, and could hear in the intervals of silence therumble of wagons. A cloud of dust rose above the forest. Were theRebels retreating, or were they receiving reinforcements? GeneralGrant came down and looked at them. The Rebel artillerists near thecourt-house must have discovered us, for a half-dozen cannon-shot cameringing through the air, plunging into the newly ploughed cornfieldand the clover-land, knee deep with luxuriant grass.

On Monday morning it was found that Lee's whole army was atSpottsylvania; and as our skirmishers were deployed to ascertain theposition of the enemy, it was discovered that Rebels occupied all theground in front. General Grant did not at first think Lee would make adetour of his whole force from a direct line to Richmond; he thoughtit must be only detachments of men which had been thrown in his way;but when he discovered what Lee's intentions were, he prepared toaccept battle. Word was sent to General Burnside to take position onthe extreme left. The Second Corps, which had been in rear of theFifth, was swung to the right, while the Sixth was deflected towardthe Ninth. While these dispositions were being made, the skirmishingand cannonade were never intermitted for an instant. A pontoon trainwas sent around to the right, to be used by Hancock. A battery wasplaced in position at Hart's plantation, and its rifle shot and shellsinterrupted the tide of travel on the Catharpen road. Riding down tothe front of Hancock's corps, I found Birney, who with the ThirdDivision held the extreme right, and had already pushed far overtoward the Catharpen road.

Gibbon's division was in the centre, and Barlow's was on the left,occupying, in part, ground which the Fifth had held the nightprevious. It was nearly night, and the conflict was(p. 322)deepening. The day had been intensely hot, but, as the coolness ofevening came on, both parties addressed themselves to the encounter.Barlow marched over undulating pasture-lands, through fringes offorest, into a meadow, across it, and into the dark pines beyond.Taking a favorable stand near a deserted farm-house, by the PineyChurch road, I could see the dark lines move steadily on. Below me, ona hillock, were Hancock and staff directing movements. A half-dozenbatteries were in position close by. One—the Third Massachusetts—wassending its shells over the heads of our men into the woods beyond themeadow. Mounting the breastworks which had been thrown up at thisspot, I could see the orchard where the Rebel riflemen were lying.There was the sharp, shrill ringing of the minnie bullets whistlingthrough the air, and at times a lurid sheet of flame from a brigadepouring in its volleys. There was the flash, the cloud of dustwherever the ragged iron tore its way, and the deafening report. Igladly availed myself of whatever protection the breastwork afforded,although a solid shot would have passed through the slight embankmentas readily as a stone could be hurled through chaff. The chances wereas one to several thousand of my being hit, but it is the one chancewhich makes a person wish he were somewhere else. The Second Corps wassmartly assailed, but stood their ground and became assailants inturn,—not because they obeyed orders, but from the impulse of themen, who needed no urging. It was a remarkable feature. The men inthat contest fought because they wanted to. Gibbons and Birney swunglike a double-hinged door upon Longstreet's left flank and obtainedpossession of the ground which the Rebels occupied at the beginning ofthe engagement.

It became evident on Tuesday morning that General Lee had chosenSpottsylvania as a place for a trial of strength. Preparations wereaccordingly made for the work. General Grant's wounded impeded hismovements. He decided to send them to Fredericksburg. All who couldwalk were started on foot. Those who could not, but who did not needambulances, were placed in empty wagons. The long procession took itswinding way, and other thousands of mangled forms were brought in tofill the empty places. It was a sad sight. It made(p. 323) me sick atheart, and weary of war, and how much more sick and weary when Ithought of the great iniquity which had caused it.

At daybreak the cannonade recommenced, Grant's guns coming first intoplay. The Rebels for a while remained in silent indifference; but ascontinued teasing rouses a wild beast's anger, so at length theyreplied.

The air was calm, and the reverberation rolled far over the forest.There was constant skirmishing through the forenoon. General Grantrode along the lines, inspected the position, and issued orders for ageneral advance at five o'clock; but Lee took the initiative, andthrough the afternoon the battle raged with exceeding fierceness.

There was nothing at Spottsylvania worthy of contention,—nomountain-pass or deep-running river; but General Grant being on hisway to Richmond, his adversary, like Apollyon assaulting Christian,had come out to meet him on that spot. Lee had the advantage ofposition and was able to concentrate his forces. It was about oneo'clock when Longstreet began to press Hancock. There was a hotengagement for an hour, principally by Birney's division; but failingto move Birney, an attempt was made to pry open still wider the jointbetween the Second and Fifth Corps.

The relative positions of the two armies will be seen from thefollowing diagram.

Spottsylvania.

The battle was fought in the forest,—in the marshes along(p. 324)the Ny,—in ravines,—in pine-thickets densely shaded with the darkevergreens that shut out the rays of the noonday sun,—in open fields,where Rebel batteries had full sweep and play—with shell, and grape,and canister—from intrenched positions on the hills.

During a lull in the strife I visited the hospitals. Suddenly thebattle recommenced in greater fury. The wounded began to come in at afearful rate. The battle was drawing nearer. Shells were streamingpast the hospitals. There were signs of disaster.

"Are they driving us?" was the eager inquiry of the wounded.

While the storm was at its height, a stalwart soldier who had justrisen from the amputating-table, where his left arm, torn to shreds bya cannon-shot, had been severed above the elbow, leaning against thetent-pole, sang the song he often had sung in camp,—

"The Union forever! Hurrah, boys! hurrah!
Down with the traitor, up with the star;
While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once again,
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom!"

His wounded comrades heard it, and joined in the chorus, raising theirarms, swinging their caps, and cheering the flag they loved. It is oneof memory's fadeless pictures. Is it a wonder that the recollection ofthat scene sometimes fills my eyes with tears?

The contest all along the line was terrific. Even now, over all theintervening time and distance, I seem to hear the unceasing rattle androll of musketry and cannon, the cheer of the combatants, the trampingof horses, the explosion of shells, the shriek of the rifledprojectile, the crash through the trees. It goes on hour after hour.The ranks are thinning. The men with stretchers bring in theirbleeding burdens, and lay them gently upon the ground.

It is past seven o'clock. The shades of evening are falling. Thehillside in front of the Sixth Corps is aflame. While the uproar iswildest there is a cheer, sharper and louder than the din of theconflict. It is not the savage war-cry of the enemy, but a buoyantshout. Into the storm sweeps the Vermont(p. 325) brigade, withbayonets firmly set, leaping over the Rebel works, and gatheringhundreds of prisoners from Dale's brigade of Rebels. Ewell poured inreinforcements to strengthen his line and regain his lost work, whichwas stubbornly held by the Second Vermont. Far in advance of the mainline lay that regiment, pouring a deadly fire upon the enemy. GeneralWright (in command after Sedgwick's death) sent to have the regimentwithdrawn.

"We don't want to go back! Give us rations and ammunition, and we'llhold it for six months if you want us to," was the reply.

General Wright rode to General Grant. "What shall I do?" he asked.

"Pile in the men and hold it!" was the answer.

General Wright returned, but meanwhile a subordinate officer hadordered them to retire. They were loath to give up what they had wonso gloriously.

General Rice, commanding a brigade in the Fifth Corps, was wounded,and borne to the rear. The surgeon laid down his knife after removingthe shattered limb, and stood beside him to soothe with tender wordsin the last dread hour which was coming on apace. The sufferer couldhear the swelling tide of battle, the deepening rolls like waves uponthe ocean shore. His eyes were closing. He was approaching that oceanwhich has no shore. His pain was intense.

"Turn me over," said he, faintly.

"Which way?"

"Let me die with my face to the enemy!"

They were his last words. A short struggle and all was ended. AChristian patriot had finished his work on earth, and was numberedwith the heroic dead.

The early dawn of Thursday, the 12th, beheld the Second Corps inmotion,—not to flank the enemy, but moving, with fixed bayonets,straight on towards his intrenchments. Barlow's and Birney's divisionsin columns of battalions, doubled on the centre, to give strength andfirmness, led the assault. They move silently through theforest,—through the ravine in front of them, up to their ownskirmish-line,—past it,—no longer marching, but runningnow,—dashing on with enthusiasm(p. 326) thrilling every nerve. Theysweep away the Rebel picket-line as if it were a cobweb. On! into theintrenchments with a hurrah which startles the soldiers of both armiesfrom their morning slumbers. Major-General Johnson andBrigadier-General Stewart, and three thousand men of Ewell's divisionare taken prisoners, eighteen cannon, and twenty-two standardscaptured.

It was the work of five minutes,—as sudden as the swoop of an eagle.Then the uproar of the day began. The second line of the enemy's workswas assaulted; but, exasperated by their losses, the Rebels foughtfiercely. The Ninth Corps was moved up from the left to support theSecond. Longstreet, on the other hand, was brought over to help Ewell.The Fifth and Sixth became partially engaged. There were charges andcounter-charges. Positions were gained and lost. From morning tillnight the contest raged on the right, in the centre, and on the left,swaying to and fro over the undulations and through the ravines. Itwas a battle of fourteen hours' duration,—in severity, in unflinchingdetermination, in obstinacy, not exceeded by any during the war.Between forty and fifty pieces of artillery were at one time in thehands of General Hancock; but owing to the difficulties of removal,and the efforts of the enemy, he could secure only eighteen. Duringthe day Grant advanced his lines a mile towards the court-house, andrepulsed Lee in all his counter-attacks.

During the lull in the strife at Spottsylvania I spent a day inFredericksburg, visiting the hospitals.

The city is a vast hospital; churches, public buildings, privatedwellings, stores, chambers, attics, basements, all full. There arethousands upon the sidewalk. All day long the ambulances have beenarriving from the field. There are but few wounded left at the front,those only whom to remove would be certain death.

The sanitary commission in the hospital.

A red flag has been flung out at the Sanitary Commission rooms,—awhite one at the rooms of the Christian Commission. There are threehundred volunteer nurses in attendance. The Sanitary Commission havefourteen wagons bringing supplies from Belle Plain. The ChristianCommission has less transportation facilities, but in devotion, inhard work, in(p. 327) patient effort, it is the compeer of its morebountifully supplied neighbor. The nurses are divided into details,some for day service, some for night work. Each State has its ReliefCommittee.

How patient the brave fellows are! Not a word of complaint, but thanksfor the slightest favor. There was a lack of crutches. I saw an oldsoldier of the California regiment, who fought with the lamented Bakerat Ball's Bluff, and who had been in more than twenty battles,hobbling about with the arms of a settee nailed to strips of board.His regiment was on its way home, its three years of service havingexpired. It was reduced to a score or two of weather-beaten,battle-scarred veterans. The disabled comrade could hardly keep backthe tears as he saw them pass down the street. "Few of us left. Thebones of the boys are on every battle-field where the Army of thePotomac has fought," said he.

There was the sound of the pick and spade in the churchyard, aheaving-up of new earth,—a digging of trenches, not for defenceagainst the enemy, but for the last resting-place of departed heroes.There they lie, each wrapped in his blanket, the last bivouac! Forthem there is no more war,—no charges into the thick, leadenrain-drops,—no more hurrahs, no more cheering for the dear old flag!They have fallen, but the victory is theirs,—theirs the roll ofeternal honor. Side by side,—men from Massachusetts, fromPennsylvania, and from Wisconsin,—from all the States, resting in onecommon grave. Peace to them! blessings on the dear ones,—wives,mothers, children whom they have left behind.

Go into the hospitals;—armless, legless men, wounds of everydescription. Men on the floor, on the hard seats of church-pews, lyingin one position all day, unable to move till the nurse, going therounds, gives them aid. They must wait till their food comes. Somemust be fed with a spoon, for they are as helpless as little children.

"O that we could get some straw for the brave fellows," said the Rev.Mr. Kimball, of the Christian Commission. He had wandered about town,searching for the article.

"There is none to be had. We shall have to send to Washington forit," said the surgeon in charge.

(p. 328) "Straw! I remember two stacks, four miles out on theSpottsylvania road. I saw them last night as I galloped in from thefront."

Armed with a requisition from the Provost Marshal to seize two stacksof straw, with two wagons driven by freedmen, accompanied by fourChristian Commission delegates, away we went across the battle-fieldof December, fording Hazel Run, gaining the heights, and reaching thestraw stacks owned by Rev. Mr. Owen, a bitter Rebel.

"By whose authority do you take my property?"

"The Provost Marshal, sir."

"Are you going to pay me for it?"

"You must see the Provost Marshal, sir. If you are a loyal man, andwill take the oath of allegiance, doubtless you will get your pay whenwe have put down the Rebellion."

"It is pretty hard. My children are just ready to starve. I havenothing for them to eat, and you come to take my property withoutpaying for it."

"Yes, sir, war is hard. You must remember, sir, that there arethousands of wounded men,—your Rebel wounded as well as ours. If yourchildren are on the point of starving, those men are on the point ofdying. We must have the straw for them. What we don't take to-night wewill get in the morning. Meanwhile, sir, if anybody attempts to takeit, please say to them that it is for the hospital, and they can'thave it."

Thus with wagons stuffed, we leave Rev. Mr. Owen and return to makeglad the hearts of several thousand men. O how they thank us!

"Did you get it for me? God bless you, sir."

It is evening. Thousands of soldiers just arrived from Washington havepassed through the town to take their places in the front. The hillsaround are white with innumerable tents.

A band is playing lively airs to cheer the wounded in the hospitals. Ihave been looking in to see the sufferers. Two or three have gone totheir long home. They will need no more attention. A surgeon is atwork upon a ghastly wound, taking up the arteries. An attendant ispouring cold water upon a swollen limb. In the Episcopal church anurse is bolstering up a wounded officer in the area behind thealtar.(p. 329) Men are lying in the pews, on the seats, on the floor,on boards on top of the pews.

Two candles in the spacious building throw their feeble rays into thedark recesses, faintly disclosing the recumbent forms. There is heavy,stifled breathing, as of constant effort to suppress cries extorted byacutest pain.

Passing into the street you see a group of women, talking aboutourwounded,—Rebel wounded, who are receiving their especial devotion.The Provost Marshal's patrol is going its rounds to preserve order.

Starting down the street, you reach the rooms of the ChristianCommission. Some of the men are writing letters for the soldiers, someeating their night-rations, some dispensing supplies. Passing throughthe rooms, you gain the grounds in the rear,—a beautiful gardenonce,—not unattractive now. The air is redolent with honeysuckle andlocust blossoms. The prunifolia is unfolding its delicate milk-whitepetals; roses are opening their tinted leaves.

Fifty men are gathered round a summer-house,—warm-hearted men, whohave been all day in the hospitals. Their hearts have been wrung bythe scenes of suffering, in the exercise of Christian charity,imitating the example of the Redeemer of men. They have dispensed foodfor the body and nourishment for the soul. They have given cups ofcold water in the name of Jesus, and prayed with those departing tothe Silent Land. The moonlight shimmers through the leaves of thelocusts, as they meet at that evening hour to worship God

The little congregation breaks into singing,—

"Come, thou fount of every blessing."

After the hymn, a chaplain says, "Brethren, I had service thisafternoon in the First Division hospital of the Second Corps. Thesurgeon in charge, before prayer, asked all who desired to be prayedfor to raise their hands, and nearly every man who had a hand raisedit. Let us remember them in our prayers to-night."

A man in the summer-house, so far off that I cannot distinguish him,says,—

"Every man in the Second Division of the Sixth Corps hospital raisedhis hand for prayers to-night."

(p. 330) There are earnest supplications that God will bless them;that they may have patience; that Jesus will pillow their heads uponhis breast, relieve their sufferings, soothe their sorrows, wipe awayall their tears, heal their wounds; that he will remember the widowand the fatherless, far away, moaning for the loved and lost.

Another hymn,—

"Jesus, lover of my soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly,"

and the delegates return to their work of mercy.

At Spottsylvania there were constant skirmishing and artillery-firingthrough the 13th, and a moving of the army from the north to the eastof the Court-House. A rain-storm set in. The roads became heavy, and acontemplated movement—a sudden flank attack—was necessarilyabandoned.

There was a severe skirmish on the 14th, incessant picket-firing onthe 15th, and on the 16th another engagement all along the line,—notfought with the fierceness of that of the 12th, but lasting throughthe forenoon, and resulting in the taking of a line of rifle-pits fromthe enemy.

On Wednesday, the 18th, there was an assault upon Lee's outer line ofworks. Two lines of rifle-pits were carried; but an impassable abatisprevented farther advance, and after a six hours' struggle the troopswere withdrawn.

On the afternoon of the 19th Ewell gained the rear of Grant's rightflank, and came suddenly upon Tyler's division of heavy artillery,armed as infantry, just arrived upon the field. Though surprised, theyheld the enemy in check, forced him back, and with aid from the SecondCorps compelled him to retreat with great loss. This attack was madeto cover Lee's withdrawal to the North Anna. His troops were alreadyon the march.

Grant was swift to follow.

It is a two days' march from Spottsylvania to the North Anna. Thecrossings of the Mattapony were held by Rebel cavalry, which wasquickly driven. Then came the gallant crossing of the Fifth Corps atJericho Ford, the irresistible charge of Birney and Barlow of theSecond Corps at Taylor's Bridge, the sweeping-in of five hundredprisoners, the severe engagements lasting three days,—all memorableevents, worthy of prominence in a full history of the campaign.

North Anna.

The North Anna is a rapid stream, with high banks. East of Taylor'sbridge, towards Sexton's Junction, there is an extensive swamp, butwestward the country is rolling. It was supposed that Lee would make astubborn resistance at the crossings, but at Jericho Warren found onlya few pickets upon the southern bank. A pontoon was laid and twodivisions sent over; but moving towards the railroad a mile, theyencountered Hood's and Pickett's divisions of Ewell's corps. Thecannonade was heavy and the musketry sharp, mainly between Cutler'scommand and Ewell's, lasting till dark.

It is about two miles from Jericho crossing to the railroad, the pointfor which the right wing was aiming.

"I reckon that our troops didn't expect you to come this way," saidMr. Quarles, a citizen residing on the north bank, with whom I foundaccommodation for the night.

"I suppose you didn't expect Grant to get this side of theWilderness?"

"We heard that he was retreating towards Fredericksburg," was theresponse.

He was the owner of a saw-mill. Timber was wanted for the constructionof a bridge. His mill was out of repair, but there were men in theUnion army accustomed to run saw-mills, and an hour was sufficient toput the machinery in order for the manufacture of lumber. It wasamusing to see the soldiers lay down their guns, take up the crowbar,roll the logs into the mill, adjust the saw, hoist the gate, and situpon the log while(p. 332) the saw was cutting its way. The owner ofthe mill looked on in disgust, as his lumber was thus freely handled.

In the first advance from Jericho bridge, the force was repulsed. TheRebels of Ewell's command came on with confidence, to drive theretreating troops into the river; but Warren had taken the precautionto place his smooth-bore guns on a hillock, south of the stream, whilehis rifled pieces were on the north side, in position, to give across-fire with the smooth-bores. When the Rebels came within reach ofthis concentrated fire they were almost instantly checked. It was notime to rush on, or to stand still and deliberate; they fled,uncovering the railroad, to which the Sixth advanced, tearing up thetrack and burning the depot. In the centre, the Ninth Corps had asevere fight, resulting in considerable loss.

It is two miles from Jericho bridge to Carmel Church, which stands ina beautiful grove of oaks. While the troops were resting beneath thetrees, waiting for the order to move, a chaplain entered the churchand proposed to hold religious service.

The soldiers manifested their pleasure, kneeled reverently during theprayer, and listened with tearful eyes to the exhortations whichfollowed.

It was inspiring to hear them sing,

"Come, sing to me of heaven,
When I'm about to die;
Sing songs of holy ecstasy,
To waft my soul on high."

At dark on the evening of the 25th of May, I rode along the lines ofthe Second Corps to take a look at the Rebels. There was a steady fireof artillery. One battery of the Rebels had full sweep of the plain,and the shells were flying merrily. A thunder-storm was rising. Thelightning was vivid and incessant. My head-quarters for the night wereto be with a surgeon attached to the First Division of the NinthCorps, several miles distant. The dense black clouds rising in thewest made the night intensely dark, except when the lightning-flashesgleamed along the sky. It was a scene of sublime grandeur: heaven'sartillery in play,—the heavy peals of thunder, mingling with the roarof the battle-field! After an hour's ride through pine thickets,over old corn-fields, half-blinded by the(p. 333) lightning, Ireached the quarters of my friend the surgeon, whose tent was justthen being packed into the wagon for a night march to a new position.The storm was close at hand, and together we fled for shelter to aneighboring cabin. I had barely time to fasten my horse and enter thedoor before the storm was upon us.

Bayonet charge.

The house was built of logs, chinked with mud, contained two roomsabout fifteen feet square, and was occupied by a colored family.

Others had fled for shelter to the hospitable roof. I foundcongregated there for the night nine surgeons, three hospital nurses,a delegate of the Christian Commission, two soldiers, two coloredwomen, a colored man, three children. The colored people had takentheir only pig into the house, to save the animal from being killed bythe soldiers, and had tied it to the bed-post. Their poultry—half adozen fowls—was imprisoned under a basket. The rain fell in torrentsthroughout the night. Finding a place under the table for my head,with my overcoat for a pillow, and thrusting my legs under the bedwhich was occupied by three surgeons, I passed the night, and thoughtmyself much more highly favored than the forty or fifty who came tothe door, but only to find a full hotel.

Instead of trying to walk over the obstacle in his path, Grant decidedto go round it. Stealing a march upon Lee, he moved suddenlysoutheast, crossed the Pamunkey at Hanover Town, opened a new base ofsupplies at White House, forcing Lee to fall back on the Chickahominy.

On Sunday, the 29th, a great cavalry engagement took place at Hawes'sshop, west of Hanover Town, in which Sheridan drove the Rebels backupon Bethesda Church. The army came into position on the 30th, itsright towards Hanover Court-House. Lee was already in position, andduring the day there was firing all along the line. All the corps wereengaged. The Second Corps by the Shelton House, by a bayonet-chargepushed the enemy from the outer line of works which he had thrown up,while the Fifth Corps rolled back, with terrible slaughter, the massof men which came upon its flank and front at Bethesda Church. At ColdHarbor, the Sixth, joined by the Eighteenth Army Corps, underMajor-General(p. 334) W. F. Smith, from Bermuda Hundred, metLongstreet and Breckenridge, and troops from Beauregard. Sheridan hadseized this important point,—important because of the junction ofroads,—and held it against cavalry and infantry till the arrival ofthe Fifth and Eighteenth. The point secured, a new line of battle wasformed on the 1st of June. The Ninth held the right of BethesdaChurch; the Fifth was south of the church, joining the Eighteenth; theSixth held the road from Cold Harbor to Gaines's Mills; while theSecond was thrown out on the left, on the road leading to DespatchStation and the Chickahominy.

In the campaign of 1862, Cold Harbor was General McClellan'shead-quarters while he was on the north bank of the Chickahominy, andJackson, when he advanced to attack Fitz John Porter, marched down theroad over which Grant moved, to that locality. It is a place of onehouse,—an old tavern standing at a crossing of roads, twelve milesfrom Richmond. The most direct route to the city runs past Gaines'sMills, where the first of the series of battles was fought beforeRichmond, in the seven days' contest. Jackson's head-quarters were atCold Harbor during that engagement.

The general position of the two armies in Grant's battles at ColdHarbor is indicated by the accompanying diagram.

Cold Harbor.

(p. 335) A huge catalpa stands in front of the old tavern, where inthe peaceful days of the Old Dominion travellers rested their horsesbeneath the grateful shade, while they drank their toddy at the tavernbar. Two great battles were fought there by Grant, the first in theevening of the 1st of June, the second on the evening of the 3d.

There is a line of breastworks west of the house, a few rods distant,behind which Russell's division of the Sixth Corps is lying. The roadto Despatch Station runs due south; the road to New Cold Harborsouthwest, the road to Bethesda Church northwest. In the battle foughton the 1st instant, Neil was east of the road leading to DespatchStation, Russell west of the house, and Ricketts northwest.

Passing toward the right one mile, we come to the house of DanielWoody, which is in rear of the right of the line of the Eighteenth. Itis the head-quarters of General Martindale, who commands the rightdivision of the line. Next is Brooks's division in the centre, withDevens on the left, connecting with Ricketts's on the right of theSixth.

There is a clear space west of Woody's house, a cornfield latelyplanted, but now trodden by the feet of Martindale's men. In front ofBrooks there is a gentle swell of land, wooded with pines. On thecrest of the hill there is a line of Rebel rifle-pits. In front ofDevens the swell is smoothed to a plain, or rather there is adepression, as if the hillock had been scooped out of the plain. Thisalso is wooded. The belt of timber stretches over the plain, crossingthe road to Gaines's Mill, about half a mile from the tavern,—a darkstrip of green twenty or thirty rods in width. Beyond the belt towardRichmond is a smooth field, half a mile in width, bounded on thefarther edge, under the shadow of another belt of green, by the lineof Beauregard's breastworks. The line of Rebel defence runs diagonallyto the road, the distance being less between Ricketts and the workthan on the left in front of Neil. This plain is swept by Rebel cannonand thousands of rifles and muskets.

It was past six o'clock—nearly seven—before the troops were inposition to move upon the enemy's works. They marched through thewoods, emerged upon the open field(p. 336) The Rebel batteries openedwith redoubled fury, but the line advanced steadily. Devens found thedepression in front of him almost a marsh, with trees felled, formingan abatis; but his men passed through, and again came into line.Burnham's brigade, of Brooks's division, containing the Tenth andThirteenth New Hampshire, Eighth Connecticut, and One Hundred andEighteenth New York, charged up the hill in front, and took therifle-pits above them. Ricketts, having less distance to advance thanthe other divisions of the Sixth, was soonest in the fight, sweepingall before him. Before the Rebels could reload their pieces after thefirst volley the bayonets of the advancing columns, gleaming in thelight of the setting sun, were at their throats. Half a brigade wastaken prisoners, while the rest of the Rebels in front of Rickettsfled in disorder.

Russell moving along the road received an enfilading fire fromartillery and musketry. The Rebels having recovered from their panic,held on with stubbornness. The broad plain over which Russell movedwas fringed with fire. From dark till past ten o'clock Breckenridgetried in vain to recover what he had lost.

The loss was severe to us in killed and wounded. But it was a victory,so signal that a congratulatory order was issued by General Meade tothe Sixth Corps.

Lying beneath the ever-moaning pines, with the star-lit heavens for atent, I listened to the sounds of the battle,—steady, monotonous,like the surf on the beach. An hour's sleep, and still it was rollingin. But all things must have an end. Near midnight it died away, andthere was only the chirping of the cricket, the unvarying note of thewhip-poor-will, and the wind swaying the stately trees around me.Peaceful all around; but ah! beyond those forest belts were thesuffering heroes, parched with thirst, fevered with the fight,bleeding for their country. How shall we thank them? How shall wereward them? What estimate shall we place upon their work? O friends,as you recall this sacrifice, let your hearts warm with devotion toyour country. Do honor to the noble dead, and forget not theliving,—the widow and the fatherless.

The battle of the 3d of June was obstinate and bloody, and(p. 337)resulted in great loss to Grant. The artillery firing was constantthrough the forenoon, but Lee was too strongly entrenched to bedriven.

As soon as there was a lull in the roar of battle, I improved theopportunity to visit the hospitals. There were long lines ofambulances bringing in the wounded, who were laid beneath the trees.Unconscious men were upon the tables, helpless in the hands of thesurgeons,—to wake from a dreamless sleep with a limb gone, a bleedingstump of a leg or arm. Horrid the gashes where jagged iron had cutthrough the flesh, severing arteries and tendons in an instant. Heads,hands, legs, and arms mangled and dripping with blood,—human blood!There were moans, low murmurings, wrenched from the men against theirwills. Men were babbling, in their delirium, of other scenes,—dimrecollections, which were momentary realities. To be with them and notdo for them,—to see suffering without power to alleviate,—givespainful tension to nerves, even though one may be familiar with scenesof carnage.

I turned from the scene all but ready to say, "Anything to stay thisterrible destruction of human life." But there were otherthoughts,—of retributive justice,—of sighs and groans, scourgedbacks, broken hearts, partings of mothers from their children,—thecoffle train, and the various horrors of the accursed system ofslavery, the cause of all this "wounding and hurt." I remembered thatit was a contest between eternal right and infernal wrong; that He whois of infinite love and tenderness in His war against rebellion,spared not his only begotten Son;—and thus consoled and strengthened,I could wish the contest to go on till victory should crown ourefforts, and a permanent peace be the inheritance of our children.

At Cold Harbor the abilities of Lee, McClellan, and Grant ascommanders have been exhibited. Lee's head-quarters during the battleof Gaines's Mills were at New Cold Harbor, but during the afternoon herode over to the old tavern and had a talk with Jackson. That battlewas won by Lee after a hard struggle, not through any lack of courageon the part of the Union troops, but through McClellan's want ofgeneralship. McClellan was ever taking counsel of his fears. He(p. 338) uniformly overestimated the numbers of the enemy. When Leeadvanced to Munson's Hill, near Alexandria, in October, 1861, his armydid not exceed sixty thousand, but McClellan estimated it at "onehundred and fifty thousand, well drilled, equipped, ably commanded,and strongly entrenched."[58] In March, 1862, when Lee evacuatedManassas, his estimate of the Rebel army was one hundred and fifteenthousand, while the actual strength was less than fifty thousand. "Itseems clear that I shall have the whole force of the enemy on myhands, probably not less than one hundred thousand, and probablymore," wrote McClellan to the Secretary of War upon his arrival atYorktown.

Magruder commanded the Rebels at Yorktown. "My whole force," says he,"was less than eleven thousand."[59]

The day before the battle of Cold Harbor, McClellan's estimate ofLee's army was two hundred thousand.[60] His own force, sick and well,on the 20th, was one hundred and seventeen thousand. He had presentand fit for duty on the day of battle from one hundred to one hundredand five thousand. Lee's force was two or three thousand less.

McClellan knew very little of Lee's army. He intrusted the managementof the secret service to two French princes, who, however estimablethey might be as individuals, had a superficial acquaintance with theEnglish language, who knew but little of America or Americans,—whosegeographical knowledge of the country in which the war was beingcarried on was less than that of the scholars of a New England grammarschool,—who were wanting in the lawyer-like qualifications necessaryto separating the true from the false in the stories of deserters,scouts, and spies. So inefficient was the secret service thatMcClellan had no information of Lee's movements or intentions tillJackson was at Ashland, within a few hours' march of Cold Harbor. Whenhe saw that he was to be attacked, he moved his own head-quarters tothe south side, making no effort to win the battle, thinking only of aretreat to the James.

A general who wins a battle through the blundering of an(p. 339)inefficient opponent cannot be called, on that account alone, a greatcommander. There must be genius in movements, in making use ofpositions and forces, so that victory is wrenched from a skilful foe,to entitle a commander to wear the bay leaves upon his brow.

McClellan's army was divided by the Chickahominy. He had about thirtythousand men on the north bank and seventy-five thousand on the southside. Lee submitted a plan to Jeff Davis, which was accepted, by whichhe hoped to destroy that portion of McClellan's force on the northbank. Whiting's and Ewell's divisions were put on board the cars andsent up the Virginia Central Railroad to Gordonsville, as if to joinJackson in the Shenandoah, or for a march on Washington, but Jacksonwas on his way towards Richmond. He commanded the united force,amounting to thirty thousand. He moved down to Ashland. A deserterinformed McClellan at Cold Harbor that Jackson would attack him on the28th.[61] Negroes came in on the next day who said that Jackson was atHanover Court-House. McClellan's line was twenty miles long. Hisextreme right was north of Richmond, at Mechanicsville; his left wassoutheast of the city, resting on White Oak Swamp. McClellan couldhave reinforced Porter, and defeated Lee, or he could have withdrawnhim to the south bank, and pushed into Richmond, but he left Porter tocontend with Lee's entire army, except Magruder's command of abouttwenty thousand men,[62] while he burned his supplies, destroyed therailroad, and made ready to march to the James. Porter held his groundtill nearly night, calling for reinforcements. Had a division beensent him at the right time, Lee would have suffered a terrible defeat.Slocum, of Franklin's corps, was sent over when too late to be ofessential service. Jackson extended his left south from the oldtavern, and fell upon Porter's right flank, and drove the Uniontroops, but everywhere else Lee was repulsed with great loss. Hisentire loss in that battle was about nine thousand and five hundred,McClellan's about four thousand.

Lee moved out from Richmond when Jackson was at Hanover(p. 340)Court-House. Branch's division marched up the Brooke turnpike, A. P.Hill moved over the Mechanicsville turnpike, Longstreet and D. H. Hillby the New Bridge road. McClellan was informed of the movement. Herewas his golden opportunity. By throwing nearly his entire army northof the Chickahominy, he could have met Lee outside of hisentrenchments, or he could have withdrawn Porter and made a rush uponthe city. Lee expected to meet the whole Union army at Cold Harbor,and in the battle supposed he was fighting McClellan's main force.

"The principal part of the enemy was on the north side," says Lee inhis report. It is evident that in his plan he calculated thatMcClellan would not risk a battle with a divided army, and hetherefore left but a small force to hold Richmond. Magruder on theother hand, saw the danger to the city. Says Magruder:—

"From the time at which the enemy withdrew his forces to this side of the Chickahominy, and destroyed the bridges, to the moment of his evacuation,—that is, from Friday night until Sunday morning,—I considered the situation of our army extremely critical and perilous. The larger portion of it was on either side of the Chickahominy, the bridges had all been destroyed, and but one was rebuilt, the New Bridge, which was fully commanded by the enemy's guns at Golding's; and there were but twenty-five thousand men between his army and Richmond. I received repeated instructions during Saturday night from General Lee's head-quarters, enjoining upon my command the utmost vigilance, directing the men to sleep on their arms, to be prepared for whatever might occur. I passed the night without sleep, and in the superintendence of their execution. Had McClellan massed his whole force in column, and advanced it against any point of our line of battle, as was done at Austerlitz by the greatest captain of any age, though the head of his column would have suffered greatly, its momentum would have insured him success, and the occupation of our works about Richmond, and consequently the city might have been his reward. Our relief was therefore great when information reached us that the enemy had evacuated his works and was retreating."[63]

Magruder, in the above statement, unintentionally exposes thefaultiness of Lee's plan, which, had McClellan improved(p. 341) hisopportunity, would have been the loss of the Rebel capital, the routand disorganization of Lee's army, and a historic page whollydifferent from that now on record.

In contrast is Grant's plan of operations. His secret-servicedepartment was managed with rare ability, by men acquainted with theEnglish language, who were adepts in the art of sifting truth fromfalsehood. Grant was well informed as to Lee's numbers, thereinforcements at his disposal, and his movements. He took counsel ofhis courage, never of his fear. In his plan of the Wildernesscampaigns, the series of movements from the Rapidan to the James, wereduly considered before the orders for the advance were given. When hesaw that he could not reach Richmond from the north, he decided tosweep round to the James, but not till he had made it impossible forLee to move upon Washington, by breaking up the Virginia Central andFredericksburg Railroad. McClellan complained that he was deprived ofthe control of McDowell's force at Fredericksburg, which was retainedby the President to cover Washington; but the railroad from Richmondto Manassas was then in running order, with the exception of thebridge across the Rappahannock. Grant's prudence in securingWashington was as marked as his tenacity of purpose to push on towardsRichmond.

The transfer of the Eighteenth Corps from Bermuda Hundred to seizeCold Harbor,—the order for which was given before the army crossedthe Pamunkey,—was a conception as brilliant as that of Lee's in thetransfer of Jackson from the Shenandoah in '62. The march of the armyto the south side of the James, which will be narrated in anotherchapter, was the most striking movement of the campaign, exhibitingthe same quality of genius which had been exhibited at Vicksburg, andwhich has no parallel in the movements of any of the Rebel commandersduring the war.

There was a season of rest while Grant was preparing for the march tothe James. The army needed it. A month had passed, the most terribleof all the months of the war. There had been scarcely an hour of quietfrom the moment when the army broke camp at Culpepper till it reachedCold Harbor. It never can be known how many were killed and(p. 342)wounded in that month of battle. The hospitals of Washington werecrowded. Thousands of slightly wounded were granted leave of absence.Reinforcements were hurried on to fill up the wasted ranks. Lee's losswas nearly as heavy as Grant's. Richmond was overflowing with wounded;all central Virginia was a hospital. Both armies were becomingexhausted.

Lee was the attacking party at the Wilderness, but it was his lastoffensive movement, except as the gauge of battle was given by Grant.

The march from Spottsylvania to Cold Harbor was through a sectionnever before visited by Union troops. At the crossing of the Ny Ifound quarters at a farm-house owned by a feeble, forceless,gray-bearded, black-eyed man. There was constitutionally a want ofstarch in his physical organization. He was free and frank, butshiftless. He owned eighty acres of land, two negroes, an old horse,and a rickety cart. His house was mean, but it was charmingly located,overlooking the broad valley of the Mattapony, and surrounded bylocusts and magnolias. Nature had done a great deal towards making ita paradise, but the owner had been an indifferent steward. Lying uponthe grass beneath the trees, I fell into conversation with theproprietor.

"This is Caroline County, I believe."

"Yes, sir, this is old Caroline,—a county which has sold more negroesdown south than any other in Virginia."

"I was not aware of that; but I remember now a negro song which I usedto hear. The burden of it was,

'I wish I was back in old Caroline.'"

"Quite likely, for the great business of the county has beennigger-raising, and it has been our curse. I never owned only oldPeter and his wife. I wish I didn't own them, for they are old and Ihave got to support them; but how in the world I am to do it I don'tknow, for the soldiers have stripped me of everything."

"Do you mean the Union soldiers?"

"Yes, and ours (Rebels) also. First, my boys were conscripted. I keptthem out as long as I could, but they were(p. 343) obliged to go.Then they took my horses. Then your cavalry came and took all my cornand stole my meat, ransacked the house, seized my flour, killed mypigs and chickens, and here I am, stripped of everything."

"It is pretty hard, but your leaders would have it so."

"I know it, sir, and we are getting our pay for it."

It was frankly spoken, and was the first admission I had heard fromSouthern lips that the South was suffering retribution for the crimeof Secession. It probably did not enter his head that the selling ofslaves, the breaking up of families, the sundering of heart-strings,the cries and tears and prayers of fathers and mothers, the outrages,the whippings, scourgings, branding with hot irons, were also crimesin the sight of Heaven. Broken hearts were nothing to him,—not thathe was naturally worse than other men, but because slavery had bluntedsensibility.

During the march the next day towards the North Anna, I halted at afarm-house. The owner had fled to Richmond in advance of the army,leaving his overseer, a stout, burly, red-faced, tobacco-chewing man.There were a score of old buildings on the premises. It had been anotable plantation, yielding luxuriant harvests of wheat, but theproprietor had turned his attention to the culture of tobacco and thebreeding of negroes. He sold annually a crop of human beings for thesouthern market. The day before our arrival, hearing that the Yankeeswere coming, he hurried forty or fifty souls to Richmond. He intendedto take all,—forty or fifty more,—but the negroes fled to the woods.The overseer did his best to collect them, but in vain. The proprietorraved, and stormed, and became violent in his language and behavior,threatening terrible punishment on all the runaways, but theappearance of a body of Union cavalry put an end to maledictions. Hehad a gang of men and women chained together, and hurried them towardRichmond.

The runaways came out from their hiding-places when they saw theYankees, and advanced fearlessly with open countenances. The firstpleasure of the negroes was to smile from ear to ear, the second togive everybody a drink of water or a piece of hoe-cake, the third topack up their bundles and be in readiness to join the army.

(p. 344) "Are you not afraid of us?"

"Afraid! Why, boss, I's been praying for yer to come; and now yer ishere, thank de Lord."

"Are you not afraid that we shall sell you?"

"No, boss, I isn't. The overseer said you would sell us off to Cuba,to work in the sugar-mill, but we didn't believe him."

Among the servants was a bright mulatto girl, who was dancing,singing, and manifesting her joy in violent demonstration.

"What makes you so happy?" I asked.

"Because you Yankees have come. I can go home now."

"Is not this your home?"

"No. I come from Williamsport in Maryland."

"When did you come from there?"

"Last year. Master sold me. I spect my brother is 'long with the army.He ran away last year. Master was afraid that I should run away, andhe sold me."

The negroes came from all the surrounding plantations. Old men withvenerable beards, horny hands, crippled with hard work and harderusage; aged women, toothless, almost blind, steadying their steps withsticks; little negro boys, driving a team of skeleton steers,—merebones and tendons covered with hide,—or wall-eyed horses, spavined,foundered, and lame, attached to rickety carts and wagons, piled withbeds, tables, chairs, pots and kettles, hens, turkeys, ducks, womenwith infants in their arms, and a sable cloud of children trotting bytheir side.

"Where are you going?" I said to a short, thick-set, gray-bearded oldman, shuffling along the road; his toes bulging from his old boots,and a tattered straw hat on his head,—his gray wool protruding fromthe crown.

"I do'no, boss, where I's going, but I reckon I'll go where the armygoes."

"And leave your old home, your old master, and the place where youhave lived all your days?"

"Yes, boss; master, he's gone. He went to Richmond. Reckon he wentmighty sudden, boss, when he heard you was coming. Thought I'd like togo along with you."

Negroes coming into the lines.

His face streamed with perspiration. He had been sorely afflicted withthe rheumatism, and it was with difficulty that he kept up with thecolumn; but it was not a hard matter to(p. 345) read the emotions ofhis heart. He was marching towards freedom. Suddenly a light hadshined upon him. Hope had quickened in his soul. He had a vague ideaof what was before him. He had broken loose from all which he had beenaccustomed to call his own,—his cabin, a mud-chinked structure, withthe ground for a floor, his garden patch,—to go out, in his old age,wholly unprovided for, yet trusting in God that there would be foodand raiment on the other side of Jordan.

It was a Jordan to them. It was the Sabbath-day,—bright, clear, calm,and delightful. There was a crowd of several hundred colored people ata deserted farm-house.

"Will it disturb you if we have a little singing? You see we feel sohappy to-day that we would like to praise the Lord."

It was the request of a middle-aged woman.

"Not in the least. I should like to hear you."

In a few moments a crowd had assembled in one of the rooms. A stoutyoung man, black, bright-eyed, thick-wooled, took the centre of theroom. The women and girls, dressed in their best clothes, which theyhad put on to make their exodus from bondage in the best possiblemanner, stood in circles round him. The young man began to dance. Hejumped up, clapped his hands, slapped his thighs, whirled round,stamped upon the floor.

"Sisters, let us bless the Lord. Sisters, join in the chorus," hesaid, and led off with a kind of recitative, improvised as theexcitement gave him utterance. From my note-book I select a fewlines:—

(p. 346) And so it went on for a half-hour, without cessation, alldancing, clapping their hands, tossing their heads. It was the ecstasyof action. It was a joy not to be uttered, but demonstrated. The oldhouse partook of their rejoicing. It rang with their jubilant shouts,and shook in all its joints.

I stood an interested spectator. One woman, well dressed, intelligent,refined in her deportment, modest in her manner, said, "It is one wayin which we worship, sir. It is our first day of freedom."

The first day of freedom! Behind her were years of suffering,hardship, unrequited toil, heartaches, darkness, no hope of recompenseor of light in this life, but a changeless future. Death, aforetime,was their only deliverer. For them there was hope only in the grave.But suddenly Hope had advanced from eternity into time. They need notwait for death; in life they could be free. Is it a wonder that theyexhibited extravagant joy?

Apart from the dancers was a woman with light hair, hazel eyes, andfair complexion. She sat upon the broad steps of the piazza, andlooked out upon the fields, or rather into the air, unmindful of thecrowd, the dance, or the shouting. Her features were so nearly of theAnglo-Saxon type that it required a second look to assure one thatthere was African blood in her veins. She alone of all the crowd wassad in spirit. She evidently had no heart to join in the generaljubilee.

"Where did you come from?" I asked.

"From Caroline County."

Almost every one else would have said, "From old Caroline." There wasno trace of the negro dialect, more than you hear from all classes inthe South, for slavery has left its taint upon the language; it sparesnothing, but is remorseless in its corrupting influences.

"You do not join in the song and dance," I said.

"No, sir."

Most of them would have said "master" or "boss."

"I should think you would want to dance on your first night offreedom, if ever."

"I don't dance, sir, in that way."

(p. 347) "Was your master kind to you?"

"Yes, sir; but he sold my husband and children down South."

The secret of her sadness was out.

"Where are you going? or where do you expect to go?"

"I don't know, sir, and I don't care where I go."

The conversation ran on for some minutes. She manifested no animation,and did not once raise her eyes, but kept them fixed on vacancy.Husband and children sold, gone forever,—there was nothing in life tocharm her. Even the prospect of freedom, with its undefined joys andpleasures, its soul-stirring expectations, raising the hopes of thosearound her, moved her not.

Life was a blank. She had lived in her master's family, and wasintelligent. She was the daughter of her master. She was high-toned inher feelings. The dancing and shouting of those around her weredistasteful. It was to her more barbaric than Christian. She was aloneamong them. She felt her degradation. Freedom could not give her abirthright among the free. The daughter of her master! It was gall andwormwood; and he, her father, had sold her husband and hisgrandchildren!

I had read of such things. But one needs to come in contact withslavery, to feel how utterly loathsome and hateful it is. There wasthe broken-hearted victim, so bruised that not freedom itself, neitherthe ecstasy of those around her, could awaken an emotion of joy. Hourafter hour the festivities went on, but there she sat upon the step,looking down the desolate years gone by, or into a dreamless, hopelessfuture.

It was late at night before the dancers ceased, and then they stopped,not because of a surfeit of joy, but because the time had come forsilence in the camp. It was their first Sabbath of freedom, and likethe great king of Israel, upon the recovery of the ark of God, theydanced before the Lord with all their might.

We had a hard, dusty ride from the encampment at Mongohick to thePamunkey. It was glorious, however, in the early morning to sweepalong the winding forest-road, with the head-quarters' flag inadvance. Wherever its silken folds were unfurled, there the twocommanders might be found,—General Meade, commanding the Army of thePotomac, and General(p. 348) Grant, the commander of all the forcesof the Union in the field. We passed the long line of troops, crossedthe Pamunkey upon a pontoon bridge, rode a mile or two across theverdant intervale, and halted beneath the oaks, magnolias, andbuttonwoods of an old Virginia mansion. The edifice was reared acentury ago. It was of wood, stately and substantial. How luxuriousthe surrounding shade; the smooth lawn, the rolled pathways borderedby box, with moss-roses, honeysuckle, and jessamines scenting the air,and the daisies dotting the greensward! The sweep of openland,—viewing it from the wide portico; the long reach of cultivatedgrounds; acres of wheat rolling in the breeze, like waves of theocean; meadow-lands, smooth and fair; distant groves andwoodlands,—how magnificent! It was an old estate, inherited bysuccessive generations,—by those whose pride it had been to keep thepaternal acres in the family name. But the sons had all gone. Adaughter was the last heir. She gave her hand, and heart, and the oldhomestead,—sheep, horses, a great stock of bovines, and a hundrednegroes or more,—to her husband. The family name became extinct, andthe homestead of seven or eight generations passed into the hands ofone bearing another name.

When McClellan was on the Peninsula, the shadow of the war-cloud sweptpast the place. One or two negroes ran away, but at that time theywere not tolerated in camp. The campaign of 1862 left the estateunharmed. But Sheridan's cavalry, followed by the Sixth Corps, in itsmagnificent march from the North Anna, had suddenly and unexpectedlydisturbed the security of the old plantation. There was a rattlingfire from carbines, a fierce fight, men wounded and dead, brokenfences, trodden fields of wheat and clover; ransacked stables,corn-bins, meat-houses, and a swift disappearing of live stock ofevery description.

Foraging.

But to go back a little. The proprietor of this estate ardentlyespoused Secession. His wife was as earnest as he. They hated theNorth. They loved the institutions and principles of the South. Theysold their surplus negroes in the Richmond market. They partedhusbands and wives, tore children from the arms of their mothers,and separated them forever. They lived(p. 349) on unrequited labor,and grew rich through the breeding of human flesh for the market.

When the war commenced, the owner of this magnificent estate enlistedin the army and was made a Colonel of cavalry. He furnished suppliesand kept open house for his comrades in arms; but he fell in a cavalryengagement on the Rappahannock, in October, 1863, leaving a wife andthree young children. The advance of the army, its sudden appearanceon the Pamunkey, left Mrs. —-- no time to remove her personal estate,or to send her negroes to Richmond for safe keeping. Fitz-Hugh Leedisputed Sheridan's advance. The fighting began on this estate.Charges by squadrons and regiments were made through the corn-fields.Horses, cattle, hogs, sheep, were seized by the cavalrymen. Thegarden, filled with young vegetables, was spoiled. In an hour therewas complete desolation. The hundred negroes—cook, steward,chambermaid, house and field hands, old and young—all left their workand followed the army. Mrs. —-- was left to do her own work. Theparlors of the stately mansion were taken by the surgeons for ahospital. The change which Mrs. —-- experienced was from affluence toabject poverty, from power to sudden helplessness.

Passing by one of the negro cabins on the estate, I saw a middle-agedcolored woman packing a bundle.

"Are you going to move?" I asked.

"Yes, sir; I am going to follow the army."

"What for? Where will you go?"

"I want to go to Washington, to find my husband. He ran away awhileago, and is at work in Washington."

"Do you think it right, auntie, to leave your mistress, who has takencare of you so long?"

She had been busy with her bundle, but stopped now and stood erectbefore me, her hands on her hips. Her black eyes flashed.

"Taken care of me! What did she ever do for me? Haven't I been hercook for more than thirty years? Haven't I cooked every meal she everate in that house? What has she done for me in return? She has sold mychildren down South, one after another. She has whipped me when Icried for them. She has treated me like a hog, sir! Yes, sir, like ahog!"

(p. 350) She resumed her work of preparation for leaving. That nightshe and her remaining children joined the thousands of colored peoplewho had already taken sudden leave of their masters.

Returning to the mansion to see the wounded, I met Mrs. —-- in thehall. She was tall, robust, dignified. She evidently did not fullyrealize the great change which had taken place in her affairs. Thechange was not complete at that moment. The colored steward was there,hat in hand; obsequious, bowing politely, and obeying all commands. Ahalf-hour before I had seen him in the cook's cabin, makingarrangements for leaving the premises, and a half-hour later he was onhis way toward freedom.

