S^' 
 
 .' , l{ f( < yi I ( (A 
 
M E M li I A L 
 
 GEN. J. K. F. MANSFIELD 
 
 UNITED STATES ARMY, 
 
 WHO FELL IN BATTLE 
 
 SHARPSBURG, Md 
 
 SEPT. 17, 18 62, 
 
 BOSTON: 
 
 PRESS OF T. R. MARVIN & SON, 42 CONGRESS STREET. 
 1862. 
 
K\;i'| \\^ 
 
 
CITIZENS OF MIDDLETOWN, 
 
 WHO ESTEEMED 
 
 GENERAL MANSFIELD 
 
 IN LIFE, 
 
 Mourned him in Death, Honored him in Burial; 
 
 THIS MEMORIAL OF HIS WORTH 
 
 IS RESrECTFULLY INSCIilBED 
 BY TUEIR FRIEND AND FELLOW CITIZEN, 
 
 JEREMIAH TAYLOR. 
 
ADDRESSES 
 
 FUNERAL OF GENERAL MANSFIELD, 
 
 M 1 13 D L E T O W N , CON N 
 
 SEPTEMBER 2 3, 186 2. 
 
MR. TAYLOR'S ADDRESS. 
 
 There are marked clays in the experience of 
 all men — days in which some great calamity was 
 born ; and the index of heavy sorrow is evermore 
 set over against them. 
 
 Such were the days of the past week to ns 
 all. It was known that the hostile forces in this 
 nation were arra}ed in such relative positions, 
 that a severe engagement must inevitably and 
 quickly transpire, and such a scene of carnage 
 ensue as is not often witnessed on the field of 
 Mars. 
 
 Oh ! if the heavens ever seemed ready to fall 
 and crush hope entirely, it was on Wednesday and 
 Thursday last, while silence was so ominous and 
 rumors from the scene of strife were so conflictins: 
 and unreliable. To add to the general interest 
 which every one felt in the success of our arms, a 
 special anxiety was awakened in this community, 
 
8 
 
 owing to the fact that our fellow-citizen, Gen. 
 Mansfield, was liolding a prominent position in 
 the engagement. 
 
 Thursday noon, in the midst of this terrible 
 suspense, there came a line in one of the daily 
 journals, which turned suspense into agony, and 
 made all hearts palpitate as they have not been 
 wont to do : — " Mansfield is killed ! " Three 
 words ; but how broad tlieir meaning, how elec- 
 tric their influence in this circle of his friends ! 
 
 It quickly found its way to his family, and 
 opened there the fountain of grief It passed from 
 lip to lip, as neighbor met neighbor in the street, 
 with the half-spoken inquiry, " Can it be pos- 
 sible ? " Oh ! how thankful we were then, that 
 newspaper tales had so often proved untrue; for we 
 could not, we would not believe, though a crush- 
 ing conviction told us we must. How heavy was 
 the hour of agonized hope and fear in that home 
 circle ! At length hope predominates, for there 
 came in the mysterious silence of a telegraphic 
 despatch — " The General is badly wounded." He 
 lives then ! How docs the heart of conjugal love 
 long to fly to his side, to bind up his wounds, and 
 bring back the fleeing spirit ! What scenes of 
 suffering the imagination paints for him, where he 
 lies wounded, dying, it may be I 
 
9 
 
 Again the winged messenger is at the door. It 
 is all over — death is the word he speaks. Twenty- 
 four hours the Avounded hero lay weltering in his 
 blood, and the strife was over. He had reached 
 the victory which comes after dying. In those 
 hours of suffering, his thought still lingers in 
 battle-scenes, as he asks for the success of our 
 arms. He tells his messages of love to the absent 
 and cherished ; he bequeaths his body to the 
 sepulchres of his fathers ; lifts his thoughts to 
 God in prayer, and commends his departing spirit 
 to his Saviour. 
 
 " Then in death his eyelids close, 
 Calmly, as to a night's repose, 
 Like flowers at set of sun." 
 
 His faithful Aid, who had been by his side for 
 more than a year, and seems to owe his own life to 
 prompt obedience to the last command of his 
 General, watched and soothed his last hours ; and 
 when the end came, took up the lifeless body, 
 hoping to 'bear it hither, that friends might look 
 once more their long, farewell look, upon his silent 
 face and noble brow, before death had completed 
 his work entire. But to make more poignant the 
 event, this has been denied. He has come to us, 
 but oh ! how unlike his former self He speaks 
 
10 
 
 not. ]le moves not his majestic form along our 
 streets. lie returns no friendly salutations, no 
 words of thanks, to those who in the stillness of 
 the midnight hour go forth to meet him, as he 
 did when borne hither triumphant from the victo- 
 ries of Mexico. No, he does not even go to his 
 own home of love, where so warm a welcome has 
 always awaited him. The Sabbath has come and 
 ffone since his return, but we found him not in his 
 accustomed seat in the house of God. The sym- 
 bols of death and mourning which everywhere