"I wish I had gone to Richmond," said the lady. "This is terrible,terrible! They have taken all my provisions, all my horses and cattle.My servants are going. What shall I do?" She sank upon the sofa, andfor a moment gave way to her feelings.

"You are better off here than you would be there, with the city fullof wounded, and scant supplies in the market," I remarked.

"You are right, sir. What could I do with my three little childrenthere? Yet how I am to live here I don't know. When will this terriblewar come to an end?"

But enough of this scene. I have introduced it because it is real, andbecause it is but one of many. There are hundreds of Southern homeswhere the change has been equally great. Secession is not what theywho started it thought it would be. The penalties for crime alwayscome, sooner or later. God's scales are correctly balanced. He makesall things even. For every tear wrung from the slave by injustice, forevery broken heart, for the weeping and wailing of mothers for theirbabes sold to the far-off South, for every wrong there is retribution

"Though the mills of God grind slowly,
Yet they grind exceeding small;
Though with patience he stands waiting,
With exactness grinds he all."

(p. 351) CHAPTER XX.
TO PETERSBURG.

General Grant had tried to break Lee's lines at Cold Harbor, and hadbeen repulsed with great loss. The Richmond newspapers were jubilant."He is floundering in the swamps of Chickahominy. He has reached thegraveyard of Yankee armies," said they.

The newspapers opposed to the war and in sympathy with the Rebellion,in the North, made Cold Harbor an occasion for glorifying GeneralMcClellan, their candidate for the Presidency.

"Grant is a butcher. He has sacrificed a hundred thousand lives. Heacts under Lincoln's orders. Elect McClellan, and we shall havepeace."

The army was dejected, but did not lose heart. It had been repulsed,had lost many brave men, but it had pushed Lee from the Wilderness toRichmond.

I conversed freely with the soldiers, and rarely found one who had notfull confidence in the ability of General Grant. Round their bivouacfires the history of the Army of the Potomac was freely discussed. Theold soldiers, who had fought in the first Cold Harbor battle,remembered how twenty-seven thousand men held Lee at bay on thatground through the long hours of the first of the seven days' fight infront of Richmond; how McClellan kept sixty thousand men on the southbank of the Chickahominy, inactive,—sending a brigade to their aidwhen too late to be of use. They recalled the scenes of those terribledemoralizing days,—how McClellan kept out of harm's way. When thebattle was raging on the north bank of the Chickahominy he was southof it; when Sumner was holding Savage Station, McClellan was acrossWhite Oak Swamp; when Glendale was fought, and the Rebels under Hillrouted, McClellan was at Malvern, and while Magruder(p. 352) wasmadly pushing his troops on to be slaughtered at Malvern, McClellanwas on board a gunboat; how in the night the whole army was orderedaway from a victorious field, from an impregnable position, while Leewas fleeing towards Richmond! Soldiers who had come later into theservice remembered the failure at Fredericksburg and the retreat fromChancellorsville, and in contrast saw that Grant had pluck. It is aquality of character which soldiers admire. They could also see thatthere was system in his movements. They sometimes spoke of him as theGrand Flanker. "He'll flank Lee out of Richmond yet; see if he don't,"said a soldier.

If Grant had failed to move Lee from his position in a direct attack,Lee also had failed to drive Grant from the junction of the roads atold Cold Harbor,—an important point, as, by opening the railroad fromWhite House, he could easily bring up his supplies. His army wasintact,—not divided, as McClellan's had been by the dark and sluggishChickahominy.

"What will Grant do?" was a question often discussed around themess-tables of brigadiers, colonels, and captains,—by men who werebound to obey all orders, but who nevertheless had their own ideas asto the best method of conducting the campaign. The Lieutenant-Generalhad the whole plan of operations settled for him many times. It wasamusing to see the strategic points indicated on the maps.

"He can swing in north of the city upon the high lands. TheChickahominy swamps don't extend above Mechanicsville," said one.

"But how will he get his supplies?"

"Open the Fredericksburg road. It is open now from Aquia Creek to theRappahannock."

But Grant, instead of opening the road, determined to break it upcompletely, also the Virginia Central, which runs to Gordonsville, toprevent Lee from moving upon Washington. Up to this time all of hismovements, while they were upon Lee's flank, had not uncovered thatcity; but now Washington would take care of itself.

The plan of the campaign had been well matured by General Grantbefore he started from Culpepper. He says:—

(p. 353) "My idea from the start had been to beat the enemy north of Richmond if possible. Then after destroying his lines of communication north of the James River, to transfer the army to the south side, and besiege Lee in Richmond, or follow him south if he should retreat."[64]

Grant was not willing to sacrifice his men. He resolved to transferhis army south of the James, and cut Lee's communications. Gregg wassent in advance, with the cavalry belonging to the Army of thePotomac, crossing the Chickahominy, and making a rapid movement by theleft flank.

Lee evidently did not mistrust Grant's intention,—judging from thedisposition he made of his troops, and the tardiness with which hemarched to counteract the movement. The transfer of the EighteenthCorps from Bermuda Hundred to Cold Harbor undoubtedly had its effectupon Lee's calculations. It was an indication that Grant intended tokeep Washington covered.

Hunter at this time was advancing from the West. Sheridan, who hadbeen guarding the road to White House, was withdrawn, and sent withtwo divisions of his cavalry up the Virginia Central road toGordonsville, hoping to meet Hunter at Charlottesville; but Hunter hadmoved on Lynchburg, and the union of the forces was not effected.Sheridan's movement, however, threw dust in the eyes of Lee.

Grant knew that Petersburg was held by a handful of Rebeltroops,—Wise's Legion. The citizens had been organized into abattalion, but the place could be taken by surprise. Strong earthworkshad been thrown up around the city early in the war, but the troops inthe city were not sufficient to man them. Grant believed that theplace could be seized without difficulty; and taking a steamer atWhite House went to Bermuda Hundred, held a conference with Butler,who sent Gillmore with thirty-five hundred men across the Appomattox,near the Point of Rocks, to attack the city from the east. At the sametime, Kautz's division of cavalry was sent, by a long detour, acrossthe Norfolk Railroad, to enter the town from the south. Having madethese arrangements, Grant returned to his army, which had been lyingbehind its intrenchments at Cold Harbor.

(p. 354) Preparations had been quietly making for a rapid march. TheSecond Corps had been moved down towards the Chickahominy. The Fifthwas sent to Despatch Station. Gregg and Torbett, with their divisionsof cavalry, were placed at Bottom's Bridge. The Rebel pickets werethere on watch. Meanwhile workmen were busily engaged in opening therailroad. Lee must have known that Grant had a new movement under way,the precise nature of which it was difficult to understand.

The movement of Gillmore was a disgraceful failure. He crossed theAppomattox on the evening of the 10th of June, without molestation,marched up within sight of the city spires, discovered a formidableline of breastworks, and without making an attack, turned about andretired to Bermuda Hundred. Kautz, on the contrary, after a rapidmovement, entered the city from the south, but Gillmore havingretreated, could not hold it, and was obliged to retire.

Grant was justly indignant when he heard of the failure. It was agolden opportunity lost. Gillmore and Kautz could have taken and heldthe place till the arrival of reinforcements. Gillmore was whollyresponsible for the failure. Grant once more hurried to BermudaHundred, to superintend in a second movement, leaving Meade to conductthe army from Cold Harbor to the James.

The grand movement from the north of Richmond, by which the whole armywas placed south of that city, was begun on the 12th, in the evening.Wilson's division of cavalry was thrown across the Chickahominy, andsent to seize Long Bridge in White Oak Swamp. The Fifth Corpsfollowed. The Rebels struck the Fifth Corps in flank, but Crawfordrepulsed them. The Second Corps followed the Fifth. The Sixth andNinth crossed at Jones's Bridge, while the fifty miles of wagon trainsswung far to the east and crossed the swamp fifteen miles below. Greggcovered the flank of the army with his cavalry, concealing themovement. The men had a hard time, being attacked constantly by theRebel cavalry and infantry. It was of the utmost importance to Lee toknow where Grant intended to strike, whether north of the James, bythe Charles City and New Market roads, or across the James at(p. 355) Dutch Gap, joining his forces with Butler's, or whether hismovement was directly upon Petersburg.

Lee moved on the inner circle with great caution.

The Eighteenth Corps took water transportation from White House, andarrived at Bermuda Hundred at midnight on the 14th. Grant was there.He ordered General Smith to proceed at once against Petersburg. Ifsuccessful in the seizure of that place, Lee would be compelled toleave Richmond. It was in the line of his direct communication withthe South. Losing that place, he would have only the Danville road,and Grant would soon deprive him of that. The Appomattox would beGrant's line of defence. Seizing it Grant could bide his time. Hecould become a patient watcher, and Lee would be a victim tocircumstances.

Grant was quick to see the advantages to be gained. Lee was slower inarriving at a perception of the fatal consequences to himself whichwould result from the loss of the place; but when awakened to a senseof his danger, acted with great energy. On the other hand, Smith, whowas intrusted with the execution of the enterprise, was dilatory inthe execution. Birney in part is to be held responsible for the delayin the execution of the order.

"Push on and capture the place at all hazards! You shall have thewhole army to reinforce you," said Grant to Smith. Grant was in suchhaste to have Smith move, that he did not stop to write the order. Hebelieved that Smith could reach Petersburg before Lee could make hisdetour through Richmond.

A. P. Hill had already been thrown south of Richmond, and was in frontof Butler. The scouts up the Appomattox reported the rumbling of heavytrains along the Richmond and Petersburg railroad. Lee was putting histroops into the cars. The dash of Kautz, and the movement of Gillmoreup to the entrenchments, and his retirement without an attack, hadresulted in the manning of the Petersburg batteries. A brigade hadbeen thrown down towards City Point, five miles from Petersburg. Soonafter daylight the cavalry came upon the Rebel pickets, by the CityPoint railroad, beyond which they found the Rebels with two cannonbehind rifle-pits, in the centre of an open field on Bailey's farm.

(p. 356) Hinks's division of the Eighteenth Corps was composed ofcolored troops, who had never been under fire. Would they fight? Thatwas the important question. After a reconnoissance of the position byGeneral Hinks, the troops were formed for an assault. The Rebel cannonopened. The sons of Africa did not flinch, but took their positionswith deliberation. They had been slaves; they stood face to face withtheir former masters, or with their representatives. The flag in frontof them waving in the morning breeze was the emblem of oppression; thebanner above them was the flag of the free. Would an abject, servilerace, kept in chains four thousand years, assert their manhood?Interesting the problem. Their brothers had given the lie to theassertion of the white man, that negroes wouldn't fight, at Wagner andPort Hudson. Would they falter?

The Rebels were on a knoll in the field, and had a clear sweep of allthe approaches. The advancing troops must come out from the woods,rush up the slope, and carry it at the point of the bayonet, receivingthe tempest of musketry and canister.

Hinks deployed his line. At the word of command the colored menstepped out from the woods, and stood before the enemy. They gave avolley, and received one in return. Shells crashed through them, but,unheeding the storm, with a yell they started up the slope upon therun. They received one charge of canister, one scathing volley ofmusketry. Seventy of their number went down, but the living hundredsrushed on. The Rebels did not wait their coming, but fled towardsPetersburg, leaving one of the pieces of artillery in the hands oftheir assailants, who leaped over the works, turned it in a twinkling,but were not able to fire upon the retreating foe, fleeing inconsternation towards the main line of entrenchments two miles east ofthe city.

The colored troops were wild with joy. They embraced the capturedcannon with affectionate enthusiasm, patting it as if it were animate,and could appreciate the endearment.

"Every soldier of the colored division was two inches taller for thatachievement," said an officer describing it. These regiments were theFifth and Twenty-Second United States colored troops, who deservehonorable mention in history.

(p. 357) Brooks's division now moved up. Martindale was approachingPetersburg by the river road. By noon the whole corps was in front ofthe main line of works. Martindale was on the right, by the river,Brooks in the centre, Hinks on the left, with Kautz's division ofcavalry sweeping down to the Jerusalem road, which enters Petersburgfrom the southeast.

Smith delayed unaccountably to make the attack. It was a pricelessmoment. A reconnoissance showed a line of strong works, in which wereeighteen pieces of field artillery. The forts were well built, andconnected with breastworks, but the Rebels had not soldiers enough toman them. The citizens of Petersburg had been called out to hold thetown. It is evident that Smith might just as well have accomplished atone o'clock what was achieved at sunset. He was a brave officer,fearless in battle, an engineer of ability, reckless of danger, butfailed to see the necessity of impetuous action. The value of time wasleft out of his calculations.

General Grant thus speaks of Smith's operations:—

"General Smith got off as directed, and confronted the enemy's pickets near Petersburg before daylight next morning, but for some reason that I have never been able to satisfactorily understand, did not get ready to assault his main lines until near sundown. Then, with a part of his command only, he made the assault, and carried the lines northeast of Petersburg from the Appomattox River, for a distance of over two and a half miles, capturing fifteen pieces of artillery and three hundred prisoners. This was about seven P. M."[65]

The main road leading east from Petersburg ascends a hill two milesout, upon the top of which stands the house of Mr. Dunn. The house isa few rods south of the road. In front of it is a fort; another south;a third north, and other works, with heavy embankments and deepditches. The woods in front of the house of Mr. Dunn were cut down in1862, when McClellan was on the Peninsula, and the trunks of thetrees, blackened by fire, are lying there still, forming an abatis.The ground is nearly level, and the Rebel riflemen have a fair view ofthe entire field. It is three hundred and sixty paces from the fortsto the woods, in the edge of which Hinks's(p. 358) division ofcolored troops are lying. The guns in the forts by the house of Mr.Dunn give a direct front fire, while those by the house of Mr. Osbornon the north enfilade the line. Brooks is in position to move upon thebatteries by Osborn's house, while Martindale is to advance up therailroad.

The troops were placed in line for the attack not far from oneo'clock. They were exposed to the fire of the artillery. Hinksimpatiently waited for orders. Two o'clock passed. The shells from theRebel batteries were doing damage.

"Lie down!" said he to his men. They obeyed, and were somewhatsheltered.

Three o'clock! four o'clock,—five,—still no orders. Duncan's brigadewas lying on both sides of the road, a short distance north ofBuffum's house.

At length the word was given. Duncan threw forward a cloud ofskirmishers. The Rebels opened with renewed vigor from the batteries;and the infantry, resting their muskets over the breastworks, fired atwill and with great accuracy of aim. Men dropped from the advancingranks. It was of little use to fire in return. "On! push on!" was theorder. Hinks and Duncan both entered heartily into the movement. Theyhad chafed all the afternoon at the delay; but had been admiringobservers of the conduct of the troops under the fire of shells.

The skirmishers advanced quickly within close range, followed by themain line, moving more slowly over the fallen timber. The skirmishersgave a yell and pushed on, without waiting for the main body. Theyleaped into the ditches in front of the breastworks, and climbed ontheir hands and knees up the steep embankments. The Rebels above firedinto their faces, and many a brave fellow rolled back dead to thebottom.

The column, perceiving the advance of their comrades, and catching theenthusiasm, broke into a run, rushing upon the forts, sweeping roundthe curtains, scaling the breastworks, and dashing madly at theRebels, who fled towards Petersburg. Brooks's men at the same momentswarmed over the embankments by Osborn's, while Martindale advancedalong the railroad. Fifteen pieces and three hundred men werecaptured, of which two thirds of the prisoners and nine cannon were(p. 359) taken by the colored troops, who wheeled the guns instantlyupon the enemy, and then, seizing the spades and shovels which theRebels had left behind, reversed the fortifications and made them astronghold.

Through the months which followed the colored troops looked back tothis exploit with pride. They never were weary of talking aboutit,—how they advanced, how they leaped over the intrenchments, howthe Rebels went down the hill upon the run.

Smith had possession of the fortifications at 7 P. M. He ought to havemoved on. There were no other works between him and Petersburg. Not abrigade from Lee had reached the city, and the disaster was calculatedto demoralize the Rebel soldiers. The Second Corps had arrived.Birney, who had the advance of that corps, ought to have been on theground by mid-afternoon, and Smith had delayed the assault on hisaccount. He expected Birney to appear on his left, and attack by theJerusalem plank-road; but that officer, by taking the wrong road, wentseveral miles out of his way. Had he been in position at the timeSmith expected him, the attack would have been made at 3 o'clockinstead of at 7.

Smith's delay to follow up the advantage gained was an error. GeneralGrant says:—

"Between the line thus captured and Petersburg there were no other works, and there was no evidence that the enemy had reinforced Petersburg with a single brigade from any source. The night was clear,—the moon shining brightly,—and favorable to further operations. General Hancock, with two divisions of the Second Corps, had reached General Smith just after dark, and offered the service of these troops as he (Smith) might wish, waiving rank to the named commander, who, he naturally supposed, knew best the position of affairs. But instead of taking these troops and pushing on at once into Petersburg, he requested General Hancock to relieve a part of his line in the captured works, which was done before midnight."[66]

Not till the Rebel outpost on Bailey's farm fell into the hands of thecolored troops did Lee fully comprehend Grant's movement. Then therewere lively movements in the Rebel ranks. All of the railroad cars inRichmond were put upon the road.(p. 360) Brigades were hurriedthrough the streets, piled into the cars, and sent whirling towardsPetersburg.

While Lee was watching the Charles City and Newmarket roads, north ofthe James, expecting Grant in that direction, Butler sent GeneralTerry, with a portion of the Tenth Corps, on a reconnoissance in frontof Bermuda Hundred. Terry encountered the Rebel pickets, drove themin, reached the main line, attacked vigorously, broke through,carrying all before him, and pushed on to the railroad at PortWalthall Junction, cut down the telegraph, and tore up the track.

This was an advantage not expected by Grant, who at once ordered twodivisions of the Sixth Corps, under Wright, to report to Butler atBermuda Hundred; but that officer, instead of moving rapidly, advancedleisurely, and even halted awhile.

Terry was attacked by A. P. Hill and obliged to fall back. Grant hadthe mortification of learning in the evening that, through thedilatory movements of the troops under Smith and Wright, his plans hadfailed.

In the counsels of the Almighty the time for final victory had notcome. God reigns, but men act freely nevertheless. There have beennumerous instances during the war where great events hung on littlethings. An interesting chapter might be written of the occasions wherethe scales were seemingly evenly balanced, and where, to the eye offaith, the breath of the Almighty turned them for the time.

At Bull Run the victory was lost to the Union arms through the mistakeof Captain Barry.[67] At Pittsburg Landing, if Johnston had attackedfrom the northwest instead of the southwest,—if he had deflected hisarmy a mile,—far different, in all human probability, would have beenthe result of that battle.

Was the arrival of the Monitor in Hampton Roads on that morning, afterthe havoc made by the Merrimac, accidental? How providential rather!How singular, if not a providence, that the wind should blow so wildlyfrom the southwest on that night of the withdrawal of the army fromFredericksburg, wafting the rumbling of Burnside's artillery and thetramp of a hundred thousand men away from the listening ears of the(p. 361) enemy within close musket-shot! Events which turn the scalesaccording to our desires we are inclined to count as specialprovidences: but the disaster at Bull Run, the sitting down ofMcClellan in the mud at Yorktown; the lost opportunities for movingupon Richmond after Williamsburg and Fair Oaks; also, while the battlewas raging at Gaines's Mills and at Glendale; the pusillanimousretreat from Malvern; the inaction at Antietam; Hooker's retreat fromChancellorsville,—from Lee, who also was in retreat,—areinexplicable events. Meade's waiting at Boonsboro, Lee's escape,Gillmore's unexplained turning back from Petersburg, Wright's haltingwhen everything depended on haste, Smith's delay,—all of these aremysterious providences to us, though to the Rebels they were at thetime plain interpositions of God. God's system is reciprocal;everything has its use, everything is for a purpose. We read blindly,but to reason and faith there can be but one result,—theestablishment of justice and righteousness between man and man and hisMaker. There must be a righting of every wrong, an atonement for everycrime.

"The laws of changeless justice bind
Oppressor with oppressed;
And, close as sin and suffering joined,
We march to fate abreast."

It must have been evident to most observers, that as the warprogressed men were brought to a recognition of God, as an overrulingpower in the mighty conflict. In the first uprising of the peoplethere was pure, intense patriotism. The battle of Bull Run stung theloyal masses of the North, and filled them with a determination toredeem their tarnished honor. The failure of the Peninsular campaigns,the terrible disasters in 1862, crushed and bruised men's spirits.They began to talk of giving freedom to the slave as well as of therestoration of the Union.

"My paramount object is to save the Union, and not either to save ordestroy slavery," wrote President Lincoln to Horace Greeley, August22d, 1862, reflecting doubtless the feelings of nearly a majority ofthe people. Whittier had already expressed, in the lines quoted onpages 41, 42, the feelings of those who saw that slavery or thenation must die.

(p. 362) Two years passed, and Abraham Lincoln gave utterance to othersentiments in his second inaugural address to the people. Disaster,suffering, a view of Gettysburg battle-field, the consecration of thatcemetery as the hallowed resting-place of the patriotic dead, hadgiven him a clear insight of God's truth. Thus spoke he from the stepsof the Capitol:—

"The Almighty has his own purposes. Woe unto the world because of offences! for it must needs be that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh! If we shall suppose that American slavery is one of these offences, which in the providence of God must needs come, but which, having continued through his appointed time, he now wills to remove, and that he gives to both North and South this terrible war as the woe due to those by whom the offence came, shall we discern therein any departure from those Divine attributes which the believers in a living God always ascribe to him? Fondly do we hope, fervently do we pray, that the mighty scourge of war may speedily pass away. Yet if God wills that it continue until all the wealth piled by the bondman's two hundred and fifty years of unrequited toil shall be sunk, and until every drop of blood drawn with the lash shall be paid by another drawn by the sword, as was said three thousand years ago, so still must it be said, the judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether."

It was the recognition of these principles that made the peoplepatient under the severe afflictions, the disasters, the failures.Fathers and mothers, weeping for their sons slain in battle, said totheir hearts, "Be still!" for they saw that God was leading thepeople, through suffering, to recognize justice and righteousness asthe Republic,—that thus he was saving the nation from perdition.

The heroism of the colored soldiers, and their splendid achievements,won the respect of the army. Their patriotism was as sublime, theircourage as noble, as that of their whiter-hued comrades boastingAnglo-Saxon blood, nurtured and refined by centuries of civilization.

On the morning after the battle, an officer, passing through thehospital, came upon a colored soldier who had lost his left leg.

"Well, my boy, I see that you have lost a leg for glory," said theofficer.

One day's labor, one day's income.

(p. 363) "No, sir; I have not lost it for glory, but for theelevation of my race!"

It was a reply worthy of historic record, to be read, through thecoming centuries, by every sable son of Africa, and by every man, ofwhatever lineage or clime, struggling to better his condition.

The negroes manifested their humanity as well as their patriotism.

"While the battle was raging," said General Hinks, "I saw two woundednegroes helping a Rebel prisoner, who was more severely wounded, tothe rear."

"Give the water to my suffering soldiers," said the wounded PhilipSidney. The incident stands upon the historic page, and has beenrehearsed in story and song, as worthy of admiration. Shall not thisact of two unknown colored soldiers also have a place in history?

The time, we trust, will come when men will be rated for what they areworth,—when superiority will consist, not in brute force, but inmoral qualities. The slaveholders of the South, at the beginning ofthe war, esteemed themselves superior to the men of the North, andimmeasurably above their slaves; but in contrast,—to the shame of theslaveholders,—stands the massacre at Fort Pillow and the humanity ofthe colored soldiers in front of Petersburg.

On the night of the 16th, Burnside arrived with the Ninth Corps.Neill's division of the Sixth also arrived. Burnside attacked theRebels, but was repulsed. The lines were reconnoitred, and it wasdetermined to make a second assault.

About half a mile south of the house of Mr. Dunn was the residence ofMr. Shand, held by the Rebels. During the cannonade which preceded theassault, a Rebel officer entered the house and sat down to play apiano. Suddenly he found himself sitting on the floor, the stoolhaving been knocked away by a solid shot, without injury to himself.

The house was a large two-story structure, fronting east, paintedwhite, with great chimneys at either end, shaded by buttonwoods andgum-trees, with a peach-orchard in rear. Fifty paces from thefront-door was a narrow ravine, fifteen(p. 364) or twenty feet deep,with a brook, fed by springs, trickling northward. West of the house,about the same distance, was another brook, the two joining abouttwenty rods north of the house. A Rebel brigade held this tongue ofland, with four guns beneath the peach-trees. Their main line ofbreastworks was along the edge of the ravine east of the house. South,and on higher ground, was a redan,—a strong work with two guns, whichenfiladed the ravine. Yet General Burnside thought that if he couldget his troops into position, unperceived, he could take the tongue ofland, which would break the Rebel line and compel them to evacuate theredan. Several attempts had been made by the Second Corps to break theline farther north, but without avail. This movement, if notsuccessful, would be attended with great loss; nevertheless, it wasdetermined to make the assault.

It was past midnight when General Potter led his division of the Ninthdown into the ravine. The soldiers threw aside their knapsacks,haversacks, tin plates and cups, and moved stealthily. Not a word wasspoken. The watches of the officers in command had been set to asecond. They reached the ravine where the pickets were stationed, andmoved south, keeping close under the bank. Above them, not fifteenpaces distant, were the Rebel pickets, lying behind a bank of sand.

If their listening ears caught the sound of a movement in the ravine,they gave no alarm, and the troops took their positions undisturbed.The moon was full. Light clouds floated in the sky. Not a sound, savethe distant rumble of wagons, or an occasional shot from the pickets,broke the silence of the night. The attacking column was composed ofGriffin's and Curtin's brigades,—Griffin on the right. He had theSeventeenth Vermont and Eleventh New Hampshire in his front line, andthe Ninth New Hampshire and Thirty-Second Maine in the second. Curtinhad six regiments,—the Thirty-Sixth Massachusetts, and theForty-Fifth and Forty-Eighth Pennsylvania, in his front line; theSeventh Rhode Island, Twelfth New York, and Fifty-Eighth Massachusettsin his second line.

Petersburg July 17th 1864.

The soldiers were worn with hard marching and constant fighting, andhad but just arrived from City Point, yet they took their positionswithout flinching. The officers gazed at(p. 365) the hands of theirwatches in the moonlight, and saw them move on to the appointedtime,—fifteen minutes past three. Twenty paces,—a spring up thesteep bank would carry the men to the Rebel pickets; fifty paces tothe muzzles of the enemy's guns.

"All ready!" was whispered from man to man. They rose from the grounderect. Not a gun-lock clicked. The bayonet was to do the work.

"Hurrah!" The lines rise like waves of the sea. There are stragglingshots from the Rebel pickets, four flashes of light from the Rebelcannon by the house, two more from the redan, one volley from theinfantry, wildly aimed, doing little damage. On,—up to thebreastworks! Over them, seizing the guns! A minute has passed. Fourguns, six hundred and fifty prisoners, fifteen hundred muskets, andfour stands of colors are the trophies. The Rebel line is broken. Thegreat point is gained, compelling Lee to abandon the ground which hehas held so tenaciously.

In the Fifty-Seventh Massachusetts was a soldier named Edward M.Schneider. When the regiment was formed he was a student in PhillipsAcademy, Andover. From motives of patriotism, against the wishes offriends, he left the literature of the ancients and the history of thepast, to become an actor in the present and to do what he could forfuture good. His father is the well-known missionary of the AmericanBoard at Aintab, Turkey.

On the march from Annapolis, though but seventeen years old, andunaccustomed to hardship, he kept his place in the ranks, from theencampment by the waters of the Chesapeake to the North Anna, where hewas slightly wounded. The surgeons sent him to Port Royal fortransportation to Washington, but of his own accord he returned tohis regiment, joining it at(p. 366) Cold Harbor. While preparing forthe charge upon the enemy's works, on the 17th instant, he said to thechaplain,—

"I intend to be the first one to enter their breastworks."

The brave young soldier tried to make good his words, leading thecharge.

He was almost there,—not quite: almost near enough to feel the hotflash of the Rebel musketry in his face; near enough to be coveredwith sulphurous clouds from the cannon, when he fell, shot through thebody.

He was carried to the hospital, with six hundred and fifty of hisdivision comrades; but lay all night with his wound undressed, waitinghis turn without a murmur. The chaplain looked at his wound.

"What do you think of it?"

Seeing that it was mortal, the chaplain was overcome with emotion. Heremembered the last injunction of the young soldier's sister: "Icommit him to your care."

The young hero interpreted the meaning of the tears,—that there wasno hope.

"Do not weep," said he; "it is God's will. I wish you to write to myfather, and tell him that I have tried to do my duty to my country andto God."

He disposed of his few effects, giving ten dollars to the ChristianCommission, twenty dollars to the American Board, and trifles to hisfriends. Then, in the simplicity of his heart, said,—

"I have a good many friends, schoolmates, and companions. They willwant to know where I am,—how I am getting on. You can let them knowthat I am gone, and that I die content. And, chaplain, the boys in theregiment,—I want you to tell them to stand by the dear old flag! Andthere is my brother in the navy,—write to him and tell him to standby the flag and cling to the cross of Christ!"

The surgeon examined the wound.

"It is my duty to tell you that you will soon go home," said he.

"Yes, doctor, I am going home. I am not afraid to die. I don't knowhow the valley will be when I get to it, but it is all bright now."

(p. 367) Then, gathering up his waning strength, he repeated the verseoften sung by the soldiers, who, amid all the whirl and excitement ofthe camp and battle-field, never forget those whom they have leftbehind them,—mother, sister, father, brother. Calmly, clearly,distinctly he repeated the lines,—the chorus of the song:

"Soon with angels I'll be marching,
With bright laurels on my brow;
I have for my country fallen,—
Who will care for sister now?"

The night wore away. Death stole on. He suffered intense pain, but nota murmur escaped his lips. Sabbath morning dawned, and with the comingof the light he passed away.

"I die content," said Wolfe, at Quebec, when told that the French werefleeing.

"Stand up for Jesus," said Dudley Tyng, in his last hours: words whichhave warmed and moved thousands of Christian hearts.

"Let me die with my face to the enemy," was the last request ofGeneral Rice, Christian, soldier, and patriot, at Spottsylvania; butequally worthy of remembrance are the words of Edward M.Schneider,—boy, student, youthful leader of the desperate charge atPetersburg. They are the essence of all that Wolfe and Tyng and Riceuttered in their last moments. His grave is near the roadside, markedby a rude paling. The summer breeze sweeps through the sighing pinesabove the heaved-up mound. Mournful, yet sweet, the music of thewind-harp;—mournful, in that one so young, so full of life and hopeand promise, should go so soon; sweet, in that he did his work sonobly. Had he lived a century he could not have completed it morethoroughly or faithfully. His was a short soldier's life, extendingonly from the peaceful shades of Andover to the intrenchments ofPetersburg; but O, how full!

Will the tree of Liberty prematurely decay, if nourished by suchlife-giving blood? It is costly, but the fruit is precious. For painand anguish, waste and desolation, we have such rich recompense asthis,—such examples of patriotic ardor, heroic(p. 368) daring, andChristian fortitude, that make men nobler, nations greater, and theworld better by their contemplation.

I have stood by the honored dust of those whose names are great inhistory, whose deeds and virtues are commemorated in brass and marble,who were venerated while living and mourned when dead; but never haveI felt a profounder reverence for departed worth than for this youngChristian soldier, uncoffined, unshrouded, wrapped only in hisblanket, and sleeping serenely beneath the evergreen pines.

His last words—the messages to his comrades, to his father, and hisbrother—are worthy to live so long as the flag of our country shallwave or the cross of Christ endure.

"Stand up for the dear old flag and cling to the cross of Christ!"They are the emblems of all our hopes for time and eternity. Short,full, rounded, complete his life. Triumphant, glorious his death!

Petersburg July 30th 1864.

Grant determined to assault all along the line on the morning of the18th, as nearly the entire army had arrived. Lee, however, fell backduring the night to a new position nearer the city.

But the attack was made. The Eighteenth, Second, and Sixth Corpsgained no advantage; but the Ninth and Fifth drove the Rebels acrossthe Norfolk Railroad, and reached the Jerusalem plank-road. Theposition of the besieging army is shown by the accompanying diagram.

On the 21st of June Grant attempted to take the Weldon Railroad withthe Second and Sixth Corps, but was opposed by the Rebels on Davis'sfarm, beyond the Jerusalem road, and a battle ensued.

Army corps chapel near Petersburg.

The engagement was renewed the next day. There was a gap in the lines,of which A. P. Hill took advantage, and attacked Barlow's division inflank. A severe struggle followed, in which Gibbon's division lostfour guns. The battle was continued on the 23d, but no fartherprogress was made. The troops had been fighting, marching, orbuilding breastworks for forty-seven(p. 369) days, withoutinterruption. Daily and nightly, from the Rapidan to the Weldon road,they had been in constant action. The troops were exhausted. Grant hadlost seventy thousand. The reinforcements which had reached him wereinexperienced. Men when physically prostrated are indifferent tocommands. Discipline becomes lax. Hundreds of efficient officers hadfallen during the campaign. Brigades were commanded by majors,regiments by captains, companies by corporals. The army neededthorough reorganization. The right of the line was sufficiently nearto Petersburg to commence siege operations. Intrenchments wereaccordingly thrown up and guns mounted, and the army enjoyedcomparative rest. But it was a rest under fire, day and night, theNinth and Eighteenth Corps especially being constantly harassed by theenemy, who were bitterly opposed to the employment of colored troops.It was systematic hostility,—ingrained, revengeful, relentless. Theywould not recognize or treat them as prisoners of war. Slavery longbefore had proclaimed that black men had no rights which white menwere bound to respect. For them was no mercy; only the fate of theircompatriots at Fort Pillow awaited them, if taken in arms againsttheir former masters, though wearing the uniform of the republic whichhad given them freedom and sent them to battle.

There was a tacit understanding between the soldiers of the Fifth andthe enemy in front of them that there should be no picket-firing. Theyfilled their canteens at the same spring and had friendlyconversations. But not so in front of the Ninth, in which thirty werewounded or killed every twenty-four hours. Such was the unnecessarysacrifice of life to this Moloch of our generation! There were thosein the army, as well as out of it, who were not willing that thecolored soldier should be recognized as a man.

"The negroes ought not to be allowed to fight," said a Massachusettscaptain to me.

"Why not, sir?"

"Because the Rebels hate us for making them soldiers," was the reply;and adding, dubiously, "I don't know but that the negroes have souls;but I look upon them as a lower order of beings than ourselves."

(p. 370) The old prejudice remained. We were not willing to dealfairly. We asked the negro to help fight our battles, but we werewilling to pay him only half a soldier's wages, as if we feared thissimple act of justice might be construed as an acknowledgment of hissocial as well as civil equality.

Through all the weary months of fighting and exposure the wants of thesoldiers were greatly relieved by the Sanitary and ChristianCommissions. The warm-hearted people in the North never ceased theircontributions. The machinery of both those excellent organizations wasso perfect that the soldiers had quick relief.

The power of any force—moral and religious as well as mechanical—isin proportion to the directness of its application. I recall, in thisconnection, a hot, dry, sultry day. The sun shone from a brazen sky.The grass and shrubs were scorched, withered, and powdered with dust,which rose in clouds behind every passing wagon. Even the aspens weremotionless, and there was not air enough to stir the long, litheneedles of the pines. The birds of the forest sought the deepestshade, and hushed even their twitter. It was difficult for men inrobust health to breathe, and they picked out the coolest places andgave themselves up to the languor of the hour. It required an earnesteffort to do anything. Yet through this blazing day men crouched inthe trenches from morning till night, or lay in their shallowrifle-pits, watching the enemy,—parched, broiled, burned, not daringto raise their heads or lift their hands. To do so was to suffer deathor wounds.

The hospital tents, though pitched in the woods, were like ovens,absorbing and holding the heat of the sun, whose rays the branches ofthe trees but partially excluded. Upon the ground lay the sick andwounded, fevered and sore, with energies exhausted, perspirationoozing from their faces, nerves quivering and trembling, pulses faintand feeble, and life ebbing away. Their beds were pine boughs. Theylay as they came from the battle-field, wearing their soiled, torn,and bloody garments, and tantalized by myriads of flies.

The surgeons in charge were kind-hearted and attentive. They used allmeans in their power to make their patients comfortable. Was this theplace where the sick were to regain(p. 371) their health, far fromhome and friends! With nothing to cheer them, hope was dying out, anddespondency setting in; and memory, ever busy, was picturing the dearold home scenes, so painfully in contrast with their dismal present.

It was the Sabbath, and there were many among the suffering thousandswho had been accustomed to observe the day as one of worship and restfrom toil and care. In imagination they heard the pealing ofchurch-bells, the grand and solemn music of the organ, or the hum ofchildren's voices in the Sabbath school.

There were no clouds to shut out the sun, but the brazen dome of thesky glowed with steady heat. The Christian Commission tent had beenbesieged all day by soldiers, who wanted onions, pickles, lemons,oranges,—anything sour, anything to tempt the taste. A box of orangeshad been brought from City Point the night before. It was suggestedthat they be distributed at once to the sick and wounded. "Certainly,by all means," was the unanimous voice of the Commission. Ivolunteered to be the distributor.

Go with me through the tents of the sufferers. Some are lying down,with eyes closed, faces pale, and cheeks sunken. The palenessunderlies the bronze which the sun has burned upon them. Some are halfreclining on their elbows, bolstered by knapsacks, and looking intovacancy,—thinking, perhaps, of home and kin, and wondering if theywill ever see them again. Others are reading papers which delegates ofthe Commission have distributed. Some of the poor fellows have but oneleg; others but the stump of a thigh or an arm, with the lightestpossible dressing to keep down the fever. Yesterday those men, in thefull tide of life, stood in the trenches confronting the enemy. Nowthey are shattered wrecks, having, perhaps, wife and children orparents dependent upon them; with no certainty of support forthemselves even but the small bounty of government, which they haveearned at such fearful sacrifice. But their future will be brightenedwith the proud consciousness of duty done and country saved,—thesurviving soldier's chief recompense for all the toil and sufferingand privation of the camp and field.

As we enter the tent they catch a sight of the golden fruit.(p. 372)There is a commotion. Those half asleep rub their eyes, thosepartially reclining sit up, those lying with their backs toward usturn over to see what is going on, those so feeble that they cannotmove ask what is the matter. They gaze wistfully at our lusciousburden. Their eyes gleam, but not one of them asks for an orange. Theywait. Through the stern discipline of war they have learned to bepatient, to endure, to remain in suspense, to stand still and be tornto pieces. They are true heroes!

"Would you like an orange, sir?"

"Thank you."

It is all he can say. He is lying upon his back. A minnie bullet haspassed through his body, and he cannot be moved. He has a noble brow,a manly countenance. Tears moisten his eyes and roll down his sunkencheeks as he takes it from my hand.

"It is a gift of the Christian Commission, and I accept your thanksfor those who made the contribution."

"Bully for the Christian Commission," shouts a wide-awake, jollysoldier, near by, with an ugly wound in his left arm.

"Thank you," "God bless the Commission," "I say, Bill, aren't theybully?" are the expressions I hear behind me.

In one of the wards I came upon a soldier who had lost his leg the daybefore. He was lying upon his side; he was robust, healthy, strong,and brave. The hours dragged heavily. I stood before him, and yet hedid not see me. He was stabbing his knife into a chip, with nervousenergy, trying to forget the pain, to bridge over the lonely hours,and shut the gloom out of the future. I touched his elbow; he lookedup.

"Would you like an orange?"

"By jingo! that is worth a hundred dollars!"

He grasped it as a drowning man clutches a chip.

"Where did this come from?"

"The Christian Commission had a box arrive last night."

"The Christian Commission? My wife belongs to that. She wrote to meabout it last week,—that they met to make shirts for the Commission."

"Then you have a wife?"

"Yes, sir, and three children."

(p. 373) His voice faltered. Ah! the soldier never forgets home. Hedashed away a tear, took in a long breath, and was strong again.

"Where do you hail from, soldier?"

"From old Massachusetts. I had a snug little home upon the banks ofthe Connecticut; but I told my wife that I didn't feel just right tostay there, when I was needed out here, and so I came, and here I am.I shall write home, and tell Mary about the Christian Commission. Ihave been wishing all day that I had an orange; I knew it was no useto wish. I didn't suppose there was one in camp; besides, here I am,not able to move a peg. I thank you, sir, for bringing it. I shalltell my wife all about it."

These expressions of gratitude were not indifferent utterances ofcourtesy, but came from full hearts. Those sun-burned sufferersrecognized the religion of Jesus in the gift. The Christian religion,thus exemplified, was not a cold abstraction, but a reality, providingfor the health of the body as well as the soul. It was easy toconverse with those men concerning their eternal well-being. Theycould not oppose a Christianity that manifested such regard for theirbodily comfort. Such a religion commended itself to their hearts andunderstandings. Thus the Commission became a great missionaryenterprise. Farina, oranges, lemons, onions, pickles, comfort-bags,shirts, towels, given and distributed in the name of Jesus, thoughdesigned for the body, gave strength to the soul. To the quickenedsenses of a wounded soldier parched with fever, far from home andfriends, an onion was a stronger argument for the religion whichbestowed it than the subtle reasoning of Renan, and a pickle sharperthan the keenest logic of Colenso!

Visiting Washington one day, I passed through several of thehospitals, and was present when the delegates came to thehead-quarters of the Commission and narrated their experiences of theday. About fifty were present. Their work was washing and dressingwounds, aiding the sick and wounded in every way possible,distributing reading matter, writing letters for those unable towrite, with religious exercises and conversation. No delegate wasallowed to give jellies or wines as food, or to hold meetings in anyward, without permission of the surgeon(p. 374) in charge, whichusually was granted. It was a rule of the Commission, and not of theMedical Department. The design was to do everything possible for thegood of the men, and nothing for their hurt. One delegate said that hefound fully one third of the men in his wards professing Christians.They were glad to see him, and rejoiced to obtain religious reading. Afew days before he had given an old man a book entitled the "Blood ofJesus."

"I have found Jesus, and O, he is so precious!" said the old soldier.

Another delegate said: "I found among the patients a minister whoenlisted as a private. He has been in the hospital sixteen months, andhas maintained his Christian character through all the trials of campand hospital life. I found some convalescents playing cards.

"'My boys, you don't play cards on Sunday, do you?'

"'It isn't Sunday, is it? Why, hang it all, chaplain, we can't keeptrack of the days in the army.'

"I talked to them of home and of their mothers. The tears rolled downtheir cheeks. They put up their cards, and read the papers I gavethem."

"I never saw men so ready to receive religious instruction," saidanother delegate, "or who were so easily impressed with its truths. Iam satisfied that this is a golden opportunity to the ChristianChurch. I found a young man to-day who said, 'I want you, chaplain, totell me just what I have to do to be a Christian. I will do just whatyou say. I want to be a Christian.' It was a sincere desire. I findthat the Catholics are just as eager to have religious instruction asothers."

"I found a sergeant from Massachusetts, very low, but he met me with asmile. 'It is all right, I am happy, and I die content. Tell myfriends so,'" reported another.

"I have been over the river to see some detached regiments," said achaplain. "I asked one noble-looking soldier if he loved Jesus?

"'No, I don't.'

"'Are you married?'

"'No; but I have a sister. She isn't a Christian, but she wrote to methat she wanted me to become one, and I wrote(p. 375) to her that Iwanted her to be one; and I guess, chaplain, that everybody whobelieves the Bible feels just so. If they ain't good themselves, theywant their friends to be.'

"I found another soldier writing a letter on a little bit of paper. Igave him a full sheet and an envelope.

"'Are you a Christian Commission man?'

"'Yes.'

"'You are a d—-- good set of fellows.'

"'Hold on, soldier, not quite so hard.'

"'I beg your pardon, chaplain, I didn't mean to swear, but, darn itall, I have got into the habit out here in the army, and it comesright out before I think.'

"'Won't you try to leave it off?'

"'Yes, chaplain, I will.'"

Said another delegate: "I went among the men, and they all gatheredround me with great eagerness. They were a little disappointed,however, when they saw that I was a delegate of the Commission. Theytook me to be the paymaster.

"But I have something that is better than gold."

"'Give me some of it,' said one, who was the son of a Baptistminister, a tender-hearted Christian."

One, just returned from the army at Petersburg, said: "I came across adrummer-boy of one of the Massachusetts regiments, a member of theSabbath school at home, who lost his Bible during the campaign, but hehas written the heads of his drum all over with texts of Scripturefrom memory. He beats a Gospel drum."

An hour was passed with such narration interspersed with devotionalexercises. Glorious their work! Sweet the music of their partinghymn:—

"Nearer, my God, to thee,
Nearer to thee;
E'en though it be a cross that raiseth me,
Still all my song shall be,
Nearer, my God, to thee,
Nearer to thee."

(p. 376) CHAPTER XXI.
SIEGE OPERATIONS.

The Norfolk Railroad enters Petersburg through a ravine. In the attackupon the enemy's lines, on the 18th of June, the hollow was gained andheld by Burnside's troops, their most advanced position being aboutfour hundred feet from the Rebel line.

Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Pleasants, commanding the Forty-EighthPennsylvania Regiment, a practical miner, conceived the idea ofexcavating a tunnel under the Rebel works and exploding a mine. Hesubmitted the plan to Burnside, who approved it. General Meade said itcould not be done. Major Duane, of the Engineers, laughed at the idea.Other officers, of high rank, scouted the project. Colonel Pleasantswas fully convinced of its practicability, and set his men to work.

He made application at head-quarters for a theodolite to make atriangulation of the distance, but was refused its use. He was obligedto send to Washington to obtain one. No facilities were granted him.He could neither obtain boards, lumber, or mining-picks. But hisregiment, numbering four hundred men, were mostly miners, and he wasconfident of success. Work was accordingly commenced on the 25th ofJune, at noon. No wheelbarrows being provided, the men were obliged tomake hand-barrows of cracker-boxes. But they were at home in theearth, and not easily discouraged by difficulties or want of propertools to work with, and pushed forward the gallery, which was aboutfour and a half feet high and the same in width, with great zeal. Theearth brought out was covered with bushes, to conceal it from theRebels, who by its fresh appearance might suspect where the mine wasbeing sunk, as it was known throughout the army that mining operationshad been commenced, and the Rebels had heard of it. The Richmond(p. 377) papers published the news, and it was heralded through theNorth.

At every discharge of the Rebel artillery there was danger of thecaving in of the earth; but Pleasants' daring burrowers crept steadilyforward, till the noise overhead, as well as previous measurements,convinced them that they were immediately under the Rebel works. Themain gallery was five hundred and ten feet in length, beside whichwere two lateral galleries, one thirty-seven and the otherthirty-eight feet in length.

A short distance from the entrance, inside of the Unionfortifications, a vertical shaft was sunk, in which a fire was keptconstantly burning, to produce ventilation. Eight magazines wereplaced in the lateral galleries, charged with four tons of powder,strongly tamped, and connected by fuses. The mine was completed on the23d of July.

Grant planned an assault upon the Rebel line, independently of theexplosion of the mine. He sent two divisions of the Second Corps, withtwo divisions of Sheridan's cavalry, to the Army of the James, at DeepBottom, where an attack was made, four guns captured, and the lineextended from Deep Bottom to the New Market road. Lee attempted torecover his lost ground, but failed. Grant, in this expedition,employed an immense train of empty baggage-wagons, which, passing insight of the Rebel pickets, made the movement an enigma to Lee. TheRebels in the fortifications had commenced a counter-mine, butsuspended labor.

General Burnside wished that the colored troops of his division, underGeneral Ferrero, should lead in the assault after the mine wasexploded; and the troops were drilled with that special object inview. He believed that they would make a successful charge. They werefresh, had taken but little part in the campaign, and were desirous ofemulating the example of their comrades of the Eighteenth Corps. Thewhite troops were worn with hard marching, fighting, and exposure inthe trenches in front of Petersburg, where they had been on the watchday and night. The lines were so near to the Rebels that a man couldnot show his head above the parapet without being shot. They hadacquired the habit of taking(p. 378) their positions by coveredapproaches, and had lost the resolute confidence and fearlessnessmanifested at the beginning of the campaigns.

General Meade objected to Burnside's plan.

"I objected," says Meade, "not that I had any reason to believe thatthe colored troops would not do their duty as well as the whitetroops, but that they were a new division, and had never been underfire, had never been tried, and, as this was an operation which I knewbeforehand was one requiring the very best troops, I thought itimpolitic to trust to a division of whose reliability we had noevidence."[68]

The matter was referred to General Grant, who says:—

"General Burnside wanted to put his colored division in front, and I believe if he had done so it would have been a success. Still I agreed with General Meade in his objections to the plan. General Meade said that if we put the colored troops in front (we had only one division), and it should prove a failure, it would then be said, probably, that we were shoving those people ahead to get killed, because we did not care anything about them. But that could not be said if we put white troops in front."[69]

General Burnside had three divisions of white troops; as there werereasons for assigning either of the divisions to lead the assault,lots were cast, and the duty fell upon General Ledlie.

Burnside was directed by Meade to form his troops during the night,and be ready to assault at daylight on the 30th. His pioneers were tobe equipped to destroy the enemy's abatis. Intrenching tools wereprovided, so that if successful in breaking the Rebel lines, theposition might be quickly secured.

Portions of the Fifth and Eighteenth Corps were brought up to supportthe Ninth.

The field artillery was to be harnessed for immediate use. The siegeartillery was to open a heavy fire. The Second Corps, at Deep Bottom,was to move to the rear of the Eighteenth, and be ready for anyemergency. Sheridan, with the cavalry, was ordered to attack south andeast of Petersburg. The Engineers were to have sand-bags, gabions,and fascines(p. 379) in readiness. The mine was to be fired at halfpast three, and simultaneously with the explosion the assaultingcolumn was to rush into the gap.

"Promptitude, rapidity of execution, and cordial co-operation areessential to success," wrote General Meade, in his concluding orders.

The movements and preparations were completed before three o'clock.The moon was shining brightly, but the Rebels made no discovery of thechange of position and massing of troops in rear of the Ninth Corps.The heights near the hospitals were covered by teamsters, ambulancedrivers, surgeons, and civilians, waiting with intense interest forthe expected upheaval.

Half past three came, and the fuse was lighted. A stream of fire ranquickly along the gallery, but no explosion followed. Had the fusefailed? Lieutenant Douty and Sergeant Reese went boldly in toascertain, and found the fire had gone out one hundred feet from theentrance. The fuse was relighted, but it was almost five o'clock, andthe anxious spectators began to speculate as to the cause of thedelay.

Grant and Meade were at the front. The troops thought the whole thinga failure, and began to ridicule the Pennsylvania miners.

Fleming's Rebel brigade, composed of the Seventeenth, Eighteenth, andTwenty-Second North Carolinians, was asleep over the mine. The picketsonly were awake. Pegram's battery was also in the redoubt.

Finally there came a trembling of the earth, then a bursting forth ofvolcanic flames and rolling up of dense clouds of smoke. A mountain ofrubbish rose in the air. Earth, men, planks, timbers, cannon, shot andshell, were hurled upward and outward! The sight was terribly grand.To add to the frightfulness of the eruption and the grandeur of thespectacle, one hundred guns instantly belched forth their thunders.The Rebels were surprised and panic-stricken for the moment, and ranto escape the falling earth and timbers, leaving their artillerysilent. A huge gap had been made in the Rebel works, four or fivehundred feet in length and twenty feet in depth.

Success depended upon the immediate occupation of the breach. Tenminutes passed before Ledlie moved, and then(p. 380) he only advancedto the crater. The Rebels offered no opposition. The important pointto be gained and held was a ridge four hundred yards beyond. Ledliestill halted in the excavation. Wilcox and Potter soon followed him,and the three divisions became intermixed, and general confusionprevailed. An hour of precious time was lost. Ledlie made no attemptto move in or out, and Potter and Wilcox could not go forward while heblocked the way.

The enemy gradually recovered from their stupor, and began to firefrom the hills, and batteries of artillery were brought up on theright and left to enfilade the crater: but not a cannon-shot was firedby the Rebels till after seven o'clock. The supporting brigadesmeanwhile were crowding upon those in front. The colored troops wereordered forward. They also entered the crater, which only added to theconfusion. Potter succeeded in freeing his troops from Ledlie's, andpushed on toward the crest, but being unsupported, he was obliged toretire, driven back by the canister which the enemy poured into hisranks from the new position they had taken on Cemetery Hill. The Rebelfire increased. Eight, nine, ten o'clock passed; their batteries werethrowing a concentrated fire of shells and solid shot into the mingledhuman mass. Mahone's and Ransom's divisions of infantry were hurriedto the top of the ridge, and mortars were brought into play, and thecrater became a terrible scene of slaughter. Meade, seeing thatfurther attempt to take the ridge would be not only useless, but awaste of life, permitted Burnside to withdraw his troops atdiscretion. Yet to retire was to run the gauntlet of almost certaindeath. The space between the abyss and Burnside's breastworks wasswept by a cross-fire from the enemy's artillery and infantry. Toremain in the crater was sure destruction; to advance was impossible;to retreat the only alternative. Permission was given the troops toretire. By degrees they fled to the rear; but it was two o'clock inthe afternoon before the place was wholly evacuated.

Forty-seven officers and three hundred and seventy-two soldiers werekilled, one hundred and twenty-four officers and fifteen hundred andfifty-five soldiers wounded, and nineteen hundred missing; a totalloss of over four thousand men, and no substantial advantage gained.

(p. 381) The loss of the Rebels by the explosion was very great, asalso by the heavy artillery fire.

The causes of the failure, as decided by the Committee on the Conductof the War, were: the injudicious formation of the troops assaulting;the halting of Ledlie; lack of proper engineers; and the want of acompetent head at the scene of assault.

The reasons why the attack ought to have been successful are thusstated:—

It was a humiliating, disgraceful failure, which filled the North withmourning. The Rebels manifested their hatred of the colored troops byshooting some of them even after they had surrendered. The RichmondEnquirer said that the assaulting column was led by colored troops,who rushed on with the cry of "No quarter," but the assertion is nottrue. The colored troops were not ordered forward till late in themorning, and then advanced but a few steps beyond the crater. TheEnquirer of August 1st doubtless gave expression to the sentimentsof the Southern people respecting the treatment to be accorded tocolored soldiers. Said that paper:—

"Grant's war cry of "No quarter," shouted by his negro soldiers, was returned with interest, we regret to hear not so heavily as it ought to have been, since some negroes were captured instead of being shot.... Let every salient we are called upon to defend be a Fort Pillow, and butcher every negro that Grant hurls against our brave troops, and permit them not to soil their hands with the capture of one negro."

It was the opinion of many officers who saw the advance of thecolored division, that, had they been permitted to lead the(p. 382)assault, the crest would have been seized and held. Such is theopinion of the Lieutenant-General already given.

The onset promised to be successful, but ended in one of the severestdisasters of the war, without any compensation worthy of mention.

Sad the scene on that afternoon. The ground was thickly strewn withdying and dead. The sun blazed from a cloudless sky, and the heat wasintense. The cries of the wounded were heart-rending. Officers and menon both sides stopped their ears, and turned away heart-sick at thesight. It was an exhibition of the horrible features of war which,once seen, is forever remembered.

The operation of Grant upon the enemy's lines of communication wasbeginning to be felt in Richmond. Wilson and Kautz on the Danville andWeldon roads, Sheridan on the Virginia Central, and Hunter in thevicinity of Lynchburg, altogether had caused an interruption ofcommunication which advanced the prices of produce in the markets ofthat city.

It is amusing to read the papers published during the summer of 1864.All of Grant's movements from the Rapidan to Petersburg were retreats.Lee, in his despatches to Jeff Davis from the Wilderness, said thatGrant was retreating towards Fredericksburg. It happened, however,that Lee found Grant attacking his lines at Spottsylvania on thefollowing morning. "The enemy is falling back from Spottsylvania,"said theExaminer, when Grant moved to the North Anna.

"Grant is floundering in the swamp of the Chickahominy; he has reachedMcClellan's graveyard," said the Rebel press, when he was at ColdHarbor.

"Grant's attitude before Petersburg is that of a baffled, if not aruined man," said the RichmondEnquirer.

"We can stand such a siege as Grant thinks he has established fortwenty years to come," was the language of the PetersburgExpress.

Another number of theEnquirer, commenting upon the Richmondmarkets, revealed more clearly the truth.

"The extortionnow practised upon the people," said theEnquirerof June 30th, "in every department of necessary supply, is frightful.It is a pitiable sight to see the families of this(p. 383) cityswarming in the markets for food, and subjected to the mercilessexactions of this unrestrained avarice."

The fortunes of the Confederacy were becoming desperate. Sherman hadadvanced from Chattanooga, driving Johnston to Atlanta. The removal ofJohnston, and the appointment of an officer in his stead who wouldfight the Yankees, was demanded. Jeff Davis heeded the cry, removedJohnston, and appointed Hood to succeed him. TheEnquirer wasjubilant. Said that sheet:—

'There must be an end of retreating, and the risk of defeat must be encountered, or victory can never be won. The rule of Cunctator must have an end, for the rashness of Scipio can only end this war. If General Johnston has been relieved, the country will accept this action of the President as a determination henceforth to accept the risk of battle, as involving the fate and fixing the destiny of the Confederacy. To go forward and to fight is now the motto of our armies, and since Johnston would not advance, Hood has no other alternative, for his appointment has but one meaning, and that is to give battle to the foe.... Grant is hopelessly crippled at Petersburg, and Lee has but a few days ago thundered his artillery in the corporate limits of Washington City. Grant, while apparently advancing, has been really retreating, and this day is in a position from which he can advance no farther, and from which his retreat is only a question of time. Grant is exhausting the malice of disappointment and the chagrin of defeat in bombarding Petersburg; but Sherman, unless defeated by Hood, must march into Atlanta. The movements of General Lee have so weakened the army of Grant, that it is more an object of pity than of fear."[71]

Early in the campaign Grant, seeing the necessity of keeping the ranksof the Army of the Potomac full, had ordered the Nineteenth Corps,then on the Mississippi, to take transports for the James. His policywas concentration combined with activity. His foresight and prudencein this matter were of inestimable value, as will be seen in theensuing chapter.

(p. 384) CHAPTER XXII.
THIRD INVASION OF MARYLAND.

The armies of the Union in Virginia, in the West, beyond theMississippi, and along the Gulf were controlled by General Grant. Thechess-board was continental in its dimensions, but everything upon itseemed within reach of his hand. He had two armies under his immediatedirection,—the Army of the Potomac and the Army of the James. He wasin constant communication with Sherman at Atlanta, and his ordersreached the forces a thousand miles distant on the Mississippi! Thedetails were left to the commanders of the various armies, but allimportant schemes were submitted to him for approval. But his bestplans sometimes miscarried, from the neglect or inability of hissubordinates to carry them into execution. Before starting from theRapidan, General Grant ordered Hunter, who had succeeded to thecommand of Sigel in the Shenandoah, to proceed up the valley toStaunton and Gordonsville. When Grant was on the North Anna, headvised that officer to move on Charlottesville and Lynchburg, live onthe country as he marched, and destroy the railroads, and, ifpossible, the James River Canal. Accomplishing that, he was to returnto Gordonsville, and there join Grant. Hunter advanced. Sheridan wassent with the cavalry, while Grant was at Cold Harbor, to aid him.Sheridan broke up the Virginia Central Railroad, moved toGordonsville, but hearing nothing of Hunter returned to the WhiteHouse, and rejoined Grant at Petersburg.

Hunter moved up the valley. At the same time Generals Crook andAverill, leaving Western Virginia, met Hunter near Staunton, wherethey had a battle with the Rebels under General Jones, who was killed,and his force routed, with a loss of three guns and fifteen hundredprisoners.

Hunter, instead of approaching Lynchburg by Gordonsville(p. 385) andCharlottesville, took the road leading through Lexington and thusmissed Sheridan.

He reached Lynchburg on the 16th of June, at the same time that Grantwas moving from Cold Harbor to the James. Lee, seeing the danger whichthreatened him at the backdoor of the Rebel capital, threwreinforcements into Lynchburg, and Hunter was obliged to retreat,being far from his base, and having but a limited supply ofammunition. Having advanced upon Lynchburg from the west, instead offrom the north, he was obliged to retreat in the same directionthrough Western Virginia, a country wellnigh barren of supplies. Thisleft the Shenandoah open. There was no force to oppose the Rebels whowere at Lynchburg. The decision of Hunter to go forward by Lexingtoninstead of by Gordonsville disarranged Grant's plans, who did notdirect him to move by Charlottesville. His letter to Halleck of the25th of May reads: "If Hunter can possibly get to Charlottesville andLynchburg, he should do so, living on the country. The railroads andcanals should be destroyed beyond the possibility of repair for weeks.Completing this, he could find his way back to his original base, orfrom Gordonsville join this army." No mention was made of hisadvancing by Lexington; but taking that route, and being compelled toretreat by the Great Kanawha, gave Lee an opportunity to strike a blowat Washington. He was active to improve it, but Grant was quick todiscover his intentions.

Ewell was sick, and Early was appointed to command the Rebel troops inthe Valley. Breckenridge was sent up from Richmond. The troops tookcars and moved up the Lynchburg road to Gordonsville. Early foundhimself at the head of twenty-five or thirty thousand men. Mosby, withhis band of guerillas, was scouring the Valley and Western Virginia.He reported a clear coast towards Washington, but that Sigel was atMartinsburg.

Early passed rapidly down the Valley, drove Sigel across the Potomac,and followed him to Hagerstown. The people of Western Maryland andSouthern Pennsylvania, who had already received two unpleasant visitsfrom the Rebels, fled in haste towards Baltimore and Harrisburg. Thepanic was(p. 386) widespread. Extravagant stories were told of theforce of the enemy: Lee's whole army was advancing; he hadoutgeneralled Grant; he had sixty thousand men across the Potomac;Washington and Baltimore were to be captured. All of which wasreceived with exceeding coolness by the Lieutenant-General in commandat City Point, who detached the Sixth Corps, ordering Ricketts'sdivision to Baltimore and the other two divisions to Washington. TheNineteenth Corps, which had arrived at Fortress Monroe, was despatchedto Washington.

The news was startling. Leaving the army at Petersburg, I hastened toCity Point, to proceed to Washington. There was no commotion atGeneral Grant's head-quarters. The chief quartermaster was lookingover his reports. The clerks were at their regular work. There werenumerous transports in the stream, but no indications of theembarkation of troops. General Grant was out, walking leisurely about,with his thumbs in the arm-holes of his vest, smoking his cigar soquietly and apparently unconcerned, that, had it not been for thethree stars on his shoulders, a stranger would have passed him withouta thought of his being the man who was playing the deepest game of warin modern times. The members of his military family were not in theleast excited. Calling on Colonel Bowers, Grant's adjutant-general, Ifound him attending to the daily routine.

"They are having a little scare at Washington and in the North. Itwill do them good," said he.

"How large a force is it supposed the Rebels have in Maryland?"

"Somewhere about twenty-five thousand,—possibly thirty. Breckenridgehas gone, with his command. And Early has raked and scraped all thetroops possible which were outside of Richmond. Mosby is with him, andthe irregular bands of the upper Potomac, and the troops which metHunter at Lynchburg. It will not affect operations here. Leeundoubtedly expected to send Grant post-haste to Washington; but thesiege will go on."

On the wall of his room was a map of the Southern States, showing bycolored lines the various gauges of all the railroads. Grant came in,looked at it, said "Good morning,"(p. 387) and went out for anotherstroll about the grounds, thinking all the while.

On board our boat was a lively company, principally composed of thesoldiers of the Massachusetts Sixteenth, who had served three years,and were on their way home. They were in the Peninsular campaigns.Their commander, Colonel Wyman, was killed at Glendale, where theyheld the ground when McCall's line was swept away. His fugitives ranthrough Hooker's and Sumner's lines, but the men of the Sixteenthstood firm in their places, till the drift had passed by, and movedforward to meet the exultant enemy, pouring in such a fire that theRebel column became a mob, and fled in haste towards Richmond. Theywere in Grover's brigade at the second battle of Manassas. There havebeen few bayonet-charges pushed with such power as theirs in thatbattle. The Rebels were on Milroy's left flank, which was bending likea bruised reed before their advance, when Grover moved to the attack.

"We stood in these lines," said a wounded officer of the SecondLouisiana, a prisoner at Warrenton, two months after that battle."They fell upon us like a thunderbolt. They paid no attention to ourvolleys. We mowed them down, but they went right through our firstline, then through our second, and advanced to the railroadembankment, and there we stopped them. They did it so splendidly thatwe couldn't help cheering them. It made me feel bad to fire on suchbrave fellows."

They were reduced to a squad. Their comrades were lying on nearly allthe battle-fields of Virginia.

"We have had a pretty rough time of it, and I am glad we are through;but I wouldn't mind having another crack at the Johnnie's roundWashington," said a soldier, lying on the deck with his knapsack for apillow.

The whole regiment was ready to volunteer for the defence ofWashington.

The cannoneers of the Twelfth New York battery were of the company.They were in Wilson's raid, had lost their guns, and felt sore. Evenwhen their loss is owing to no fault on the part of the artillerists,they usually feel that it is humiliating. They give pet names to thedogs of war; and when a good shot has been made, affectionately pattheir brazen lips.

(p. 388) There were members of the Sanitary and Christian Commissions,taking care of the sick and wounded; also a family of refugees fromPrince George County, on the way to Maryland, to find a new home tillthe war was over.

Early was making the most of his opportunity. His cavalry moved atwill, with no force to oppose them.

They divided into small bodies and overran the country from Frederickto Williamsport, destroying the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad, burningcanal-boats, seizing horses, cattle, and supplies, from the farmers,ransacking houses as thoroughly as the soldiers of the Union had donein Virginia.

The first invasion of Maryland, in 1862, was a political as well as amilitary movement. It was supposed by the Rebel leaders that the Statewas ready to join the Confederacy, that the people were held insubjection by a military despotism. "My Maryland" was then the popularsong of the South, sung in camp, on the march, and in parlors andconcert-halls.

"The despot's heel is on thy shore,
Maryland!
His torch is at thy temple-door,
Maryland!
Avenge the patriotic gore
That wept o'er gallant Baltimore,
And be the battle-queen of yore,
Maryland! My Maryland!"

When Jackson's corps crossed the Potomac, his troops sang it withenthusiastic demonstrations, tossing up their caps. They came asliberators. Jackson's orders were strict against pillage. All propertytaken was to be paid for in Confederate notes,—at that time esteemedby the Rebels to be as good as greenbacks, though not very acceptableto the Marylanders. It was an invasion for conciliation. The troopsrespected the orders, and, aside from the loss of a few horses, thepeople of Maryland were well treated in that campaign. But in thesecond invasion, when Lee passed into Pennsylvania, no favor was shownto Maryland. Houses, stores, public and private buildings alike weresacked and burned. The soldiers foraged at will, and the one who couldsecure the most clothing or food was the best fellow. In this thirdand last invasion, officers and soldiers pillaged indiscriminately.

Ruins of Chambersburg.

(p. 389) "Pay me twenty thousand dollars or I will burn your town,"said Early to the citizens of Hagerstown, who advanced the money orits equivalent.

General Lew Wallace was in command at Baltimore. He sent what troopshe could collect to the Monocacy, where he was joined by Ricketts'sdivision of the Sixth Corps. Wallace formed his line across therailroad and awaited Early's advance. With the exception of Ricketts'sdivision, Wallace's troops were men enlisted for one hundred days,also heavy artillerests taken from the Baltimore fortifications,invalids from the hospitals, and volunteers, numbering about ninethousand. The Rebels forded the stream and began the attack. They wereheld in check several hours. Wallace, after losing about twelvehundred men, was obliged to retreat.

His defeat, and the stories of the magnitude of the Rebel force, putBaltimore and Washington in great excitement. The battle at Monocacywas fought on Saturday. On Sunday morning the church-bells inBaltimore were rung, and the citizens, instead of attending worship,made haste to prepare for the enemy. Alarming reports reached thatcity from Westminster, Reisterstown, and Cockeysville, that the Rebelswere in possession of those places. Couriers dashed into Washingtonfrom Rockville, only twelve miles distant, crying that the Rebels wereadvancing upon the capital. On Monday morning they were nearHavre-de-Grace, at Gunpowder River, where they burned the bridge, cutthe telegraph, captured trains, and robbed passengers, entirelysevering Baltimore and Washington from the loyal North. Only fivemiles from Washington, they burned the house of Governor Bradford, andpillaged Montgomery Blair's. Government employees were under arms, andtroops were hastening out on the roads leading north and west, when Iarrived in Washington. Loud cheers greeted Wright's two divisions ofthe Sixth Corps, and still louder shouts the veterans of theNineteenth Corps, from the Mississippi, as they marched through thecity. It was amusing and instructive to watch the rapid change inmen's countenances. When disaster threatens, men are silent; thedanger past, the tongue is loosened.

On Tuesday the Rebel sharpshooters were in front of Fort(p. 390)Stevens; they picked off some of the gunners, but a charge by abrigade dislodged them. They fled, leaving about one hundred dead andwounded. Forces were gathering around Early, and on Wednesday morninghe hastily retreated. He recrossed the Potomac at Edwards's Ferry, andmade his way, through Snicker's Gap, into the Shenandoah Valley, withan immense train of plunder, consisting of forage, grain, horses,cattle, hogs, sheep, groceries, clothing, and a forced contribution oftwo hundred thousand dollars from the people of Frederick, leviedunder threat of burning the town.

Early had no serious intention of attacking Washington, but theinvasion was designed primarily to raise the siege of Petersburg, andsecondarily to replenish the commissariat of the Rebel army.

Grant comprehended the movement, and instead of abandoning Petersburg,made preparations to seize the Weldon road, which, after a severestruggle, was accomplished. A few weeks later Sheridan defeated Earlyin the Valley, which ended the campaign of 1864 in Virginia.

A lay delegate in the hospital.

A charge.

(p. 391) CHAPTER XXIII.
SHERMAN'S ARMY

The army under General Sherman fought its way from Chattanooga toAtlanta, and then marched to the sea, capturing Fort McAllister, andopening communication with the fleet under Dupont on the 13th ofDecember, and a few days later made its grandentrée into Savannah.A brief review of Sherman's campaign is necessary to a clearunderstanding of what afterward transpired in his department.

While the Army of the Potomac was pushing through to the south side ofthe James, the Army of the West was moving upon Atlanta, having driventhe Rebels under Johnston from Tunnel Hill, Buzzards' Roost, Resaca,Kingston, Allatoona, and Kenesaw. Johnston fought only on thedefensive, and was constantly beaten, abandoning stronghold afterstronghold that the Rebels had declared impregnable, and whosesurrender they felt was humiliating and disgraceful.

There was a clamor throughout the South for his removal, and theappointment of a general who would take the offensive. Jeff Davisdisliked Johnston on personal grounds, and appointed Hood hissuccessor. That officer hurled his troops against Sherman'sbreastworks, and suffered a damaging defeat. Sherman in turn made aflank movement, and compelled Hood to evacuate Atlanta, which Shermanoccupied on the 2d of September. Jeff Davis hastened West. Heconceived the idea of forcing Sherman to retreat from Atlanta toNashville, by invading Tennessee. As Hood's army had been driven fromChattanooga to Dalton, losing all its strong positions, this plan isone of the most remarkable in military history. It is hardly withinthe sphere of sober criticism, but appropriately belongs to the comicpage. "Your feet shall again press the soil of Tennessee, withinthirty days," said Davis to the soldiers. "The invader shall be drivenfrom your territory. The retreat of Sherman from Atlanta shall be likeNapoleon's from Moscow."

(p. 392) Sherman had already contemplated a movement to Savannah, andhad opened correspondence with Grant.

"Until we can repopulate Georgia it is useless to occupy it; but the utter destruction of its roads, houses, and people will cripple their military resources. By attempting to hold the roads we will lose a thousand men monthly, and will gain no result. I can make the march and make Georgia howl.... Hood may turn into Tennessee and Kentucky, but I believe he will be forced to follow me. Instead of being on the defensive, I would be on the offensive. Instead of guessing at what he means, he would have to guess at my plans. The difference in war is fully twenty-five per cent. I can make Savannah, Charleston, or the mouth of the Chattahoochee, and prefer to march through Georgia, smashing things to the sea."

Grant authorized the movement. Hood was preparing to move north.

Sherman's right wing, commanded by Howard, was composed of Osterhaus'sFifteenth Corps and the Seventeenth, under Blair; Slocum had his leftwing, containing the Fourteenth Corps under Jeff. C. Davis, and theTwentieth with Williams.

The Twentieth was consolidated from the Eleventh and Twelfth Corps ofthe Army of the Potomac, which had fought at Fredericksburg,Chancellorsville, and Gettysburg.

Sherman sent his last despatch to Washington on the 11th of November.On the 17th, the day on which Sherman left Atlanta, Hood crossed theTennessee River, to make the movement which was to compel Sherman toevacuate Georgia!

Sherman's southward march was a surprise to the Rebels. They affectedjoy, and predicted his destruction.

Said the AugustaConstitutionalist:—

"The hand of God is in it. The blow, if we can give it as it should be given, may end the war. We urge our friends in the track of the advance to remove forage and provisions, horses, mules, and negroes, and stock, and burn the balance. Let the invader find the desolation he would leave behind him staring him in the face.... Cut trees across all roads in front of the enemy, burn the bridges, remove everything possible in time, and, before the enemy arrives, burn and destroy what cannot be removed,—leave nothing on which he can subsist; and hide the millstone and machinery of the mills.... The Russians destroyed(p. 393) the grand army of Napoleon, of five hundred thousand men, by destroying their country, by the fulness of fire applied to their own cities, houses, and granaries. Let Georgians imitate their unselfishness and love of country for a few weeks, and the army of Sherman will have the fate of the army of Napoleon."[72]

Said the SavannahNews:—

"We have only to arouse our whole arms-bearing people,—hover on his front, his flanks, and rear,—remove from his reach or destroy every thing that will subsist man or beast,—retard his progress by every means in our power,—and, when the proper time comes, fall upon him with the relentless vengeance of an insulted and outraged people, and there need be no doubt of the result."[73]

If it be true," said theExaminer of Richmond, "that Sherman is nowattempting this prodigious design, we may safely predict that hismarch will lead him to the Paradise of Fools, and that his magnificentscheme will hereafter be reckoned

'With all the good deeds that never were done.'"

Almost without opposition Sherman reached the sea, and forced Hardeeto evacuate Savannah.

General Sherman is regarded by many people in the Southern States asthe Attila of the nineteenth century, because his path from Atlanta tothe Roanoke is a widespread scene of devastation. Yet he did only thatwhich the leaders of the Rebellion and the newspapers of the Southurged the people to do. They proposed to make the country a ruin inself-defence. Sherman did it to shorten the war. He says:—

"We consumed the corn and fodder in the region of country for thirty miles on either side of a line from Atlanta to Savannah; also the sweet potatoes, hogs, sheep, and poultry, and carried off more than ten thousand horses and mules. I estimate the damage done to the State of Georgia as one hundred million dollars; at least twenty million dollars of which enured to our advantage, and the remainder was simple waste and destruction."[74]

This is a frank avowal. It is the official utterance of the commanderwho was instrumental in causing such wholesale destruction. To whatend? What was gained by it? Was(p. 394) such destruction warranted?What will be the verdict of history? These are questions which forcethemselves upon every thinking mind.

General Sherman's vindication of himself is found in hiscorrespondence with the Mayor of Atlanta and with General Hoodconcerning the expulsion of the non-combatants from that city.

As he could not subsist his army and the citizens also, he orderedthat every person not connected with the army should leave the place.The people of that town had done what they could to overthrow thegovernment of the United States. They had given great material aid tothe Rebellion. They hated the Union as bitterly as ever, but werewilling to be consumers of the food dispensed by a government whichthey were not willing to recognize as holding rightful authority overthem. The Mayor set forth the suffering which would be entailed uponwomen and children, the poor and sick, by the enforcement of theorder.

"You know the woe, the horror, and the suffering cannot be described in words," said the Mayor. "Imagination can only conceive of it, and we ask you to take these things into consideration.... We solemnly petition you to reconsider this order, or modify it, and suffer this unfortunate people to remain at home and enjoy what little means they have."

The reply of General Sherman was clear and decisive.

General Hood protested against the order. By a flag of truce he sent aletter, saying:—

"Permit me to say, the unprecedented measure you propose transcends in studied and iniquitous cruelty all acts ever before brought to my attention in this dark history of the war. In the name of God and humanity, I protest, believing you are expelling from homes and firesides wives and children of a brave people."

To this Sherman answered on the same date:—

Notwithstanding the excesses which were committed by the foragers onSherman's march from Atlanta to the sea, his army maintained itsdiscipline. The soldiers while in and around Savannah were orderly andquiet. No woman was insulted; there was no debauchery, no breakingopen of houses. Citizens could walk the streets and engage in businesswithout molestation. Life and property were respected. General Shermanin his official report thus spoke of the conduct of his soldiers:—

Although Sherman's army was composed of four corps, the Fourteenth,Fifteenth, Seventeenth, and Twentieth, he had another made up from allof these, which, though unknown in the war office, was of much serviceto him and of great damage to the enemy. It was known as the "Bummer"Corps. The word is not to be found in either of the Americanunabridged dictionaries, though it has become historic. Who made it,or how it came into use, is not known. It may have been derived fromthe wordbum-bailiff, which is a corruption of bound-bailiff, asubordinate civil officer appointed to serve writs and to makeexecutions, and bound with sureties for a faithful discharge of histrust; or frombum-boat, a boat used for conveying provisions,fruit, and supplies from shore to ship. From the two words we get thefull meaning of the termBummer.

Sherman could not start from Atlanta with sufficient supplies ofbread, meat, and corn for his great march. He must live on thecountry. Hence he marched in four parallel columns, near enough to aideach other if attacked, yet far enough apart to mow a swath forty orfifty miles in width.

The foraging party, numbering over five thousand, always on the alert,ever in the advance, kept ahead of Kilpatrick with his cavalry.

"If I come to a town or village or plantation, and stop to obtainforage, I find that the infernal bummers have been there," saidKilpatrick.

Having authority to take provisions, the bummers were not tardy inexecuting their trust. They went in squads, fought the Rebelskirmishers, and defeated Wheeler's cavalry in several encounters. Nomatter how rich a prize there might be of poultry in a farm-yard, theappearance of a Rebel brought them into line for mutual defence.

Sometimes they came in with a dozen fresh horses loaded with(p. 399)chickens, turkeys, and pigs. In one instance a squad, with live fowlsdangling at their saddles, was confronted by Rebel cavalry. Theyformed in line, fired a volley, and started upon a charge. Thegalloping of the horses, accompanied by the flapping of wings, thecackling of hens, gobbling of turkeys, and squealing of pigs,stampeded the horses of the enemy, and gave the bummers an easyvictory.

Farm wagons were confiscated and filled with provisions,—jars ofjelly, preserves, pickles, and honey, baskets of sweet potatoes andlegs of bacon. They often rode grandly in family carriages,accompanied by crowds of grinning negroes, who had pointed out theplaces where the planters had secreted provisions, and who watched forRebels while the bummer secured his plunder; and then, when the masterwas out of sight, bid good by forever to the old plantation, and withlight hearts leaped the fences, on their way to freedom.

There were two classes of bummers,—the regular soldier of the corps,who kept his comrades well supplied with good things, and theirregular member, whose chief care was to provide for himself.

They were of great service, not only as foragers, but as flankers andscouts, keeping Sherman well informed of the whereabouts of theRebels. Yet their lawlessness had a demoralizing tendency. Some weretender-hearted, and took only what was needed to eat, while othersransacked houses, ripped open feather-beds, smashed looking-glassesand crockery, and tumbled tables and chairs about unceremoniously,frightening women and children. But a bummer outraging a woman wouldhave been hung by his fellows on the nearest tree, or if not by themhe would have had short respite of life from the soldiers in theranks.

While in Savannah they had no occasion to ply their vocation, asprovisions were abundant. Noticing full-grown chickens picking up cornin the streets, I expressed my surprise to an officer of the TwentiethCorps.

"The fact is," he replied, "we have lived on chickens all the way fromAtlanta. We have had roast chicken, fried chicken, and stewed chicken,till we are tired of it."

But when Sherman resumed his march through South Carolina,(p. 400)the bummers were keener than ever. The whole army was eager to beginthe march. Each regiment, when it crossed the Savannah River, and setfoot in South Carolina, gave a cheer. They were in the hot-bed ofSecession.

"We'll make South Carolina howl!" they said.

I saw an unoccupied mansion, upon the floors of which were Brusselsand tapestry carpeting, and mirrors of French plate-glass adorned theparlor. There was a library with well-filled shelves, and in thedrawing-room a costly rosewood piano,—all of which in an hour werelicked up by the flames.

Far away to the north, as far as the eye could reach, were pillars ofsmoke, ascending from other plantations.

"We'll purify their Secession hate by fire," said one.

The soldiers evidently felt that they were commissioned to administerjustice in the premises, and commenced by firing the premises of theSouth Carolinians. They were avengers, and their path through thatproud State was marked by fire and desolation. "South Carolina beganthe Rebellion, and she shall suffer for it. If it had not been for herthere would have been no war. She is responsible for all the misery,woe, and bloodshed." Such was the universal sentiment.

Although Sherman's troops carried the torch in one hand and the swordin the other, and visited terrible retribution upon the Rebels, theywere quick to relieve the wants of the truly loyal. A few days beforereaching Savannah they came to a plantation owned by a man who throughall the war had remained faithful to the Union. He had been huntedthrough the woods with bloodhounds by the Rebel conscript officers.Hearing the Yankees had arrived, he came out from his hiding-place,and joined the Twentieth Corps, with the intention of accompanying itto Savannah. The soldiers made up for him a purse of one hundred andthirty dollars. When it was presented he burst into tears. He couldonly say, so great was his emotion, "Gentlemen, I most heartily thankyou. It is a kindness I never expected. I have been hunted throughswamps month after month. My wife and children have been half starved,insulted, and abused, and all because we loved the old flag."

(p. 401) The stories which were told by those refugees, of Union menand conscripts hunted by bloodhounds, of imprisonment and murder byRebels,—of the sufferings of the Union prisoners at Millen, Libby,Salisbury, and Andersonville,—wrought the soldiers of Sherman's armyinto a frenzy of wrath against South Carolina.

Mt. Vernon, Edward Everett, The Capitol, Savannah.

(p. 402) CHAPTER XXIV.
CHRISTIANITY AND BARBARISM.

When Sherman's army entered Savannah the people of that city were onthe verge of starvation. The Rebel authorities had not accumulatedsufficient supplies for a long defence. They were ignorant of theintentions of Sherman when he left Atlanta, and were unable to seethrough his plan till too late to put the place in condition towithstand a siege. Breastworks were hastily thrown up on the west sideof the city. The eastern approaches were strongly protected by aseries of forts, turrets, and batteries built by slaves at thebeginning of the war, in which were heavy guns commanding the riverand the roads. No one had dreamed that the Yankees would come from thewest. When Sherman was fairly on his march there was consternation inall the cities along the coast. Charleston expected him. Would he notaim directly toward the cradle of Secession? The people of Mobilebelieved that the fleet which was gathering in the Gulf was destinedto co-operate with the "ruthless invader" in an attack upon them. Theinhabitants of Brunswick expected to see him there. The citizens ofSavannah were equally alarmed. Proclamations and manifestoes wereissued. Governor Brown called upon the Georgians to rise in theirmight; but their former might was weakness now. They had lost heart.They saw that their cause was failing. Their armies, successful in thebeginning, had won no victory for many months. The appeals of theGovernor, the manifestoes of the Rebel generals, the calls ofmunicipal authorities, and the exhortations of Davis, awakened noenthusiasm. The planters did not hasten to the rendezvous, nor respondto the call to send provisions. The Rebel quartermasters andcommissaries were active in making forced levies, and the conscriptionbureau was vigilant in bringing in reluctant recruits; but beforepreparations for defending the city were completed Sherman wasthundering at the door.

(p. 403) When he saw the destitution, he made an appeal to thehumanity of the people of the North. Boston, New York, andPhiladelphia were quick to respond. In Boston thirty thousand dollarswere contributed in four days, a steamer chartered, loaded, anddespatched on its errand of mercy. The occasion being so unusual, Ideemed it worth while to visit Savannah, to be an eye-witness of thereception of the timely and munificent gift.

The employment of the steamer Greyhound on such a mission added to theinterest. She was a captured blockade-runner, built at Greenock,Scotland, in 1863, purposely to run the blockade. She made one tripinto Wilmington, and was seized while attempting to escape from thatport. In every timber, plank, rivet, and brace was England's hatred ofthe North, support of the South, and cupidity for themselves; but nowshe carried peace and good-will, not only to the people of Savannah,but to men of every clime and lineage, race and nation. The Greyhoundspeeding her way was a type and symbol of the American Republic,freighted with the world's best hopes, and sailing proudly forward tothe future centuries.

Among the passengers on board at the time of her capture was MissBelle Boyd, of notoriety as a spy,—bold, venturesome, and dashing,unscrupulous, bitter in her hatred of the Yankees, regardless of truthor honor, if she could but serve the Rebels. She was of great serviceto them in the Shenandoah. Being within the Union lines, she obtainedinformation which on several occasions enabled Jackson to make thosesudden dashes which gave him his early fame.

It was nearly dark on Saturday evening, January 14th, when theGreyhound discharged her pilot off Boston Light. The weather wasthick, the wind southeast, but during the night it changed to thenorthwest and blew a gale. The cold was intense. Sunday morning foundus in Holmes's Hole, covered with ice. At noon the gale abated, and weran swiftly across the Vineyard Sound, shaping our course forHatteras. Off Charleston we passed through the blockading fleet, whichwas gayly decorated in honor of the taking of Fort Fisher. The Rebelflag was floating defiantly over Sumter. On Thursday evening we(p. 404) dropped anchor off Port Royal, where a half-day was lost inobtaining permission from the custom-house to proceed to Savannah. Theobstructions in Savannah River made it necessary to enter Warsaw Soundand go up Wilmington River. With a colored pilot,—the only oneobtainable, recommended by the Harbor-Master of Hilton Head,—theGreyhound put to sea once more, ran down the coast, and on Sundaymorning entered the Sound. Our pilot professed to know all the crooksand turns of the river, but suddenly we found ourselves fast on amud-bank. It was ebb-tide, and the incoming flood floated us again.Then the engines refused to work, the pumps having become foul, andthe anchor was dropped just in season to save the steamer fromdrifting broadside upon a sandbar. It was ten miles to ThunderboltBattery. The captain of a pilot-boat was kind enough to send Messrs.Briggs and Baldwin, of the committee of the citizens of Boston incharge of the supplies, Mr. Glidden, of the firm owning the Greyhound,and the writer, up to that point. We landed, and stood where theRebels had made sad havoc of what was once a pleasant village. SomeIowa soldiers, on seediest horses and sorriest mules, were ridinground on a frolic. Shiftless, long-haired, red-eyed men and women,lounging about, dressed in coarsest homespun, stared at us. A score ofhorses and mules were in sight, and here were collected old carts,wagons, and carriages which Sherman's boys had brought from theinterior.

"We want to get a horse and wagon to take us to Savannah," said one ofthe party to a little old man, standing at the door of a house.

"Wal, I reckon ye can take any one of these yere," he said, pointingto the horses and mules. Such animals! Ringboned, spavined,knock-kneed, wall-eyed, sore-backed,—mere hides and bones, some ofthem too weak to stand, others unable to lie down on account of stiffjoints.

"How far is it to Savannah?" we asked of the residents of the village.

"Three miles," said one.

"Two miles and a half, I reckon," said a second.

"Three miles and three quarters," was the estimate of a third person.

(p. 405) A woman, dressed in a plaid petticoat, a snuff-coloredlinsey-woolsey tunic, with a tawny countenance, black hair, andflashing black eyes, smoking a pipe, said: "I'll tell yer how fur itbe. Savannah be a frying-pan and Thunderbolt be the handle, and I liveon the eend on it. It be four miles long, zactly."

Two colored soldiers rode up, both on one horse, with "55" on theircaps.

"What regiment do you belong to?"

"The Fifty-Fifth Massachusetts."

Their camp was a mile or so up river. A steamboat captain, who wishedto communicate with the quartermaster, came upstream in his boat andkindly offered to take us to the Fifty-Fifth. It began to rain, and welanded near a fine old mansion surrounded by live-oaks, their gnarledbranches draped with festoons of moss, where we thought to findaccommodations for the night; but no one answered our ringing. Thedoors were open, the windows smashed in; marble mantels, of elaborateworkmanship, marred and defaced; the walls written over with doggerel.There were bunks in the parlors, broken crockery, old boots,—débriseverywhere.

The committee took possession of the premises and made themselves athome before a roaring fire, while the writer went out upon areconnoissance, bringing back the intelligence that the camp of theFifty-Fifth was a mile farther up the river. It was dark when wereached the hospitable shanty of Lieutenant-Colonel Fox, who, in theabsence of Colonel Hartwell, was commanding the regiment, which hadbeen there but twenty-four hours. The soldiers had no tents.

One of the committee rode into Savannah, through a drenching rain, toreport to General Grover. The night came on thick and dark. The rainwas pouring in torrents. Colonel Fox, with great kindness, offered toescort us to a house near by, where we could find shelter. We splashedthrough the mud, holding on to each other's coat-tails, going overboots in muddy water, tumbling over logs, losing our way, beingscratched by brambles, falling into ditches, bringing up againsttrees, halting at length against a fence,—following which we reachedthe house. The owner had fled, and the occupant had moved in becauseit was a free country and the place was inviting. He(p. 406) had nobed for us, but quickly kindled a fire in one of the chambers andspread some quilts upon the floor. "I haven't much wood, but I reckonI can pick up something that will make a fire," said he. Then came thepitch-pine staves of a rice-cask; then a bedstead, a broken chair, awooden flowerpot!

The morning dawned bright and clear. General Grover sent out horsesfor us, and so we reached the city after many vexatious delays andrough experiences.

The people in Savannah generally were ready to live once more in theUnion. The fire of Secession had died out. There was not muchsourness,—less even than I saw at Memphis when that city fell intoour hands, less than was manifested in Louisville at the beginning ofthe war.

At a meeting of the citizens resolutions expressive of gratitude forthe charity bestowed by Boston, New York, and Philadelphia werepassed, also of a desire for future fellowship and amity.

A store at the corner of Bay and Barnard Streets was taken for adepot, the city canvassed, and a registry made of all who were inwant. I passed a morning among the people who came for food. The airwas keen. Ice had formed in the gutters, and some of the jolly youngnegroes, who had provided themselves with old shoes and boots from thecamp-grounds of Sherman's soldiers, were enjoying the luxuriouspastime of a slide on the ice. The barefooted cuddled under the sunnyside of the buildings. There was a motely crowd. Hundreds of bothsexes, all ages, sizes, complexions, and costumes; gray-haired old menof Anglo-Saxon blood, with bags, bottles, and baskets; coloredpatriarchs, who had been in bondage many years, suddenly made freemen;well-dressed women wearing crape for their husbands and sons who hadfallen while fighting against the old flag, stood patiently waitingtheir turn to enter the building, where through the open doors theycould see barrels of flour, pork, beans, and piles of bacon, hogsheadsof sugar, molasses, and vinegar. There were women with tattereddresses,—old silks and satins, years before in fashion, and laidaside as useless, but which now had become valuable throughdestitution.

(p. 407) There were women in linsey-woolsey, in negro and gunny cloth,in garments made from meal-bags, and men in Confederate gray andbutternut brown; a boy with a crimson plush jacket, made from theupholstering of a sofa; men in short jackets, and little boys in longones; the cast-off clothes of soldiers; the rags which had been pickedup in the streets, and exhumed from garrets; boots and shoes down atthe heel, open at the instep, and gaping at the toes; old bonnets ofevery description, some with white and crimson feathers, and ribbonsonce bright and flaunting; hats of every style worn by both sexes,palm-leaf, felt, straw, old and battered and well ventilated. Onewithout a crown was worn by a man with red hair, suggestive of achimney on fire, and flaming out at the top! It was the ragman'sjubilee for charity.

One of the tickets issued by the city authorities, in the hand of awoman waiting her turn at the counter, read thus:—

Andersonville, Belle Isle, Libby Prison, Millen, and Salisbury willforever stand in suggestive contrast to this City Store in Savannah,furnished by the free-will offering of the loyal people of the North.

"At Libby," reads the report of the United States Sanitary Committee,"a process of slow starvation was carried on. The corn-bread was ofthe roughest and coarsest description. Portions of the cob and huskwere often found grated in with the meal. The crust was so thick andhard that the prisoners called it 'iron clad.' To render the breadeatable they grated it, and made mush of it; but the crust they couldnot grate. Now and then, after long intervals, often of many weeks, alittle meat was given them, perhaps two or three mouthfuls. At a laterperiod they received a pint of black peas, with some vinegar, everyweek; the peas were often full of worms, or maggots in a chrysalisstate, which, when they made soup, floated on the surface.... But themost unaccountable and shameful act of all was yet to come. Shortlyafter this(p. 408) general diminution of rations, in the month ofJanuary, the boxes (sent by friends in the North to the prisoners),which before had been regularly delivered, and in good order, werewithheld. No reason was given. Three hundred arrived every week, andwere received by Colonel Ould, Commissioner of Exchange; but insteadof being distributed, they were retained and piled up in warehousesnear by, in full sight of the tantalized and hungry captives."[75]

While these supplies were being distributed to the people of Savannah,thirty thousand Union prisoners in the hands of the Rebels inSouthwestern Georgia were starving to death,—not from a scarcity offood, but in accordance with a deliberately formed plan to render themunfit for future service in the Union ranks by their inhumantreatment, should they live to be exchanged.

What a page of darkness for the future historian!

On the other hand, the Rebel prisoners in the North receivedinvariably the same rations, in quality and quantity, given to theUnion soldiers in the field, with ample clothing, fuel, and shelter.So unexceptional was their treatment, that since the war a Southernwriter, desirous of removing the load of infamy resting upon theSouth, has advertised for statements of unkind treatment in Northernprisons![76]

Of the treatment of Union soldiers in the Southern prisons the UnitedStates Sanitary Commission says:—

"The prisoners were almost invariably robbed of everything valuable in their possession; sometimes on the field, at the instant of capture, sometimes by the prison authorities, in a quasi-official way, with the promise of return when exchanged or paroled, but which promise was never fulfilled. This robbery amounted often to a stripping of the person of even necessary clothing. Blankets and overcoats were almost always taken, and sometimes other articles; in which case damaged ones were returned in their stead. This preliminary over, the captives were taken to prison."

At the trial of Wirz, the commandant of Andersonville, Dr. John C.Bates, a surgeon of the Rebel service, testified as follows:—

(p. 409) "My attention was called to a patient in my ward who was only fifteen or sixteen years of age. I took much interest in him, owing to his youth. He would ask me to bring him a potato, bread, or biscuit, which I did. I put them in my pocket. He had scurvy and gangrene. I advised him not to cook the potato, but to eat it raw. He became more and more emaciated, his sores gangrened, and for want of food, and from lice, he died. I understood that it was against orders to take anything in to the prisoners, and hence I was shy in slipping food into my pockets. Others in the ward came to their death from the same causes. When I went there, there were two thousand or two thousand five hundred sick. I judge twenty or twenty-five thousand persons were crowded together. Some had made holes and burrows in the earth. Those under the sheds were doing comparatively well. I saw but little shelter, excepting what ingenuity had devised. I found them suffering with scurvy, dropsy, diarrhœa, gangrene, pneumonia, and other diseases. When prisoners died, they were laid in wagons, head foremost, to be carried off. I don't know how they were buried. The effluvia from the hospital was very offensive. If by accident my hand was abraded, I would not go into the hospital without putting a plaster over the affected part. If persons whose systems were reduced by inanition should by chance stump a toe or scratch the hand, the next report to me was gangrene, so potent was the regular hospital gangrene. The prisoners were more thickly confined in the stockade,—like ants and bees. Dogs were kept to hunt down the prisoners who escaped. Fifty per cent of those who died might have been saved had the patients been properly cared for. The effect of the treatment of the prisoners was, morally as well as physically, injurious. There was much stealing among them. All lived each for himself. I suppose this was superinduced by their starving condition. Seeing the dying condition of some of them, I remarked to my student, 'I can't resuscitate them; the weather is chilling; it is a matter of impossibility.' I found persons lying dead sometimes among the living. Thinking they merely slept, I went to wake them up and found they had taken their everlasting sleep. This was in the hospital. I judge it was about the same in the stockade. There being no dead-house, I erected a tent for the purpose, but I soon found that a blanket or quilt had been clipped off the canvas; and as the material could not be readily supplied, the dead-house was abandoned. I don't think any more dead-houses were erected. The daily ration was less in September, October, November, and December than it was from the 1st of January to the 20th of March. The men had not over twenty ounces of food in the twenty-four hours."

The prison at Andersonville was established in January,(p. 410)1864, and was used a little more than a year. It was in the form of aquadrangle, 1,295 feet long, 865 feet wide. A small stream, risingfrom neighboring springs, flowed through the grounds. Within theenclosure, seventeen feet from the stockade, the dead-line wasestablished, marked by small posts, to which a slight strip of boardwas nailed. Upon the inner stockade were fifty-two sentry-boxes, inwhich the guards stood with loaded muskets; while overlooking theenclosure were several forts, with field artillery in position, topour grape and canister upon the perishing men at the first sign ofinsurrection.

Miss Clara Barton, the heroic and tender-hearted woman who, in theemploy of government, visited this charnel-house to identify thegraves of the victims, thus reports:—

"Under the most favorable circumstances and best possible management the supply of water would have been insufficient for half the number of persons who had to use it. The existing arrangements must have aggravated the evil to the utmost extent. The sole establishments for cooking and baking were placed on the bank of the stream immediately above and between the two inner lines of the pallisades. The grease and refuse from them were found adhering to the banks at the time of our visit. The guards, to the number of three thousand six hundred, were principally encamped on the upper part of the stream, and when the heavy rains washed down the hillsides covered with thirty thousand human beings, and the outlet below failed to discharge the flood which backed and filled the valley, the water must have become so foul and loathsome that every statement I have seen of its offensiveness must fall short of the reality; and yet within rifle-shot of the prison flowed a stream, fifteen feet wide and three feet deep, of pure, delicious water. Had the prison been placed so as to include a section of 'Sweet Water Creek,' the inmates might have drank and bathed to their hearts' content."[77]

The prisoners had no shelter from the fierce sun of summer, thepelting autumn rains, or the cold of winter, except a few tatteredtents. Thousands were destitute of blankets. For refuge they dugburrows in the ground.

Miss Barton says:—

Twelve thousand nine hundred and ninety graves are numbered on theneighboring hillside,—the starved and murdered of thirteenmonths,—one thousand per month, thirty-three per day! Murdered byJeff Davis, Robert E. Lee, James Seddon, and John C. Breckenridge!Murdered under official sanction, in accordance with premeditateddesign. Davis, Lee, Seddon, and Breckenridge may not have issuedorders to starve the prisoners; but if cognizant of any inhumanity, itwas in the power of Davis to stop it, and of Lee, ascommander-in-chief of the army, as also of Sedden, and after himBreckenridge, secretaries of war. A word from either of theseofficials would have secured humane treatment.

General Lee is beloved by the Southern people for his amiability, hisgentleness and generosity, as well as his unselfish devotion to thecause of Secession. But the historian will doubtless keep in mind thatto be amiable is to be worthy of esteem and confidence. Those who haveespoused the cause of the Union cannot discover much amiability in onewho remained in the service of the government as the confidant of thecommander-in-chief of the army of the United States till hostilitieswere commenced, and then, three days after his resignation, acceptedthe command of the Rebel forces in Virginia. Fort(p. 412) Sumter wasfired upon April 12, 1861. General Lee resigned his commission in theservice of the United States on the 19th, and on the 22d took commandof Rebel troops at Richmond. The State had not then seceded. Theordinance of Secession was passed by the convention on the 17th of thesame month, to be submitted to popular vote for ratification on thethird Tuesday of May. Without waiting for the action of the people ofhis State, General Lee issued his military orders and waged waragainst the United States.

The future historian will not overlook the fact that General Lee, ifnot issuing direct orders for the starvation of Union prisoners, madeno remonstrance against the barbarities of Andersonville, or of thecourse taken to debauch the patriotism of the Union soldiers. It waspromised that whoever would acknowledge allegiance to the Confederacy,or consent to make shoes or harness or clothing for the Rebels, shouldhave the privilege of going out from the stockade, and findingcomfortable quarters and plenty of food and clothing. Thus tempted,some faltered, while others died rather than be released on suchterms, preferring, in their love for the flag, to be thrown like logsinto the dead-cart, and tumbled into the shallow trenches on thehillside!

Among the prisoners was a lad who pined for his far-off Northern home.Often his boyish heart went out lovingly to his father and mother andfair-haired sister. How could he die in that prison! How close hiseyes on all the bright years of the future! How lie down in death inthat loathsome place, when, by taking the oath of allegiance to theSouthern Confederacy, he could obtain freedom? His comrades weredying. Every day the dead-cart came and bore them away by scores andhundreds. What a sight their stony eyes, sunken cheeks, and swayinglimbs! Around him was a crowd of living skeletons.

"Take the oath and you shall live," said the tempter. What a trial!Life was sweet. All that a man hath will he give for his life. Howblessed if he could but hear once more the voice of his mother, orgrasp again a father's hand! What wonder that hunger, despair, anddeath, and the example of some of his comrades, made him weaklyhesitate?

Too feeble to walk or to stand, he crawled away from the(p. 413)dying and the dead, over the ground reeking with filth. He had almostreached the gate beyond which were life and liberty. A comrade,stronger and older, suspected his purpose. Through the long, wearymonths this brave soldier had solaced his heart by taking at timesfrom his bosom a little flag,—the stars and stripes,—adoring it asthe most sacred of all earthly things. He held it before the boy. Itwas the flag he loved. He had sworn to support it,—never to forsakeit. He had stood beneath it in the fierce conflict, quailing not whenthe death-storm was thickest. Tears dimmed his eyes as he beheld itonce more. Tremblingly he grasped it with his skeleton fingers, kissedit, laid it on his heart, and cried, "God help me! I can't turn myback upon it. O comrade, I am dying; but I want you, if ever you getout of this horrible place, to tell my mother that I stood by the oldflag to the last!"

And then, with the flag he loved lying on his heart, he closed hiseyes, and his soul passed on to receive that reward which awaits thoseto whom duty is greater than life.

"On Fame's eternal camping-ground
Their silent tents are spread,
And Glory guards, with solemn round,
The bivouac of the dead."

This is the contrast between Christian charity and barbaric hate,—notthat all the people of the South were inhuman, or that men there areby nature more wicked than all others; but the barbarity was thelegitimate outgrowth of slavery.

The armies of the South fought bravely and devotedly to establish aConfederacy with slavery for its corner-stone; but not their valor,sacrifice, and endurance, not Stonewall Jackson's religious enthusiasmor intrepidity, not Lee's military exploits, can avail to blot thehorrors of Andersonville from the historic record. Their cause

"Hath the primal, eldest curse upon it,
A brother's murder."

(p. 414) CHAPTER XXV.
SCENES IN SAVANNAH.

As I intended to spend some days in Savannah, I set out one afternoonin search of lodgings more commodious than those furnished at thePulaski House, and I was directed to a house owned by a gentleman who,during the war, had resided in Paris,—a large brick mansion, frontingon one of the squares, elegantly finished and furnished. It had beentaken care of, through the war, by two faithful negroes, Robert andhis wife Aunt Nellie, both of them slaves.

I rang the bell, and was ushered into the basement by their daughterEllen, also a slave. Robert was fifty-three years of age,—a tall,stout, coal-black, slow-spoken, reflective man. Aunt Nellie was a yearor two younger. Her features were of the African type; her eyes largeand lustrous. Her deportment was lady-like, her language refined. Shewore a gingham dress, and a white turban.

Ellen, the daughter, had a fair countenance, regular features, oflighter hue than either father or mother. She appeared as much at easeas most young ladies who are accustomed to the amenities of society.

Aunt Nellie called me by name.

"I saw you yesterday at church," she said.

She placed a chair for me before the fire, which burned cheerfully onthe hearth. There was a vase of amaranths on the mantel, andlithographs on the walls. A clock ticked in one corner. There werecushioned arm-chairs. The room was neat and tidy, and had an air ofcheerfulness. A little boy, four or five years old, was sitting by theside of Aunt Nellie,—her grand-nephew. He looked up wonderingly atthe stranger, then gazed steadily into the fire with comical gravity.

"You are from Boston, I understand," said Aunt Nellie. "I never havebeen to Boston, but I have been to New York several times with mymaster."

(p. 415) "Did you have any desire to stay North?"

"No, sir, I can't say that I had. This was my home; my children andfriends, and my husband were all here."

"But did you not wish to be free?"

"That is a very different thing, sir. God only knows how I longed tobe free; but my master was very kind. They used to tell me in New Yorkthat I could be free; but I couldn't make up my mind to leave master,and my husband. Perhaps if I had been abused as some of my peoplehave, I should have thought differently about it."

"Well, you are free now. I suppose that you never expected to see sucha day as this!"

"I can't say that I expected to see it, but I knew it would come. Ihave prayed for it. I didn't hardly think it would come in my time,but I knew it must come, for God is just."

"Did you not sometimes despair?"

"Never! sir; never! But O, it has been a terrible mystery, to know whythe good Lord should so long afflict my people, and keep them inbondage,—to be abused, and trampled down, without any rights of theirown,—with no ray of light in the future. Some of my folks said therewasn't any God, for if there was he wouldn't let white folks do asthey have done for so many years; but I told them to wait,—and nowthey see what they have got by waiting. I told them that we were allof one blood,—white folks and black folks all come from one man andone woman, and that there was only one Jesus for all.I knew it,—Iknew it!" She spoke as if it were an indisputable fact which had comeby intuition.

Here Aunt Nellie's sister and her husband came in.

"I hope to make your better acquaintance," she said, courtesying. Itis a common form of expression among the colored people of some partsof the South. She was larger, taller, and stouter than Aunt Nellie,younger in years, less refined,—a field hand,—one who had drunkdeeply of the terrible cup which slavery had held to her lips. Shewore a long gray dress of coarse cloth,—a frock with sleeves,gathered round the neck with a string,—the cheapest possiblecontrivance for a dress, her only garment, I judged.

"These are new times to you," I said.

(p. 416) "It is a dream, sir,—a dream! 'Pears like I don't know whereI am. When General Sherman come and said we were free, I didn'tbelieve it, and I wouldn't believe it till the minister (Rev. Mr.French) told us that we were free. It don't seem as if I was free,sir." She looked into the fire a moment, and sat as if in a dream, butroused herself as I said,—

"Yes, you are free."

"But that don't give me back my children,—my children, that I broughtforth with pains such as white women have,—that have been torn frommy breast, and sold from me; and when I cried for them was tied up andhad my back cut to pieces!"

She stopped talking to me, raised her eyes as if looking intoheaven,—reached up her hands imploringly, and cried in agony,—

"O Lord Jesus, have mercy! How long, O Lord? Come, Jesus, and help me.'Pears like I can't bear it, dear Lord. They is all taken from me,Lord. 'Pears like as if my heart would break. O blessed Jesus, theysay that I am free, but where are my children!—my children!—mychildren!"

Her hands fell,—tears rolled down her cheeks. She bowed her head, andsat moaning, wailing, and sobbing.

"You wouldn't believe me," said Aunt Nellie, speaking to her. "Yousaid that there was no use in praying for deliverance; that it was nouse to trust God,—that he had forgotten us!"

She rose and approached her sister, evidently to call her mind fromthe terrible reality of the past. "You used to come in here and goworry, worry, worry all day and all night, and say it was no use; thatyou might as well die; that you would be a great deal better off ifyou were dead. You wouldn't believe me when I said that the Lord wouldgive deliverance. You wouldn't believe that the Lord was good; butjust see what he has done for you,—made you free. Aren't you willingto trust him now?"

The sister made no reply, but sat wiping away her tears, and sighingover the fate of her children.

"Did you not feel sometimes like rising against your masters?" Iasked of the husband.

(p. 417) "Well, sir, I did feel hard sometimes, and I reckon that ifit hadn't been for the grace which Jesus gave us we should have doneso; but he had compassion on us, and helped us to bear it. We knewthat he would hear us some time."

"Did you ever try to escape?"

"No, sir. I was once interested in colonization, and talked of goingto Africa,—of buying myself, and go there and be free. Rev. Mr.Gurley came here and gave a lecture. He was the agent of theColonization Society, I reckon; but just then there was so muchexcitement among the slaves about it, that our masters put a stop toit."

"The good people of Boston are heaping coals of fire on the heads ofthe slaveholders and Rebels," said Aunt Nellie.

"How so?" I asked.

"Why, as soon as General Sherman took possession of the city, you senddown ship-loads of provisions to them. They have fought you with alltheir might, and you whip them, and then go to feeding them."

"I 'spect you intended that black and white folks should have themalike," said her sister.

"Yes, that was the intention."

"Not a mouthful have I had. I am as poor as white folks. All my life Ihave worked for them. I have given them houses and lands; they haverode in their fine carriages, sat in their nice parlors, taken voyagesover the waters, and had money enough, which I and my people earnedfor them. I have had my back cut up. I have been sent to jail becauseI cried for my children, which were stolen from me. I have beenstripped of my clothing, exposed before men. My daughters have beencompelled to break God's commandment,—they couldn't helpthemselves,—I couldn't help them; white men have done with us just asthey pleased. Now they turn me out of my poor old cabin, and say theyown it. O dear Jesus, help me!"

"Come, come, sister, don't take on; but you just give thanks for whatthe Lord has done for you," said Aunt Nellie.

Her sister rose, stately as a queen, and said,—

"I thank you, sir, for your kind words to me to-night. I thank all thegood people in the North for what they have done for me and mypeople. The good Lord be with you."

(p. 418) As she and her husband left the room, Aunt Nellie said,—

"Poor girl! she can't forget her children. She's cried for them dayand night."

Never till then had I felt the full force of Whittier's burninglines:—

The night of the 28th of January was a fearful one in Savannah. Theinhabitants experienced all the terror of a bombardment combined withthe horror of a great conflagration. A fire broke out a little beforemidnight in a long row of wooden buildings at the west end of thecity. The wind was fresh from the northwest, and the night exceedinglycold. My rooms were in the Pulaski House. I was awakened by a suddenexplosion, which jarred the house, and heard the cry that the arsenalwas on fire.

There was another explosion,—then a volley of shells, and largefragments came whirring through the air, striking the walls, orfalling with a heavy plunge into the street.

"There are three thousand shells in the building," said a soldierrunning past, fleeing as if for his life.

"There are fifty tons of powder, which will go off presently," saidanother, in breathless haste. Fifty tons of powder! Savannah(p. 419)would be racked to its foundations! There would be a general crumblingof walls. Men, women, and children were running,—crying, and in fearof being crushed beneath the ruins of falling buildings.

It was the Rebel arsenal. I could not believe that the Rebels wouldstore fifty tons of powder in the city, and waited for the generalexplosion. It did not come. Gradually I worked my way, under theshelter of buildings, towards the fire. The fire-engines weredeserted, and the fire was having its own way, licking up thebuildings, one after another, remorselessly.

It was a gorgeous sight,—the flames leaping high in air, thrown up incolumns by the thirteen-inch shells, filling the air with burningtimbers, cinders, and myriads of sparks. The streets were filled withfugitives. The hospitals were being cleared of sick and wounded, thehouses of furniture.

It was grand, but terrible. General Grover at once took measures toarrest the progress of the flames, by tearing down buildings, andbringing up several regiments, which, with the citizens and negroes,succeeded in mastering the destroying element.

In the morning there was a wilderness of chimneys, and the streetswere strewn with furniture.

It was amusing to see with what good humor andnonchalance thecolored people and the soldiers regarded the conflagration.

Two negro women passed me, carrying great bundles on their heads.

"I's clean burned out," said one.

"So is I"; and they both laughed as if it was very funny.

"Let 'em burn: who cares?" said one soldier. "They have fought us, andnow let 'em suffer."

"We have got to do guard duty, and it is a little more comfortable tobe quartered in a house than to sleep in a shelter-tent, so let ussave the place," said another; and the two went to work with a will tosubdue the flames.

General Sherman's Special Field Order No. 15, dated January 16, 1865,permitted the freedmen to take possession of the abandoned lands. Ameeting—called by General Saxton, who had been appointedInspector—was held in the Second(p. 420) African Baptist Church, alarge building, which was crowded to its utmost capacity by thecolored people. It was the first meeting ever held in Savannah havingin view the exclusive interests of the colored people.

The organist was playing a voluntary when I entered the church. He wasa free colored man, a native of Charleston, having a bullet-shapedhead, bright, sparkling eyes, and a pleasant voice. He had lived inSavannah nine years, and was a music-teacher,—giving instruction onthe violin, piano-forte, and organ, also vocal music, to persons ofhis own race. He was in the habit of putting in clandestinely some ofthe rudiments of the English language, although it was against thepeace and dignity of the State. He dared to open a school, and taughtin secret in the evening; but a policeman discovered that he was anincendiary, and he was compelled to hide till the matter wasforgotten.

"When the voluntary was completed, the choir sung Rev. Mr. Smith'sAmerican hymn,—

"My country, 'tis of thee,
Sweet land of liberty,
Of thee I sing."

Their country! Their liberty! The words were no longer meaningless.

By request of General Saxton, they also sang Bishop Heber's Missionaryhymn,—

"From Greenland's icy mountains,
From India's coral strand,
Where Afric's sunny fountains
Roll down their golden sand,
From many an ancient river,
From many a palmy plain,
They call us to deliver
Their land from error's chain."

General Saxton addressed them.

"I have come to tell you what the President of the United States hasdone for you," said he.

"God bless Massa Linkum!" was the response of a thousand voices.

"You are all free."

"Glory to God! Hallelujah! Amen!" they shouted in tumultuous chorus.

Sherman's "bummers."

(p. 421) He explained the cause of the war: how the Rebels fired uponthe flag, how they hated freedom, and wished to perpetuate slavery,which produced the war, that, in turn, under God's providence, hadmade them free men. They were free, but they must labor to live. Theirrelations to their masters had all been changed. They could go wherethey pleased, do what they pleased, provided they did that which wasright; but they had no claim upon their masters,—they must work forthemselves. All wealth came from the soil, and by cultivating theground they could obtain food, and thus increase their wealth. He readand explained General Sherman's order, and told them of theadvancement which the freedmen had made at Beaufort. They hadcomfortable homes, their children were attending school, and the menand women had almost forgotten that they had been slaves. One man hadaccumulated ten thousand dollars in four years; another was worth fivethousand. He advised them to go upon the islands and take possessionof the abandoned lands. He also advised the young and able-bodied toenlist in the service of the United States. They were citizens, andthey must begin to do their part as citizens. They were free, butthere was still some fighting to be done to secure their liberty.

Rev. Mr. French also addressed them.

"Your freedom," said he, "is the gift of God. The President hasproclaimed it, and the brave men of General Sherman's army havebrought it to you."

"God bless General Sherman! Amen! That's so!" were the enthusiasticresponses. They clapped their hands and gave expression to their joyin emphatic demonstrations. It was a strange sight,—a sea of turbanedheads in the body of the house, occupied by the women, wearingbrightest colored handkerchiefs, or bonnets with flaming ribbons;while above, in the galleries, were two sable clouds of faces. Everywindow was filled by a joyous, enthusiastic crowd.

"You are to show your late masters that you can take care ofyourselves. If I were in your place I would go, if I had to live onroots and water, and take possession of the islands," said Mr. French.

"Yes, sir, dat is what we will do. We're gwine."

(p. 422) "Show your old masters that you can work as hard to keep outof slavery as they did to keep you in bondage. And you must have butone wife, instead of two or three, as you used to do."

There was a great sensation at this point,—an outburst of laughterechoing and re-echoing from floor to ceiling. I was utterly unable tounderstand how the remark was received, but the sable audienceevidently looked upon it as a very funny affair. The negro race has aquick and natural appreciation of anything bordering upon theridiculous. They boil over with uncontrollable merriment at a verysmall matter.

"Treat your old masters with all respect; be generous and kind tothem. This is your day of rejoicing, and they are drinking their cupof sorrow. Do them good,—help them. Break off bad habits,—be goodcitizens, truthful and honest. Now, all of you who are ready toscratch for a living,—who are resolved to make your own way in theworld,—hold up your hands."

Up went a thousand hands.

"You owe your liberty to the men of the North, to President Lincoln,to the thousands who have died,—to Jesus Christ."

Deep and solemn was the Amen,—a spontaneous outburst of gratitude,welling up from their sympathetic and affectionate natures.

A prayer was offered by Rev. Mr. Houston, of the Third African BaptistChurch. It was impassioned, fervent, and earnest, in which there werethanksgiving, confession of sin, and a pleading for God's help. ThePresident, the Union army, the Federal government, were remembered. Heprayed also that God would bring the Rebels to see that they ought tolay down their arms and be at peace.

Then in conclusion they sang the hymn,—

"Eternal are thy mercies, Lord,
Eternal truth attends thy word."

How gloriously the grand old choral of Luther rang! Old mensang,—tottering upon the verge of the grave, their heads white, theirvoices tremulous, their sight dim; women with scarred backssang,—who had toiled unrequited in the malarious(p. 423)rice-swamps, who had prayed in dungeons and prisons, who had wept andmoaned for their stolen babes,—for their husbands, mangled and tornby bloodhounds. But that was all of the past. The day of jubilee haddawned. They had cried day and night, "O Lord, how long!" But now theyhad only thanksgiving and praise.

After the meeting there was a general shaking of hands. "Bless de Lordfor dis yere day." "May de good Lord be wid you." "I never 'spected tosee dis yere day; but de praise belongs to de good Lord; he be widyou, brudder."

Such were the congratulations. There were none of the white people ofSavannah present. Before the men of the West entered the city, such agathering, even for religious worship, would have been incendiaryunless attended by white men. But it was an inauguration of a newera,—a beginning of the settlement of the question over whichphilanthropists, politicians, and statesmen had puzzled theirphilosophic brains: "What shall we do with them?"

Rev. Mr. Houston accompanied me to my room, and gave me a history ofhis life. He was forty-one years old, had always been a slave, andreceived his freedom at the hands of General Sherman. When a boy hismaster hired him out to the Marine Hospital. Waiting upon the sailors,he had an opportunity to hear a great deal about the world. They hadbooks and papers. He had a desire to learn to read, and they, nothaving the black laws of Georgia before their eyes, taught him hisletters. Then obtaining a Bible, and other books, he read with greatzeal. He wanted to be a preacher, and after examination by the BaptistAssociation, was ordained to preach by white men. He purchased histime before the war, paying fifty dollars a month to his master, andbecame a provision-dealer, yet preaching on Sundays. He leased thelower story of a building fronting the market, where he sold his meatand where he lived. Above him, up two flights, was the slave-mart ofSavannah. He used to go into the country, up the railroad to thecentre of the State, to purchase cattle, and became well acquaintedwith the planters. He heard their discussions on current affairs, andthus received information upon the politics of the country. He gavean account of the state of affairs, of opinions held in the(p. 424)North and in the South at the time when Fremont was a candidate forthe Presidency.

"We knew that he was our friend," said Mr. Houston, "and we wanted himelected. We were very much disappointed at the result of thatelection; but we kept hoping and praying that God would have mercy onus as a race."

"Did your people understand the points at issue between the South andthe North, when the war begun?" I asked.

"Yes, sir, I think we did. When South Carolina fired on Sumter weunderstood that the North was fighting for the Union. The flag hadbeen insulted, and we thought that you of the North would have spunkenough to resent the insult. Those of us who could read the papersknew that the points at issue really were between Freedom andSlavery."

"What did you think when we were defeated at Manassas? Did you notdespair?"

"No, sir. I knew that the North would not give in for one defeat. Someof our people were down-hearted, but I had faith in God, sir. I feltthat the war must go on till we were made free. Besides, we prayed,sir! There have been a great many prayers, sir, offered up frombroken-hearted men and women,—from negro cabins, not in public,—forthe success of the North. They could not offer such supplications atchurch; they were offered to a God who sees in secret, but who rewardsopenly. We are receiving all we ever asked for. Bless his holy name."

"You have seen people sold in the market, I suppose?"

"O yes, sir, thousands of them. O, sir, it seems as if I now couldhear the groans and cries of mothers and fathers as they marched downthose stairs out into the street in gangs,—their chains rattling andclanking on the stairs. It was hell, sir! The wailings of the damnedcan never be more heart-rending, as they were driven out, crying, 'OLord! have mercy! O massa, don't! don't! O my poor children!'"

His eyes shone with a strange light. The muscles of his handstightened. He arose and walked the room, wiped the tears from hiseyes, but composing himself sat down, and said; "Iniquity was at itsheight when the war began, and it continued till General Shermancame. O, it was terrible! terrible!(p. 425) to be there in that roomon the lower floor, and see the hundreds taken out,—to see themnabbed in the streets, or taken from their beds at dead of night bythe sheriff, and sold at once; for since the war began white men havebeen obliged often to raise money suddenly, and slave property beingespecially insecure, we were liable to be sold at any moment. Runawayslaves were whipped unmercifully. Last summer I saw one receive fivehundred lashes out on the Gulf Railroad, because he couldn't give anaccount of himself. The man who kept the slave-market left the citywith a large number of slaves just before Sherman came, taking themSouth; but he is back in the city. He is a bitter old Rebel."

Mr. Houston and a party of freedmen had been to Skidaway Island totake possession of lands under General Sherman's order, and commence acolony.

They laid out a village, also farm lots of forty acres, set aside onecentral lot for a church, another for a school-house; then placingnumbers in a hat, made the allotment. It was Plymouth Colony repeatingitself. They agreed that if any others came to join them they shouldhave equal privileges. So the Mayflower was blooming on the islands ofthe South Atlantic!

"We shall build our cabins and organize our town government for themaintenance of order," said Mr. Houston.

"I told you that I hired my time of my master," said he. "My masterhired my money, and when I asked him for it he refused to pay me; andas I had no power before the law, I could not compel him, and havelost it. I have about five hundred hides, which I would like to sendNorth. I want to purchase a portable saw-mill. We shall needlumber,—must have it to build our houses and our church."

Such was his plan,—indicating a foresight which gave promise of aprosperous future.

Passing by a church, I saw the sexton, with brush in hand, sweepingthe aisles. The edifice was a substantial, ancient structure, with amahogany pulpit of the old style, a broad aisle, chandelier pendentfrom the arched roof, filagree and panel-work around the galleries.Old and aristocratic families had sat in the cushioned pews,—men ofvast wealth, owning(p. 426) houses, lands, and slaves. A great organloomed high up in the gallery, its gilt pipes fronting the pulpit.Marriages and funerals had been solemnized at the altar. For fifteenyears, Sunday after Sunday, this sexton had faithfully discharged hisduties at the church.

He was stout, thick-set, strong, with well-developed muscles and aclear eye. He was gentlemanly in his deportment, and his voice was oneof the most musical I ever heard.

"Shall I take a look at the church?"

"Certainly, sir. Walk in."

His words were as if he had chanted them, so faultless the tone,inflection, and cadence. His features were well formed, but anthracitecoal is not blacker than his complexion. I was interested in him atonce. He leaning upon his broom, and sitting in one of the pews, had afree conversation upon the events of his life.

He was born in Norfolk, Virginia, in 1829.

"My old master died," said he, "and I fell to his son, who went off tocollege and got to spreeing it, lost all his property, and of course Ihad to be sold. I brought twelve hundred dollars,—that was in1849,—but another man offered the man who bought me a hundred andfifty dollars bonus for his bargain, which was accepted, and I wasbrought to Charleston. I have always been a slave."

"But you are a free man now; just as free as I am."

"Yes, sir, so General Sherman told me. I had a talk with him; and hetalked just as free with me as if I was his own brother. But I don'tfeel it in my heart, sir, to go away and leave my old master, now thathe is poor, and calamity has come upon him."

"Has he always treated you well?"

"Yes, sir,—that is, he never scarred my back. Some masters are mightyhard, sir. I don't blame some negroes for running away from theirmasters now that they can, for they have been treated mighty bad, sir;but my master has had great calamity come upon him, sir. When I wasbrought here from Norfolk, master's son Bob, who is in Texas,—acaptain in the Southern army now,—saw me, and liked me, and I likedhim, and his father bought me for Bob, and Bob and I have(p. 427)been like brothers to each other. I have no complaint to make. Butmaster has lost two sons in Virginia. One of them was killed in thefirst battle of Manassas."

"I suppose you have heard many prayers here for Jeff Davis?"

"Yes, sir, and mighty fine sermons for the Southern army, sir; andthere have been solemn scenes in this church, sir. Six bodies, oneSunday, after the first battle of Manassas, were here in this broadaisle. I had the communion-table set out here, right in front of thepulpit, and there they lay,—six of 'em. I couldn't help crying when Isaw 'em, for they were just like old friends to me. They used toattend the Sunday school when they were boys, and used to cut up alittle wild, and it was my business to keep 'em straight. Theybelonged to the Oglethorpe Light Infantry, and went with ColonelBartow. They went away gayly, and thought they were going to Richmondto have a nice time. Their mothers and sisters told them to go andfight the Yankees. They didn't expect to see them brought back dead, Ireckon. It was a sad day, sir."

"Then the women were as eager as the men for the war?"

"Yes, sir,—more. They were crazy about fighting the Yankees. I knowthat some of the boys didn't want to fight against the flag, but thewomen made 'em. The men had to wear Secession badges, as something toshow that they were for the South. If it hadn't been for the ladies, Ireckon we wouldn't have had the war."

"What do the women think now?"

"Well, sir, some of them are as bitter as ever they were against theYankees, but I reckon they don't care to say much; and then there areothers who see it ain't no use to try to hold out any longer. Thereare lots of 'em who have lost their husbands and brothers and sons. Ireckon there are very few of the Light Infantry left. I know 'em all,for I took care of their hall,—their armory,—and they made me hoistthe flag one day union down. That made me feel very bad, sir. I alwaysloved the flag, and I love it now better than ever. It makes me feelbad to think that my boys fought against it (he meant the boys whoattended the Sunday school). But I reckon it is the Lord's doing, sir,and that it will be a blessing to us in the end."

(p. 428) "Can you read and write?" I asked.

"A little, sir. I never had any one to show me, but I used to sit downhere in the pews and take up the hymn-book, and spell out the words,and one day master Bob set me a copy in writing, and so I have learneda little. I can read the newspapers, sir, and have kept track of thewar."

Upon the first battle of Manassas, the Peninsular campaigns, theblowing up of the Merrimac, the battles of Antietam, Gettysburg,Vicksburg, New Orleans, and Sherman's campaign, he was well informed.He had a brother who was fighting for the Union.

"He is a brave fellow, and I know he won't show the white feather,"said he.

We talked upon the prospects of the colored people now that they werefree.

"I reckon, sir," said he, "that a good many of 'em will bedisappointed. They don't know what freedom is. But they will find thatthey have got to work, or else they won't get anything to eat. Theyare poor, ignorant creatures; but I reckon, sir, that after a while,when things get settled, they will learn how to take care ofthemselves. But I think they are mighty foolish to clear out and leavetheir old masters, when they can have good situations, and good pay,and little to do. Then, sir, it is kind of ungrateful like, to go awayand leave their old masters when the day of calamity comes. I couldnot do it, sir; besides, I reckon I will be better off to stay herefor the present, sir."

I informed him that I was from Massachusetts.

"I know something about Massachusetts, and I reckon it is a mightyfine State, sir. I have heard you abused, and the people of Bostonalso. Savannah people said hard things about you: that you wereabolitionists, and wanted the negroes to have equal privileges withthe white men. My father, when I was in Norfolk, undertook to get toMassachusetts, but he was hunted down in the swamps and sold South,away down to Alabama, and that is the last I have heard of him. I havealways liked Massachusetts. I reckon you are a liberal people upthere. I hear you have sent a ship-load of provisions to us poorpeople."

(p. 429) I gave him information upon the subject, and spoke of Mr.Everett, who made a speech at the meeting in Faneuil Hall.

"Mr. Everett! I reckon I heard him talk about General Washington oncehere, five or six years ago. He was a mighty fine speaker, sir. Thehouse was crowded."

The sun was setting, and the sexton had other duties. As I left thechurch, he said: "Come round, sir, some afternoon, and I will take youup to the steeple, so that you can get a sight of the city, and may beyou play the organ. I love to hear music, sir."

How strangely this will read fifty years hence! The wordsslave,—master,—sold,—hunted down, will make this presenttime seem an impossibility to those who live after us. This sexton—aslave—heard the minister preach of the loosing of the bonds of theoppressed, and of doing unto others as they would be done by, yet hefound in his own experience such a Gospel a lie. His bonds were notloosened; and the boys of the Sunday school, the petted sons ofSavannah, went out from their aristocratic homes to perpetuate thatlie. At last through war came deliverance; and yet there was so muchgentleness in the heart of this man, that in the day of calamity whichcame to his master, when his sons one by one were killed in theirendeavors to sustain that lie; when his property disappeared like dewbefore the morning sun; when his pride was humiliated; when hisdaughters, who were expectants of immense fortunes, were compelled todo menial service,—this servant, though a free man, could not find itin his heart to leave them, and take the liberty he loved! It may havebeen an exceptional case; but it shows an interesting feature ofSouthern life. The words of this sexton of Savannah will adorn thehistoric page. "I reckon, sir, that it is the Lord's doing, and thatit will be a blessing to us in the end."

Society in the South, and especially in Savannah, had undergone agreat change. The extremes of social life were very wide apart beforethe war; they were no nearer the night before Sherman marched into thecity; but the morning after there was a convulsion, an upheaval, ashaking up and a settling down of all the discordant elements. Thetread of that army of the West, as it moved in solid column through(p. 430) the streets, was like a moral earthquake, overturningaristocratic pride, privilege, and power.

Old houses, with foundations laid deep and strong in the centuries,fortified by wealth, name, and influence, went down beneath the shock.The general disruption of the former relations of master and slave,and forced submission to the Union arms, produced a common level. Areversal of the poles of the earth would hardly have produced agreater physical convulsion than this sudden and unexpected change inthe social condition of the people of the city.

On the night before Sherman entered the place there were citizens whocould enumerate their wealth by millions; at sunrise the next morningthey were worth scarcely a dime. Their property had been in cotton,negroes, houses, land, Confederate bonds and currency, railroad andbank stocks. Government had seized their cotton; the negroes hadpossession of their lands; their slaves had become freemen; theirhouses were occupied by troops; Confederate bonds were waste paper;their railroads were destroyed; their banks insolvent. They had notonly lost wealth, but they had lost their cause. And there were somewho were willing to confess that they had been fighting for a systemof iniquity.

One could not ask for more courteous treatment than I received duringmy stay in Savannah. I am indebted to many ladies and gentlemen ofthat city for kind invitations to pass an evening with them. There wasno concealment of opinion on either side, but with the utmost goodfeeling full expression was given to our differing sentiments.

"We went into the war in good faith; we thought we were right; weconfidently expected to establish our independence; but we arewhipped, and have got to make the best of it," was the frankacknowledgment of several gentlemen.

"I hate you of the North," said a young lady. It came squarely, andthe tone indicated a little irritation.

"I am very sorry for it. I can hardly think that you really hate us.You don't hate me individually?"

"O no. You come here as a gentleman. I should indeed be rude andunladylike to say that I hated you; but I mean the Yankees in general.We never can live together in peace again. For one, I hope to leavethe country."

(p. 431) "If I were to reside here, you of course would treat mecourteously so long as I was a gentleman in my deportment?"

"Certainly; but you are an individual."

"But if two individuals can live peacefully, why not ten,—or ahundred,—a thousand,—all?"

She hesitated a moment; and then, with flashing eyes and flushedcountenance, which added charms to her beauty, said, "Well, it ishard—and you will not think any worse of me for saying it—to haveyour friends killed, your servants all taken away, your landsconfiscated; and then know that you have failed,—that you have beenwhipped. I wish that we had the power to whip you; but we haven't, andmust make the best of it. What we are to do I don't know. We have beenable to have everything that money could buy, and now we haven't adollar. I don't care anything about keeping the negroes in slavery;but there is one feeling which we Southerners have that you cannotenter into. My old mamma who nursed me is just like a mother to me;but there is one thing that I never will submit to,—that the negro isour equal. He belongs to an inferior race."

She laid down the argument in the palm of her hand with a great dealof emphasis.

"Your energy, boldness, and candor are admirable. If under defeat anddisaster you sat down supinely and folded your hands, there would belittle hope of your rising again; but your determination to make thebest of it shows that you will adapt yourself readily to the new orderof things. There never will be complete equality in society. Politicaland social equality are separate and distinct. Rowdies and ragamuffinshave natural rights: they may have a right to vote, they may becitizens; but that does not necessarily entitle them to free entranceinto our homes."

The idea was evidently new to the young lady,—and not only to her,but to all in the room. To them the abolition of slavery was thebreaking down of all social distinctions. So long as the negro wascompelled to enter the parlor as a servant, they could endure hispresence; but freedom implied the possibility, they imagined, of hisentrance as an equal, entitled to a place at their firesides and aseat at their tables. The thought was intolerable.

(p. 432) The poor whites of the South are far below the colored peoplein ability and force of character. They are a class from which thereis little to hope. Nothing rouses their ambition. Like the Indians,they are content with food for to-day; to-morrow will take care ofitself. In the cities they swarm along the sides of buildings on sunnydays, and at night crawl into their miserable cabins with little moreaspiration than dogs that seek their kennels. Undoubtedly there is farless suffering among the poor of the Southern cities than among thepoor of New York, where life is ever a struggle with want. The Southhas a milder climate, nature requires less labor for production, andthe commercial centres are not overcrowded. The poor whites of theSouth maintain no battle with starvation, but surrender resignedly topoverty. They can exist without much labor, and are too indolent tostrive to rise to a higher level of existence. The war has taken theirbest blood. Only shreds and dregs remain.

"What can be done for the poor whites?"

It is a momentous question for the consideration of philanthropistsand statesmen.

They are very ignorant. Their dialect is a mixture of English andAfrican, having words and phrases belonging to neither language;though thepatois is not confined to this class, but is sometimesheard in sumptuously furnished parlors.

"I suppose that you will not be sorry when the war is over," Iremarked to a lady in Savannah.

"No, sir. I reckon the Confederacy is done gone for," was the reply.

It is reported that a North Carolina colonel of cavalry was heard toaddress his command thus,—"'Tention, battalion. Prepare to gen ortoyer critter. Git!"

The order to ride rapidly was, "Dust right smart!"

You hear young ladies say,Paw, for Pa,Maw, for Ma, and then,curiously adding another vowel sound, they saykear for car,thearfor there.

The poor whites of the country are called "poor white trash,""crackers," "clay-eaters," "sand-hillers," and "swamp angels," by theeducated whites. There is no homogeneity of white society. Theplanters, as a rule, have quite as much respect for the negroes asfor the shiftless whites.

(p. 433) Yet these miserable wretches are exceedingly bitter againstthe North: it is the bitterness of ignorance,—brutal, cruel,fiendish, produced by caste, by the spirit of slavery. There is morehope, therefore, of the blacks, in the future, than of this degradedclass. The colored people believe that the people of the North aretheir friends. Freedom, food, schools, all were given by the Yankees;hence gratitude and confidence on the part of the freedmen; hence, onthe part of the poor whites, hatred of the North and cruelty towardthe negro. Idleness, not occupation, has been, and is, their normalcondition. It is ingrained in their nature to despise work. Indolenceis a virtue, laziness no reproach. Thus slavery arrayed societyagainst every law of God, moral and physical.

The poor whites were in bondage as well as the blacks, and to allappearance will remain so, while the natural buoyancy of the negromakes him rise readily to new exigencies; with freedom he is at onceeager to obtain knowledge and acquire landed estates.

The colored people who had taken up lands on the islands under GeneralSherman's order met for consultation in the Slave Market, at thecorner of St. Julian Street and Market Square. I passed up the twoflights of stairs down which thousands of slaves had been dragged,chained in coffle, and entered a large hall. At the farther end was anelevated platform about eight feet square,—the auctioneer's block.The windows were grated with iron. In an anteroom at the right womenhad been stripped and exposed to the gaze of brutal men. A colored manwas praying when I entered, giving thanks to God for the freedom ofhis race, and asking for a blessing on their undertaking. Afterprayers they broke out into singing. Lieutenant Ketchum of GeneralSaxton's staff, who had been placed in charge of the confiscatedlands, was present, to answer their questions.

"I would like to know what title we shall have to our lands, or to theimprovements we shall make?" was the plain question of a tall blackman.

"You will have the faith and honor of the United States," was thereply.

Rev. Mr. French informed them that the government could not give themdeeds of the land, but that General Sherman had(p. 434) issued theorder, and without doubt President Lincoln would see it was carriedout. "Can't you trust the President who gave you your freedom?" heasked.

A stout man, with a yellow complexion, rose in the centre of thehouse: "I have a house here in the city. I can get a good living here,and I don't want to go to the islands unless I can be assured of atitle to the land; and I think that is the feeling of four fifthspresent."

"That's so!" "Yes, brother!" was responded. There was evidently areluctance to becoming pioneers in such an enterprise,—to leaving thecity unless the guaranty were sure.

Another man rose. "My bredren, I want to raise cotton, and I'm gwine."

It was a short but effective speech. With keen, sharp intellect, hehad comprehended the great commercial question of the day. He knewthat it would pay to raise cotton on lands which had been held atfabulous prices when the staple was worth but ten or fifteen cents. Hewas going to improve the opportunity to raise cotton, even if he didnot become a holder of the estate.

"I'm gwine ye, brudder!" "So will I!" and there was a general shakingof hands as if that were sealing a contract. Having determined to go,they joined in singing "The Freedmen's Battle-Hymn," sung as a soloand repeated in chorus:—

Listen|See musical notation

FREEDMEN'S BATTLE-HYMN.

The colored soldiers of Foster's army sang it at the battle of HoneyHill, while preparing to go into the fight. How gloriously it soundednow, sung by five hundred freedmen in the Savannah slave-mart, wheresome of the singers had been sold in days gone by! It was worth a tripfrom Boston to Savannah to hear it.

The next morning, in the same room, I saw a school of one hundredcolored children assembled, taught by colored teachers, who sat on theauctioneer's platform, from which had risen voices of despair insteadof accents of love, brutal cursing instead of Christian teaching. Ilistened to the recitations, and heard their songs of jubilee. Theslave-mart transformed to a school-house! Civilization andChristianity had indeed begun their beneficent work.

Fort Sumter.

(p. 436) CHAPTER XXVI.
SHERMAN IN SOUTH CAROLINA.

General Sherman received, soon after his arrival in Savannah,instructions from General Grant to hasten with his army to JamesRiver. Transports were sent down for the shipment of the troops. Grantdesired to combine the two great armies, throw Sherman upon his ownleft flank, and sever Lee's communications with the South, and alsoprevent his escape. Through all the long months of summer, autumn, andwinter,—from June to February,—Grant had put forth his energies toaccomplish this object, but had not been able to cut the Danvilleroad, Lee's chief line of supply or retreat. The arrival of Shermanupon the sea-coast made the plan feasible.

But that officer thought it better to march northward, driving theenemy before him, and finish up the entire Rebel forces on theAtlantic coast; besides, South Carolina deserved a retribution assevere as that which had been meted out to Georgia. He also believedthat he could thus join Grant quite as soon as by the more circuitousroute by water. Grant assented to the proposition, and having fullconfidence in the ability of his lieutenant, left him to co-operate inthe manner he thought most advisable.

The Rebels expected that Sherman would move upon Charleston, but suchwas not his intention. He determined to make a movement which wouldcompel its evacuation, while at the same time he could drive theforces of the Rebels in the interior of the State northward, and bydestroying all the railroads in his progress, and severing Lee fromthe agricultural regions of the South, so cripple his resources as toparalyze the Rebel army before Richmond, and bring the war to a speedyclose.

He wished to preserve his army entire, and accordingly a division ofthe Nineteenth Corps, which had fought under(p. 437) Emory in theSouthwest and under Grover in the Shenandoah, having no enemy topursue after the annihilation of Early, was sent down to garrisonSavannah, Grover being made commandant of the post.

General Howard, commanding the right wing, took transports with theSeventeenth Corps, Blair's, for Beaufort, whence he pushed into theinterior, striking the Charleston and Savannah Railroad at Pocatoligo,and establishing there a depot of supplies. The Fifteenth Corps,Logan's, followed, except Corse's division, which, being prevented byfreshets from marching direct to Pocatoligo, moved with the left wing,commanded by Williams, joining the Twentieth Corps, and crossing theSavannah marched to Hardeeville, on the Charleston Railroad, andopened communication with Howard.

"Come with me," was the kind invitation of General Williams; "you willsee high old times, I reckon. My soldiers are crazy to get into SouthCarolina." But believing that Sherman's movement would necessitate theevacuation of Charleston, I preferred to enter that city at the hourof her deepest humiliation.

Davis's corps, the Fourteenth, with Geary's division of the Twentieth,crossed at Sister's Ferry, fifty miles above Savannah. This detour wasnecessary on account of the flooding of the country by freshets. Thegunboat Pontiac was sent up to cover the crossing. When Slocum reachedthe river at Sister's Ferry he found it three miles in width, and toodeep to ford, and was obliged to wait till the 7th of February beforehe could cross. This movement deceived Hardee and Beauregard. Thepresence of Howard at Pocatoligo looked like an advance uponCharleston, while Slocum being at Sister's Ferry indicated an attackupon Augusta. The Rebel commanders therefore undertook to hold a linea hundred miles in length. D. H. Hill was hurried to Augusta, Hardeetook position at Branchville, while Beauregard remained at Charleston.This scattering of the Rebel forces made Sherman's task comparativelyeasy, as their combined army would hardly have been a match forSherman in a pitched battle on a fair field. His troops had entireconfidence in themselves and in their commander. Having fought theirway from Chattanooga(p. 438) to Atlanta, having marched to the seaand taken Fort McAllister and Savannah, they believed there was noobstacle which they could not overcome in marching or fighting.

Wilmington had been captured, and Sherman proposed to receive his nextsupplies from the coast.

"I shall reach Goldsboro' about the 15th of March," said Sherman tohis chief quartermasters, who at once made preparations to forwardsupplies from Morehead City in North Carolina.

Sherman held a conference with Admiral Dahlgren on the 22d of January,and with General Foster, commanding the Department of the South. Allthe troops in that quarter were to be employed in a movement againstCharleston. General Foster being in feeble health, Major-GeneralGillmore, who had charge of the department during the summer, and whohad conducted the engineering operations against Wagner and Sumter,again took command.

The march of the right wing, under Howard, commenced on the 1st ofFebruary. Howard found obstructions on all the roads. The negroes fromthe plantations had been impressed into the Rebel service to burnbridges, fell trees, and open sluice-ways; but his Pioneer Corps wasso thoroughly organized that such obstacles did not greatly impede hisprogress.

The Salkehatchie River runs southeast, and reaches the Atlantic midwaybetween Charleston and Savannah. Howard moved up its southern bank,northwest, till he reached River's bridge, thirty-five miles abovePocatoligo. It was a weary march, through swamps, mud, andpine-barrens. River's bridge and Beaufort bridge were held by theRebels, who were strongly posted. Blair, with the Seventeenth Corps,was ordered to carry the first, and Logan, with the Fifteenth, thelatter. Blair detailed Mower's and Corse's divisions for the work. Thetroops saw before them a swamp three miles wide, overflowed, with softmire beneath, filled with gnarled roots of gigantic trees. It wasmidwinter. The air was keen. They knew not the depth of the water. Theforest was gloomy. Above them waved the long gray tresses of moss.There was nothing of pomp and circumstance to inspire them. It was anundertaking full of hazard. They must shiver an hour in the(p. 439)water, breast deep, before they could reach the enemy. But theyhesitated not an instant when the order was given to move. Theystepped into the water jocosely, as if upon a holiday excursion.

A Rebel brigade guarded the farther shore; flanking it, and reachingthe firm land below the bridge, the troops rushed recklessly forward,and quickly drove the enemy from his strong position, losing butseventeen killed and seventy wounded.

Thus by one dash the Rebel line of the Salkehatchie was broken, andHardee retired behind the Edisto to Branchville. The railroad fromCharleston to Augusta was reached the next day, and D. H. Hill atAugusta, with one third of the Rebel force, was severed from Hardeeand Beauregard. For three days Howard's men were engaged in destroyingthe railroad west of the Edisto,—waiting also for the left wing,which had been detained by freshets.

Kilpatrick, meanwhile, had pushed well up towards Augusta, drivingWheeler, burning and destroying property, and threatening Hill. TheRebels everywhere were in a state of consternation. They could notdivine Sherman's intentions. The people of Charleston, who for fouryears had heard the thunder of cannon day and night down the harbor,and had come to the conclusion that it was impossible the city couldever be taken, now thought Sherman was intending to knock foradmission at the back door. The people of Augusta saw that their fairtown was threatened. It had been an important place to theConfederates through the war, contributing largely to help on theRebellion by its manufacturing industry. Citizens fled from Charlestonto Cheraw, Columbia, Winsboro', and other towns up the Santee andCatawba, little thinking that they were jumping from the "frying-paninto the fire."

Branchville is sixty-two miles northwest of Charleston, on the northbank of the Edisto. Hardee expected to see Sherman at that place, andmade elaborate preparations to defend it, as it lay in the path toCharleston. But Sherman, instead of turning southeast, kept his eye onthe north star, and moved on Orangeburg, thirteen miles north ofBranchville, where also the Rebels were prepared to make a stand; butthe Seventeenth Corps made one dash, and the enemy fled from a longbreastwork(p. 440) of cotton-bales. This was on the 12th of February.Meanwhile General Hatch, with a portion of Gillmore's troops, wasthreatening Charleston along the coast.

A division under General Potter, accompanied by a large number ofgunboats, went to Bull's Bay, north of Charleston, as if to approachthe city from that quarter. The monitors were inside the bar. Therewere Union troops on Morris's Island, ready to move, while thebatteries kept up their fire, sending shells into the city. Thus fromevery point except on the northern side Charleston was threatened.

It was not till Howard was well up towards Columbia that Hardee saw hehad been completely flanked, and that Sherman had no intention ofgoing to Charleston. The only force in front of Sherman was Wheeler'sand Wade Hampton's cavalry, with straggling bands of infantry.Hampton's home was Columbia. He was rich, and had a palatialresidence. He was an aristocrat, in principle and action. He wasbitter in his hatred of the Union and the men of the North. He hadfought upon nearly all the battle-fields of Virginia, and doubtless,in common with most of the people of his State, had not thought itpossible the war should reach his own door. But Sherman was there, andbeing powerless to defend the capital of the State, he was reckless todestroy.

Columbia had been a depot of supplies through the war. In view of itsoccupation, Sherman gave written orders to Howard to spare alldwellings, colleges, schools, churches, and private property, but todestroy the arsenals and machinery for the manufacture of warmaterial.

Howard threw a bridge across the river three miles above the city, andStone's brigade of Wood's division of the Fifteenth Corps was sentacross. The Mayor came out in his carriage, and made a formalsurrender to Colonel Stone, who marched up the streets, where hugepiles of cotton were burning. Hampton, in anticipation of the givingup of the city, had caused the cotton to be gathered, public as wellas private, that it might be burned. There were thousands of bales.Negroes were employed to cut the ropes that bound them, and apply thetorch. As Stone marched in the last of Hampton's troops moved out.The wind was high, and flakes(p. 441) of burning cotton were blownabout the streets, setting fire to the buildings. The soldiers usedtheir utmost exertions to extinguish the flames, working under thedirection of their officers. The whole of Wood's division was sent infor the purpose, but very little could be done towards saving thecity. The fire raged through the day and night. Hundreds of familieswere burned out, and reduced from opulence, or at least competency, topenury. It was a terrible scene of suffering and woe,—men, women, andchildren fleeing from the flames, surrounded by a hostile army,composed of men whom they had called vandals, ruffians, the slime ofthe North, the pests of society, and whom they had looked upon withhaughty contempt, as belonging to an inferior race. Indescribabletheir anguish; and yet no violence was committed, no insultinglanguage or action given by those soldiers. Sherman, Howard, Logan,Hazen, Woods,—nearly all of Sherman's officers,—did what they couldto stay the flames and alleviate the distress. They experienced nopleasure in beholding the agony of the people of Columbia.

General Sherman thus vindicates himself in his official report, andcharges the atrocity upon Wade Hampton:—

"I disclaim on the part of my army any agency in this fire, but, on the contrary, claim that we saved what of Columbia remains unconsumed. And without hesitation I charge General Wade Hampton with having burned his own city of Columbia,—not with a malicious intent, or as the manifestation of a silly 'Roman stoicism,' but from folly and want of sense, in filling it with lint, cotton, and tinder. Our officers and men on duty worked well to extinguish the flames; but others not on duty, including the officers who had long been imprisoned there, rescued by us, may have assisted in spreading the fire after it had once begun, and may have indulged in unconcealed joy to see the ruin of the capital of South Carolina."[78]

Thus Columbia, the beautiful capital of a once haughty State, became ablackened waste. The convention which passed the ordinance ofSecession, when called together on the 17th of December, 1860, met inColumbia, but after organizing adjourned to Charleston, as the citywas infected with small-pox.(p. 442) But it was the more poisonousvirus of Secession which finally laid their proud city low.

The people of South Carolina are bitter in their hatred of GeneralSherman. They charge all the devastation committed during his marchfrom Atlanta to Goldsboro' upon him. In their estimation he is "afiend," and his conduct not merely "inhuman," but "devilish." Yet heonly adopted the policy which the Rebel leaders urged upon theiradherents, and which was vehemently advocated by the Southern press.Rebel, not loyal torches, fired Charleston, Orangeburg, and Columbia.

It is claimed that Sherman did not regard private property, butdestroyed it indiscriminately with that belonging to the Confederategovernment. Was there any respect shown by the Rebel authorities?Cotton, resin, turpentine, stores owned by private individuals, wereremorselessly given to the flames by the Rebels themselves, and theiracts were applauded by the people of the South as evincing heroicself-sacrifice.

Great stress is laid upon the suffering occasioned by the pillagingand burning by Sherman's troops; but in Pennsylvania yet remain theruins of Chambersburg as evidence of the tender mercy of the Rebels,who not only destroyed public property, but gave dwelling-houses andstores to the torch.

What act so malignant, bloody, ghastly, and fiendish as the sacking,burning, and massacre at Lawrence! What deed so damning since thebarbarities of Scio or Wyoming! What woe so deep!—men, children,murdered, butchered, scalped, the bodies of the dead tossed into theflames! No relenting on the part of the Rebels, but savage, infuriatejoy at the sight of the warm heart's blood of their victims! Woman'sprayers and tears availed not to stay their murderous hands or movetheir brutal hearts.

The responsibility cannot be evaded by saying that Quantrel was only aguerilla. If not holding a commission from the Rebel government, hewas fighting for the Confederacy, and was ranked with Morgan andMosby. He was an ally of Jeff Davis and General Lee. When were hisacts disavowed by the Rebel government? What restraint was ever laidupon him? He passed from the scene of massacre, lighted by the flamesof(p. 443) the burning town, safely into the Rebel lines, whereinstead of outlawry he found protection and favor. On what page ofConfederate history shall we read the remonstrance of Lee, Davis,Stephens, Toombs, or Breckenridge? Where is the protest of the"chivalrous" gentlemen of the South? What action was taken by theRebel Congress?

Vain the search for disavowal of or protest against the act. Thehistorian of another generation will be able to pass right judgmentupon all that has transpired during these dark years of anarchy andrevolution, sorrow, tears, and anguish. The verdict of posterity willbe just, and will endure through the ages.

Mississippi river hospital steamer.

(p. 444) CHAPTER XXVII.
SOUTH CAROLINA BEFORE THE WAR.

To fully comprehend the fitting punishment of South Carolina we mustkeep in remembrance her position before the war. We must behold her asshe appeared in 1860,—the leader and chief conspirator against theRepublic.

She had always taken a prominent part in the political affairs of thenation. Although a State, she was hardly a republican commonwealth,and very far from being a democracy. The State was ruled by a clique,composed of wealthy men, of ancient name, who secured privileges andprerogatives for themselves at the expense of the people, who had butlittle voice in electing their lawgivers.

The basis of representation in the Legislature was exceedinglycomplex. In the House of Representatives it was a mixture of property,population, white inhabitants, taxation, and slaves. In the Senate itconsisted of geographical extent, white and slave population,taxation, and property. The Senate was constituted after the "Parishsystem," which gave the whole control of political affairs in theState into the hands of a few wealthy men from the sea-coast.

Battle of Fort Sumter.

There are two distinct classes of people in South Carolina,—thelowlanders and the uplanders. The settlers of the lowlands wereemigrants from England and France, gentlemen with aristocratic ideas.The settlers of the uplands, in the western counties, were pioneersfrom Virginia and North Carolina,—small farmers, cultivating theirown lands. During the Revolutionary war the uplanders were Whigs, thelowlanders Tories. The lowlanders had wealth, the uplanders were poor.When the Constitution was formed, organizing a State government, thelowlanders took care of their own interests. The lowlands in Colonialtimes were divided into parishes, and with the forming of theConstitution each parish was to have a(p. 445) Senator. The uplands,not being parishes, were districts of much larger territorial area,hence political power fell into the hands of a few individuals alongthe coast. As white population increased in the districts, anddecreased or remained stationary in the parishes, the up-country mentried to emancipate themselves from political serfdom, but there wasno remedy except by an amendment to the Constitution, through aConvention called by the Legislature; and as the lowlanders hadcontrol of that body, there was no redress. The State, therefore,became an engine of political power, managed and worked by a few menfrom Charleston, Beaufort, St. Helena, Edisto, Colleton, and otherparishes along the sea-coast.

Nature gave South Carolina sunny skies and a genial clime. The seacontributed an atmosphere which gained for Edisto and St. Helenaislands the monopoly in the world's markets for cotton of finestfibre. Wealth increased with the gathering in of each new crop, andwith wealth came additional power. Superiority of political privilegemade the few impatient of restraint and ambitious not only to controlState, but national affairs. South Carolina attempted defiance ofnational law in 1832, and was defeated.

The parishes governed the State solely in the interests of slavery. Itgave them power, to perpetuate which they made slavery aggressive.Here is exposed the root from which Secession sprung. Free labor inthe North was a plant of vigorous growth. Slavery was slow. It leftworn-out lands in its track. Hard work, brutality, and sin sent itsvictims to an early grave. Freedom was gaining ground. Slavery must becarried into the Territories and secure a foothold in advance of freelabor. So the struggle began, and through pride, passion, andmalignant hatred of the North Secession was at last accomplished.

Upon the assembling of the Legislature for the choice of Presidentialelectors, the President of the Senate, W. D. Porter, of Charleston,said to his fellow-legislators:—

"All that is dear and precious to this people,—life, fortune, name, and history,—all is committed to our keeping for weal or for woe, for honor or for shame. Let us do our part, so that those who come after us shall acknowledge that we were not unworthy of the great trusts(p. 446) devolved upon us, and not unequal to the great exigencies by which we were tried.... No human power can withstand or break down a united people, standing upon their own soil and defending their own firesides."[79]

They made their election. They thought it to be weal, but under God'sprovidence it proved to be woe.

A Senator said:—

"We have two ways before us,—in one, whether we will or not, we must tread; for, in the event of this issue, there would be no repose. In both lie dangers, difficulties, and troubles, which no human foresight can foreshadow or perceive; but they are not equal in magnitude. One is beset with humiliation, dishonor,emeutes, rebellion,—with submission in the beginning to all, and at all times, and confiscation and slavery in the end. The other, it is true, has its difficulties and trials, but no disgrace. Hope, duty, and honor shine along the path. Hope beacons you to the end.... For himself he would unfurl the Palmetto flag, fling it to the breeze, and with the spirit of a brave man determine to live and die as became our glorious ancestors, and ring the clarion notes of defiance in the face of an insolent foe."[80]

When assembled in Hibernia Hall, in Charleston, since called SecessionHall, the delegates gave free utterance to their sentiments.

Said Mr. Parker:—

"It is no spasmodic effort that has come suddenly upon us; it has beengradually culminating for a long period of thirty years. At last ithas come to that point where one may say the matter is entirelyright."

"I have been engaged in this movement ever since I entered politicallife," said Lawrence M. Keitt.

"It is not anything produced by Mr. Lincoln's election or by thenon-execution of the Fugitive Slave Law. It has been a matter whichhas been gathering head for thirty years," said R. Barnwell Rhett.

It was the fire of 1832 flaming anew. No rights had been invaded. ThatSecession was inaugurated without cause must ever be the verdict ofhistory. And history will forever hold John C. Calhoun, R. BarnwellRhett, Right Rev. Bishop Elliott,(p. 447) Rev. Dr. Thornwell, andother statesmen, editors, ministers,—members of the slaveholdingforum, bar, and pulpit,—responsible for all the suffering, bloodshed,and desolation which have come to the country.

Proud in spirit was South Carolina just then. The cotton crop wasluxuriant. Planters were plethoric with money. The internalslave-trade established its marts of human flesh all through theSouth. Virginia became slave-breeding, and South Carolinaslave-consuming. In former years slavery was deemed an evil, a curse;but the call for cotton, its rise in market value, with increasedprofit of culture and a consequent demand for labor, transformed itinto a blessing, to be perpetuated for the best good of the humanrace.

It was found to be in perfect accordance with the teachings of theBible. The system itself was right; the abuse of the good was onlyevil. Rev. Dr. Thornwell, Professor of Theology in the PresbyterianSeminary at Columbia, came boldly forward to advocate slavery as aDivine institution, ordained of God for the welfare of the human race.He preached thus:—

"Our slaves are our solemn trust, and while we have a right to use and direct their labors, we are bound to feed, clothe, and protect them, to give them the comforts of this life, and to introduce them to the hope of a blessed immortality. They are moral beings, and it will be found that in the culture of their moral nature we reap the largest reward from their service.The relation itself is moral, and in the tender affections and endearing sympathies it evokes it gives scope for the most attractive graces of human character. Strange as it may sound to those who are not familiar with the system, slavery is a school ofvirtue, and no class of men have furnished sublimer instances of heroic devotion than slaves in their loyalty and love to their masters. We have seen them rejoice at the cradle of the infant, and weep at the bier of the dead; and there are few among us who have not drawn their nourishment from their generous breasts."[81]

Such was the teaching from those who called themselves appointed ofGod to preach the Gospel of purity and peace. Church and State, moralsand religion, everything that could give strength and respectabilityto their cause, were brought in(p. 448) to aid the work of theconspirators. So thorough were the teachings, that South Carolinabecame almost a unit on the question of Secession.

The people of the South charge the Union army with desecrating theirchurch edifices. Is it a wonder that soldiers, reasoning from cause toeffect, concluded that the religion which was foremost inprecipitating a Rebellion which sustained such an inhuman system wasnot worth serious consideration? Is it a wonder that, afterexperiencing the horrors of Rebel prisons, they lost reverence for areligion which could uphold a government guilty of such fiendishcruelties?

Slavery was the corner-stone and foundation of the Confederacy. Neverwas the trade in slaves between States so thriving as during thewinter of 1860. And the leaders of the Rebellion were looking forwardto the time when the commerce with Africa would be reopened. Mr. Lamarof Savannah, who during the Rebellion was agent of the Confederacy inLondon for the purchase of army supplies, imported in the barkWanderer a cargo of native Africans, some of whom were sold inCharleston. There was a large party in the Confederate Congress whichadvocated the resumption of the foreign trade, the abolition of whichin 1808 was set down as one of the grievances of the South.

It is the province of history to make a record of the bad as well asthe good, shameful and humiliating though it may be. Sin andwickedness are horrible facts. To view them as such, to contemplatethem in contrast with holiness and righteousness, and draw usefullessons from such contemplation, is far better than to say that theyhave no place in history. Posterity will wonder that a Church whichcalled itself Christian ever gave its support and advocacy to aninstitution which daily brought its victims, like cattle, to theauction-block, which made no distinction of age, which was remorselessas death, and which from the cradle to the grave held its victim aswith a tiger's gripe.

On the opposite page is presented a sample of an auctioneer'shandbill, which I found upon the floor of the slave-mart, with theprices paid by the buyers marked in pencil against the names of the"chattels," and now appearing in parentheses.

(p. 450) The CharlestonMercury was the organ of the Secessionistsfrom the start. It not only advocated Secession as a politicalprinciple, but filled its columns with articles holding up to ridiculeand contempt the people of the North. The spirit of hate seemed toseize the whole community, in which women even exceeded theirhusbands. Thus wrote a Southern lady:—

"I would rather die than hold a position of inferiority and vassalageto the North, and the dominant feeling of my heart is to leave a Statewhere men are too cowardly to protect their women and too mercenary torisk their money."[82]

"The question has thrust itself into our domestic fireside, and youfind all classes,—men, women, and children,—asking what they must doto be saved," said W. F. Cullock, Collector of Charleston, in a speechat the Pulaski House, Savannah, on the opening of the Charleston andSavannah Railroad.

"Fight! Secede!" was the response from the drunken crowd.

The South Carolina Muse tuned her lyre and sang,—

"We'll unfurl the Lone-Star banner,
And we'll keep it waving high;
For Secession we are pledged,
For Secession we will die."

The city of Charleston was foremost for Secession. When the news wasreceived that Mr. Lincoln was elected President, a red flag, with thepalmetto-tree and a lone star wrought upon it, was raised. Says theMercury: "A shout and twice three cheers greeted its appearance. TheAssociation of 1860 assembled. The feeling was for prompt action."

The Legislature was in session at Columbia. On the 11th of the month abill was passed calling a State convention.

"Gentlemen, hats off!" said theMercury. "Thenhip-hip-hip-hurrah!—andhip-hip-hip-hurrah—hurrah—hurrah—hurrah—for the homes welove!"[83]

Then more soberly the editor added:—

"The news of the passage of the convention resolutions by an almost unanimous vote, at Columbia, was received in this city on Saturday(p. 451) night with demonstrations which have, perhaps, never been equalled in the political history of the country. Our whole community seemed to breathe freer and deeper, and upon every brow sat confidence and hope. It was as though the glorious sun had suddenly dispersed cloud and mist and vapor, and sent its illuminating rays to every heart and home. Men looked each other in the face as men should do who feel that under God their destinies are in their own hands."

Thus a "daughter of South Carolina" inflamed her sisters:—

"Listen, daughters of South Carolina, to the voice of a faithful sister. Should our State back out now she would be disgraced forever.... Shrink now, and we are crushed forever. Then there will be no end of the trouble you fear. Abolition emissaries will be at work all over the South, inciting the negroes in every direction. Trials must come, but let them come in the right way, and all will be well. Secede, put ourselves in a state of defence; be ready for any emergency. Should the government coerce, our sister States will come to the rescue. Let it be so. Better perish beneath the shock than to live degraded.... O women of South Carolina! Mothers, sisters, wives! do not wear the white feather now, unless, like that gallant king of old, it waves on our men to the war."[84]

Said another:—

"Let us women of Carolina prove that the same noble spirit which visited the mothers and maidens of '76 is alive, and glowing in the spirits of their descendants. I am myself a widowed mother, but I have said to my three sons, that if any one of them shall be craven enough to desert the State now, to temporize in her councils, or be backward if her honor calls them to the field, let him never look upon my face again."[85]

What had transpired to produce this white heat of passion? Simply thata party was coming into power opposed to the extension of slavery overfree territory. True this party had also disavowed any intention ofinterference with slavery in the States; but restriction was loss ofpower,—paralysis and death at last. The grievance of South Carolinaarose wholly from slavery. She claimed the right to traffic in humanbeings. She believed it was a natural right, authorized by the(p. 452) Creator of the universe, having the sanction and solemnity ofthe patriarchs, prophets, apostles, and Christ himself. It was anatural, moral, and scriptural right for a master to rob his brotherin the Lord of his earnings during the week, commune with him onSunday, whip him on Monday, and sell him on Tuesday. The institutionbeing missionary in its nature, and designed to carry the Gospel toAfrica, he had a right to separate husbands and wives, parents andchildren, break the marriage relation, and establish new alliances atwill. No doubt they were sincere in their belief that the system wasnot only good in itself, but that it was a beneficent arrangement forthe well-being of the human race. Certainly it was beneficial to themaster; why should it not be to the slave? Men can be as sincerelyzealous for Wrong as for Right. Eighteen hundred years ago a manzealous for the truth filled the prisons of Syria with Christians, andthought he was doing righteously in the sight of God; and human natureis the same now as then. Men and women who advocated the righteousnessof slavery were scrupulous to a penny in their dealings with oneanother, and with colored people who were free,—but the loss offreedom gave the right to commit robbery! Strange, also, the confusionand delusion of moral ideas. Society prided itself on its virtue. Menand women of Caucasian blood departing from morality found the door ofsociety shut against them; but slavery being patriarchal it was not acrime, not even an offence against morality, for a planter to choose aHagar from his slaves. Society placed no bar in his way, the Church noban upon his action. Hagar could be taken into the master's household,appear in silks and satins, with Ishmael for the pet of the family, orboth could be knocked off to the highest bidder in the mart, separatedand sent one to the rice-swamps of Georgia and the other to thecane-brakes of Louisiana, Hagar weeping and mourning for her child,and the planter, with the price of blood in his pocket, be received inany parlor in Charleston, or made Governor of the State! There werepatriarchs in the convention which carried South Carolina out of theUnion, who were urged on to treason by the women of the South. Ishmaelwould not rise in insurrection, even if his brother Isaac and fatherAbraham went to war.

(p. 453) Said another "daughter of South Carolina":—

"Arming the State will keep the negroes in check. They are arrant cowards, those dear dark friends of ours.[?] Some of you can remember how in '22 they would shrink away at the gleam of their master's sword as he armed for the nightly patrol, and the creaking of the horseman's saddles as they paraded the streets sent them hiding in every hole and corner."[86]

Isaac was eager for the fray; he burned to fight the Yankees. Hencethe consummation of the treason.

Cooper shop volunteer refreshment saloon.

(p. 454) CHAPTER XXVIII.
SUMTER.

Fort Sumter was evacuated by the Rebels and occupied by the Uniontroops on the 18th of February, 1865; but before entering upon theevents of that ever-memorable morning it will give breadth and colorto the picture to glance at the scenes witnessed there at thebeginning and during the Rebellion.

On the 17th of December, 1860, Governor Pickens sent a strictlyconfidential letter to President Buchanan.

"To spare the effusion of blood," said he, "which no human power may be able to prevent, I earnestly beg your immediate consideration of all the points I call your attention to.... I would most respectfully, and from a sincere devotion to the public peace, request that you will allow me to send a small force, not exceeding twenty-five men and an officer, to take possession of Fort Sumter immediately, in order to give a feeling of safety to the community. There are no United States troops in that fort whatever, or perhaps only four or five at present, besides some additional workmen or laborers lately employed to put the guns in order.... If Fort Sumter could be given to me as Governor, I think the public mind would be quieted, under a feeling of safety."

The State seceded on the 20th. Major Anderson with a handful of menwas at Fort Moultrie. "The garrison will not be strengthened. Thepeople will obey the call for war, and take the forts," said theCharlestonMercury of the 22d.

Five days later, on the 27th, the people of Charleston looked seawardand saw Moultrie in flames, and the stars and stripes waving overSumter. They were indignant. They considered it a breach of faith.

"Anderson has opened civil war," said theCourier.[87]

(p. 455) "His act must be repudiated by the government," said theMercury.[88]

"Unless you order Anderson back, I cannot, under my convictions ofpatriotism and honor, continue to hold office," said the Secretary ofWar, John B. Floyd, of Virginia.[89]

Charleston was intensely excited.

"Assemble the Light Infantry and the Meagher Guards at the Citadel.Arm them and take possession of Castle Pinckney. Proceed immediatelyto Fort Moultrie; send troops to Morris Island," were the orders ofGovernor Pickens to Colonel Pettigrew.

"Our line of operations embraces four points: Fort Moultrie, CastlePinckney, Fort Johnson, and Morris Island. You are indebted to theforbearance of the enemy for the liberty of transporting thereinforcements and supplies, which you ordered at midnight, and whichare to be sent to your battery now in course of erection on MorrisIsland. A single gun from Fort Sumter would sink your transports anddestroy your troops and supplies," reported General Simmons to theGovernor on the 1st of January.

It was the language of war. The United States was an enemy. The gunsof Moultrie were already trained on Sumter. The battery on MorrisIsland was for the destruction of that fort. South Carolina had begunthe war in intention and in fact. The erection of the battery was war.

On the 9th of January the same battery opened fire on the Star of theWest, steaming into the harbor, bearing the United States flag.

"You are asked to surrender the fort to the constituted authorities ofSouth Carolina," was the demand of Governor Pickens on the 11th.

"I cannot comply with your request," was the response from Anderson.

Then came the negotiations between Charleston and Washington,—thedemands upon Buchanan, the shuffling and indecision of the two-faced,unprincipled politician, who had written himself down as an "OldPublic Functionary." Major(p. 456) Anderson was watched day andnight, cut off from intercourse with the shore, deprived of freshprovisions, treated as an enemy, and compelled to see the preparationson Morris Island and on the floating battery for the reduction of thefort. Thus February and March passed away. His provisions were nearlygone. Troops were pouring into Charleston from all parts of the Stateand from other States. Savannah sent a company early in December. Theywere under the command of General Beauregard,—a small, brown, thin,wiry man, forty years old, born upon the banks of the Mississippi, inLouisiana, yet more of a Frenchman than an American.

Mr. Lincoln could not consent that Major Anderson should starve. Thepeople of the North would not permit it. Its sentiment was forsustaining an officer who had been true to his oath, amid a generalbreaking down of loyalty.

Sunday dawned, the 7th of April, and Major Anderson, looking out fromhis prison, saw the Rebels hard at work to complete the batteries onMorris Island.

"An attempt will be made to supply Fort Sumter with provisions only,"was the official notice from President Lincoln to Pickens on the 8th.

"Demand the surrender of the fort; if refused, reduce it," was theorder from Montgomery.

"Surrender," was the message of Beauregard to Anderson. "I cannot; butI shall soon be starved out unless relieved," was the courteous reply.

"When will you evacuate?"

"At noon on the 15th, if I receive no supplies," wrote Anderson on the11th.

"I shall open fire in one hour," was the last message of Beauregard,at twenty minutes past three on the morning of the 12th.

Then came the roar of the first gun, fired by old Mr. Ruffin,gray-haired, nearly fourscore. Not the young bloods of the Southalone, but men and women of all ages and classes were crazy for thecontest.

Shells burst in the fort, plunging through the wooden barracks andofficers' quarters. Solid shot from Morris Island were hurledpoint-blank against the walls. All day the batteries flamed, andSumter leisurely replied.

Defence of Fort Sumter.

(p. 457) When darkness came on Sumter closed its port-holes andrested, but the Rebels, like spirits of evil, were at work through thenight.

The second day dawned, and all the cannon were roaring again. Thebarracks were on fire, the smoke curling into the casemates, the hotstifling air reaching the gunners, who, wrapping themselves in wetcloths, and covering their faces, crept along the passages, rollingcasks of powder into the sea. What delight on shore to see the flamesmount above the walls! With what energy Moultrie, Pinckney, and MorrisIsland and the floating battery redoubled their fire. All but three ofAnderson's cartridges were gone. The flagstaff was shot away. "Theflag is down!" is the cry within the fort. Up into the storm, wherethe shot and shell are falling, walks Lieutenant Hall, planting theflag upon the parapet, where it waves till Wigfall appears at aport-hole. Then the parley,—the surrender,—and Charleston wasexcited as never before or since. Men and women on the house-tops, andgathered in church-steeples; business at a stand still, champagneflowing like water, costliest wines quaffed at the expense ofmerchants of New York; bells ringing, guns firing, ladies waving theirhandkerchiefs,—the city all aglow with bonfires in the evening;crowds surging through the streets, or drinking whiskey in thebar-rooms: Beauregard the Napoleon of the new era. Governor Pickensaddressed the mob from the balcony of the Charleston Hotel:—

"It is a glorious and exultant occasion. Fellow-citizens, I clearly saw that the day was coming when we would triumph beyond the power of man to put us down. Thank God the day has come,—thank God the war is open, and we will conquer or perish! We have defeated their twenty millions, and we have made the proud flag of the stars and stripes, that never was lowered before to any nation on this earth,—we have lowered it in humility before the glorious little State of South Carolina!"[90]

Intoxicated with wine and whiskey, delirious with success, insane withSecession, the jubilant crowd cheer and drink, and shout again,bidding defiance to the government, and cursing the Yankees.

(p. 458) Four years pass, and Sumter is repossessed by the troops ofthe Union. How cheering the sight to behold once more the crimsonfolds and fadeless stars of our country's flag waving in the sunlightover the crumbled walls!

Early in the morning we entered the harbor,—General Gillmore andstaff, General Webster, chief of General Sherman's staff, with severalgentlemen and ladies from Port Royal. The blockading fleet and themonitors were steaming in, their long watch through the swelteringdays of summer and the stormy nights of winter at an end. They werefeeling their way up the channel searching for torpedoes.

The steamer Deer, built on the Clyde, a few hours from Nassau, with anassorted cargo,—a low, rakish, fast-running craft, with steamescaping from her pipes,—was lying under the guns of a monitor. Shehad worked her way in during the night. The crestfallen captain waschewing the cud of disappointment on the quarter-deck, lookinggloomily seaward the while, and doubtless wishing himself in theharbor of Nassau. Two nights before the Syren had passed in. The wreckof a third blockade-runner was lying on the sands of Sullivan'sIsland, near Moultrie, which months before had been run ashore by thefleet. The tide was surging through the cabin windows. Barnacles hadfastened upon the hull, and long tresses of green, dank seaweed hungtrailing from the iron paddle-wheels. It was a satisfaction to knowthat the time was at hand when Englishmen at Nassau would have to shutup shop.

We glided along the shore of Morris Island, white with tents. Whatheroic valor on those sands,—the assault upon Wagner, the slow,persistent excavation of the trenches, the unremitting vigilance andenergy, the endurance which had forced the evacuation of MorrisIsland,—the turning of the guns of Wagner upon Sumter, the plantingof the "Swamp-Angel" battery,—the first shell sent streaming into thecity, startling the inhabitants, and awaking the unpleasant convictionthat the Yankees were at their doors! So memory ran over the historicevents, as we swept up the channel.

The steamer could not approach near the landing, and we were taken tothe fort in small boats. We reached the interior through a low,narrow passage.

(p. 459) The fort bore little resemblance to its former appearance,externally or internally. None of the original face of the wall was tobe seen, except on the side towards Charleston and a portion of thatfacing Moultrie. From the harbor and from Wagner it appeared only atumulus,—thedébris of an old ruin. All the casemates, arches,pillars, and parapets were torn up and utterly demolished. The greatguns which two years before kept the monitors at bay, which flamed andthundered awhile upon Wagner, were dismounted, broken, and partiallyburied beneath the mountain of brick, dust, concrete, sand, andmortar. After Dupont's attack, in April, 1863, a reinforcement ofpalmetto-logs was made on the harbor side, and against half of thewall facing Moultrie, and the lower casemates were filled withsand-bags; but when General Gillmore obtained possession of Wagner,his fire began to crumble the parapet. The Rebels endeavored tomaintain its original height by gabions filled with sand, but thiscompelled a widening of the base inside by sand-bags, thousands ofwhich were brought to the fort at night. Day after day, week afterweek, the pounding from Wagner was maintained so effectually that itwas impossible to keep a gun in position on the side of Sumterfronting it, and the only guns remaining mounted were five or six onthe side towards Moultrie, in the middle tier of casemates. Fivehowitzers were kept on the walls to repel an attack by small boats,the garrison keeping under cover, or seeking shelter whenever thelookout cried, "A shot!"

Cheveaux-de-frise of pointed sticks protected the fort from ascaling party. At the base outside was a barrier of interlaced wire,supported by iron posts. There was also a submerged network of wireand chains, kept in place by floating buoys.

I had the curiosity to make an inspection of the wall nearestMoultrie, to see what had been the effect of the fire of the ironcladsin Dupont's attack. With my glass at that time I could see that thewall was badly honeycombed; a close inspection now proved that thefire was very damaging. There were seams in the masonry, and greatgashes where the solid bolts crumbled the bricks to dust. It wasevident that if the fire had been continued any considerable length oftime the wall would have fallen. Its effect suggested the necessity offilling up the lower casemates.

(p. 460) An hour was passed in the fort, the band playing nationalairs, and the party inspecting the ruins and gathering relics.

Captain James of the Massachusetts Fifty-Fourth, aide to GeneralGillmore, was wounded in the assault on Wagner. He gazed at the ruinswith a satisfaction not unmixed with melancholy, for beneath the sandsof Morris Island was lying his beloved commander, Colonel Shaw.

The Rebels had refused to give up his body. "Let him lie buriedbeneath his niggers," was their answer to the request. And there helies beside the brave men who followed him to death and glory, havingwon an immortal name no less as the commander of the first negroregiment sent to the war than by his gentle bearing as a man andbravery as a soldier. His acceptance of the command of the despisedmen who gladly enlisted when called to the field required at the timea devotion to principle and a decision of character, to face the gibesand sneers flung at him by negro-haters in his rear, greater than thecourage to meet the enemy at the front. But he nobly led the way, andsilenced every carping tongue.

For four long years the cannon of Sumter had hurled defiance at therights of man; but the contest now was ended. Eternal principles hadprevailed against every effort of Rebel hate to crush them. The strongearthworks on Sullivan's and Johnson's islands, the batteries in theharbor, Castle Pinckney and Fort Ripley, and those in the city erectedby slaves, were useless forever, except as monuments of folly andwickedness. As I stood there upon the ruins of Sumter, looking downinto the crater, the past like a panorama was unrolled, exhibiting themighty events which will forever make it memorable. The silent landingof Major Anderson at the postern gate, the midnight prayer and solemnconsecration of the little band to defend the flag till the last, thelong weeks of preparation by the Rebels, the Star of the West turningher bow seaward, the 12th of April, the barracks on fire, the suppliesexhausted, the hopelessness of success, the surrender, and all thathad followed, were vivid memories of the moment.

How inspiring to hear the music of the band, to behold the numerousvessels of the fleet decorated from bowsprit to yardarm and topmastwith flags and streamers, to recall the heroic(p. 461) sacrifices ofthose who had fought through the weary years, to know that Sumter,Moultrie, the city, and the State were redeemed from the worst systemof vassalage, that our country was still a nation, renewed andregenerated by its baptism of fire and blood, that truth and rightwere vindicated before the world; and to look down the coming years,and know that Freedom was secured to all beneath the folds of the flagthat had withstood the intrigues of cabals and the shock of battle,and that Christianity and civilization, twin agents of human progress,had received an impetus that would forever keep us in the van ofnations.

For our Flag.

Looking at that flag, involuntarily I repeated the words of the songwhich I heard when the shadows of night fell upon the gory field ofAntietam, sung by our wounded in one of the hospitals:—

"Our flag is there! our flag is there!
We hail it with three loud huzzas!
Our flag is there! our flag is there!
Behold the glorious stripes and stars!
Stout hearts have fought for that bright flag,
Strong hands sustained it masthead high,
And O, to see how proud it waves,
Brings tears of joy to every eye!"

(p. 462) CHAPTER XXIX.
CHARLESTON.

A city of ruins,—silent, mournful, in deepest humiliation. It wasearly morning when we reached the wharf, piled with merchandise, notbusy with commercial activity as in other days, but deserted, itstimbers rotting, its planks decayed, its sheds tumbling in and reelingearthward. The slips, once crowded with steam and sailing vessels,were now vacant, except that an old sloop with a worm-eaten gunwale,tattered sails, and rigging hanging in shreds, alone remained.

A few fishermen's dories only were rocking on the waves, tethered tothe wharves by rotten ropes, where the great cotton Argosies in formeryears had shipped or landed their cargoes.

Before the sailors had time to make fast the steamer, myself andfriend[91] were up the pier. The band was playing "Hail, Columbia,"and the strains floated through the desolate city, awakening wildenthusiasm in the hearts of the colored people, who came rushing downthe grass-grown streets to welcome us.

When near the upper end of the pier we encountered an old man bendingbeneath the weight of seventy years,—such years as slavery alone canpile upon the soul. He bowed very low.

"Are you not afraid of us Yankees?"

"No, massa, God bless you. I have prayed many a night for you to come,and now you are here. Bless the Lord! Bless the Lord!"

He kneeled, clasped my hand, and with streaming eyes poured out histhanks to God.

Let us, before entering upon a narrative of military incidents, lookat Charleston as she was at the beginning of the(p. 463) Rebellion,when the great cotton mart of the Atlantic coast, with lines ofsteamships to New York and Boston. Then her wharves not only werepiled with bales of cotton and tierces of rice, or with goods from thewarehouses and manufactories of New England and Great Britain, but,next to New Orleans, she was the most populous city of the South, and,in proportion to the number of inhabitants, the wealthiest. Her banksand insurance offices were as stable as those of Wall Street. Sheaspired to be the commercial emporium of the South. The newspapers ofCharleston taught the people to believe that Secession andnon-intercourse with the North would make the city the rival of NewYork. She first adopted the vagaries of her own son, Calhoun, on therights of States. She proclaimed cotton king, not of America, but ofthe world, and in her pride believed that all nations could be broughtto do her homage. She was rich and aristocratic, and looked upon thepeople of the North with contempt.

"The Cavaliers, Jacobites, and Huguenots," wrote De Bow, "who settledthe South, naturally hate, contemn, and despise the Puritans, whosettled the North. The former are master races; the latter a slaverace, descendants of the Anglo-Saxon serfs."

Through ignorance and vanity such assertions were accepted as truths.Boys and girls of the common schools of the North could have shownthat, in the contests between the Cavaliers and Puritans, theCavaliers were defeated; that the Jacobites went down before the partywhich placed William of Orange on the throne.

Charleston called the people of South Carolina into council. TheMercury—that able but wicked advocate of Secession—threw out fromits windows this motto: "One voice and millions of strong arms touphold the honor of South Carolina!" Not the honor of the nation or ofthe people, but of South Carolina,—the Mephistopheles of theConfederacy, the seducer of States. With honeyed words, and well-timedflattery she detached State after State from the Union.

"Whilst constituting a portion of the United States," said SouthCarolina, in her address to the slaveholding States, "it has beenyour statesmanship which has guided it in its mighty(p. 464)strides to power and expansion. In the field and in the cabinetyouhave led the way to renown and grandeur."

The ministers of her churches were foremost in abetting the Rebellion.Church and State, merchant and planter, all from high to low of thewhite population, brought themselves to believe that their influencewas world-wide, through King Cotton and his prime minister, AfricanSlavery. Hence the arrogance, fierce intolerance, and mad hate whichhad their only prototypes in the Rebellion of the Devil and his angelsagainst Beneficent Goodness.

The siege of Charleston was commenced on the 21st of August, 1863, bythe opening of the "Swamp-Angel" battery. On the 7th of September FortWagner was taken, and other guns were trained upon the city,compelling the evacuation of the lower half. For fourteen months ithad been continued; not a furious bombardment, but a slow, steady firefrom day to day. About thirteen thousand shells had been thrown intothe town,—nearly a thousand a month.

They were fired at a great elevation, and were plungingshots,—striking houses on the roof and passing down from attic tobasement, exploding in the chambers, cellars, or in the walls. Theeffect was a complete riddling of the houses. Brick walls were blowninto millions of fragments, roofs were torn to pieces; rafters, beams,braces, scantlings, were splintered into jack-straws. Churches,hotels, stores, dwellings, public buildings, and stables, all wereshattered. There were great holes in the ground, where cart-loads ofearth had been excavated in a twinkling.

In 1860 the population of the city was 48,509,—26,969 whites, 17,655slaves, and 3,885 free colored. The first flight from the city was inDecember, 1861, when Port Royal fell into the hands of Dupont; butwhen it was found that the opportunity afforded at that time for anadvance inland was not improved, most of those who had moved awayreturned. The attack of Dupont upon Sumter sent some flying again; butnot till the messengers of the "Swamp Angel" dropped among them didthe inhabitants think seriously of leaving. Some went to Augusta,others to Columbia, others to Cheraw. Many wealthy men bought homesin the country. The upper(p. 465) part of the city was crowded. Menof fortune who had lived in princely style were compelled to put upwith one room. Desolation had been coming on apace. The city grew oldrapidly, and had become the completest ruin on the continent. Therewere from ten to fifteen thousand people still remaining in it, twothirds of whom were colored.

When Sherman flanked Orangeburg, Hardee, who commanded the Rebels inCharleston, saw that he must evacuate the place. There was noalternative; he must give up Sumter, Moultrie, and the proud old cityto the Yankees. It was bitter as death! A few of the heavy guns weresent off to North Carolina, all the trains which could be run on therailroad were loaded with ammunition and commissary supplies, the gunsin the forts were spiked, and the troops withdrawn.

The inhabitants had been assured that the place should be defended tothe last; and in theCourier office we found the following sentencein type, which had been set up not twenty-four hours before theevacuation: "There are no indications that our authorities have thefirst intention of abandoning Charleston, as I have ascertained fromcareful inquiry!" Duplicity to the end.

The Rebellion was inaugurated through deception, and had beensustained by an utter disregard of truth.

Friday and Saturday were terrible days. Carts, carriages, wagons,horses, mules, all were brought into use. The railroad trains werecrowded. Men, women, and children fled, terror-stricken,broken-hearted, humbled in spirit, from their homes. How differentfrom the 12th of April, 1861, when they stood upon the esplanade ofthe battery, sat upon the house-tops, clustered in the steeples,looking seaward, shouting and waving their handkerchiefs as the cloudsof smoke and forked flames rolled up from Sumter!

"God don't pay at the end of every week, but he pays at last, my LordCardinal," said Anne of Austria.

General Hardee remained in the city till Friday night, the 17thinstant, when he retired with the army, leaving a detachment ofcavalry to destroy what he could not remove. Every building and shedin which cotton had been stored was fired on Saturday morning. Theironclads "Palmetto State,"(p. 466) "Chicora," and "Charleston" werealso given to the flames. They lay at the wharves, and had each largequantities of powder and shell on board. General Hardee knew that theexplosions of the magazines would send a storm of fire upon the city.He knew it would endanger the lives of thousands; but what cared he?Governor McGrath called upon the people to destroy their houses. Thenewspapers pointed to Moscow as a sublime instance of heroic devotion.Human life, the wailing of infants, the feebleness of old age, weighednothing with Hampton, Hardee, McGrath, General Lee, or Jeff Davis.

The torch was applied early on the morning of the 18th. The citizenssprang to the fire-engines and succeeded in extinguishing the flamesin several places; but in other parts of the city the fire had its ownway, burning till there was nothing more to devour. On the wharf ofthe Savannah Railroad depot were several hundred bales of cotton andseveral thousand bushels of rice. On Lucas Street, in a shed, weretwelve hundred bales of cotton. There were numerous other sheds allfilled. Near by was the Lucas mill, containing thirty thousand bushelsof rice, and Walker's warehouse, with a large amount of commissarystores, all of which were licked up by the fire so remorselesslykindled.

At the Northeastern Railroad depot there was an immense amount ofcotton which was fired. The depot was full of commissary supplies andammunition, powder in kegs, shells, and cartridges. The people rushedin to obtain the supplies. Several hundred men, women, and childrenwere in the building when the flames reached the ammunition and thefearful explosion took place, lifting up the roof and bursting out thewalls, and scattering bricks, timbers, tiles, beams, through the air;shells crashed through the panic-stricken crowd, followed by theshrieks and groans of the mangled victims lying helpless in theflames, burning to cinders in the all-devouring element. Nor was thisall. At the wharves were the ironclads, burning, torn, rent, scatteredover the water and land,—their shells and solid shot, iron braces,red-hot iron plates, falling in an infernal shower, firing thewharves, the buildings, and all that could burn.

There was more than this. Two magnificent Blakely guns—one(p. 467)at the battery, the other near the gas-works on Cooper River—wereloaded to the muzzle and trains laid to burst them. The concussionshattered all the houses in the immediate vicinity.

The buildings near the Northeastern depot were swept away. All thehouses embraced in the area of four squares disappeared. The newbridge leading to James Island was destroyed, the fire eating its wayslowly from pier to pier through the day. The citizens did theirutmost to stay the flames, but from sunrise to sunset on Saturday, allthrough Saturday night, Sunday, and Monday, the fire burned. Howfearful this retribution for crime! Abandoned by those who had cajoledand deceived them, who had brought about their calamity, whileswearing to defend them to the last, humbled, reduced from affluenceto poverty, the people of Charleston were compelled to endure theindescribable agony of those days.

Colonel Bennett, commanding the Twenty-First United States ColoredTroops on Morris Island, seeing signs of evacuation on Saturdaymorning, the 18th, hastened up the harbor in boats with his regiment,landing at the South Atlantic wharf.

"In the name of the United States government," was his note to theMayor, "I demand the surrender of the city of which you are theexecutive officer. Until further orders, all citizens will remain intheir houses."

The mayor, meanwhile, had despatched a deputation to Morris Islandwith formal intelligence of the evacuation.

"My command," wrote Colonel Bennett, "will render every possibleassistance to your well-disposed citizens in extinguishing theflames."

The Twenty-First United States Colored Troops was made up of the oldThird and Fourth South Carolina regiments, and many of them wereformerly slaves in the city of Charleston. They were enlisted at atime when public sentiment was against them, in the winter of 1862-63.I was at Port Royal then, and they were employed in thequartermaster's department. They were sneered at and abused byofficers and men belonging to white regiments; but Colonel Bennettcontinued steadfast in his determination, obtained arms after a longstruggle, in which he was seconded by Colonel Littlefield,Inspector-General(p. 468) of colored troops in the department.Colonel Bennett had organized four companies of the Third and ColonelLittlefield four companies of the Fourth. The two commands were unitedand numbered as the Twenty-First United States Colored Troops. Theywent to Morris Island in 1863, took part in two or three engagements,and proved themselves good soldiers of the Union. It was their highprivilege to be first in the city. The stone which the buildersrejected once in the history of the world became the head stone of thecorner; and in like manner the poor, despised, rejected African race,which had no rights, against whom the city of Charleston plottediniquity and inaugurated treason, marched into the city to save itfrom destruction! Following the Twenty-First was a detachment of theFifty-Fourth Massachusetts.

"Let him lie buried beneath his niggers!" Stung by the insult to thememory of their lamented commander and by the sneer at themselves,will they not now wreak their vengeance on the ill-fated city? It istheir hour for retaliation. But they harbor in their hearts no maliceor revenge. Conscious of their manhood, they are glad of anotheropportunity of showing it.

The soldiers of the Fifty-Fourth have proved their prowess on thefield of battle; they have met the chivalry of South Carolina face toface, and shown their equality in courage and heroism, and on thisever-memorable day they make manifest to the world their superiorityin honor and humanity.

Let the painter picture it. Let the poet rehearse it. With the oldflag above them, keeping step to freedom's drum-beat, up thegrass-grown streets, past the slave-marts where their families andthemselves have been sold in the public shambles, laying aside theirarms, working the fire-engines to extinguish the flames, and, in thespirit of the Redeemer of men, saving that which was lost.

"It was the intention of some of our officers to destroy the city,"said one of the citizens; "they not only set it on fire, but theydouble-shotted the guns of the ironclads, and turned them upon thetown, but fortunately no one was injured when they exploded."

The lower half of the city was called Gillmore's town by theinhabitants.

(p. 469) We visited the old office of theMercury, in Broad Street.A messenger sent by the "Swamp Angel" had preceded us, entering theroof, exploding within the chimney, dumping several cart-loads ofbrickbats and soot into the editorial room, breaking the windows andsplintering the doors. It was the room in which Secession had itsincubation. The leading rebellious spirits once sat there in theirarm-chairs and enthroned King Cotton. They demanded homage to hismajesty from all nations. The first shell sent theMercury up townto a safer locality, but when Sherman began his march into theinterior, theMercury fled into the country to Cheraw, right intohis line of advance!

TheCourier office in Bay Street had not escaped damage. A shellwent down through the floors, ripping up the boards, jarring theplaster from the walls, and exploded in the second story, rattling allthe tiles from the roof, bursting out the windows, smashing thecomposing-stone, opening the whole building to the winds. Anothershell had dashed the sidewalk to pieces and blown a passage into thecellar, wide enough to admit a six-horse wagon. Near theCourieroffice were the Union Bank, Farmers' and Exchange Bank, and CharlestonBank, costly buildings, fitted up with marble mantels, floors ofterra-cotta tiles, counters elaborate in carved work, and withgorgeous frescoing on the walls. There, five years ago, the merchantsof the city, the planters of the country, the slave-traders, assembledon exchange, talked treason, and indulged in extravagant day-dreams ofthe future glory of Charleston.

The rooms were silent now, the oaken doors splintered, the frescoingwashed from the walls by the rains which dripped from the shatteredroof; the desks were kindling-wood, the highly-wrought cornice-workhad dropped to the ground, the tiles were ploughed up, the marblemantles shivered, the beautiful plate-glass of the windows was infragments upon the floor. The banks helped on theRebellion,—contributed their funds to inaugurate it, and investedlargely in the State securities to place the State on a war footing.The three banks named held on January 6, 1862, six hundred and tenthousand dollars' worth of the seven per cent State stock, issuedunder the act of December, 1861.

(p. 470) The entire amount of the State loan of one million eighthundred thousand dollars issued under that act was taken by the banksof the State. Every bank with the exception of the Bank of Camden andthe Commercial Bank of Columbia subscribed to the stock. The sevenCharleston banks at this early stage of the war had loaned the Statepermanently eleven hundred and forty-two thousand dollars.[92]

At this period of the war the State had twenty-seven thousand threehundred and sixty-two troops[93] in the field, out of a whitepopulation of two hundred and ninety-one thousand, by the census of1860,—nearly one half of the voting population, so fiercely burnedthe fires of Secession. But the flames had reached their whitest heat.Even at that time the people had grown weary of the war, and refusedto enlist.

"The activity and energy had been already abstracted," writes thechief of the Military Department of the State; "they had stricken atthe sovereignty of the State; ignorance, indolence, selfishness,disaffection, and to some extent disappointed ambition, were combinedand made unwittingly to aid and abet the enemy, and to become thecoadjutors of Lincoln and all the hosts of abolition myrmidons."[94]

Passing from the banks to the hotels, we found a like scene ofdestruction. The doors of the Mills House were open. The windows hadlost their glazing and were boarded up. Sixteen shots had struck thebuilding. The rooms where Secession had been rampant in the beginning,where bottles of wine had been drunk over the fall of Sumter, echoedonly to our footsteps. The Charleston Hotel, where Governor Pickenshad uttered his proud, exultant, defiant words, was pierced in manyplaces. Dining-halls, parlors, and chambers had been visited bymessengers from Wagner. I gathered strawberry flowers and dandelionsfrom the grass-green pavement in front of the hotel, trodden by thedrunken multitude on that night when the flag of the Union was humbledin the dust.

No wild, tumultuous shoutings now, but silence deep, painful,(p. 471) sorrowful. Our own voices only echoed along the corridors andbalconies where surged the lunatics of that hour. We passed at willalong the streets, wanderers in a desolate city. Along the Battery, abeautiful promenade of the city, shaded by magnolias, and fragrantwith the bloom of roses and syringas, overlooking the harbor, stoodthe residences of the "chivalric" men of South Carolina. From theirbalconies and windows the occupants had watched the first bombardmentof Sumter. They had seen with joyful eyes the flames lick up thebarracks, and the lowering of the flag of the Union. But now theirpalatial homes were wrecks, and they were fugitives. Doorless andwindowless the houses. The elaborate centre pieces of stucco-work inthe drawing-rooms crumbled; the bedrooms filled with bricks, the whitemarble steps and mahogany balusters shattered; owls and bats mightbuild their nests in the coming spring-time undisturbed in thedeserted mansions, the esplanade of the Battery, the pleasure-groundof the Charlestonians, their delight and pride, was now merely a hugeembankment of earth,—a magazine of shot and shell.

The churches—where slavery had been preached as a missionaryinstitution, where Secession had been prayed for, whereTe Deums hadbeen sung over the fall of Sumter and hosannas shouted for the greatvictory of Manassas—were, like the houses, wrecks. The pavements werestrewn with the glass shattered from the windows of old St. Michael's,the pride and reverence of Charleston; and St. Philip's, whereworshipped the rich men, where the great apostle of Secession anddevotee of slavery, Calhoun, lies in his narrow cell, resembled anancient ruin. His grave, marked by a white marble slab, was unharmed,but the bones of his fellow-sleepers had been disturbed by the shells.The yard was overrun with weeds and briers. Bombs had torn through thechurch. Pigeons had free access. Buzzards might roost thereundisturbed.

In 1861 the heart of the city was burned out by a great fire, whichswept from the Cooper River to the Ashley. How it ignited no one hastold. The colored people are fully imbued with the belief that it wassent of the Lord. No attempt had been made to rebuild the waste. Allthe energy of the people had been given to prosecuting the war. Therehad been no sound of trowel, hammer, or saw, except upon theironclads.

(p. 472) The blackened area was overgrown with fire-weeds. Lean andhungry curs barked at us from the tenantless houses. Cats which oncepurred by pleasant firesides ran from their old haunts at ourapproach. The rats had deserted the wharves and moved up town with thepeople. The buzzards, which once picked up the garbage of the markets,had disappeared. A solitary rook cawed to us, perched on the vane ofthe court-house steeple. Spiders were spinning their webs in thecounting-houses.

It was an indescribable scene of desolation,—of roofless houses,cannon-battered walls, crumbling ruins, upheaved pavement, andgrass-grown streets; silent to all sounds of business, voiceless onlyto a few haggard men and women wandering amid the ruins, reflectingupon a jubilant past, a disappointed present, and a hopeless future!

"Her merchants were the great men of the earth; for by their sorcerieswere all nations deceived. And in her was found the blood of theprophets and of the saints."

Charleston was one of the great slave-marts of the South. She was theboldest advocate for the reopening of the slave-trade. Her statesmenlegislated for it; her ministers of the Gospel upheld it as the bestmeans for Christianizing Africa and for the ultimate benefit of thewhole human race. Being thus sustained, the slave-traders set up theirauction-block in no out-of-the-way place. A score of men openedoffices and dealt in the bodies and souls of men. Among them were T.Ryan & Son, M. M. McBride, J. E. Bowers, J. B. Oaks, J. B. Baker,Wilbur & Son, on State and Chalmers Streets. Twenty paces distant fromBaker's was a building bearing the sign, "Theological Library,Protestant Episcopal Church." Standing by Baker's door, and looking upChalmers Street to King Street, I read another sign, "Sunday-SchoolDepository." Also, "Hibernian Hall," the building in which theordinance of Secession was signed. In another building on the oppositecorner was the Registry of Deeds. Near by was the guard-house with itsgrated windows, its iron bars being an appropriate design ofdouble-edged swords and spears. Thousands of slaves had beenincarcerated there for no crime whatever, except for being out afternine o'clock, or for meeting in some secret chamber to tell(p. 473)God their wrongs, with no white man present. They disobeyed the law bynot listening to the bell of old St. Michael's, which at half pasteight in the evening, in its high and venerable tower, opened itstrembling lips and shouted, "Get you home! Get you home!" Always that;always of command; always of arrogance, superiority, and caste; neverof love, good-will, and fellowship. On Sunday morning it said, "Comeand sit in your old-fashioned, velvet-cushioned pews, you rich ones!Go up stairs, you niggers!"

The guard-house doors were wide open. The jailer had lost hisoccupation. The last slave had been immured within its walls, and St.Michael's curfew was to be sweetest music thenceforth and forever. Itshall ring the glad chimes of freedom,—freedom to come, to go, or totarry by the way; freedom from sad partings of wife and husband,father and son, mother and child.

The brokers in flesh and blood took good care to be well buttressed.They set up their market in a reputable quarter, with St. Michael'sand the guard-house, the Registry of Deeds and the Sunday-SchoolDepository, the Court-House and the Theological Library around them tomake their calling respectable.

But the "Swamp Angel" had splintered the pews of St. Michael's,demolished the pulpit, and made a record of its doings in the Registrybuilding. At one stroke it opened the entire front of theSunday-School Depository to the light of heaven. There was also a massof evidence in the courtroom—several cart-loads of brick and plaster,introduced by General Gillmore—against the right of a State tosecede.

I entered the Theological Library building through a window from whichGeneral Gillmore had removed the sash by a solid shot. A pile of oldrubbish lay upon the floor,—sermons, tracts, magazines, books,papers, musty and mouldy, turning into pulp beneath the rain-dropswhich came down through the shattered roof.

Amid these surroundings was the Slave-Mart,—a building with a largeiron gate in front, above which, in large gilt letters, was the wordMART.

The outer iron gate opened into a hall about sixty feet long(p. 474)by twenty broad, flanked on one side by a long table running theentire length of the hall, and on the other by benches. At the fartherend a door, opening through a brick wall, gave entrance to a yard. Thedoor was locked. I tried my boot-heel, but it would not yield. Icalled a freedman to my aid. Unitedly we took up a great stone, andgave a blow. Another, and the door of the Bastile went into splinters.Across the yard was a four-story brick building, with grated windowsand iron doors,—a prison. The yard was walled by high buildings. Hewho entered there left all hope behind. A small room adjoining thehall was the place where women were subjected to the lascivious gazeof brutal men. There were the steps, up which thousands of men, women,and children had walked to their places on the table, to be knockedoff to the highest bidder. The thought occurred to me that perhapsGovernor Andrew, or Wendell Phillips, or William Lloyd Garrison wouldlike to make a speech from those steps. I determined to secure them.While there a colored woman came into the hall to see the two Yankees.

"I was sold there upon that table two years ago," said she.

"You never will be sold again; you are free now and forever!" Ireplied.

"Thank God! O the blessed Jesus, he has heard my prayer. I am so glad;only I wish I could see my husband. He was sold at the same time intothe country, and has gone I don't know where."

Thus spake Dinah More.

In front of the mart was a gilt star. I climbed the post and wrenchedit from its spike to secure it as a trophy. A freedman took down thegilt letters for me, and knocked off the great lock from the outeriron gate, and the smaller lock from the inner door. The key of theFrench Bastile hangs at Mount Vernon; and as relics of the Americanprison-house then being broken up, I secured these.

Entering the brokers' offices,—prisons rather,—we walked along thegrated corridors, looked into the rooms where the slaves had beenkept. In the cellar was the dungeon for the refractory,—bolts andstaples in the floors, manacles for the hands and feet, chains tomake all sure. There had evidently(p. 475) been a sudden evacuationof the premises. Books, letters, bills of sale, were lying on thefloor.

Let us take our last look of the Divine missionary institution. Thuswrites James H. Whiteside to Z. B. Oakes:—

"I know of five very likely young negroes for sale. They are held at high prices, but I know the owner is compelled to sell next week, and they maybe bought low enough so as to pay. Four of the negroes are young men, about twenty years old, and the other a very likely young woman about twenty-two. I have never stripped them, but they seem to be all right."

C. A. Merrill writes from Franklin:—

"If I can I will come and buy some of your fancy girls and other negroes, if I can get them at a discount."

A. J. McElveen writes from Sumterville:—

"I send a woman, age twenty-two. She leaves two children, and her owner will not let her have them. She will run away. I pay for her in notes, $650. She is a house woman, handy with the needle, in fact she does nothing but sew and knit, and attend to house business."

Another letter from the same:—

"I met a man who offered me four negroes,—one woman and three girls, all likely and fine size for the ages,—thirty-six, thirteen, twelve, and nine. The two oldest girls are the same size; all right as to teeth and person."

I cannot transfer to these pages what follows; decency forbids.

Thomas Otey writes from Richmond:—

"This market is fine. They are selling from twenty-five to fifty per day, and at fine prices. A yellow girl sold this morning for $1,320. No qualifications; black ones at $1,150; men at $1,400. Small ones in the ratio."

There was no longer a manifestation of lordly insolence and assumedsuperiority over the Yankees on the part of the whites. They spokerespectfully, but were reticent except when questioned. Once theyasked questions of Yankees: "What is your occupation? What brought youto the South? What are you doing here? I believe you are a —--Abolitionist, and the quicker you get out of this town the better."Such was formerly their language. So they talked to(p. 476) JudgeHoar, a citizen of Massachusetts. So they talked to Colonel Woodfordin 1860.

In 1860, in the month of December, Lieutenant-Colonel Woodford, of theOne Hundred and Twenty-Seventh New York volunteers, was in Charlestonon business. He was waited on one day by a committee of citizens andinformed that he had better leave the city, inasmuch as he was aNortherner, and besides was suspected of being an Abolitionist. He wasput on board a steamer, and compelled to go North. He was now ProvostMarshal of the Department. On the morning of the 20th he visited theoffice of the CharlestonCourier. The editors had fled the city, butthe business man of the establishment remained to protect it. ColonelWoodford was received very graciously. The following conversationpassed between them:—

Colonel W. "Whom have I the pleasure of addressing?"

Business man. "Mr. L—--, sir."

Col. W. "Will you do me the favor to loan me a piece of paper?"

Mr. L. "Certainly, certainly, sir."

Col. W. "Shall I also trouble you for a pen and ink?"

Mr. L. "With pleasure, sir."

The ink was muddy and the pen poor, but the business man, with greatalacrity, obtained another bottle and a better pen. Colonel W.commenced writing again:—

Mr. L. had been overlooking the writing, forgetful of courtesy in hiscuriosity. He could hold in no longer.

"Colonel, surely you don't mean to confiscate my property!Why, Iopposed nullification in 1830!"

"That may be, sir, but you have done what you could to oppose theUnited States since 1860. If you will show me by your files that youhave uttered one loyal word since January 1, 1865, I will take yourcase into consideration."

He could not, and theCourier passed into other hands.

The rich men of the city—those who had begun and sustained(p. 477)the Rebellion—fled when they saw that the place was to fall into thehands of the Yankees. But how bitter the humiliation! On the Sundaypreceding, Rev. Dr. Porter, of the Church of the Holy Communion,preached upon the duty of fighting the Yankees to the last. "Fight!fight, my friends, till the streets run blood! Perish in the lastditch rather than permit the enemy to obtain possession of yourhomes!"

But on Monday morning Dr. Porter was hastening to Cheraw, to avoidbeing caught in Sherman's trap. The people of Charleston expected thatSherman would swing round upon Branchville, and come into the city,and therefore hastened to Columbia, Cheraw, and other northern townsof the interior, where not a few of them became acquainted with the"Bummers."

Rev. Dr. Porter owned a fine residence, which he turned over to anEnglish lady. As there were no hotel accommodations, my friend and Iwere obliged to find private lodgings, and were directed to the houseof the Rev. Doctor. We were courteously received by Mrs. —--, a ladyin middle life, still wearing the bloom of old England on her cheeks,although several years a resident of the sunny South. Rising early inthe morning, for a stroll through the city before breakfast, I foundthe cook and chambermaid breaking out in boisterous laughter. The cookdanced, clapped her hands, sat down in a chair, and reeled backwardand forward in unrestrained ecstasy.

"What pleases you, Aunty?" I asked.

"O massa! I's tickled to tink dat massa Dr. Porter, who said dat noYankee eber would set his foot in dis yar city, had to cut for hislife, and dat a Yankee slept in his bed last night! Bless de Lord fordat!"

The white women manifested their hatred to the bitter end.

"I'll set fire to my house before the Yankees shall have possession ofthe city!" was the exclamation of one excited lady, when it waswhispered that the place was to be evacuated; but her Rebel friendssaved her the trouble by applying the torch themselves.

The colored people looked upon the Yankees as their deliverers frombondage. They spoke of their coming as the advent of the Messiah.Passing along King Street, near the citadel,(p. 478) with myfellow-correspondent, we met an old negress with a basket on her arm,a broad-brimmed straw hat on her head, wearing a brown dress androundabout. She saw that we were Yankees, and made a profoundcourtesy.

"How do you do, Aunty?"

"O bless de Lord, I's very well, tank you," grasping my hand, anddancing for joy. "I am sixty-nine years old, but I feel as if I wan'tbut sixteen." She broke into a chant—

And then, clapping her hands, said, "Bless de Lord! Bless de dearJesus!"

"Then you are glad the Yankees are here?"

"O chile! I can't bress de Lord enough; but I doesn't call youYankees."

"What do you call us?"

"I call you Jesus's aids, and I call you head man de Messiah." Sheburst out into a rhapsody of hallelujah and thanksgivings. "I can'tbress de Lord enough; and bress you, chile: I can't love you enoughfor comin."

"Were you not afraid, Aunty, when the shells fell into the town?"

She straightened up, raised her eyes, and with a look of triumphantjoy, exclaimed,—

"When Mr. Gillmore fired de big gun and I hear de shell a-rushin obermy head, I say, Come dear Jesus, and I feel nearer to Heaben dan Ieber feel before!"

My laundress at Port Royal was Rosa, a young colored woman, whoescaped from Charleston in 1862, with her husband and four otherpersons, in a small boat. On that occasion Rosa dressed herself inmen's clothes, and the whole party early one morning rowed pastSumter, and made for the gunboats.

(p. 479) "If you go to Charleston I wish you would see if my mother isthere," said Rosa. "Governor Aiken's head man knows where she lives."

We went up King Street to Governor Aiken's. We found his "head man" inthe yard,—a courteous black, who, as soon as he learned that we wereYankees, and had a message from Rosa to her mother, dropped all workand started with us, eager to do anything for a Yankee. A walk to JohnStreet, an entrance through a yard to the rear of a dwelling-house,brought us to the mother, in a small room, cluttered with pots,kettles, tables, and chairs. She was sitting on a stool before thefire, cooking her scanty breakfast of corn-cake. She had a little ricemeal in a bag given her by a Rebel officer. She was past sixty yearsof age,—a large, strong woman, with a wide, high forehead andintellectual features. She was clothed in a skirt of dingy negrocloth, a sack of old red carpeting, and poor, thin canvas shoes of herown make. Such an introduction!

"Here comes de great Messiah, wid news of Rosa!" said my introducer,with an indescribable dramatic flourish.

The mother sprang from the stool with a cry of joy. "From Rosa? FromRosa? O, thank the Lord!" She took hold of my hands, looked at me withintense earnestness and joy, and yet with a shade of doubt, as if itcould not be true.

"From Rosa?"

"Yes, Aunty."

She kneeled upon the floor and looked up to heaven. She saw not us,but God and Jesus. The tears streamed from her eyes. She recounted inprayer all her long years of slavery, of suffering, of unrequitedtoil, and achings of the heart. "You have heard me, dear Jesus! Oblessed Lamb!"

It was a conversation between herself and the Saviour. She told himthe story of her life, of all its sorrows, of his goodness, kindness,and love, the tears rolling down her cheeks the while and falling ingreat drops upon the floor. She wanted us to stay and partake of herhumble fare, pressed my hands again and again; and when we told her wemust go, she asked for God's best blessing and for Jesus' love tofollow us. It was a prayer from the heart. We had carried to her thenews(p. 480) that she was free, and that her Rosa was still alive.The long looked-for jubilee morning had dawned, and we were to herGod's messengers, bringing the glad tidings. It was one of the mostthrilling moments I ever experienced.

This woman had been a slave, had been sold, exposed to insult, had norights which a white man was bound to respect. So said the ChiefJustice of the United States, Roger B. Taney. God ordained her, in hisbeneficent goodness, to be a slave. So preached Rev. Dr. Thornwell,the great South Carolina theologian; so said the SouthernPresbyteries, by solemn resolutions. Remembering these things, I wentout from that humble dwelling with my convictions deepened that it wasGod's war, and that the nation was passing through the fire in justpunishment for its crimes against humanity.

The 22d of February, Washington's birthday, was celebrated inCharleston as never before. In the afternoon a small party ofgentlemen from the North sat down to a dinner. Among them were ColonelWebster, Chief of General Sherman's staff, Colonel Markland of thePost-Office Department, several officers of the army and navy, andfour journalists, all guests of a patriotic gentleman fromPhiladelphia, Mr. Getty.

Our table was spread in the house of a caterer who formerly hadprovided sumptuous dinners for the Charlestonians. He was a mulatto,and well understood his art; for, notwithstanding the scarcity ofprovisions in the city, he was able to provide an excellententertainment, set off with canned fruits, which had been put up inEngland, and had run the gauntlet of the blockade.

"John Brown" in Charleston.

Sentiments were offered and speeches made, which in other days wouldhave been called incendiary. Five years before if they had beenuttered there the speakers would have made the acquaintance of JudgeLynch, and been treated to a gratuitous coat of tar and feathers, orreceived some such chivalric attention, if they had not dangled from alamp-post or the nearest tree. Lloyd's Concert Band, coloredmusicians, were in attendance, and "Hail Columbia," the "Star-SpangledBanner," and "Yankee Doodle,"—songs which had not been heard foryears in that city,—were sung with enthusiasm. To stand there, withopen doors and windows, and speak freely without(p. 481) fear of mobviolence, was worth all the precious boon had cost,—to feel that ourwords, our actions, our thoughts even, were not subject to themisinterpretation of irresponsible inquisitors,—that we were notunder Venetian espionage, but infree America, answerable to Godalone for our thoughts, and to no man for our actions, so long as theydid not infringe the rights of others.

Henceforth there shall be free speech in Charleston. A party of twentygentlemen began the new era on the 22d of February, and to me it willever be a pleasant reflection that I was one of the privileged number.

While dining we heard the sound of drums and a chorus of voices.Looking down the broad avenue we saw a column of troops advancing withsteady step and even ranks. It was nearly sunset, and their bayonetswere gleaming in the level rays. It was General Potter's brigade, ledby the Fifty-Fifth Massachusetts,—a regiment recruited from the ranksof slavery. Sharp and shrill the notes of the fife, stirring thedrum-beat, deep and resonant the thousand voices singing their mostsoul-thrilling war-song,—

"John Brown's body lies a mouldering in the grave."

Mingling with the chorus were cheers for Governor Andrew and AbrahamLincoln!

They raised their caps, hung them upon their bayonets. Proud theirbearing. They came as conquerors. Some of them had walked thosestreets before as slaves. Now they were freemen,—soldiers of theUnion, defenders of its flag.

Around them gathered a dusky crowd of men, women, and children,dancing, shouting, mad with very joy. Mothers held up their littleones to see the men in blue, to catch a sight of the starry flag, withits crimson folds and tassels of gold.

"O dark, sad millions, patiently and dumb,
Waiting for God, your hour at last has come,
And freedom's song
Breaks the long silence of your night of wrong."

Up the avenue, past the citadel, with unbroken ranks, they marched,offering no insult, uttering no epithet, manifesting no revenge, forall the wrongs of centuries heaped upon them by a people now humbledand at their mercy.

(p. 482) While walking down the street an hour later I inquired my wayof a white woman. She was going in the same direction, and kindlyvolunteered to direct me.

"How do the Yankees behave?" I asked.

"O, they behave well enough, but the niggers are dreadful sassy."

"They have not insulted you, I hope."

"O no, they haven't insulted me, but they have other folks. They don'tturn out when we meet them; they smoke cigars and go right up to agentleman and ask him for a light!"

The deepest humiliation to the Charlestonians was the presence ofnegro soldiers. They were the provost guard of the city, with theirhead-quarters in the citadel. Whoever desired protection papers orpasses, whoever had business with the marshal or the generalcommanding the city, rich or poor, high-born or low-born, white orblack, man or woman, must meet a colored sentinel face to face andobtain from a colored sergeant permission to enter the gate. They werefirst in the city, and it was their privilege to guard it, their dutyto maintain law and order.

A Rebel officer who had given his parole, but who was indiscreetenough to curse the Yankees, was quietly marched off to theguard-house by these colored soldiers. It was galling to his pride,and he walked with downcast eyes and subdued demeanor.

The gorgeous spectacle of the numerous war vessels in the harborflaming with bunting from yardarm and topmast, and thundering forth anational salute in double honor of the day and the victory, deeplyimpressed the minds of the colored population with the invincibilityof the Yankees.

"O gosh a mighty! It is no use for de Rebs to think of standing outagainst de Yankees any longer. I'll go home and bring Dinah down tosee de sight!" cried an old freedman as he beheld the fleet. Brightcolors are the delight of the African race, and a grand display of anykind has a wonderful effect on their imagination.

Neither the white nor the colored people comprehended the changewhich had taken place in their fortunes. The whites(p. 483) forgotthat they were no longer slave-drivers. Passing down Rutledge Streetone morning I saw a crowd around the door of a building. A friend whowas there in advance of me said that he heard an outcry, looked in,and found a white man whipping a colored woman. Her outcries brought acolored sergeant of the Provost Guard and a squad of men, who quietlytook the woman away, told her to go where she pleased, and informedthe man that that sort of thing was "played out." Two white women werepassing at the time. "O my God! To think that we should ever come tothis!" was the exclamation of one. "Yes, madam, you have come to it,and will have to come to a good deal more," was the reply of myfriend.

There were a few Union men in the city, who through the long strugglehad been true to the old flag. They were mostly Germans. Many Unionofficers escaping from prison had been kindly cared for by thesefaithful friends, who had been subjected to such close surveillancethat secretiveness had become a marked trait of character.

I saw a small flag waving from a window, and wishing to find out whatsort of a Union man resided there, rang the bell. A man came to thedoor, of middle age, light hair, and an honest German face.

"I saw the stars and stripes thrown out from your window, and havecalled to shake hands with a Union man, for I am a Yankee."

He grasped my proffered hand and shook it till it ached.

"Come in, sir. God bless you, sir!"

Then suddenly checking himself, he lowered his voice, looked into theadjoining rooms, peeped behind doors, to see if there were a listenernear.

"We have to be careful; spies all about us," said he, not fullyrealizing that the soldiers of the Union had possession of the city.He showed me a large flag.

"Since the fall of Sumter," said he, "my wife and I have slept on itevery night. We have had it sewed into a feather-bed."

He gazed upon it as if it were the most blessed thing in the world.

He had aided several soldiers in escaping from prison; and(p. 484)on one occasion had kept two officers secreted several weeks, till anopportunity offered to send them out to the blockading fleet.

During the bombardment of the city, the newspapers had published theirdaily bulletins,—"So many shells fired. No damage." From the proudbeginning to the humiliating breaking up of the rule of Secession, thepeople were cheated, deluded, and deceived by false promises and lyingreports. It was sad to walk amid the ruins of what had been once sofair. It seemed a city of a past age and of an extinct generation. Andit was. The Charleston of former days was dead as Palmyra. Old thingshad passed away; a new generation will behold a wondrous change.

"Along that dreary waste where lately rung
The festal lay which smiling virgins sung,
Where rapture echoed from the warbling lute,
And the gay dance resounded, all was mute."

Citizens' volunteer hospital.

(p. 485) CHAPTER XXX.
THE LAST CAMPAIGN.

Hastening northward, I joined the Army of the Potomac in season to bean observer of Grant's last campaign. It was evident that the power ofthe Rebellion to resist was rapidly on the wane. In the West therewere several small Rebel forces, but no large organized body. Hood'sdefeat at Nashville had paralyzed operations east of the Mississippi.Johnston was falling back before Sherman, without ability to check hisadvance.

Grant had strengthened his own army. Schofield was at Wilmington,preparing to co-operate with Sherman. Sheridan was in the Valley, atWinchester,—his cavalry in excellent condition for a move. Thecavalry arm of the service had been growing in importance. Grant hadfostered it, and now held it in his hand, as Jove his thunderbolts.His letter to Sheridan, written on the 20th of February, shows howthoroughly he had prepared for the finishing work.

"As soon as it is possible to travel," he writes, "I think you willhave no difficulty about reaching Lynchburg with a cavalry forcealone. From thence you could destroy the railroad and canal in everydirection, so as to be of no further use to the Rebellion. Sufficientcavalry should be left behind to look after Mosby's gang. FromLynchburg, if information you might get there would justify it, youcould strike south, heading the streams in Virginia to the westward ofDanville, and push on and join Sherman. This additional raid, with onenow about starting from East Tennessee, under Stoneman, numbering fouror five thousand cavalry; one from Eastport, Mississippi, numberingten thousand cavalry; Canby from Mobile Bay, numbering thirty-eightthousand mixed troops,—these three latter pushing for Tuscaloosa,Selma, and Montgomery, and Sherman with a large army eating out thevitals(p. 486) of South Carolina, is all that will be wanted to leavenothing for the Rebellion to stand upon. I would advise you toovercome great obstacles to accomplish this. Charleston was evacuatedon Tuesday last."

Sheridan started on the 27th of February with two divisions ofcavalry, numbering about ten thousand men, reached Staunton on the 2dof March, fell upon Early at Waynesboro', capturing sixteen hundredprisoners, eleven guns, seventeen battle-flags, and two hundredwagons; occupied Charlottesville on the 3d, destroyed the railroad,and burned the bridge on the Rivanna River. A rain-storm delaying histrains, and obliging him to wait two days, he abandoned the attempt toreach Sherman; then dividing his force, he sent one division towardsLynchburg, which broke up the railroad, while the other went downJames River, cutting the canal. He intended to cross the James at NewMarket, move southeast to Appomattox Court-House, strike the SouthSide Railroad, tear it up, and join Grant's left flank; but a fresheton the James prevented the accomplishment of his purpose. He thereforesent scouts through the Rebel lines to Grant, to inform him of thedifficulties he had encountered and consequent change of plan.

"I am going to White House, and shall want supplies at that point,"said he. The scouts left him on the 10th at Columbia, and reachedGrant on the 12th. Sheridan made a rapid march, passing quite nearRichmond on the north, and raising a midnight alarm in the Rebelcapital.

"Couriers reported that the enemy were at the outer fortifications,and had burned Ben Green's house," writes a citizen of Richmond.

"Mr. Secretary Mallory and Postmaster-General Regan were in thesaddle, and rumor says the President and the remainder of the cabinethad their horses saddled, in readiness for flight."[95]

Troops destroying a railroad.

Sheridan was not quite so near, and had no thought of attacking thecity. He passed quietly down the north bank of the Pamunkey to theWhite House, where supplies were in waiting.(p. 487) He rested hishorses a day or two, and then moved to Petersburg.

At daylight on the morning of the 25th of March Lee made his lastoffensive movement.

He conceived the idea of breaking Grant's line east of Petersburg, anddestroying his supplies at City Point. The first part he successfullyaccomplished, but the last could not have been carried out. He massedGordon's and Bushrod Johnson's divisions in front of the Ninth Corps,for an attack upon Fort Steadman and the batteries adjoining. The fortwas held by the Fourteenth New York Heavy Artillery. It was a squareredoubt, covering about one acre, and mounted nine guns, and was notmore than five hundred feet from the Rebel line. The Rebels tore awaytheir own abatis, and in less than a minute were inside the fort.Almost the whole garrison was captured, and the guns turned upon thebatteries.

Colonel Tidball, commanding the artillery in the Ninth Corps, quicklyhad his men at work. General Parke, commanding the Ninth, threwHartranft's and Wilcox's divisions in rear of Fort Steadman. They felllike a thunderbolt upon Gordon's front line, taking eighteen hundredprisoners, forcing the enemy out of the fort, and recapturing theguns.

Long and loud the huzzas which went up when the guns were wheeled oncemore upon the discomfited foe. President Lincoln saw the battle fromthe high ground near the house of Mr. Dunn. During the forenoon Gordonsent in a flag of truce, asking permission to bury his dead, which wasgranted. The Union loss was not far from eight hundred and thirty,mostly in prisoners, while Lee's exceeded three thousand.

General Meade ordered a general attack. He thought that there must bea weak place in some portion of the Rebel line. The Second and SixthCorps succeeded in taking the intrenched picket line, and holding it.Great efforts were made by Lee to regain it, but in vain. Nine hundredprisoners were captured during the afternoon.

I rode to City Point in the evening, and visited Grant'shead-quarters. General Grant was well satisfied with the results ofthe day.

"It will tell upon the next great battle," said he. "Lee has(p. 488)made a desperate attempt and failed. The new recruits fought likeveterans."

He had already issued his order for the grand movement which was togive the finishing blow to the Rebellion. He had been impelled to thisby various causes, not the least of which was the unjust coursepursued by some of the newspapers of the West, which lauded Shermanand his men, but sneered at the Army of the Potomac. The soldiers ofthe East had accomplished nothing, they said, and the soldiers of theWest would have to finish the Rebellion. Sherman had fought his wayfrom Chattanooga to the sea. He was driving all before him. He wouldcome in on Grant's left flank and rout Lee. These taunts and inuendoeswere keenly felt by the men who had won the fields of Gettysburg,Antietam, Wilderness, Spottsylvania, and who had lost eighty thousandof their comrades in forty days. Grant felt it. He saw the dangeroustendency of such jealousy. He knew what the Eastern soldiers could do;that they had fought with unsurpassed bravery and heroism. To avoidsectional animosity between the East and the West, he determined tostrike Lee before Sherman's arrival, and accordingly issued his orderon the 24th.

But Sherman meanwhile visited Grant in person. I was sitting in theoffice of General Grant's Adjutant-General on the morning of the 28thof March, and saw President Lincoln, with Generals Grant, Sherman,Meade, and Sheridan, coming up the walk. Look at the men whose namesare to have a conspicuous place in the annals of America. Lincoln,tall, round-shouldered, loose-jointed, large-featured, deep-eyed, witha smile upon his face. He is dressed in black, and wears a fashionablesilk hat. Grant is at Lincoln's right, shorter, stouter, more compact;wears a military hat with a stiff, broad brim, has his hands in hispantaloons' pockets, and is puffing away at a cigar while listening toSherman. Sherman, tall, with high, commanding forehead, is almost asloosely built as Lincoln; has sandy whiskers, closely cropped, andsharp, twinkling eyes, long arms and legs, shabby coat, slouch hat,his pants tucked into his boots. He is talking hurriedly,gesticulating now to Lincoln, now to Grant, his eyes wanderingeverywhere. Meade, also tall, with thin, sharp features, a graybeard, and(p. 489) spectacles, is a little stooping in his gait.Sheridan, the shortest of all, quick and energetic in all hismovements, with a face bronzed by sun and wind; courteous, affable, athorough soldier. I had not met him for many months, but he at onceremembered me, and spoke of Pittsburg Landing, where I first made hisacquaintance. The plan of the Lieutenant-General was then made knownto his subordinates, and each departed during the day, to carry intoexecution the respective parts assigned them.

Grant's line was nearly forty miles long, extending from the northside of the James to Hatcher's Run. General Ord, who had succeededButler in command of the Army of the James, left Weitzel to maintainthe position north of James River, and moved with two divisions of theTwenty-Fourth Corps under Gibbon, and one of the Twenty-Fifth underBirney, with a division of cavalry under McKenzie, to Hatcher's Run,arriving there on the morning of the 29th.

On the afternoon of the 28th Sheridan started with Crook's andMerritt's divisions of cavalry for Dinwiddie Court-House, while Warrenwith the Fifth Corps crossed Hatcher's Run, and marched towards thesame point.

"We have four days' rations in our haversacks, and twelve days' in ourwagons," said Colonel Batchelder, Quartermaster-in-chief of the Armyof the Potomac.

Lee discovered the movement, and during the evening of the 29th made adiversion against the Ninth Corps. Precisely at ten o'clock there wasa signal-gun, a yell, a volley of musketry as the Rebels attackedParke's picket-line. Then came the roar of the cannonade. The NinthCorps was prepared. Through the afternoon there had been suspiciousmovements along the Rebel lines, and Parke was on the watch. It wassurmised that Lee would endeavor to compel Grant to recall the Fifthand Second Corps. Parke strengthened his picket-line, and brought uphis reserve artillery, to be ready in case of emergency. In threeminutes nearly two hundred guns and mortars were in play. The nightwas dark, the wind south, and rain falling, but the battle increasedin intensity. I stood upon the hill in rear of the Ninth Corps, andwitnessed the display. Thirty shells were in the air at the(p. 490)same instant. The horizon was bright with fiery arches, crossing eachother at all angles, cut horizontally by streams of fire from rifledcannon. Beneath the arches thousands of muskets were flashing. Itsurpassed in sublimity anything I had witnessed during the war. Theslightly wounded in the hospitals of the Ninth Corps who could walkwent out with me to see the fight.

"I wish I was down there with the boys," said one who the day beforehad received a bullet through his right hand.

After two hours of terrific cannonade the uproar ceased, Lee havingfound that Grant's lines were as strong as ever. The demonstrationcost him several hundred soldiers. I talked with one of the woundedRebels.

"You can't subdue us even if you take Richmond," said he; "we'll fightit out in the mountains."

"Undoubtedly you feel like fighting it out, but you may think betterof it one of these days."

A delegate of the Christian Commission sat down to write a letter forhim to his wife, to be sent by a flag of truce.

"Tell her," said he, "that I am kindly treated."

His voice choked and tears rolled down his cheeks. A nurse stood overhim bathing his wounds to cool the fever, combing his hair, andanticipating all his wants. I recalled the words of a citizen ofSavannah, who said, "I went to the stockade when your prisoners werebrought down from Millen, with a basket of oranges to give to the sickand dying, but was told by the officer in command that his orders wereimperative to allow no one to give anything to the prisoners."

Observe the contrast. Here were good beds, nourishing food, delicaciesfrom the stores of the Christian and Sanitary Commissions, and kindattention. There see a crowd of wretches in rags, exposed to thewinds, the rains, the broiling heat or the biting cold, eatingcorn-meal and water, and meat alive with maggots,—stinted tillstarved, held captive till hope died, till the mind wandered, and thevictims became drivelling imbeciles or walking skeletons, and greeteddeath as a welcome release from the horrors of their prison-pen. But Ihave adverted to this before; still commentary is ever provoked.

Hatcher's Run, an affluent of Rowanty Creek, has a general(p. 491)southeast course. It is crossed by three main highways, which lead outof Petersburg towards the southwest,—the Vaughn road farthest east,Squirrel Level road next, and last the Boydtown plank-road. TheSquirrel Level road forks seven miles out, one fork running to theVaughn road and the other to the plank-road. It is nine miles fromPetersburg to the toll gate on the plank-road, which is situated a fewrods south of the run. The stream above this crossing of theplank-road tends west and southwest, so that if a fisherman with hisrod and fly were to start at the head-waters of the creek he wouldtravel northeast, then east, then at the bridge on the plank-roadsoutheast, and after reaching the Vaughn road, south.

Were we to stand upon the bridge where the plank-road crosses thestream, and look northeast, we would obtain a view of the inside ofthe Rebel lines. The bridge was in Lee's possession, also thetoll-gate on the south side, also a portion of the White Oak road,which branches from the plank road, near the toll-gate, and leadswest, midway between the run and the plank-road.

The country is densely wooded, mostly with pine, with occasionalclearings. Several steam saw-mills have been erected in this vicinity,which cut timber for the Petersburg market. The plank-road leads toDinwiddie Court-House, which is fifteen miles from Petersburg. Justbeyond the Court-House is Stony Creek, which has a southeast course,with a branch called Chamberlain's Bed, coming down from the north,having its rise in a swamp near the head of Hatcher's Run.

Now to understand the direction of the Rebel line of fortifications,let us in imagination start from Petersburg and walk down theplank-road. We face southwest, and walk in rear of fort after fortnine miles to Hatcher's Run, where a strong work has been erected onthe north bank of the stream. We cross the bridge and find another onthe south bank near the toll-house and Burgess's tavern. Here we leavethe plank-road, and turning west walk along the White Oak road withHatcher's Run north of us a mile distant. Four miles from the town wecome to "Five Forks," where five roads meet, midway the head ofChamberlain's Bed and Hatcher's Run. This is an important point,—thekey of Petersburg,—which,(p. 492) although so far away from thetown, and apparently of no importance, is in reality the most vitalpoint of all. There is no stream immediately behind or before it, buta mile south is the swamp of Chamberlain's Run; a mile north the lowlands of Hatcher's Run, but here firm, hard ground. If Grant can breakthrough this gateway he can tear up the rails of the South Side road,have unobstructed passage to the Danville road, and Richmond andPetersburg are his. It is six miles from the Forks, north, to therailroad, but that is the best place for Lee to fight, and there heestablishes a strong line of works.

Grant's movement was that of fishermen stretching a seine. He kept oneend of the net firmly fastened to the bank of the Appomattox, whileSheridan drew the other past Dinwiddie Court-House to Five Forks, withthe intention of reaching the railroad west of Petersburg, to enclose,if possible, Lee's entire army. Such the plan,—noble in conception,grand in execution.

Sheridan had started to cut the South Side road at Burkesville, butGrant, upon deliberation, decided to strike nearer.

"I feel like ending the matter, if it is possible to do so, beforegoing back," wrote Grant, from Gravelly Run,—three miles west ofHatcher's Run. "I do not want you to cut loose and go after theenemy's roads at present. In the morning push round the enemy if youcan, and get on to his right rear."

The rain which commenced falling at midnight on the 29th continuedthrough the 30th and the forenoon of the 31st, but Sheridan kept inmotion, reached Dinwiddie at five o'clock on the 29th, where hebivouacked.

On the morning of the 30th he came in contact with the Rebels a milebeyond the Court-House, posted on the west bank of Chamberlain's Run.

W. H. F. Lee's cavalry held the right of the Rebel line, withPickett's division of infantry on the left. During the forenoonBushrod Johnson's division of infantry came down from Five Forks andformed on Pickett's left.

Sheridan reconnoitred the position during the forenoon, and began theattack about two P. M., but the ground was marshy, and his horsescould not be used. Johnson's and Pickett's(p. 493) divisions, andWise's brigade, which also had arrived, crossed the run about halfpast two. The fight was severe. Sheridan dismounted his men, deployedthem as infantry, and contested the ground, falling back on DinwiddieCourt-House, where the battle ended at eight o'clock in the evening.

Meade ordered McKenzie's division of cavalry to hasten to theassistance of Sheridan, and at five o'clock directed Warren to push asmall force down the White Oak road to communicate with that officer,and Bartlett's brigade was sent. During the night Warren's whole forcemoved towards Dinwiddie to attack Pickett and Johnson in the rear, andat daylight was ready for the assault; but the Rebels had decamped,and were once more in position at Five Forks.

On the morning of the 1st of April, Sheridan, having command of theFifth Corps, as well as the cavalry, moved cautiously towards FiveForks. The forenoon was passed in reconnoitring the position, whichwas defended by the whole of Pickett's division, Wise's independentbrigade of infantry, Fitz Hugh Lee's, W. H. Lee's, and Ross'sdivisions of cavalry, and Johnson's division of infantry.

Sheridan's order was to form the whole corps before advancing, so thatall the troops should move simultaneously.

Following the Fifth Corps, we came to the Gravelly Run church, whichis about one and a half miles southeast of Five Forks. A quarter of amile northwest of the church is the house of Mr. Bass, a landmark forthe future historian, for there Sheridan's line turned a right angle.Ayers's division of the Fifth marching past the church, wheeled on thenorth side of the house and faced west. Crawford's division passed on,and came into line north of Ayers's, while Griffin's stood in reserveon the White Oak road, in rear of Ayers's. McKenzie's cavalry, whichhad been some time on the ground, deflected to the right and held theground to Hatcher's Run, which here has a course due east. McKenzie,Crawford, Ayers, and Griffin therefore faced west. Taking the otherleg of the angle, we find Stagg's division of cavalry nearest thehouse of Mr. Bass, then Gibbs's and Fitzhugh's, Pennington's andWells's, all facing north, and on the extreme left, Coppinger's facingnortheast. Fitzhugh's division was directly south of Five(p. 494)Forks. This powerful body of cavalry was all under the command ofMajor-General Merritt.

The woods were dense, with here and there an opening.

"Keep the sun shining over your left shoulders," was Warren's order tohis troops. The length of his front was about one thousand yards, andhis divisions were in three lines,—numbering about twelve thousand.While the troops were forming he drew a sketch of the enemy's positionfor each division commander, and instructed them to explain it to eachbrigade commander, that there might be no mistake in the movement.

The cavalry, through the afternoon, while Warren was getting intoposition, kept up a skirmish fire.

Sheridan was impatient. The sun was going down and he must attack atonce or retire. He could not think of doing the latter, as it wouldgive Pickett and Johnson time to make their intrenchments exceedinglystrong. He ordered Merritt to make a demonstration. That officeradvanced Wells and Coppinger against Johnson's extreme right.

"I am going to strike their left flank with the Fifth Corps, and whenyou hear the musketry, assault all along the line," were hisinstructions to Merritt.

The Fifth advanced in excellent order, sweeping round Pickett's leftflank, and falling on his rear. For a half-hour there was a heavyfire, but the woods being dense the loss was not very great. When theorder to charge bayonet was given, the men rushed forward, leaped overthe intrenchments, and captured Pickett's front line. Pickett formed anew line, which he endeavored to hold against the Fifth. Warrenordered Crawford to take them once more in flank, and sent one ofMcKenzie's brigades to aid him. Ayers's and Griffin's divisions hadbecome disorganized by the success, but reforming they advanced alongthe White Oak road, but were checked by Pickett's new line. Officerswere urging the men forward, but there was faltering. Warren,accompanied by Captain Benvaud, rode to the front, and called upon hisofficers to follow his example. Quick the response. Officers of allranks, from generals to subalterns and the color-bearers, sprangforward. In an instant the line rallied, and with fixed bayonetsleaped(p. 495) upon the enemy and captured the whole force opposingthem. Warren's horse fell, fatally shot, and an orderly by his sidewas killed, within a few paces of the intrenchment. When Merritt heardthe roll of musketry he ordered the attack. His cavalrymen rodefearlessly through the woods, dashed up to the intrenchments, leapedover them and carried the entire line along his front in the firstgrand charge.

"The enemy," says Sheridan, "were driven from their strong line ofworks, completely routed; the Fifth Corps doubling up their left flankin confusion, and the cavalry of General Merritt dashing on to theWhite Oak road, capturing their artillery, turning it upon them, andriding into their broken ranks, so demoralized them that they made noserious stand after their line was carried, but took flight indisorder."[96]

It was now nearly dark, but Merritt and McKenzie followed the enemy,who threw away their guns and knapsacks, and sought safety in flight,or finding themselves hard pressed, surrendered.

Between five and six thousand prisoners and eighteen pieces ofartillery were captured. The way was open to the South Side Railroad.Grant determined to turn the success to quick account. "Attack alongthe whole line," was his message to the corps commanders.

At ten o'clock Saturday evening the cannonade began. All the batteriesjoined, all the forts, the gunboats in the Appomattox, the batterieswest of Bermuda Hundred, and the monitors by the Howlet House. Therewas a continual succession of flashes and an unbroken roll of thunder.The Rebels had no peace during the night.

"Send up the provost brigade," was Grant's despatch sent to CityPoint. The Sixty-First Massachusetts, One Hundred and Fourteenth NewYork, and other regiments, and Sheridan's dismounted cavalry, were outat daybreak and on the march.

"Send up the marines to guard the prisoners," was his second despatch,and the blue-jackets from the gunboats, with carbines, were sentashore. The time had come for the mustering(p. 496) of everyavailable man. The sailors took cars at City Point, and sang all theway to Hatcher's Run, as if they were having a lark.

Lee was in trouble. He sent a message to Longstreet, who was north ofthe James, to hurry to Petersburg. Longstreet put Ewell in command andhastened across the James, with Fields's division. Lee had threebridges, besides those in Richmond,—one at Warwick's, another atKnight's farm, and the third at Chaffin's Bluff. Longstreet, Lee'sablest general, stout, robust, with heavy black whiskers, with hisstaff, galloped across the middle bridge toward Petersburg, leavinghis troops to follow.

The Richmond bells were ringing, not the pæan of victory, as aftersome of their successful battles, but for the assembling of themilitia to man the fortifications from which Longstreet's troops wereretiring.

"The beat of the alarming drum
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star,
While thronged the citizens with terror dumb,
Or whispering, with white lips, 'The foe! They come! they come!'"

Let us look at Lee's lines at midnight, Saturday, April 1st. Johnson,Pickett, Wise, and W. H. F. Lee's cavalry are fleeing towards theAppomattox, beyond Hatcher's Run; A. P. Hill is holding the line eastof the Run; Gordon occupies the fortifications from the Jerusalem roadto the Appomattox; Longstreet is hastening down from Richmond; Ewellis north of the James, and the citizens of Richmond are jumping fromtheir beds to shoulder muskets for service in the trenches. Lee hasnot yet decided to evacuate Petersburg. He will wait and see what aday may bring forth.

He had not long to wait. Parke, commanding the Ninth Corps, during thenight, prepared to assault. It was precisely four o'clock when thedivisions leaped from their intrenchments, and with bayonets fixed,without firing a gun, tore away the abatis in front of the forts,swarmed over the embankments, crawled into the embrasures, and climbedthe parapet. It was the work of five minutes only, but four forts,mounting between twenty and thirty guns, were taken, with sevenhundred prisoners.

(p. 497) Grant began early on Sunday morning to draw the farther endof the net toward Petersburg. Sheridan, with the cavalry and twodivisions of the Fifth, moved upon Sutherland's Station on the SouthSide Railroad, eleven miles from Petersburg. Grant sent him Miles'sdivision of the Second Corps. Wright and Ord, east of the run, at nineo'clock assaulted the works in their front, and after a severestruggle carried them, capturing all the guns and several thousandprisoners.

Humphrey, who was west of the run, now was able to leave his positionand join Wright and Ord. By noon we see the net drawn close. Sheridanat Sutherland's, with the Fifth Corps, then Humphrey, Ord, and Wright;all swinging towards the city, taking fort after fort and contractingthe lines.

In the morning I watched the movements on the left, but as the lineadvanced, hastened east in season to see the last attack on FortsMahone and Gregg, the two Rebel strongholds south of the town. Theseforts were in rear of the main Rebel line, on higher ground.

The troops, in columns of brigades, moved steadily over the field,drove in the Rebel pickets, received the fire of the batteries withoutbreaking, leaped over the breastworks with a huzza, which rang shrilland clear above the cannonade. Mahone was an embrasured battery ofthree guns; Gregg, a strong fort with sally-ports, embrasures for sixguns, and surrounded by a deep ditch. Mahone was carried with a rush,the men mounting the escarpment and jumping into it, regardless of thefire poured upon them by the Rebels.

There was a long struggle for the possession of Gregg. Heth and Wilcoxwere there, animating the garrison. The attacking columns moved inexcellent order over the field swept by the guns of the fort, and evenreceived the canister without staggering. The fort was enveloped insmoke, showing that the defence was heroic, as well as the assault.

The lines move on. The soldiers spring into the ditch and climb theembankment. The foremost, as they reach the top, roll back upon theircomrades. They are lost from sight in smoke and flame; but from thecloud there comes a hurrah, and the old flag waves in the sunlightabove the stronghold which, through all the weary months, hasthundered defiance.

(p. 498) Lee's line was broken at the centre, and Petersburg was nolonger tenable.

It was inspiriting to stand there, and watch the tide of victoryrolling up the hill. With that Sunday's sun the hopes of the Rebelsset, never to rise again. The C. S. A.,—the Confederate SlaveArgosy,—freighted with blood and groans and tears, the death's-headand cross-bones at her masthead, hailed as a rightful belligerent,furnished with guns, ammunition, and all needful supplies bysympathetic England and France, was a shattered, helpless wreck.

Fire ambulance.

(p. 499) CHAPTER XXXI.
RICHMOND

There was no longer the semblance of a Confederacy. Jeff Davis andBreckenridge were fugitives, without country or home. The Rebel armywas flying. Richmond was in flames. The Rebellion had gone down in anight,—in darkness as it originated, and as it ought to die.

At three o'clock, Monday morning, an explosion took place which shookRichmond to its foundations, and made even the beds in the hospital atCity Point heave as if by an earthquake. It was occasioned by theblowing up of the Rebel ironclads. Semmes was again without a command,for the Rebel navy was no more. If not swept from the ocean by Unioncruisers, as the Alabama was by the Kearsarge, it was crushed by theponderous blows of Grant and his victorious legions, as the result ofhis successes in the field. The shock roused the army from slumber.The hosts surrounding Petersburg needed no other reveille. Thesoldiers were on their feet in an instant, and General Wilcox(commanding the first division of the Ninth Corps) accepted it as asignal to advance. He was lying east of the city, his right resting onthe Appomattox. His men sprang forward, but found only deserted works.The last body of Rebels—the lingerers who were remaining to plunderthe people of Petersburg—took to their heels, and the divisionentered the town without opposition.

The entire army was in motion. Engineers hurried up with pontoons,strung them across the Appomattox, and Grant began the pursuit. Ientered the town soon after sunrise, and found troops pouring in fromall quarters, cheering, swinging their caps, helping themselves totobacco, rushing upon the double-quick, eager to overtake Lee.

The colored population thronged the streets, swinging their old hats,bowing low, and shouting "Glory!" "Bless de Lord!"(p. 500) "I's beena praying for dis yere to happen, but didn't 'spect it quite so soon.""It is ges like a clap of thunder," said an old negro.

"I's glad to see you. I'm been trying and wishing and praying dat deLord would help me get to de Yankees, and now dey has come into disyere city," said another. The citizens of the place, also, were in thestreets, amazed and confounded at what had happened. Provost GeneralMacy, of Massachusetts, established a guard to prevent depredationsand to save the army from demoralization. The Rebels, beforeretreating, destroyed their commissary stores and set all the tobaccowarehouses on fire. I took a hurried survey of the Rebel works infront of Fort Steadman, and found them very strong. The ground washoneycombed by the shells which had been thrown from the mortars ofthe Ninth Corps.

General Grant was early in the town, cool, calm, and evidently wellpleased with the aspect of affairs; and President Lincoln, who was atCity Point, visited Petersburg during the day. He went up in a specialcar. The soldiers at Meade Station caught a sight of him, and cheeredmost heartily. He acknowledged the enthusiasm and devotion of thesoldiers by bowing and thanking them for the glorious achievement oftheir arms. On Friday he looked care-worn, but the great victory hadsmoothed the deep wrinkles on his brow.

Reaching City Point at noon, I was soon in the saddle, gallopingtowards Richmond; crossing the Appomattox at Broadway, riding toVarina, crossing the James on the pontoons, and approaching the cityby the New Market road, overtaking a division of the Twenty-FifthCorps on the outskirts of the city. It was a hard, exhausting ride.Two miles out from the city my horse fell, and I found myself turninga summersault into the ditch; without broken bones, however, but I wasobliged to moderate my speed for the remainder of the distance.

Before entering upon the narrative of my own observations, let us takea look at events transpiring in the city on Sunday.

"We are," said theSentinel of Saturday evening, "very hopeful ofthe campaign which is opening, and trust that we are to(p. 501) reapa large advantage from the operations evidently near at hand.... Wehave only to resolve that we never will surrender, and it will beimpossible that we shall ever be taken."

"My line is broken in three places, and Richmond must be evacuated,"was Lee's despatch to Jeff Davis. The messenger found him in Rev. Dr.Minnegerode's church. He read the despatch, hurried to the ExecutiveMansion, passed up the winding stairway to his business apartment, satdown by a small table, wrote an order for the removal of the coin inthe banks to Danville, for the burning of the public documents, andfor the evacuation of the city. Mrs. Davis had left the city severaldays previous.

Rev. Dr. Minnegerode, before closing the forenoon service, gave noticethat General Ewell desired the local forces to assemble at 3 P. M.There was no evening service. Ministers and congregations wereotherwise employed. Rev. Mr. Hoge, a fierce advocate for slavery as abeneficent institution, packed his carpet-bag. Rev. Mr. Duncan wasmoved to do likewise. Mr. Lumpkin, who for many years had kept aslave-trader's jail, had a work of necessity on this Lord's day,—thetemporal salvation of fifty men, women, and children! He made up hiscoffle in the jail-yard, within pistol-shot of Jeff Davis's parlorwindow, and a stone's throw from the Monumental Church. The poorcreatures were hurried to the Danville depot. This sad and weepingfifty, in handcuffs and chains, was the last slave coffle that shalltread the soil of America.

Slavery being the corner-stone of the Confederacy, it was fitting thatthis gang, keeping step to the music of their clanking chains, shouldaccompany Jeff Davis, his secretaries Benjamin and Trenholm, and theReverend Messrs. Hoge and Duncan, in their flight. The whole Rebelgovernment was on the move, and all Richmond desired to be. Nothoughts now of taking Washington, or of the flag of the Confederacyflaunting in the breeze from the dome of the national Capitol!Hundreds of officials were at the depot, waiting to get away from thedoomed city. Public documents, the archives of the Confederacy, werehastily gathered up, tumbled into boxes and barrels, and taken to thetrains, or carried into the streets and set on fire. Coaches,carriages, wagons, carts, wheelbarrows,(p. 502) everything in theshape of a vehicle, was pressed into use. There was a jumble of boxes,chests, trunks, valises, carpet-bags,—a crowd of excited men sweatingas never before: women with dishevelled hair, unmindful of theirwardrobes, wringing their hands, children crying in the crowd,sentinels guarding each entrance to the train, pushing back at thepoint of the bayonet the panic-stricken multitude, giving precedenceto Davis and the high officials, and informing Mr. Lumpkin that hisniggers could not be taken. O, what a loss was there! It would havebeen fifty thousand dollars out of somebody's pocket in 1861, andmillions now of Confederate promises to pay, which the hurryingmultitude and that chained slave gang were treading underfoot,—trampling the bonds of the Confederate States of America in themire, as they marched to the station; for the oozy streets were asthickly strewn with four per cents, six per cents, eight per cents, asforest streams with autumn leaves.

"The faith of the Confederate States is pledged to provide andestablish sufficient revenues for the regular payment of the interest,and for the redemption of the principal," read the bonds; but therewas a sudden eclipse of faith, a collapse of confidence, a shrivellingup like a parched scroll of the entire Confederacy, which was a basecounterfeit of the American Union it sought to overturn and supplant,now an exploded concern, and wound up by Grant's orders, its bonds,notes, and certificates of indebtedness worth less than the paper onwhich they were printed.

Soon after dark the commissaries, having loaded all the army wagonswith supplies, began the destruction of what they could not carryaway. In the medical purveyor's department were several hundredbarrels of whiskey, which were rolled into the street and stove in bysoldiers with axes. As the liquor ran down the gutter, officers andsoldiers filled their flasks and canteens, while those who had nocanteen threw themselves upon the ground and drank from the fierystream. The rabble with pitchers, basins, dipped it up and drank as ifit were the wine of life. The liquor soon began to show its effects.The crowd became a mob, and rushed upon the stores and governmentwarehouses. The soldiers on guard at first kept(p. 503) them at bay,but as the darkness deepened the whiskey-maddened crowd became morefurious. By midnight there was a grand saturnalia. The flour in thegovernment stores was seized. Men were seen rolling hogsheads of baconthrough the streets. Women filled their aprons with meal, their armswith candles. Later in the night the floatingdébris of the armyreached the city,—the teamsters, servants, ambulance-drivers, withstragglers from the ranks, who pillaged the stores. First attackingthe clothing, boot, and hat stores, then the jewellers' shops and thesaloons, and lastly the dry-goods establishments. Costly panes ofglass were shivered by the butts of their muskets, and the recklesscrowd poured in to seize whatever for the moment pleased their fancy,to be thrown aside the next instant for something more attractive.

"As I passed the old market-house," writes a Rebel soldier, "I met atall fellow with both arms full of sticks of candy, dropping part ofhis sweet burden at every step."

"Stranger," said he, "have you got a sweet tooth?"

"I told him that I did not object to candy."

"Then go up to Antoni's and get your belly full, and all for nothing."

"A citizen passed me with an armful of hats and caps. 'It is every manfor himself and the Devil for us all to-night,' he said, as he rushedpast me."[97]

The train which bore Jeff Davis from the city left at eight o'clock inthe evening. He took his horses and coach on board for a flight acrossthe country, in case Sheridan stopped the cars. He was greatlydepressed in spirits, and his countenance was haggard and care-worn.At the station there was a crowd of men who had fawned uponhim,—office-holders, legislators, and public-spirited citizens whohad made great sacrifices for the Rebellion,—who, now that theywished to obtain standing room upon the train, found themselves rudelythrust aside by the orders of the President. They were of no moreaccount than the rest of the excited populace that knew Davis but toexecrate him.

In the Sabbath evening twilight, the train, with the fugitive(p. 504) government, its stolen bullion, and its Doctors of Divinityon board, moved out from the city.

At the same hour the Governor of Virginia, William Smith, and theLegislature, embarked in a canal-boat, on the James River and KanawhaCanal, for Lynchburg. On all the roads were men, women, and children,in carriages of every description, with multitudes on horseback and onfoot, flying from the Rebel capital. Men who could not get away weresecretly at work, during those night-hours, burying plate and money ingardens; ladies secreted their jewels, barred and bolted their doors,and passed a sleepless night, fearful of the morrow, which would bringin the despised "Vandal horde of Yankee ruffians"; for such were theepithets they had persistently applied to the soldiers of the Unionthroughout the war.

But the government was not quite through with its operations inRichmond. General Ewell remained till daylight on Monday morning toclear up things,—not to burn public archives in order to destroyevidence of Confederate villany, but to add to the crime alreadycommitted another so atrocious that the stanchest friends of theConfederacy recoiled with horror even from its contemplation.

It was past midnight when the Mayor learned that Ewell had issuedorders for firing the government buildings and the tobacco warehouses.He sent a deputation of prominent citizens to remonstrate. They werereferred to Major Melton, who was to apply the torch.

"It is a cowardly pretext on the part of the citizens, trumped up tosave their property for the Yankees," said he.

The committee endeavored to dissuade him from the act.

"I shall execute my orders," said he.

They went to General Ewell, who with an oath informed them that thetorch would be applied at daylight. Breckenridge was there, who saidthat it would be a disgrace to the Confederate government to endangerthe destruction of the entire city. He was Secretary of War, and couldhave countermanded the order. Will not history hold him accountable?

To prevent the United States from obtaining possession of a fewthousand hogsheads of tobacco, a thousand houses were destroyed byfire, the heart of the city burnt out,—all of the(p. 505) businessportion, all the banks and insurance-offices, half of the newspapers,with mills, depots, bridges, founderies, workshops, dwellings,churches,—thirty squares in all, swept clean by the devouring flames.It was the final work of the Confederate government. Inaugurated inheat and passion, carried on by hate and prejudice, its end was but inkeeping with its career,—the total disregard of the rights of personand property.

In the outskirts of the city, on the Mechanicsville road, was thealmshouse, filled with the lame, the blind, the halt, poor, sick,bed-ridden creatures. Ten rods distant was a magazine containingfifteen or twenty kegs of powder, which might have been rolled intothe creek near at hand, and was of little value to a victorious armywith full supplies of ammunition; but the order of Jeff Davis to blowup the magazines was peremptory and must be executed.

"We give you fifteen minutes to get out of the way," was the solenotice to that crowd of helpless beings lying in their cots, at threeo'clock in the morning. Men and women begged for mercy; but theircries were in vain. The officer in charge of the matter wasinexorable. Clotheless and shoeless, the inmates ran in terror fromthe spot to seek shelter in the ravines; but those who could not runwhile the train to fire it was being laid, rent the air with shrieksof agony. The match was applied at the time. The concussion crushed inthe broad side of the house as if it had been pasteboard. Windows flewinto flinders. Bricks, stones, timbers, beams, and boards were whirledthrough the air. Trees were twisted off like withes in the hands of agiant. The city was wrenched and rocked as by a volcanic convulsion.The dozen poor wretches whose infirmities prevented their leaving thehouse wore horribly mangled; and when the fugitives who had soughtshelter in the fields returned to the ruins they found only thebruised and blackened remains of their fellow-inmates.

Let us take a parting glance at the Rebel army as it leaves the city.

The day is brightening in the east. The long line of baggage-wagonsand the artillery has been rumbling over the bridges all night. Therailroad trains have been busy in conveying(p. 506) the persons andproperty of both the government and the people; but the last hasdeparted, and still a disappointed crowd is left at the depot. Theroads leading west are filled with fugitives in all sorts of vehicles,and on horseback and on foot.

Men are rolling barrels of tar and turpentine upon the bridges. Guardsstand upon the Manchester side to prevent the return of any soldierbelonging to Richmond. Custis Lee's division has crossed, andKershaw's division, mainly of South Carolinians, follows. The troopsmarch silently; they are depressed in spirit. The rabble of Manchesterhave found out what fine times their friends in Richmond are having,and old women and girls are streaming across the bridges laden withplunder,—webs of cloth, blankets, overcoats, and food from thegovernment storehouses. The war-worn soldiers, ragged and barefoot,behold it, and utter curses against the Confederate government forhaving deprived them of clothing and food.

General Ewell crosses the bridge, riding an iron-gray horse. He wearsan old faded cloak and slouch hat. He is brutal and profane, minglingoaths with his orders. Following him is John Cabel Breckenridge, thelong, black, glossy hair of other days changed to gray, his high,broad forehead wrinkled and furrowed. He is in plain black, with atalma thrown over his shoulders. He talks with Ewell, and gazes uponthe scene. Suddenly a broad flash of light leaps up beyond the city,accompanied with a dull, heavy roar, and he sees the air filled withflying timbers of the hospital, whose inmates, almost without warning,and without cause or crime, are blown into eternity.

The last division has crossed the river. The sun is up. A match istouched to the turpentine spread along the timbers, and the bridgesare in flames; also the tobacco warehouses, the flouring-mills, thearsenals, and laboratory. The Rebel troops behold the conflagration asthey wind along the roads and through the green fields towards thesouthwest, and memory brings back the scenes of their earlierrejoicing. It is the 2d of April, four years lacking two weeks sincethe drunken carousal over the passage of the ordinance of Secession.

Ruins of Richmond.

It was a little past four o'clock when Major A. H. Stevens of theFourth Massachusetts cavalry, and Provost Marshal of(p. 507) theTwenty-Fifth Army Corps, with detachments from companies E and H,started upon a reconnoissance of the enemy's intrenchments. He foundthem evacuated and the guns spiked. A deserter piloted the detachmentsafely over the torpedoes which had been planted in front of them. Amile and a half out from the city, Major Stevens met a barouche andfive men mounted bearing a white flag. The party consisted of theMayor, Judge Meredith of the Confederate States Court, and othergentlemen, who tendered the surrender of the city. He went into thecity and was received with joy by the colored people, who shoutedtheir thanks to the Lord that the Yankees had come. He proceeded tothe Capitol, ascended the roof, pulled down the State flag which wasflying, and raised the guidons of the two companies upon the building.

The flames were spreading, and the people, horror-struck and stupefiedby the events of the night, were powerless to arrest them. On, on,from dwelling to warehouse, from store to hotel, from hotel to banks,to the newspaper offices, to churches, all along Main Street from nearthe Spottswood Hotel to the eastern end of the town; then back to theriver, to the bridges across the James, up to the large stonefire-proof building, erected by the United States for a post-office,full of Confederate shinplasters, around this, on both sides of it, upto Capitol Square, the flames roared and leaped and crackled,consuming all the business part of the city. In the arsenal wereseveral thousand shells, which exploded at intervals, throwingfragments of iron, burning timbers, and blazing brands and cindersover the surrounding buildings, and driving the people from theirhomes.

Major Stevens ordered the fire-engines into position, posted hissoldiers to preserve order, and called upon the citizens to work theengines, and did what he could to stop the progress of the devouringelement.

General Weitzel triumphantly entered the city at eight o'clock, thecolored soldiers singing the John Brown song. With even ranks andsteady step, colors waving, drums beating, bands playing, the columnspassed up the streets, flanked with fire, to the Capitol. Thenstacking their guns, and laying aside their knapsacks, they sprang tothe engines, or mounted(p. 508) the roofs and poured in buckets ofwater, or tore down buildings, to stop the ravages of the fire kindledby the departing Rebels,—emulating the noble example of theircomrades in arms at Charleston; like them manifesting novindictiveness of spirit, but forgetting self in their devotion toduty, forgetting wrong and insult and outrage in their desire to servetheir oppressors in their hour of extremity.

The business portion was a sea of flame when I entered the city in theafternoon. I tried to pass through Main Street, but on both sides thefire was roaring and walls were tumbling. I turned into a side street,rode up to the Capitol, and then to the Spottswood Hotel. Dr. Reed'schurch in front was in flames. On the three sides of the hotel thefire had been raging, but was now subdued, and there was a fairprospect that it would be saved.

"Can you accommodate me with a room?"

"I reckon we can, sir, but like enough you will be burnt out beforemorning. You can have any room you choose. Nobody here."

I registered my name on a page which bore the names of a score ofRebel officers who had left in the morning, and took a room on thefirst floor, from which I could easily spring to the ground in casethe hotel should be again endangered by the fire.

Throwing up the sash I looked out upon the scene. There were swayingchimneys, tottering walls, streets impassable from piles of brick,stones, and rubbish. Capitol Square was filled with furniture, beds,clothing, crockery, chairs, tables, looking-glasses. Women wereweeping, children crying. Men stood speechless, haggard, wobegone,gazing at the desolation.

In Charleston the streets echoed only to the sound of my own footstepsor the snarling of hungry curs. There I walked through weeds, and trodupon flowers in the grassy streets; but in Richmond I waded throughConfederate promises to pay, public documents, and broken furnitureand crockery.

Granite columns, iron pillars, marble façades, broken into thousandsof pieces, blocked the streets. The Bank of Richmond, Bank of theCommonwealth, Traders' Bank, Bank of Virginia, Farmers' Bank, a scoreof private banking-houses, the American Hotel, the Columbian Hotel,theEnquirer and(p. 509) theDispatch printing-offices, theConfederate Post-Office Department, the State Court-House, theMechanics' Institute, all the insurance offices, the Confederate WarDepartment, the Confederate Arsenal, the Laboratory, Dr. Reed'schurch, several founderies and machine-shops, the Henrico CountyCourt-House, the Danville and the Petersburg depots, the three bridgesacross the James, the great flouring-mills, and all the best stores ofthe city, were destroyed.

Soldiers from General Devens's command were on the roof of theCapitol, Governor's house, and other buildings, ready to extinguishthe flames. The Capitol several times caught fire from cinders.

"If it had not been for the soldiers the whole city would have gone,"said a citizen.

The colored soldiers in Capitol Square were dividing their rationswith the houseless women and children, giving them hot coffee,sweetened with sugar,—such as they had not tasted for many months.There were ludicrous scenes. One negro had three Dutch-ovens on hishead, piled one above another, a stew-pan in one hand and a skillet inthe other. Women had bags of flour in their arms, baskets of salt andpails of molasses, or sides of bacon. No miser ever gloated over hisgold so eagerly as they over their supply of provisions. They had allbut starved, but now they could eat till satisfied.

How stirring the events of that day! Lee retreating, Grant pursuing;Davis a fugitive; the Governor and Legislature of Virginia seekingsafety in a canal-boat; Doctors of Divinity fleeing from the wraththey feared; the troops of the Union marching up the streets; the oldflag waving over the Capitol; Rebel ironclads blowing up; Richmond onfire; the billows rolling from square to square, unopposed in theirprogress by the bewildered crowd; and the Northern Vandals laying downtheir arms, not to the enemy in the field, but the better to battlewith a foe not more relentless, but less controllable with the weaponsof war. Weird the scenes of that strange, eventful night,—theglimmering flames, the clouds of smoke hanging like a funeral pallabove the ruins, the crowd of homeless creatures wandering thestreets.

"Such resting found the soles of unblest feet!"

(p. 510) In the morning I visited the Capitol building, which, likethe Confederacy, had become exceedingly dilapidated, the windowsbroken, the carpets faded, the paint dingy.

General Weitzel was in the Senate Chamber issuing his orders; alsoGeneral Shepley, Military Governor, and General Devens.

The door opened, and a smooth-faced man, with a keen eye, firm, quick,resolute step, entered. He wore a plain blue blouse with three starson the collar. It was the hero who opened the way to New Orleans, andwho fought the battle of the Mobile forts from the masthead of hisvessel,—Admiral Farragut. He was accompanied by General Gordon ofMassachusetts, commanding the Department of Norfolk. They heard thenews Monday noon, and made all haste up the James, landing at Varinaand taking horses to the city. It was a pleasure to take the braveAdmiral's hand, and answer his eager questions as to what Grant haddone. Being latest of all present from Petersburg, I could give himthe desired information. "Thank God, it is about over," said he of theRebellion.

It was a little past noon when I walked down to the river bank to viewthe desolation. While there I saw a boat pulled by twelve rowerscoming up stream, containing President Lincoln and his little son,Admiral Porter, and three officers. Forty or fifty freedmen—solepossessors of themselves for twenty-four hours—were at work on thebank of the canal, under the direction of a lieutenant, securing somefloating timber; they crowded round the President, forgetting work intheir wild joy at beholding the face of the author of the greatEmancipation Proclamation. As he approached I said to a coloredwoman,—

"There is the man who made you free."

"What, massa?"

"That is President Lincoln."

"Dat President Linkum?"

"Yes."

She gazed at him a moment in amazement, joy, rapture, as if insupernal presence, then clapped her hands, jumped and shouted,"Glory! glory! glory!"

Farragut at Mobile.

(p. 511) "God bless you, Sah!" said one, taking off his cap and bowingvery low.

"Hurrah! hurrah! President Linkum hab come! President Linkum habcome!" rang through the street.

The lieutenant found himself without men. What cared those freedmen,fresh from the house of bondage, for floating timber or militarycommands? Their deliverer had come,—he who, next to the Lord Jesus,was their best friend! It was not a hurrah that they gave so much as awild, jubilant cry of inexpressible joy.

They pressed round the President, ran ahead, and hovered upon theflanks and rear of the little company. Men, women, and children joinedthe constantly increasing throng. They came from all the streets,running in breathless haste, shouting and hallooing, and dancing withdelight. The men threw up their hats, the women waved their bonnetsand handkerchiefs, clapped their hands, and shouted, "Glory to God!glory! glory! glory!"—rendering all the praise to God, who had giventhem freedom, after long years of weary waiting, and had permittedthem thus unexpectedly to meet their great benefactor.

"I thank you, dear Jesus, that I behold President Linkum!" was theexclamation of a woman who stood upon the threshold of her humblehome, and with streaming eyes and clasped hands, gave thanks aloud tothe Saviour of men.

Another, more demonstrative, was jumping and swinging her arms,crying, "Bless de Lord! Bless de Lord! Bless de Lord!" as if therecould be no end of her thankfulness.

No carriage was to be had, so the President, leading his son, walkedto General Weitzel's head-quarters,—Jeff Davis's mansion. Sixsailors, wearing their round blue caps and short jackets and baggypants, with navy carbines, formed the guard. Next came the Presidentand Admiral Porter, flanked by the officers accompanying him, and thewriter, then six more sailors with carbines,—twenty of us in all.

The walk was long, and the President halted a moment to rest. "May degood Lord bless you, President Linkum!" said an old negro, removinghis hat and bowing, with tears of joy rolling down his cheeks. ThePresident removed his own hat(p. 512) and bowed in silence: it was abow which upset the forms, laws, customs, and ceremonies of centuriesof slavery. It was a death-shock to chivalry, and a mortal wound tocaste. Recognize a nigger! Disgusting. A woman in an adjoining housebeheld it, and turned from the scene with unspeakable contempt. Therewere men in the surging mass who looked daggers from their eyes, andfelt murder in their hearts, if they did not breathe it from theirlips. But the hour of sacrifice had not yet come; the chosen assassinwas not there; the crowning work of treason and traitors yet remainedto be performed. Not the capital of the defunct slave Confederacy, butof the restored nation, was to be the scene of the last brutal act inthe tragedy of horrors perpetrated in the name of Christianity. Thegreat-hearted, noble-minded, wise-headed man, whom Providence hadplaced in the Executive chair to carry successfully through the bloodywar of freedom against slavery to its glorious consummation, passed onto the mansion from whence the usurping President had fled.

When the soldiers saw him amid the noisy crowd they cheered lustily.It was an unexpected ovation. Such a welcome, such homage, true,heartfelt, deep, impassioned, no prince or prelate ever received.

President Lincoln in Richmond.

The streets becoming impassable on account of the increasingmultitude, soldiers were summoned to clear the way. How strange theevent! The President of the United States—he who had been hated,despised, maligned above all other men living by the people ofRichmond—was walking its streets, receiving every evidence of loveand honor! How bitter the reflections of that moment to some whobeheld him, who remembered, perhaps, that day in May, 1861, whenJefferson Davis entered the city,—the pageant of that hour, hisspeech, his promise to smite the smiter, to drench the fields ofVirginia with richer blood than that shed at Buena Vista! How thatpart of the promise had been kept; how their sons, brothers, andfriends had fallen; how all else predicted had failed; how the landhad been filled with mourning; how the State had become a desolation;how their property, wealth, had disappeared! They had been invited toa gorgeous banquet; the fruit was fair to the eye, golden andbeautiful, but it had(p. 513) turned to ashes. They had beenpromised a high place among the nations. Cotton was the king of kings;and England, France, and the whole civilized world would bow in humblesubmission to his majesty. That was the promise; but now their kingwas dethroned, their government overthrown, their President and hiscabinet vagrants. They had been promised affluence, Richmond was to bethe metropolis of the Confederacy, and Virginia the all-powerful Stateof the new nation. How terrible the cheat! Their thousand-dollar bondswere not worth a penny. A million dollars would not purchase a dinner.Their money was valueless, their slaves were freemen, the heart oftheir city was in ashes. They had been deluded in everything. Thosewhom they had most trusted had most abused their confidence; and atlast, in the most unfeeling and inhuman manner, had fired theirdwellings, destroying property they could no longer use or levy upon,thus adding arson and robbery to the already long list of theircrimes.

The people of Richmond were in despair, having no means for presentsubsistence, or to rebuild or commence business again. All theirheroism, hardship, suffering, expenditure of treasure, and sacrificeof blood had availed them nothing. There could be no comfort in theirmourning, no alleviation to their sorrow. All had been lost in anunrighteous cause, which God had not prospered, and no satisfactioncould be derived from their participation in it. For try to deceivethemselves as they might into a belief that the conflict wasunavoidable by the encroachments of the North upon the South, theycould but remember the security and peace they enjoyed in the Union,little of which they had felt or dared hope for in their Utopianscheme of slavery.

At length we reached the house from which Jeff Davis had so recentlydeparted, where General Weitzel had established his head-quarters. ThePresident entered and sat wearily down in an arm-chair which stood inthe fugitive President's reception-room. General Weitzel introducedthe officers present. Judge Campbell entered. At the beginning of thewar he was on the bench of the Supreme Court of the United States,afterwards espoused Secession, and was appointed assistant Secretaryof War under Seddon. He was tall, and looked pale,(p. 514)care-worn, agitated, and bowed very low to the President, who receivedhim with dignity, and yet cordially.

President Lincoln, accompanied by Admiral Porter, General Weitzel, andGeneral Shepley, rode through the city, escorted by a squadron ofcavalry, followed by thousands of colored people, shouting "Glory toGod!" They had seen great hardship and suffering. A few were welldressed. Some wore pants of Union blue and coats of Confederate gray.Others were in rags. The President was much affected as they crowdedaround the carriage to touch his hands, and pour out their thanks."They that walked in darkness had seen a great light." Their greatdeliverer was among them. He came not as a conqueror, not as the headof a mighty nation,—

"Not with the roll of the stirring drum,
Nor the trumpet that sings of fame,"—

but as a plain, unpretending American citizen, a representativerepublican Chief Magistrate, unheralded, almost unattended, with"malice towards none, with charity for all," as he had but a few weekspreviously proclaimed from the steps of the Capitol at Washington.

He visited Libby prison, breathed for a moment its fetid air, gazedupon the iron-grated windows and the reeking filth upon the slipperyfloors, and gave way to uncontrollable emotions.

Libby Prison! What horrors it recalls! What sighs and groans! Whatprayers and tears! What dying out of hope! What wasting away of bodyand mind! What nights of darkness settling on human souls! Its door anentrance to a living charnel-house, its iron-barred windows but theoutlook of hell! It was the Inferno of the slave Confederacy. Wellmight have been written over its portal, "All hope abandon, ye whoenter here."

Visiting the prison the next morning, I found it occupied by severalhundred Rebels, who were peering from the grated windows, lookingsadly upon the desolation around them. A large number were upon theroof, breathing the fresh air, and gazing upon the fields beyond theJames, now green with the verdure of spring. Such liberty was nevergranted Union prisoners. Whoever approached the prison bars, or laidhis hand upon them, became the victim of a Rebel bullet.

A. Lincoln.

(p. 515) There was a crowd of women with pails and buckets at thewindows, giving the prisoners provisions and talking freely with theirfriends, who came not only to the windows, but to the door, where thegood-natured sentinel allowed conversation without restraint.

The officer in charge conducted our party through the wards. The airwas saturated with vile odors, arising from the unwashed crowd,—fromold rags and dirty garments, from puddles of filthy water whichdripped through the floor, ran down the walls, sickening to all thesenses. From this prison fifteen hundred men were hurried to theflag-of-truce boat on Sunday, that they might be exchanged before theevacuation of the city. Many thousands had lived there month aftermonth, wasting away, starving, dying of fever, of consumption, of alldiseases known to medical science,—from insanity, despair,idiocy,—having no communication with the outer world, no food fromfriends, no sympathy, no compassion,—tortured to death through rigorof imprisonment, by men whose hearts grew harder from day to day bythe brutality they practised.

"Please give me a bit of bread, Aunty, I am starving," was the pleaone day of a young soldier who saw a negro woman passing the window.He thrust his emaciated hand between the bars and clutched the bitwhich she cheerfully gave him; but before it had passed between histeeth he saw the brains of his benefactress spattered upon thesidewalk by the sentinel!

Although the city was in possession of the Union forces, there weremany residents who believed that Lee would retrieve the disaster.

"I was sorry," said a citizen, "to see the Stars and Stripes torn downin 1861. It is the prettiest flag in the world, but I shed tears whenI saw it raised over the Capitol of Virginia on Sunday morning."

"Why so?" I asked.

"Because it was done without the consent of the State of Virginia."

"Then you still cling to the idea that a State is more than thenation."

"Yes; State rights above everything."

"Don't you think the war is almost over,—that it is useless for Leeto contend further?"

(p. 516) "No. He will fight another battle, and he will win. He canfight for twenty-five years in the mountains."

"Do you think that men can live in the mountains?"

"Yes; on roots and herbs, and fight you till you are weary of it, andwhip you out."

A friend called upon one of the most aristocratic families of theplace. He found that men and women alike were exceedingly bitter anddefiant. They never would yield. They would fight through ageneration, and defeat the Yankees at last.

They were proud of the Old Dominion, the mother of States and ofPresidents, proud of their ancestry, of the chivalry of Virginia, andgave free expression to their hatred.

Having heard that a brigade of colored troops had been enlisted inRichmond for the Rebel army, I made inquiries to ascertain the facts.All through the war the Rebel authorities had engaged a large numberof slaves as teamsters and laborers. The immense fortifications thrownup around Richmond, Yorktown, Petersburg, Wilmington, Charleston, andSavannah were the work of slaves. The Rebels said that slavery,instead of being a weakness, was an element of strength. Slaves builtthe fortifications and raised the corn and wheat, which enabled theConfederacy to send all of its white fighting population to the field.But the fighting material was used up. Men were wanted. An unsparingconscription failed to fill up the ranks. Then came the agitation ofthe question of employing negro soldiers.

General Lee advocated the measure. "They possess," said he, "all thephysical qualifications, and their habits of obedience constitute agood foundation for discipline. I think those who are employed shouldbe freed. It would neither be just nor wise, in my opinion, to requirethem to serve as slaves. The best course to pursue, it seems to me,would be to call for such as are willing to come,—willing to come,with the consent of their owners. An impressment or draft would not belikely to bring out the best class, and the use of coercion would makethe measure distasteful to them and to their owners."

The subject was debated in secret session in Congress, and a billenacted authorizing their employment.

A great meeting was held in the African church to "fire the(p. 517)Southern heart," and speeches were made. A recruiting-office wasopened. The newspapers spoke of the success of the movement. Regimentswere organizing.

"I fear there will soon be a great scarcity of arms when the negroesare drilled," wrote the Rebel war clerk in his diary on the 11th ofMarch; and five days later, on the 17th, "We shall have a negro army.Letters are pouring into the department from men of military skill andcharacter, asking authority to raise companies, battalions, andregiments of negro troops. It is the desperate remedy for the verydesperate case, and may be successful. If three hundred thousandefficient soldiers can be made of this material, there is noconjecturing when the next campaign may end."

A week later the colored troops had a parade in Capitol Square. Therewere so few, that the war clerk said it was "rather a ridiculousaffair."

"How many colored men enlisted?" I asked of a negro.

"'Bout fifty, I reckon, sir. Dey was mostly poor Souf Carolinadarkies,—poor heathen fellers, who didn't know no better."

"Would you have fought against the Yankees?"

"No, sir. Dey might have shot me through de body wid ninety thousandballs, before I would have fired a gun at my friends."

"Then you look upon us as your friends?"

"Yes, sir. I have prayed for you to come; and do you think that Iwould have prayed one way and fit de other?"

"I'll tell you, massa, what I would have done," said another, takingoff his hat and bowing: "I would have taken de gun, and when I cotcheda chance I'd a shooted it at de Rebs and den run for de Yankees."

This brought a general explosion from the crowd, and arrested theattention of some white men passing.

We were in the street west of the Capitol. I had but to raise my eyesto see the Stars and Stripes waving in the evening breeze. A few pacesdistant were the ruins of the Rebel War Department, from whence wereissued the orders to starve our prisoners at Belle Isle, Salisbury,and Andersonville. Not far were the walls of Dr. Reed's church, wherea specious(p. 518) Gospel had been preached, and near by was thechurch of Dr. Minnegerode. The street was full of people. I was astranger to them all, but I ventured to make this inquiry,—

"Did you ever see an Abolitionist?"

"No, massa, I reckon I neber did," was the reply.

"What kind of people do you think they are?"

"Well, massa, I specs dey is a good kind of people."

"Why do you think so?"

"'Case when I hear bad white folks swearing and cursing about 'em, Ireckon dar must be something good about 'em."

"Well, my friends, I am an Abolitionist; I believe that all men haveequal rights, and that I have no more right to make a slave of youthan you have of me."

Every hat came off in an instant. Hands were reached out toward me,and I heard from a dozen tongues a hearty "God bless you, sir!"

White men heard me and scowled. Had I uttered those words in Richmondtwenty-four hours earlier I should have had no opportunity to repeatthem, but paid for my temerity with a halter or a knife; but now thosemen who stretched out their hands to me would have given the last dropof their blood before they would have seen a hair of my head injured,after that declaration.

The slaves were the true loyal men of the South. They did what theycould to help put down the Rebellion by aiding Union prisoners toescape, by giving trustworthy information. The Stars and Stripes wastheir banner of hope. What a life they led! I met a young colored man,with features more Anglo-Saxon than African, who asked,—

"Do you think, sir, that I could obtain employment in the North?"

"What can you do?"

"Well, sir, I have been an assistant in a drug store. I can put upprescriptions. I paid forty dollars a month for my time before theConfederate money became worthless, but my master thought that I wasgoing to run away to the Yankees, and sold me awhile ago; and he wasmy own father, sir."

"Your own father?"

"Yes, sir! They often sell their own flesh and blood, sir!"

(p. 519) Among the correspondents accompanying the army was agentleman connected with the PhiladelphiaPress, Mr. Chester, tall,stout, and muscular. God had given him a colored skin, but beneath itlay a courageous heart. Visiting the Capitol, he entered the Senatechamber and sat down in the Speaker's chair to write a letter. Aparoled Rebel officer entered the room.

"Come out of there, you black cuss!" shouted the officer, clenchinghis fist.

Mr. Chester raised his eyes, calmly surveyed the intruder, and went onwith his writing.

"Get out of there, or I'll knock your brains out!" the officerbellowed, pouring out a torrent of oaths; and rushing up the steps toexecute his threat, found himself tumbling over chairs and benches,knocked down by one well-planted blow between his eyes.

Mr. Chester sat down as if nothing had happened. The Rebel sprang tohis feet and called upon Captain Hutchins of General Devens's stafffor a sword.

"I'll cut the fellow's heart out," said he.

"O no, I guess not. I can't let you have my sword for any suchpurpose. If you want to fight, I will clear a space here, and see thatyou have fair play, but let me tell you that you will get a tremendousthrashing," said Captain Hutchins.

The officer left the hall in disgust. "I thought I would exercise myrights as a belligerent," said Mr. Chester.

I ascended the steps of the Capitol and stood on the roof of thebuilding to gaze upon the panorama, hardly surpassed in beautyanywhere,—a lovely combination of city, country, valley, hill, plain,field, forest, and foaming river. The events of four years came toremembrance. First, the secession of the state on the 17th of April,1861, by the convention which sat with closed doors in the hall below,the threats of violence uttered against the Union delegates from thewestern counties, the wild tumult of the "People's Convention," socalled, in Metropolitan Hall,—a body of Jacobins assembling tobrowbeat the convention in the Capitol; and when the ordinance waspassed, the appearance of John Tyler, once President of the UnitedStates, with Governor Wise, among the fire-eaters,(p. 520) welcomedwith noisy cheers; it seemed as if I could hear the voice of Tyler ashe said that Virginia and the people of the South had submitted toaggression till secession was a duty, and that the Almighty wouldsmile upon the work of that day. They were the words of a feeble oldman, whose every official act was in the interest of slavery. Vehementthe words of Wise, who imagined that the Yankees had seized one of hischildren as a hostage for himself.

"If they suppose," said he, "that hostages of my own heart's bloodwill stay my hand in a contest for the maintenance of sacred rights,they are mistaken. Affection for kindred, property, and life itselfsink into insignificance in comparison with the overwhelmingimportance of public duty in such a crisis as this."

Mason, the lordly senator, and Governor Letcher, the drunken executiveof the State, also addressed the crazy crowd, fired to a burning heatof madness by passion and whiskey.

On that occasion the Confederate flag was raised upon the flagstaffspringing from the roof of the Capitol, although the State had notjoined the Confederacy. The people were to vote on the question, andyet the Convention had enjoined that the act of secession should bekept a secret till Norfolk Navy Yard and Harper's Ferry Arsenal couldbe seized.[98] The newspapers of Richmond had no announcement to makethe next morning that the State was no longer a member of the Union.What honorable, high-minded, "chivalrous" proceedings!

Then came the volunteers thronging the streets. Professor Jackson(Stonewall) was drilling the cadets. Three days after the passage ofthe ordinance of secession, troops were swarming in the yard aroundthe Capitol, and A. H. Stephens, Vice-President of the Confederacy,and Ex-President Tyler, and the drunken Letcher were negotiating analliance offensive and defensive between the sovereign State ofVirginia and the States already confederated to establish aslaveholding republic.

Next in order was the arrival of Jeff Davis and the perambulatinggovernment of the Confederacy, to tarry a few days in Richmond beforeproceeding to Washington. Davis and his(p. 521) followers madeboastful promises of what they could and would do, breathing outthreatenings and slaughter against the hated Yankees. Then thehurly-burly,—the rush of volunteers, the arrival of troops, welcomedwith cheers and smiles, the streets through which they passed strewnwith flowers by the ladies of Richmond. The Confederate Congress andheads of departments came,—Stephens, Toombs, Cobb, Floyd, Wigfall,Memminger, Mallory,—with thousands of place-hunters, filling the cityto overflowing, putting money into the pockets of the citizens,—notgold and silver, but Confederate currency, to be redeemed two yearsafter the ratification of the treaty of peace with the United States.Beauregard, the rising star of the South, came from Charleston, toreap fresh laurels at Manassas. Richmond was solemn on that memorableSabbath, the 21st of June, 1861, for through the forenoon the reportswere that the Yankees were winning the day; but at night, when thenews came from Davis that the "cowardly horde" was flying,panic-stricken, to Washington, how jubilant the crowd!

A year later there were pale faces, when the army of McClellan sweptthrough Williamsburg. Jeff Davis packed up his furniture, and madepreparations to leave the city. There was another fright when theRebels came back discomfited from Fair Oaks.

From the roof of the Capitol anxious eyes watched the war-cloudsrolling up from Mechanicsville and Cold Harbor. Those were mournfuldays. Long lines of ambulances, wagons, coaches, and carts, filledwith wounded, filed through the streets. How fearful the slaughter tothe Rebels in those memorable seven days' fighting! Deep themaledictions heaped upon the drunken Magruder for the carnage atMalvern Hill.

Beneath the roof on which I stood Stuart, Gregg, and StonewallJackson,—dead heroes of the Rebellion,—had reposed in state, mournedby the weeping multitude.

Before me were Libby Prison and Belle Isle. What wretchedness andsuffering there! Starvation for soldiers of the Union, within sight ofthe fertile fields of Manchester, waving with grain and alive withflocks and herds! Nearer the Capitol was the mansion of Jeff Davis,the slave-trader's jail and the slave-market. What agony and cries ofdistress within the(p. 522) hearing of the Chief Magistrate of theConfederacy, as mothers pressed their infants to their breasts for thelast time.

In front of the Capitol was the stone building erected by the UnitedStates, where for four years Jeff Davis had played the sovereign,where Benjamin, Memminger, Toombs, Mallory, Sedden, Trenholm, andBreckenridge had exercised authority, dispensing places of profit totheir friends, who came in crowds to find exemption from conscription.Beyond, and on either side, was the forest of blackened chimneys,tottering walls, and smoking ruins of the fire which had swept awaythe accumulated wealth of years in a day. How terrible theretribution! Before the war there was quiet in the city, but therecame a reign of terror, when ruffians ruled, when peaceful citizensdared not be abroad after dark. There was sorrow in every householdfor friends fallen in battle, and Poverty sat by many a hearthstone.

Hardest of all to bear was the charity of their enemies. Under theshadow of the Capitol the Christian and Sanitary Commissions weregiving bread to the needy. Standing there upon the roof I could lookdown upon a throng of men, women, and children receiving food from thekind-hearted delegates, upon whose lips were no words of bitterness,but only the song of the angels,—"Peace on earth, good-will to men!"

U. S. Christian Commission.

(p. 523) CHAPTER XXXII.
THE CONFEDERATE LOAN.

The attitude of Great Britain towards the United States during theRebellion will make a strange chapter in history. The first steamshipreturning from that country after the firing upon Fort Sumter broughtthe intelligence that the British government had recognized the Rebelsas belligerents. Mr. Adams, the newly appointed Minister to the Courtof St. James, was on his way to London, but without waiting to hearwhat representations he might have to make, the ministry with unseemlyhaste gave encouragement to the Rebels.

Palmerston, Russell, the chief dignitaries of state, and of the Churchalso, with the LondonTimes and MorningPost, espoused the causeof the slaveholders, while the weavers of Lancashire, though thrownout of employment by the blockade, gave their sympathies to the North.They were ignorant of the causes which led to hostilities. The Englishpress informed them that it was the tariff; that the people of theSouth had a right to secede; that the United States had no right torestrain them; that the South was fighting for liberty: butnotwithstanding this, the operatives, from the beginning, rangedthemselves on the side of the Union. They stood in opposition toPalmerston and the peers of the realm,—the press, the aristocracy,and the mill-owners. In this they were guided, perhaps, more byinstinct than by reason.

They knew that in the North labor was free, but that the South hadmade slavery the corner-stone of their Confederacy. Their life wasever a battle, for Labor was the slave of Capital. They knew nothingof State rights, or the rights of belligerents, or of Americantariffs, but instinct by a short road led them to the conclusion thatthe conflict was not merely national, but world-wide, and that thefreemen of the North were fighting for the rights of men everywhere.

(p. 524) The LondonTimes was foremost among the newspapers toprophesy the disruption of the Union. Its utterances were oracular. Itclaimed superior knowledge and a deeper insight of the Americanquestion than any of its contemporaries, and its opinions wereaccepted as truth by all Englishmen who approved the slaveholders'war. Ship-builders, cotton-brokers, and capitalists regulated theirfaith and works by the leading articles of that journal, and loanedtheir money to the South.

"The great republic is gone, and no serious attempt will be made bythe North to save it," wrote Mr. W. H. Russell to theTimes inApril, 1861.

"General bankruptcy is inevitable, and agrarian and socialist riotsmay be expected very soon," was the despatch of that individualimmediately after the battle of Bull Run.

The tradespeople of England believed him. The South was victor; theConfederacy was to become a nation. The agents of the South werealready in England purchasing supplies, paying liberal prices. Theyfound that Englishmen were ready to engage in any scheme ofprofit,—in running the blockade, building war-ships for theConfederate government, or selling arms and ammunition, in violationof the laws of the realm.

As a large number of letters written by Rebel agents and emissaries inEngland and France have fallen into my hands, I purpose in thischapter to give arésumé of their contents, which expose the secrethistory of the Cotton Loan.

Soon after the beginning of hostilities the Liverpool correspondent oftheTimes, Mr. James Spence, entered heartily into the support ofthe cause of the South. He was engaged in commercial pursuits, butfound leisure not only to keep up his correspondence with theTimes,but to write a book entitled the "American Union," in which headvocated the right of the South to secede, and extolled slavery as asuperior condition of life for the laboring man.

"The negroes," said he, "have at all times abundant food: thesufferings of fireless winters are unknown to them, medical attendanceis always at command; in old age there is no fear of a workhouse;their children are never a burden or a curse; their labor, thoughlong, is neither difficult nor unhealthy. As a rule, they have theirown ground and fowls and(p. 525) vegetables, of which they sell asurplus. So far, then, as merely animal comforts extend, their lot ismore free from suffering than those of many classes of Europeanlaborers."

Such sympathy with slavery received its reward in the appointment ofMr. Spence as financial agent of the Confederacy. Large sums of moneywere sent from Charleston, Savannah, and Richmond to England. Vesselsfound little difficulty in running the blockade during the first yearof the war, and Nassau became the half-way station, and thousands ofEnglishmen counted up their gains from blockade-running with glee.Societies were formed in London and other principal cities, called"Confederate Aid Associations."

An address to the British public was issued, setting forth thebarbarism of the North against the South, struggling for her rights.

(p. 526) The address was issued by Englishmen, had a wide circulation,and undoubtedly was accepted as a true representation of affairs.

Then Whittier sent his stinging words, "To Englishmen," across theAtlantic:—

The Trent affair had inflamed the British public, and Rebelsympathizers were fierce for war, that the South might reap theadvantage; but Mason and Slidell had been given up by PresidentLincoln, and Mr. Mason stood hat in hand at the gate of St. James. ButEarl Russell could not conveniently see him just then. Lancashire hadspoken. Men upon whose humble hearths no fire warmed the wintry air,in whose homes poverty was ever a guest, around whose doors the wolfof want was always prowling,—the bone and muscle of England, withwhom the instinct of Liberty was stronger to persuade than distressand famine to subdue,—they, the hardy workers of England, were withthe North.

At home, in the valley of the Shenandoah, Mr. Mason had been aVirginia lord. It was his nature to be proud, imperious, and haughty.He lived in the greatness of an ancient family name. He expected readyadmittance at St. James; but though he rang the bell early and often,and sent in his card, Earl Russell was not "at home" to him.

He was ready to turn away in disgust, but the wants of the(p. 527)Confederacy compelled him to submit to whatever humiliation EarlRussell might choose to administer. He told his griefs to Mr.Benjamin, the Confederate Secretary of State, and received condolence.

Englishmen wanted to see the great republic broken to pieces, butthere were repulsive features in that system of civilization which theSouth was attempting to establish. The Union dead were mangled atManassas; their bones were carved into charms and amulets. Among themountains of Tennessee old men were dragged from their beds atmidnight, and hung without judge or jury, because they loved the flagof their country. In Missouri bridges were burned at night, and men,women, and children upon railroad trains were precipitated intoyawning gulfs by their neighbors! This was the work of the "masterrace," too "refined," "chivalric," and "gentlemanly" to associate withthe laboring men of the North. Were the workingmen of Old England anymore worthy than they of New England to associate with theslave-masters of the South? British operatives and mechanicsunderstood the question,—that it was a conflict between two systemsof labor,—and they rejected with disdain all overtures from theSouth.

The intervention of England and France was necessary to insure thesuccess of the Rebel cause, and English and European(p. 528) publicsentiment must be brought round to the Southern side by the power ofthe press. Mr. Edwin De Leon therefore was made an agent of theConfederacy to subsidize the press of Europe. The wires were pulled byMr. Benjamin, who wrote thus to Mr. De Leon:—

"I will take measures to forward you additional means to enable you to extend the field of your operations, and to embrace, if possible, the press of Central Europe in your campaign. Austria and Prussia, as well as the smaller Germanic powers, seem to require intelligence of the true condition of our affairs, and the nature of our struggle; and it is to be hoped that you may find means to act with efficiency in moulding public opinion in those countries."[100]

That this scheme of bribery was successful will appear further on. TheBritish government having with precipitate haste recognized the Rebelsas belligerents, English merchants were quick to follow in the trackof Palmerston and Russell. Merchants, bankers, admirals of the navy,officers of the army, speculators, spendthrifts, adventurers from theslums and stews of London and Liverpool, in common with members ofParliament and peers of the realm, engaged in blockade-running, notonly to enrich themselves, but to aid in establishing a governmentbased on human slavery. The agents of the Confederacy in England foundhearty welcome from all classes, especially the ship-builders.

Captain Winslow and the Kearsarge.

Soon after the attack upon Sumter Mr. Mallory, Secretary of theConfederate Navy, sent Captain Bullock of Savannah to England, toengage ship-builders to fit out privateers. He found W. C. Miller &Son of Liverpool, and the Lairds of Birkenhead, ready to engage in thework of destroying American commerce. He contracted with the first forthe building of the Oreto, or Florida, and with the Lairds for the"290," or Alabama. He also found warm welcome from Roebuck, Gregory,and other members of Parliament, and from capitalists, who subscribedliberally in aid of the enterprise.

Admiral Farragut.

Funds were needed for the payment of Rebel debts in England, and theConfederate Congress passed a bill in April, 1862, authorizing theexchange of bonds for articles in kind,(p. 529) and Mr. Benjaminthereupon wrote to Mr. Mason, advising him of the financialarrangements which had been made.

"At your suggestion," said Mr. Benjamin, "I have appointed Mr. James Spence of Liverpool financial agent, and have requested him to negotiate for the sale of five million dollars of our eight per cent bonds, if he can realize fifty per cent on them. I have already sent over two millions of bonds, and will send another million in a week or ten days. Mr. Spence is directed to confer with Messrs. Fraser, Trenholm & Co. who had previously been made our depositaries at Liverpool.... I have also directed Mr. Spence to endeavor to negotiate for the application of two and a half millions of coin, which I have here, for the purchase of supplies and munitions for our army. I hope that this coin will be accepted by British houses in payment at the rate of sterling in England, less freight and insurance. It seems to me that upon its transfer to British owners, they could obtain transportation for it on their vessels of war from any Confederate port, inasmuch as it would bebona fide British property, and in any event the holder of the transfer would have a certain security."[101]

This scheme of an alliance between British naval officers and theRebel government was carried out, and a portion of the coin shipped ina British man-of-war, the Vesuvius, from Bahama, by the Englishconsul.[102]

The bonds referred to by Mr. Benjamin were the regularly issued bondsof the Confederacy. Cotton certificates were also issued; but inaddition to these means, the Rebel government deemed it advisable tobring out a loan based exclusively on cotton.

The proposition came from Mr. Slidell, who was in Paris, envoy to theCourt of France, but who, instead of attending the receptions of theEmperor at the Tuileries, was endeavoring to obtain social andpolitical recognition by giving luxurious entertainments. Napoleon wasready to recognize the Confederacy, but Palmerston and Russellhesitated, and he was not quite prepared to move alone in the matter.

He was anxious to see the great republic broken up, not that heparticularly desired the establishment of the Confederacy, but forthe furtherance of his own designs in Mexico.(p. 530) Whileprofessing to Mr. Slidell good-will, and a readiness to givesubstantial aid to the Rebellion, his agents, M. de Saligny, Frenchminister in Mexico, M. Théron, French consul at Galveston, and M.Tabouelle, French vice-consul at Richmond, were intriguing todismember Texas from the Confederacy.

"The Emperor of the French," wrote Mr. Benjamin to Mr. Slidell, "hasdetermined to conquer and hold Mexico as a colony, and is desirous ofinterposing a weak power between his new colony and the ConfederateStates, in order that he may feel secure against interference with hisdesigns on Mexico.... The evidence thus afforded of a disposition onthe part of France to seize on this crisis of our fate as her occasionfor the promotion of selfish interests, and this too after theassurances of friendly disposition, or, at worst, impartialneutrality, which you have received from the leading public men ofFrance, cannot but awaken solicitude."[103]

The French consuls at Galveston and Richmond were dismissed by JeffDavis, but that did not outwardly ruffle the temper of the Emperor,nor stop the cotton loan, as will presently be seen. The Rebelcongressmen looked upon Slidell's scheme with distrust, but the billwas eventually passed in secret session. The finances of theConfederacy were going to wreck. There were heavy debts in Europe,and, unless the bills were promptly paid, there would be an end ofsupplies. England was suffering for cotton, and the time had come forthe successful negotiation of a loan, based on cotton, with greatapparent advantages to the subscribers. The mill-owners of Manchesterwere ready to enter upon any speculation which would start theirmachinery; the aristocracy would subscribe out of sympathy for theslaveholders; the Liverpool shippers would take stock, as it wouldgive employment to their blockade-runners; while the unusual risks andgreat chances of profit would make it attractive to the multitude withwhom the Derby is the whitest day of the year.

Mr. Slidell had made the acquaintance of Baron Ermile d'Erlanger ofParis, a Jewish banker, who had a branch house in Frankfort conductedby his brother, Raphael d'Erlanger.(p. 531) This firm was recommendedby Slidell as a suitable agency for bringing out the loan, and thecontract was given them by Mr. Memminger. D'Erlanger beganpreparations for putting it on the market in February, 1863. Hedesired to issue it in England, France, Holland, and Germany at thesame time, to bring to the Confederacy the financial support ofEurope. The considerations were political as well as financial. Hefound some difficulty, however, in obtaining English agents. TheBarings and Rothschilds stood aloof. He offered the London managementto Messrs. John H. Gilliat & Co., but that firm declined havinganything to do with it. It was offered to other bankers, but refused.He found willing agents at last in Messrs. John Henry Schroeder & Co.,and the firm of Messrs. Lawrence, Son, and Pearce. In LiverpoolMessrs. Frazer, Trenholm, & Co. had been acting as agents of theConfederacy, and the management was placed in their hands. Schroeder'sagents in Amsterdam managed it there, while D'Erlanger's branch housein Frankfort brought it out in that city. D'Erlanger himselfmanipulated it in Paris.

D'Erlanger and Mr. Beer, of his firm, visited England, and arrangedmatters with Mason and Spence, and with Frazer, Trenholm, & Co., allof whom were acting as agents of the Confederacy. A special agent hadbeen appointed by the Rebel government to take charge of theloan,—General C. J. McRae,—who was on his way from Richmond toParis; but as the needs of the Confederacy were urgent, the loan wasopened before his arrival.

The support of the press was secured,—all but two or three papersbeing brought, through the agency of Mr. De Leon, Mr. Mason, and Mr.Spence, to praise the Confederacy, cry down the Union, and urgerecognition by France and England as the surest way to put an end tothe war.

The correspondence in my possession between the parties opens on the1st of March. Mr. Spence, sitting in his parlor in the BurlingtonHotel, Old Burlington Street, London, writes to Baron d'Erlanger, whois in Paris, asking for a copy of the contract.

D'Erlanger did not place a very high estimate on the ability of Mr.Spence as a financial manager; but as he was the correspondent(p. 532) of theTimes, and commercial agent of the Confederacy,thought best not to offend him. Spence, on the other hand, saw anopportunity to make money. A week later, on the 6th of March, he wrotethus to D'Erlanger:—

"You said something in the last interview of £50,000 of the stock. If it had occurred to you to put down to me that quantity at the gross price of seventy-seven, I should be disposed to consider it, looking to the advantage to all concerned of having a common interest."

As the loan was issued at 90, this proposal of Mr. Spence to take itat 77,—giving him a margin of 13 per cent under the contractprice,—was, in the language of bankers, "a shave" for his services ascorrespondent of theTimes,—a transaction upon which more lightwill be thrown further on in this history.

The loan was put upon the market on the 19th of March. Fifteen percent was to be paid at the time of subscribing. The stock was limitedto three million pounds sterling ($15,000,000); but so desirous wereEnglishmen to take it, the applications were for £9,000,000($45,000,000).

On the evening of the 19th Mr. Spence wrote to D'Erlanger of itssuccess in Liverpool:—

"All goes well here. The cotton trade take it up with strong interest, and it will come out for large sums. I applied very early for £20,000, and thought I should have been first, but found P—-- was before me, with his £100,000. You will have a lot of applications in London from the storgs,—that is, those who join to sell at the premium. Here we have no class of that kind, and our applicants, as in Manchester, being morebona fide, will, as a rule, take a day or two to digest its merits. The market closed here at 4-1/4,—quite high enough for the first day."

On the next day, the 20th, Mr. Spence writes:—

"We shall very much exceed a million here, I think, by noon to-morrow. The political effect will be enormous. It is the recognition of the South by the intelligence of Europe."

On the 21st, congratulations were received by D'Erlanger from Slidell,who was in London.

"Allow me to congratulate you," said he, "on yourmagnific success.Apart from the direct advantages of the affair, it cannot fail togive great prestige to your house."

(p. 533) "The Emperor himself, through the medium of his Chef deCabinet," wrote D'Erlanger to Memminger, "complimented us upon thegreat success; a proof with what interest the operation had beenreceived by all friends of the South."

Notwithstanding the "intelligence of Europe" had rushed to secure it,bankers of respectability—men who prized honor and integrity abovepounds and pence—stood aloof, for they remembered that Mr. JeffersonDavis, President of the slaveholding Confederacy, was a repudiator. Noallegation against him had been made through the press, but theTimes came to the rescue before the attack. On the 19th, the day onwhich the loan was issued, Mr. Sampson, editor of the city article,said:—

"Those among the English people who are still suffering from Mississippi repudiation will perhaps view with wonder and regret the negotiation of a loan for a government of which Mr. Jefferson Davis, by whom that repudiation was defended in his place in Congress, is the head. But the Southern Confederacy includes Virginia, Georgia, and other honorable States, and it is by the prospect of what the Confederacy will do as a whole that people will make their calculation. The reasoning that would exclude the South from a loan on account of the conduct of Mississippi, would apply equally to the North, since the North embraces Michigan. It would also have applied to the United States loans negotiated while Mississippi was a State of the Union, and especially while Mr. Jefferson Davis was an influential member of the Federal government, and regarded with high favor by all the Northern population, by whom the remarks of theTimes on his financial views were then declared to be nothing but the outpourings of British rancor."[104]

Turning to theTimes of July 13th, of 1849, we find a letter writtenby Jeff Davis, copied from the WashingtonUnion, in which therepudiator says:—

"The crocodile tears which have been shed over ruined creditors are on a par with the lawless denunciations which have been heaped upon that State."

To this theTimes replied:—

"Taking its principles and its tone together, it is a doctrine which has never been paralleled. Let it circulate throughout Europe, that a(p. 534) member of the United States Senate in 1849 has openly proclaimed that at a recent period the Governor and Legislative assemblies of his own State deliberately issued fraudulent bonds for five million dollars to sustain the credit of a rickety bank, that the bonds in question having been hypothecated abroad to innocent holders, such holders have not only no claim against the community by whose Executive and Representatives this act was committed, but that they are to be taunted for appealing to the verdict of the civilized world, rather than to the judgment of the legal officers of the State by whose functionaries they have been robbed, and that the ruin of toil-worn men, of women and of children, and the crocodile tears which that ruin has occasioned, is a subject of jest on the part of those by whom it has been accomplished, and then let it be asked if any foreigner ever penned a libel on the American character equal to that against the people of Mississippi by their own Senator."[105]

Mr. Davis published a rejoinder, dated at Briarfield, Miss., August29, 1849, addressed to the editor of theMississippian. "It is aforeigner's slander," said he, "against the government, the judiciary,and the people of the Mississippi. It is an attack upon our republicangovernment, the hypocritical cant of stock-jobbers and pensionedpresses,—by the hired advocates of theinnocent stock dealers ofLondon change. It is a calumnious imputation."

The State of Mississippi had obtained the money in London on thesolemn pledge of the faith of the State, and loaned it to thecitizens; but the State had broken its pledge, repudiated the debt,and Mr. Jeff Davis eulogized the proceeding! The courts of the Statedecreed in 1842 that the debt was valid, and the decision wasreaffirmed in 1853. Jeff Davis was then Secretary of War, and throughhis efforts and influence the State continued to repudiate the claimsof the British bondholders. In 1863 Mississippi was indebted toEnglishmen not only for the principal, $5,000,000, but for twenty-fiveyears of unpaid interest; yet, notwithstanding this, theTimes,eating its words of other days, came before the English people with acertificate of character for the repudiator, also publishing one fromSlidell. "I am inclined to think," wrote Slidell, "that the people inLondon confound Mr. Reuben Davis, whom I(p. 535) have alwaysunderstood to have taken the lead on the question of repudiation, withPresident Jefferson Davis. I am not aware that the latter was everidentified with the question."

TheTimes, commenting upon Slidell's letter, said:—

It was necessary, for the success of the loan, to show that the Southwas sure of obtaining its independence, and while the editor of thecity article was whitewashing Jeff Davis, the editor in chief wasassuring the public that the Union was forever broken up.

Thus wrote Mr. Delaine, the editor in chief, on the 19th:—

"So far as it is concerned, the once United States are a mere heap of loose materials, a caldron of molten stuff, ready to receive whatever form fortune may determine. In that vastmêlée are two centres, which severally strive to give law and order to the whole. At(p. 536) Washington a body of men, not without courage, ability, and enterprise, are laboring, not to restore the Union,—they might as well try to restore the Heptarchy,—but to reconquer what has been lost, and, let the worst come to worst, to establish a military power."

On the 27th another leader was given to American affairs. Said theeditor:—

"As to the final issue of the war, all the world, except some politicians, soldiers, and contractors at Washington and New York, have made up their minds, ... excepting a few disappointed gentlemen of Republican tendencies, we all expect, we nearly all wish, success to the Confederate cause."

And again, on the 28th:—

"There was room enough for two states on one continent, could the Americans but have believed it. We do not affect to be surprised at the course they have taken. It was natural that a blow should be struck for the Union; but all Europe has long seen that the Union could never be restored."

That men act from motives is a fundamental truth of moral philosophy.Why theTimes gave such earnest advocacy to the slaveholders may beinferred from what follows. Opening now the correspondence ofD'Erlanger with the Rebel Secretary of the Treasury, we read, underdate of June 6, 1863:—

"A great margin had to be given to interest the newspapers, paycommissions, and captivate the opinions of those who treated the loanand its support as a question of profit and loss."

And further on, in the same letter:—

"Thanks to great pecuniary sacrifices made,AND THE SUPPORT OF ALLTHE NEWSPAPERS, the subscriptions for the loan surpassed our ownexpectations. It reached five times the amount of the loan, andsuccess made everybody friends."

At a later date, J. Henry Schroeder & Co., in a note marked "private,"writes to D'Erlanger:—

"For the advertisements in theTimes, through Mr. Sampson, and lateron in theIndex, concerning the payment of the coupons,we shall dothe needful."

Thus we learn, from the statement of D'Erlanger, that theTimes,upon which John Bull pins his faith, was not only by sympathy, butthrough interest, the advocate of the loan and(p. 537) of theslave-lords' Confederacy. Its financial articles and its leaders werewritten to the order of D'Erlanger. By the aid of theTimes, aParisian Jew, taking advantage of the sympathy expressed for the Southby lords, members of Parliament, bankers, business men, andadventurers, and of the general gullibility of the British public, wasable to secure a subscription of forty-five million dollars,—orthirty million in excess of the loan! On page 532 we have seen thatthe Liverpool correspondent of theTimes had been quieted by acommission of £6,500 ($30,000), not for services rendered, but tosecure his interest, as explained in D'Erlanger's letter to Memminger,written on the 8th of July, 1863. The banker says:—

"When our loan contract was coming back from America, this gentleman [Mr. Spence] wanted to interfere in the matter, by all means, and claimed a partnership to the contract of one sixth, under the pretence that he was the financial agent of the Confederate government in England, and that our making the loan had put him out of business which he might otherwise have transacted for the South. We knew that Mr. Spence wrote frequently for theTimes, that as a public writer he could do a great deal of harm if not any good. We succeeded in escaping his intrusion, and when I had made arrangements to bring out the loan in England, I followed his invitation to arrange matters with him in Liverpool, and went down there myself. I gave him £50,000 of the loan at seventy-seven, taking them back at ninety, which gave him a commission as profit of £6,500."

These extracts from D'Erlanger's correspondence will serve to show theAmerican people that the LondonTimes was in the service and pay ofJeff Davis during the Rebellion.

On the evening of the 23d Lord Campbell called up the Americanquestion in Parliament, making a speech in favor of recognizing theConfederacy. He spoke of the remarkable success of the loan as a proofthat the English public were ready to aid the South. The loan beingthus bolstered up rose to four and a half per cent premium.

Mr. McRae having arrived in France, there was a meeting ofdistinguished Rebels in Paris on the 4th of June, at D'Erlanger'sbanking-house. Mason, Slidell, and L. J. C. Lamar, who had beenpurchasing supplies in London for the Confederacy,—and McRae werepresent. The object of the meeting(p. 538) was to consider thefinancial condition of the Confederate government in Europe. Theindebtedness of the Confederacy abroad, for cannon, arms, ships, andsupplies, at that time, was put down at £1,741,000 ($8,705,000). "Atthe same time," reads the correspondence, "Ermile d'Erlanger & Co.furnished the meeting with a full statement concerning the loan.According to which, £1,850,000 ($9,250,000) of the loan is incirculation; a part of which is full paid, having been subscribed forby the creditors of the government."

The balance of £1,150,000 was in the hands of D'Erlanger for disposal.In a letter written two days later, on the 6th, by D'Erlanger toMemminger, we learn how there happened to be so large an amount of thestock on hand. Unfavorable news from America caused a feeling ofuneasiness, and speculative holders began to sell at depreciatedrates.

"An arrangement," says D'Erlanger, "was thereupon entered into withMr. Mason, and heartily approved by Mr. Slidell, which enabled us tobuy for the government £1,000,000 of the stock; but so eager was thespeculation, that this did not suffice, and the sum had to be extendedto £1,500,000. This operation had its effect, and better tidingshelped the market."

Upon this amount purchased by D'Erlanger to sustain the price of theloan, 35 per cent had been paid in by the subscribers.

"We would not," writes the banker, "have recommended the course ofbuying back part of the loan for the government, but for its peculiarcharacter. The first Confederate loan was as much a political as acommercial transaction, and we have done everything that it may beregarded in both ways.... We, as well as our friends Messrs.Schroeder, are happy to have been able to lend our names and credit tothe first financial operation of the South."

On the 13th of June McRae wrote to D'Erlanger a sharp letter, charginghim with "unauthorized proceedings." D'Erlanger was playing a goodgame for himself.

"These important modifications of the contract," wrote McRae, "havein every case inured to the benefit of the contractors."

D'Erlanger replied on the same day, saying, "The operation(p. 539)[the repurchase of the stock] was not conducted on any selfish ground,but for the political feeling attached to the loan." It made nodifference to D'Erlanger whether he bought or sold on governmentaccount, so long as he received his commissions. He objected, however,to receiving the full amount of his commission in bonds; he must havepart cash.

"We should," wrote he, "be under too heavy an outlay if we had to takethe £150,000 commission in bonds." This commission, therefore, up tothe 15th of June, 1863, had reached the nice little sum of $750,000!

D'Erlanger having disposed of the stock to good advantage, was anxiousto bring out a second loan on the same terms. In a letter written toMemminger on the 8th of July we discover what those terms were.

"We are ready," said he, "to make a new loan contract, taking exactlythe terms of the old contract, and engaging to divide with thegovernment the profits to be realized, between the rate of 77 and theissue price."

The loan then on the market was issued at 90, which gave D'Erlanger acommission of 6-1/2 per cent,—a portion of which doubtless went intothe pocket of Slidell. D'Erlanger was fearful that the success of theloan would bring proposals from other banking-houses. "We wish," saidhe, "that the circumstance of our names being the first connected witha large financial transaction for the government in Europe shall tellin our favor, and that a preference shall be granted to us, which weare quite ready to merit, by making better terms to the governmentthan any other respectable house may offer."

This proposition was indorsed by McRae, who the following weekaccompanied D'Erlanger to Rippaldson, where "a charming company" hadgathered, and "an agreeable week was passed in the society of MadameCaroline and Miss Theresa." McRae, in a letter written on the 17th,urges a new loan, but the news from Gettysburg and Vicksburg had"lessened the appetite," and we hear no more of the proposition for asecond loan.

At a later date, in December, the correspondence is in regard to thepurchase of boats for the government, in which the Paris banker takesthe part of Shylock:—

(p. 540)"Well then, it now appears you need my help:
Go to then; you come to me, and you say,
Shylock, we would have moneys."

McRae wanted £200,000 on government account, and applied toD'Erlanger, whose terms will be seen from the following extract fromMcRae's letter:—

"Your proposition amounts to this: That the government should pay 100 per cent for the use of £200,000, for probably less than six months, with no risk on the part of the lenders, as the £650,000 of bonds deposited, and the lien on the boats purchased with the sum lent, would protect them against loss in any event. My proposition was to pay 33-1/3 for £200,000, for a period of probably ten or twelve months. This I considered sufficiently favorable for the lenders, as they would have been secured by the deposit of £333,333 of bonds, and a lien on the boats."

The American people, doubtless, care very little who among Rebelagents and manipulators of the loan, or who of the bondholders, madeor lost money, and I pass over the details of the interestingcorrespondence. That D'Erlanger managed it shrewdly for his ownbenefit is very evident. He charged interest, commission, and exchangeon all the stock passing through his hands. In the transaction£140,000, raised from the sale of bonds, was set aside as "cautionmoney" by Mason and Slidell, who wished, for political considerations,to keep the stock at par. D'Erlanger charged commission on therepurchase of this stock, although he held it in his own name, andreceived interest on the same! McRae was not then in Europe, but uponarriving he refused to ratify the act of Mason and Slidell, but made aproposition to D'Erlanger that the banker should place £704,000 ofunsold stock. It is not stated what commission he was to receive. Theagreement was verbal, and D'Erlanger was to forfeit £140,000 if thestock was not placed at the end of six months. The months rolled away,and the stock was not placed, and D'Erlanger, instead of paying hisforfeiture, held on to the £140,000 of caution money, and helpedhimself to the interest from government funds in his hands! McRae hadno redress except to appeal to Memminger. D'Erlanger wrote a honeyedletter to the Rebel Secretary of Treasury, and offered to"compromise"(p. 541) by giving up one half! McRae finally acceptedterms from D'Erlanger; what they were is not stated, but McRae writesa doleful letter to the banker, saying that he is afraid Memminger andDavis will censure him. D'Erlanger seems to have wound McRae round hisfinger at will.

Schroeder & Co. were in the "ring" with D'Erlanger, and receivedcommission and brokerage on the entire amount of the loan, £3,000,000.D'Erlanger, Schroeder, and McRae each took £50,000 of stock in the"Franco-English Steam Navigation Company," which was to bring outcotton on government account. D'Erlanger fixed the date of issuing thebonds, and thus brought advantage to himself. Among the payments madethrough Mr. Mason were £55,000 to Captain Crenshaw, £26,000 to CaptainNorth, £38,000 to Captain Maury, £31,000 to Captain Bullock and Mr.Spence. A portion of these sums went into the hands of the Lairds forthe rams which they were building. Isaac Campbell & Co. received£515,000 ($2,575,000). This firm took £150,000 of the loan. Bonds tothe amount of £117,000 were converted into cotton. It appears thatD'Erlanger endeavored to sweep these into his drag-net, and obtaincommission and brokerage wholly unauthorized.

Since the close of the war the British holders of the loan have calledupon D'Erlanger for an account of his operations, but can obtain nosatisfaction. They have despatched an agent to the United States,appealing to the magnanimity of the Federal government for anadjustment and payment of their claims! Such insolent audacity hasbeen promptly rebuked by Mr. Seward. Marvellous their stupidity andeffrontery,—to ask pay for the coals on which they sought to roastus, for the rope that was to strangle the young giant of the West,whose growth they had beheld with alarm, and whose power they feared!As is evident from the correspondence in my possession, the wholescheme was well contrived and manipulated by Slidell and D'Erlangerfor the benefit of themselves, and also of Campbell & Co., Schroeder &Co., Spence, the Lairds, and McRae, who, by the aid of the LondonTimes, and "all thepapers," were able to fleece the Englisharistocracy out of fifteen million dollars.

(p. 542) From mercenary motives they enlisted in the cause of slaveryto destroy a friendly republican government. They had persistentlyasserted that a constitutional democracy like ours must ultimatelyfail to secure the rights and liberties of the people,—that internalwar would crumble it into ruins like the ancient republics; and nowthey thought the fulfilment of their prophecy so near at hand it wasunnecessary longer to disguise their hatred, and openly gave their"aid and comfort" to the enemy, jeering at our efforts and denouncingour measures to maintain our existence among the nations. Theyventured their money on the doubtful issue and lost, and now solugubriously bewail their folly as to make themselves ridiculous inthe eyes of the world, and the laughing-stock of the American people.

Patriot orphan home, flushing, L. I.

(p. 543) CHAPTER XXXIII.
SURRENDER OF LEE.

At three o'clock Monday morning, April 3d, Wilcox's division of theNinth Corps entered Petersburg just in season to see the rear guard ofLee's army disappear over the hills on the north bank of theAppomattox, having burned the bridges and destroyed all the supplieswhich could not be transported. Lee's army was divided,—Longstreet,Pickett, and Johnson being south of the stream, fifteen miles west ofthe city. Gordon, Mahone, Ewell, and Elzy, with the immense trains ofsupplies and batteries from Richmond, were north of the river,—allmoving southwest, towards Danville, with the intention of joiningJohnston in North Carolina.

"Good by, boys," said the women of Petersburg, some sorrowfully;others more joyful cried, "We'll drink pure coffee, with sugar in it,to-morrow. No more hard times."[107] They were weary of war. Thetroops passed through the town in silence and dejection. It was asorrowful march. The successive disasters of Sunday, the suddenbreaking up, the destruction of property, the scenes of the night,soon had their effect upon the spirits of the army. Soldiers slippedfrom the ranks, disappeared in the woods, and threw away theirmuskets, sick at heart, and disgusted with war. Virginia soldiers hadlittle inclination to abandon the Old Dominion and fight in NorthCarolina. They were State-rights men,—each State for itself. IfSecession could cut loose from the Union, why not from theConfederacy?

Before noon the troops moving from Petersburg, and those retreatingfrom Richmond, with all the baggage-trains and flying citizens, cametogether on the Chesterfield road, producing confusion and delay. HadLee thrown his supply trains upon(p. 544) the Lynchburg road, andmade a day's march farther west with his army, instead of taking thenearest road to Danville, he probably would have escaped; but hisprogress was very slow. The roads were soft, the wagons overloaded.The stalling of a single horse in the advance delayed the whole army.

The teamsters were quite as unwilling to go south as the soldiers.They were expecting every moment to hear the ringing shouts ofSheridan's men charging upon their flank or rear. There were frequentpanics, which set them into a fever of excitement, and added to theconfusion.

Grant determined to prevent Lee's escape if possible. The Ninth Corpswas detailed to hold the town, guard the railroad, reconstruct it, andfollow the other corps as a reserve. The Second, Fifth, and SixthCorps, instead of crossing the river were sent upon the double-quickalong the road which runs between the Appomattox and the South SideRailroad.

Ord, with the divisions of the Twenty-Fourth and Twenty-Fifth Corps,marched for Burkesville Junction. Sheridan, being in advance with thecavalry, reached Jettersville, on the Richmond and Danville road,forty-four miles from Richmond, on the 4th, tore up the track,intrenched his position, and waited for the infantry. Meade joined himon the morning of the 5th, while Ord, by a forced march, reachedBurkesville, south of Sheridan.

Lee crossed the Appomattox at Clemenstown, moved southwest to AmeliaCourt-House, where he was joined by Longstreet's, Pickett's, andJohnson's troops. The Appomattox has its rise in Prince Edward county,runs northeast, approaching within fifteen miles of the James, thenturns southeast, and joins the James at Petersburg.

Surrender of General Lee.

The bridge at Clemenstown, on which Lee crossed was narrow and unsafe,and the army was much hindered. Had he not crossed at all, but marchedround the bend instead, he might have slipped past Sheridan while thatofficer was waiting at Jettersville for Meade to join him. On the 5thMeade, finding that he was ahead of Lee, instead of marching west,turned northeast, and swept up the railroad toward Amelia, with theFifth Corps on the right, the Second in the centre, and the Sixth onthe left with the cavalry. Lee, seeing that he could(p. 545) not godown the railroad, instead of marching southwest, as he had done theday before, moved directly west, to give Meade the slip if possible.He abandoned wagons, caissons, and forage, and everything that impededhis march.

The Rebels had reached their Bull Run. The trains from Richmond werecrossing the bridge when a panic set in. "While we were gazing," saysa Rebel writer, "at the wagons moving up from the bridge and enteringthe road leading to the Court-House, our ears caught the sound of fiveor six shots in succession; and, looking in the direction whence thesound came, we perceived two or three horsemen emerge from a woodabout half a mile distant, and as quickly retire. We could not discerntheir uniform, but the supposition was, of course, that they were apart of Sheridan's cavalry. There was a slight confusion at the headof the train, and then a halt. 'The Yankees! Sheridan!' As the cryechoed from man to man, the teamsters began to turn their mulestowards the river, many involving themselves with those in their rear,while others dismounted and sought the nearest wood. In five minutesthe scene had been changed from quiet to the utmost disorder. Thewagons were turned back with astonishing rapidity, each teamsterunmercifully lashing his jaded animals, as anxious to reach the otherside as an hour before he had been to get to this. The cavalry, whohad been scattered over the fields cooking or eating their breakfasts,now caught the alarm, and leaving their rations grasped their bridles,mounted, and spurred their horses towards the bridge. For this pointall were aiming, and the foot-sore infantry now seemed to have but apoor chance of life in the road now jammed with wagons, mules, andmounted men. The narrow defile, bounded on either side by tall rocks,was filled with horses, wagons, and men, all unable to advance a foottoward the desired point.... Upon the other side (north) the panic waseven greater, the rumor prevailing that five hundred Yankees were inour front, and that a large number of our wagons had been captured andburned. Vainly plunging their sharp spurs into the steaming flanks ofthe poor mules, and still unable to make them trot through the mud andup the steep hills, the teamsters cut loose the traces, andremounting would gallop away,(p. 546) flourishing their long whips,yelling, and urging their horses to the utmost speed. Forsaking theroad, they leaped the fences, thronged the fields, and sought the woodfor hiding-places.... Scores of broken-down and wrecked wagons andambulances were overturned and abandoned, their contents being strewedover the road; corn and oats, meal and flour covered the ground, whilequartermaster's papers were scattered in every direction. Clothing andeven medicinal stores had been in like manner thrown away."[108]

When General Meade discovered Lee's new movement, he wheeled towardthe left, and faced the Second and Fifth Corps northwest. The FifthCorps moved up to Painesville, which is northwest of Amelia; butGriffin, commanding, was too late to strike Lee, whose rear-guard hadpassed that point. The Second Corps moved through Deatonville, whichis five miles west of Jettersville, while the Sixth Corps, movingsouthwest, came upon the Rebels on Little Sailor's Creek, a smalltributary of the Appomattox, running north. The Twenty-Fourth Corpsmeanwhile, marching from Burkesville up the railroad, joined the SixthCorps at the head of the creek.

Early in the morning of the 6th General Ord directed that thePetersburg and Lynchburg Railroad bridge across the Appomattox beseized and held if possible; if not able to hold it, the troops wereto destroy it. The Fifty-Fourth Pennsylvania and One Hundred andTwenty-Third Ohio were sent to do the work. They moved toward theriver, but suddenly found themselves on the right flank of Lee's army,which, was in line of battle, between Sailor's Creek and theAppomattox.

Lee made a stand at this point to save his trains. He was still hopingto reach Danville. If he could fight a successful battle, his wagonswould have time to slip away from Sheridan. He had already been forcedten miles out of his direct line of march, and if he failed here hemust give up all expectation of reaching Danville, and strike westtowards Lynchburg.

His army stood on the west bank of Sailors' Creek, facing east andsoutheast, behind intrenchments, with the Appomattox, which here runsnortheast, behind him.

(p. 547) Walking along the Union lines we see that the Fifth Corps isnot yet up from its longdétour north toward Painesville, but theSecond Corps is approaching the creek four miles above its junctionwith the Appomattox. One division of cavalry is on its right flank,reaching down to the river. The Sixth Corps is on the left of theSecond, facing west. There is a break in the line as we go towardsOrd's command, which is near Burkesville, facing northwest, withSheridan's cavalry on both flanks.

The forenoon was passed in skirmishing on the part of the Uniontroops. The regiments sent to seize the bridge were not able toaccomplish the task, and were driven with severe loss. But now theSecond Corps came up, a foothold was gained across the creek, andLee's left flank was forced towards the river.

It was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon before the Sixth Corpscame up with the Rebels. This corps had been marching southwest; butwhen the skirmishers discovered the enemy, Wright halted Seymour'sdivision, which was in advance, faced it west, while Wheaton'sdivision filed past Seymour's and took position on the left. The thirddivision was in reserve. The cavalry was on the left of Wheaton.Sheridan found himself confronted by Ewell's and Kershaw's divisions,which were strongly intrenched.

Seymour and Wheaton moved from the road west, went down the steepdeclivity into the ravine, receiving the fire of the Rebels withoutflinching, crossed the creek, ascended the other bank, and dashed uponthe intrenchments. At the same moment Custar's division of cavalryadvanced with sabres drawn, their horses upon the run, goaded withspur and quickened by shout, till they caught the wild enthusiasm oftheir riders, and horses and men unitedly became as fiery Centaurs,the earth trembling beneath the tread of the thousands of hoofs, theair resounding with bugle-blasts and thrilling cheers!

The charge of this division was heroic. The Rebel artillery openedwith shells, followed by canister. The infantry, protected bybreastworks, were able to give a galling fire, but the squadrons swepteverything before them, leaping the intrenchments, sabring all whoresisted, crushing the whole of Lee's(p. 548) right wing by a singleblow, gathering up thousands of prisoners, who stood as if paralyzedby the tremendous shock.

Entire regiments threw down their arms. Miles of wagons, caissons,ambulances, forges, arms, ammunition,—all that belonged to thatportion of the line, was lost to Lee in a moment. Generals Ewell,Kershaw, Defoe, Barton, Custis Lee, Borden, and Corse were prisonersalmost before they knew it.

"Further fighting is useless; it will be a waste of life," said Ewellto Custar.

"Bravely done, Custar," said Sheridan, riding up, and complimentinghis lieutenant in the presence of the whole division.

It was through the co-operation of the other cavalry divisions,Crook's and Devens's and Merritt's, and of the Sixth Corps, thatCustar was enabled to strike such a crushing blow. Honor is due toall. Custar had his horse killed; Lieutenant Harwell, CaptainBarnhart, Lieutenant Narvall, Lieutenant Main, and Lieutenant Custar,all belonging to his staff, also had their horses shot in the splendidcharge, which of itself proves that it was gallant and desperate.Officers and men alike rushed upon the enemy, rivalling each other indeeds of daring.

After receiving this paralyzing blow Lee gave up all hope of reachingDanville. He could move only in the direction of Lynchburg. Caissons,wagons, and ambulances were burned, cannon abandoned, commissarysupplies left by the roadside.

It was a day of jubilee to the colored people, who swarmed out fromtheir cabins and appropriated the plunder.

"'Pears like as if we were spiling the Egyptians," said an old man whohad gathered an immense pile of blankets and coats.

There was a skirmish at Farmville the next morning, between thecavalry and the left wing of Lee's army. The centre, and what remainedof the right wing, crossed the Appomattox ten miles aboveFarmville,—both columns moving to Appomattox Court-House, where Leehoped to unite his scattered forces.

Grant and Meade, with the Second and Sixth Corps, crossed atFarmville, and followed Lee along the Petersburg and Lynchburgturnpike. Ord, joined by the Fifth, starting from Burkesville, tookthe shortest road to Appomattox Court-House, nearly(p. 549) fiftymiles distant, while Sheridan, with the main body of the cavalry, madea rapid movement southwest to cut off Lee's retreat. The pursuit fromSailors' Creek commenced on Friday morning, and Lee was brought to baySaturday noon.

It was an exciting race. There were frequent interchanges of shotsbetween the cavalry, hovering like a cloud upon Lee's flank, alsocaptures of abandoned wagons, ambulances, caissons, pieces ofartillery, and picking up of stragglers. Glimpses of the Rebel forceswere sometimes had across the ravines. As a sight of the flying deerquickens the pursuit of the hound, so an occasional view of the flyingenemy roused the soldiers to a wild and irrepressible enthusiasm, andtheir shouts and cheers rang long and loud through the surroundingwoodlands.

Appomattox Court-House is at the head-waters of the Appomattox River,on the table-land between the rivulets which give rise to that streamand the James River, which makes its great southern bend at Lynchburg.The place is sometimes called Clover Hill. It is a smallvillage,—such as are to be seen throughout the Old Dominion,—one ortwo good, substantial houses, surrounded by a dozen or twentymiserable cabins.

Lee succeeded in reuniting his troops, numbering not more than adivision, such as once marched under his direction up the heights ofGettysburg, or moved into the fight in the Wilderness; but whenreunited and ready to move upon Lynchburg, he found the cloud whichhad hung upon his flank and rear now enveloping him on the north, theeast, the south, the west. Sheridan had swung past him, Ord andGriffin were south of him, holding the road leading to Danville, whileWright and Humphrey, east and north, were preparing to drive him overagainst Sheridan, who in turn would toss him down towards Ord andGriffin.

Great was the consternation in the Rebel ranks when, on Saturdaymorning, the Rebels discovered that Sheridan was cutting off theirretreat to Lynchburg.

"Yankees at Appomattox! Sheridan!"[109] was the cry of a party ofRebel officers on a locomotive, hastening to Lynchburg in season toescape the Union cavalrymen then advancing to(p. 550) tear up therails. Sheridan pounced upon the artillery, and on the afternoon ofthe 8th captured twenty-five pieces. Meade at the same time came uponthe rear of the Rebels a mile east of the Court-House, and captured abattery. Lee's men were melting away, worn down by hard marching andfighting, and discouraged by defeat and disaster. His provisions weregetting low, as the larger part of the supplies had been abandoned.His condition was critical.

It was a gloomy night. A courier brought intelligence that Sheridanhad possession of Concord Station.

"We all felt," says a Rebel writer, "our hearts chilled by this newrumor. Concord Station was between us and Lynchburg, and we had noknowledge of any other road to that place than that which we werepursuing. Turning back, our capture was inevitable. The generalswithdrew to consult, the staff officers conversed in low tones, whilethe soldiers, teamsters, the cause being unknown, did not hesitate todeclare their impatience at the delay."[110]

Lee called his last council of war, summoning Longstreet, Pickett,Gordon, and Hill. The condition of affairs was discussed. It was a sadhour. Lee was much depressed. He did not know that the infantry underOrd and Griffin were south of him, but supposed that his way wasdisputed only by Sheridan. It was decided to force a passage. Theattack was made; but the volleys of musketry and the vigor of thecannonade, and the long lines of men in blue, convinced him that hehad little chance of escaping. The skirmishing was kept up through theday,—both parties too wearied and exhausted to fight a generalbattle,—yet each moment of delay made Lee's condition more hopeless.

Grant had despatched a letter to Lee on the 7th, from Farmville,asking the surrender of the army of Northern Virginia.

Lee replied the same day, asking for terms.

On the 8th Grant sent a second letter, insisting upon one conditiononly: "That the men and officers shall be disqualified for taking uparms against the United States until properly exchanged."

(p. 551) "I do not think the emergency has arisen to call for thesurrender of this army," Lee answered; but at the same time asked foran interview at ten o'clock next morning. Sheridan had not closed allthe roads to Lynchburg, but was in such a position that it wasimpossible for Lee to get away with his army. Breckenridge, with alarge number of officers and many thousands of privates, strucknorthwest, through by-roads and fields, crossed James River, reachedLynchburg and passed into North Carolina.

The Second Corps was in position on Sunday morning, waiting the orderto advance, when a flag of truce was displayed in front of Miles'sdivision. Captain J. D. Cook, of General Miles's staff, was sent toreceive it. He was met by Colonel Taylor, of Lee's staff, who broughta note from Lee, wishing for a suspension of hostilities to take intoconsideration the terms offered by General Grant on Saturday. GeneralMeade signified by note that he had no authority to enter into anarmistice, but would wait two hours before making an attack, and wouldcommunicate with General Grant.

Before the expiration of the time General Grant arrived, and acorrespondence with Lee followed, which resulted in the appointment ofa place of meeting for a more full consideration of the terms proposedby General Grant.

In the little village of Appomattox Court-House there is a large,square brick house, with a portico in front, the residence of WilmerMcLean. Roses were budding in the garden on that Sabbath morning,violets and daffodils were already in bloom, and the trees whichshaded the dwelling were green with the verdure of spring. General Leedesignated it as the place for meeting General Grant. It was a littlepast two o'clock in the afternoon when General Lee, accompanied byGeneral Marshall, his chief of staff, entered the house. A few minuteslater General Grant arrived, accompanied only by Colonel Parker, ofhis staff, chief of the Six Nations.

The meeting was in the parlor,—a square room, carpeted, furnishedwith a sofa and centre-table. Lee, dressed in a suit of gray, wassitting by the table when Grant entered. Time had silvered his hairand beard. He wore an elegant sword, a gift from his friends.

(p. 552) General Grant had left his sword behind, and appeared in thesame suit he had worn in the field through the eventful days,—a plainblue frock, with double row of buttons, and shoulder-straps bearingthe three silver stars, the insignia of his rank asLieutenant-General.

The meeting was cordial. After salutations the two commanders satdown, placed their hats on the table, and conversed as freely as inother days when both were in the service of the United States. GeneralLee alluded to the correspondence which had passed between them.

"General, I have requested this interview, to know more fully theterms which you propose," said General Lee.

General Grant replied that he would grant a parole to officers andmen, and that the officers might retain their side-arms and theirpersonal effects. General Lee assented to the proposition, and did notask for any modification of the terms, which were then engrossed. Thepaper was signed by General Lee at half past three o'clock.

After he had affixed his signature, General Lee asked for GeneralGrant's understanding of the term "personal effects" which had beenused in the instrument.

"Many of my cavalrymen own their horses," he said.

"I think that the horses must be turned over to the United States,"was the reply.

"I coincide in that opinion," was Lee's rejoinder.

"But," said General Grant, "I will instruct the officers who areappointed to carry out the capitulation to allow those who own horsesto take them home. They will need them to do their spring ploughingand to till their farms."

"Allow me to express my thanks for such consideration and generosityon your part. It cannot fail of having a good effect," General Leereplied with emotion.

After further conversation General Lee expressed a hope that eachsoldier of his army might be furnished with a certificate, or someother evidence of parole, to prevent them from being forced intofurther service by Confederate conscripting officers.

General Lee's Farewell.

"I will order such certificates to be issued to every man," saidGeneral Grant; and as soon as the preliminaries were(p. 553)settled, the head-quarters printing-press was put to work striking offblanks for that purpose.

"My army is short of rations," said Lee.

"You shall be supplied," and an order was at once issued to thecommissary to furnish rations to the prisoners.

The question of terms had been discussed the evening previous aroundGrant's camp-fire. Grant stated that he wanted such a surrender aswould break down the positions which France and England had taken inrecognizing the Rebels as belligerents. He did not wish forhumiliating terms. He would not require a formal grounding of arms.The Rebels were Americans, and his object was to restore them to theUnion and not to degrade them.

Lee returned to his army and stated the terms of capitulation, whichwere received with great satisfaction, especially by those who ownedhorses. They cheered loudly, and no doubt heartily. The terms weresuch as they had not expected. The newspapers of the South hadpersistently represented the men of the North as bloodthirsty andvindictive,—as vandals, robbers, and murderers,—capable of doing thework of fiends, and the remarkable leniency of Grant surprised them.

The terms were not altogether acceptable to Grant's army. Many of theofficers remembered that General Pickett never had resigned hiscommission in the United States service, but that he had taken up armsagainst the country without any scruples of conscience. He was adeserter and a traitor, found in arms. The soldiers remembered thatscores of their comrades had been shot or hung for deserting theranks; the utmost leniency of the government was a long term ofimprisonment in a penitentiary or confinement on the Dry Tortugas.Sentinels had been shot for falling asleep while on duty; yet GeneralPickett and his fellow-traitors were, by the terms of the parole,granted an indulgence which was equivalent to a pardon. It was GeneralPickett who hung the Union men of North Carolina who had enlisted inthe service of the Union, but who, under the fortunes of war, hadfallen into his hands. In General Pickett's estimation they hadcommitted an unpardonable crime. He considered them as citizens of theConfederacy, and hung them upon the nearest tree. It was cold-bloodedmurder.(p. 554) But his desertion, treason, inhumanity, and murderswere offset by the plea that the North could afford to be magnanimousto a conquered foe! The soldiers idolized Grant as a commander. Theyhad no objection to his terms with the privates of Lee's army, butthere was dissent from including Pickett and Ewell, and other Rebelofficers who had been notoriously inhuman to Union soldiers. The Rebelsoldiers were generally humane towards prisoners, especially after thefirst year of the war. Many instances might be cited of their kindnessto the wounded on the battle-field and to prisoners in their hands.The officers in the field were also kind, but the political leaders,the women, and officers in charge of prisons were cruel andvindictive.

The hour came for Lee to part with his officers. He retained hiscalmness and composure, but they could not refrain from sheddingtears. It was to be their last meeting. He was to lead them no more inbattle.

The occasion brought before them an acute sense that all wasover,—all lost; their sacrifices, sufferings, heroism, had been invain; their pride was humbled; instead of being victors, they werevanquished; history and the impartial verdict of mankind perhaps wouldhold them responsible for the blood which had been shed. It was a sadhour to that body of men in gray, wearing the stars of a perishedConfederacy.

The intelligence of the capitulation was communicated to Grant's armyby bulletin. As the news flew along the lines on that Sabbath morning,the cheering was prolonged and vociferous. For the first time in fouryears the veterans who had toiled in the mud of the Peninsula, who hadbeen beaten back from Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville, who hadstood like a wall of adamant on the banks of the Antietam, and theheights of Gettysburg, who had pressed Lee from the Wilderness to FiveForks, who had brought him to bay at last, were to have a peacefulnight.

Their fighting was over, and there was to be no more charging ofbatteries; nor long watchings in the trenches, drenched by rains,parched by summer heat, or numbed by the frosts of winter; no morescenes of blood, of wasting away in hospitals, or murders andstarvation in Rebel prisons. It was the hour(p. 555) of peace. In theradiant light of that Sabbath sun they could rejoice in the thoughtthat they had once more a reunited country; that an abject people hadbeen redeemed from slavery; that the honor of the nation had beenvindicated; that the flag which traitors had trailed in the dust atthe beginning of the conflict was more than ever the emblem of theworld's best hopes.

Study for a statue of Lincoln.

(p. 556) CHAPTER XXXIV.
CONCLUSION.

Day was breaking on the 12th of April, when General Grant, accompaniedby his staff, alighted from the cars at City Point, after a tediousnight ride from Burkesville. He walked slowly up the steep bank to hishead-quarters, not with the air of a conqueror, but as if sleep andrest would be far more acceptable than the congratulations of a noisycrowd. Four years had passed since he left his quiet home in Illinois,a humble citizen, unknown beyond his village borders; but now his namewas inseparably connected with a great moral convulsion, world-wide inits influence, enduring as time in its results. The mighty conflict ofideas had swept round the globe like a tidal wave of the ocean.Industry had been quickened in every land, and new channels of tradeopened among the nations. Wherever human language was spoken, mentalked of the war between Slavery and Freedom, and aspirations forgood were awakened in the hearts of toiling millions in Europe, on theburning sands of Africa, and in the jungles of Hindostan, to whom lifewas bare existence and the future ever hopeless.

Assassination of Lincoln.

The four years of fighting were over; the Rebellion was subdued. Onthe first of April Lee had a large army, but suddenly he had beenoverwhelmed. That which seemed so formidable had disappeared like abubble in the sunshine. Though the Rebels saw that the Confederacy wasthreatened as it had not been at any other period of the war, therewere few, if any, who, up to the latest hour, dreamed that there couldbe such an overturning of affairs. That Lee had held his ground solong was a warranty that he could successfully resist all Grant'sefforts to take Richmond. The Confederate Congress met daily in thecapital, passed resolutions, enacted laws, and debated questions ofstate, as if the Confederacy had a place among the nations, withcenturies of prosperity and glory in(p. 557) prospect. But theirperformance came to an unexpected end. The last act of the tragedy wasgiven on the 14th,—the assassination of the President.

What drama surpasses it in interest? What period of the world'shistory is more replete with great events affecting the welfare of thehuman race? In 1861, when the curtain rose, the world beheld a nation,peaceful, happy, prosperous. Then came the spectacle,—the processionof seceding States, with bugles sounding, colors flying, thebombardment of Sumter; the uprising of the people of the North, thedrum-beat heard in every village, flags floating from all thesteeples, streamers and banners from all the house-tops, greatbattles, defeat, and victory; a ploughman and splitter of rails theliberator of the enslaved, their enlistment as soldiers of theRepublic; the patriotism of the people; woman's work of love andmercy; the ghastly scenes in Southern prisons, the conflagration ofcities set on fire by the Rebels, the breaking up of the Confederacy,the assassination, the capture of the Rebel chief, the return of thevictorious armies, the last grand military pageant at Washington, andthen the retirement of the soldiers to peaceful life! Sublime thepicture!

The conflict commenced as a rebellion, but ended in revolution.Slavery has disappeared. Civil liberty is stronger than in 1861. Fourmillions of freedmen are candidates for citizenship, who at thebeginning of the Rebellion had no rights under the flag of the Union.

"Slaves rise up men; the olive waves,
With roots deep set in battle graves."

The Rebellion was an attempt to suppress Truth and Justice by tyranny.The effort might have been successful in earlier ages, but not in thenineteenth century, and never will the attempt be repeated on Americansoil, for the tendency of mind is towards a clearer perception of therights of man. America uttered her protest against despotic power in1776. "It was an experiment," said the aristocracies of Europe. The"republican bubble has burst," said Earl Russell in 1861; but theRepublic lives, and the false and ignoble distinctions in the societyof the Old World, which slavery attempted to establish in the New,have been reversed. America teaches this truth to(p. 558) thewondering nations,—that the strongest government rests, not on thefew, not on property, never on injustice, but on the people, ondiffused wealth and enlightened mind, on obligation to man and God.

Kings will yet lay aside their sceptres, and subjects will becomesovereigns, because the people of America, by example, have shown theworld that civil and religious liberty for all, as well as for thefew, is of more value than human life.

How lavish the expenditure of blood! How generous the outpouring ofthe wine of life by the heroic dead!

"Song of peace, nor battle's roar,
Ne'er shall break their slumbers more;
Death shall keep his solemn trust,
'Earth to earth, and dust to dust.'"

Dead, yet living. Their patriotism, sacrifice, endurance, patience,faith, and hope can never die. Loved and lamented, but immortal. Pæansfor the living, dirges for the dead. Their work is done, not for anhour, a day, a year, but for all time; not for fame or ambition, butfor the poor, the degraded, the oppressed of all lands, forcivilization and Christianity, for the welfare of the human racethrough Time and Eternity!

Footnotes

1 McDowell's Order.

2 See "Days and Nights on the Battle-Field," p. 58.

3 Our God is a strong fortress.

4 "North America," by Anthony Trollope, Vol. II. p. 86.

5 North American Review, January, 1866, p. 189.

6 The accompanying illustration is an accuraterepresentation drawn by Mr. Wand, who witnessed the battle. Thebattery in the foreground is north of the house of Mr. Roulet, nearthe centre of Sumner's line. French's and Richardson's divisions areseen in the middle of the picture, and the Rebels under D. H. Hill andLongstreet beyond.

7 Want of space compels me to give only a sketch of thebattle; but a full, circumstantial, and detailed account of thepositions and movements of the two armies may be found in "Followingthe Flag," published by Messrs. Ticknor and Fields of Boston.

8 Pollard's Second Year of the War, p. 152.

9 Letter to BostonJournal, December 9, 1862.

10 Boker's "Crossing at Fredericksburg."

11 Richmond Examiner, December 15, 1862.

12 Lieutenant-Colonel Fizer's Report.

13 Jackson's Report.

14 Lee's Report.

15 General Meade's Testimony, Conduct of the War, Part I.p. 696.

16 See map accompanying General Franklin's reply to Reportof Committee on Conduct of the War.

17 Testimony, Conduct of the War, Part I. p. 715.

18 Testimony of Meade and other officers, Conduct of theWar.

19 General Howard's Address at Washington.

20 Letter to RichmondExaminer.

21 RichmondExaminer, May 1st 1863.

22 Howard's Report.

23 General Sickles's statement.

24 Howard's Report.

25 Howard's Report.

26 General Doles's Report, p. 63.

27 Colston's Report, p. 43.

28 Life of Stonewall Jackson, by Daniels, of Richmond, p.254.

29 Lee's Report.

30 Stuart's Report.

31 "From the Potomac to the Rapidan," by Quint.

32 Lee's Report.

33 Wilcox's Report, p. 98.

34 Wilcox's Report.

35 Barksdale's Report.

36 Brooks's Report.

37 Barksdale's Report.

38 General Wilcox's Report.

39 Lee's Report, p. 12.

40 Howard's Report, p. 9.

41 Kilpatrick and Our Cavalry, p. 49.

42 Kilpatrick and our Cavalry, p. 50.

43 Kilpatrick's Report.

44 Atlantic Monthly, April, 1863.

45 Starry regions.

46 Lieutenant Freemantle.—Blackwood's Magazine,September, 1863.

47 The accompanying plan of the battle-field accuratelyrepresents the general positions of the troops engaged. On the rightof the Union line is the Twelfth Corps; then two divisions of theFirst; then the Eleventh in and around The cemetery; then Robinson'sdivision of the First; then the Second and the Fifth on the left,occupying Weed's Hill. The Third Corps is in the position it occupiedat the beginning of the battle on the afternoon of the second day. Itwas forced back to Trostle's house. The Sixth Corps is in the positionit occupied at sunset on the second day. On the third day it was inline along Weed's Hill. When Slocum went over from the right to aid inrepulsing Longstreet on the second day, he passed near the two housesstanding on the Taneytown road. Meade's quarters were in the houseover which a flag is flying.

Longstreet is in the position which he occupied at three o'clock onthe afternoon of the second day, and to which he retired after failingto push Sickles beyond Trostle's.

Pickett commanded a division and not a corps. But as his division tookthe lead in the last attack, on the third day, and as his repulse wasseemingly the turning-point of the Rebellion, especial mention hasbeen made of the part taken by the troops under his command. Hillsupported him. A portion of Hill's troops were with Longstreet in theattack of the second day.

Ewell is in the position he occupied at dark on the second day, whiletwo of Slocum's divisions were aiding the left of Meade's line.

Lee's head-quarters were near Smucker's house.

The fight on the first day began on Willoughby's Run. The Union lineson that day extended from the Middletown road along the semicircleoccupied by the Rebel cannon in the diagram, to the railroad east ofBlocher's. The map is reduced from an accurate survey.

The best plan of this battle extant is the isometrical picture ofGettysburg, by Colonel J. B. Batchelder, who has devoted many monthsto the study of the field. It will ever be standard authority for thehistorian.

48 Freemantle.

49 Blackwood's Magazine, September, 1863.

50 Blackwood's Magazine, September, 1864.—Freemantle.

51 General Howard's Report.

52 Blackwood's Magazine, September,1863.—Lieutenant-Colonel Freemantle.

53 Address before Alumni of Williams College, 1865. CharlesDemond.

54 Ibid.

55 Rev. Mr. Auley, meeting Christian Association, Chicago.

56 Lee's Report.

57 Lee's Report.

58 McClellan's Report, p. 46.

59 Magruder's Report.

60 McClellan's Report, p. 238.

61 McClellan's Report.

62 Pollard, First Year, p. 329.

63 Magruder's Report, p. 191.

64 Grant's Official Report.

65 Grant's Report.

66 Grant's Report.

67 See "My Days and Nights on the Battle-Field"; alsotestimony of Captain Ricketts and Captain Griffin, in Report ofCommittee on Conduct of the War.

68 Attack on Petersburg, Report of Committee on Conduct ofthe War, p. 4.

69 Ibid., p. 5.

70 Report of Committee.

71 RichmondEnquirer, July 19, 1864.

72 AugustaConstitutionalist, November 22, 1864.

73News, November 22, 1864.

74 Sherman's Report.

75 Report of the United States Sanitary Commission.

76 See theWatchman, New York.

77 Miss Barton's Report.

78 Sherman's Report.

79 Proceedings of South Carolina Legislature.

80 Speech of Senator Chestnut.

81 SouthernPresbyterian Review, January, 1861.

82 CharlestonMercury, November 3, 1860.

83Mercury, November 12, 1860.

84Mercury, November 9, 1860.

85 CharlestonMercury, November 17, 1860.

86 CharlestonMercury, November 9, 1860.

87Courier, December 29, 1860.

88Mercury, December 29, 1860.

89 Floyd's Letter to Buchanan.

90 Speech of Governor Pickens.

91 James Redpath.

92 Report of Treasurer and Finance, South Carolina, 1862.

93 Report of James Chestnut, Chief Military Department,South Carolina, January 1, 1862, p. 47.

94 Ibid., p. 24.

95 Rebel War Clerk's Diary, Vol. II. p. 446.

96 Sheridan's Report.

97 A Rebel Courier's Experience.

98 Rebel War Clerk's Diary, Vol. I. p. 24.

99 Benjamin's letter to Mason, October 28, 1862.

100 Benjamin's letter to Mr. De Leon, December 13, 1862.

101 Benjamin's Letter, October 24, 1862.

102 Earl Russell's letter to Mr. Adams, Diplo. Cor. 1863,Part I. p. 129.

103 Benjamin to Slidell, October 17, 1862.

104Times, March 19, 1863.

105Times, July 13, 1849.

106Times, March 23, 1863.

107 Lee's Last Campaign, p. 26.

108 Rebel Courier's Experience.

109 Rebel Courier's Experience.

110 Rebel Courier's Experience.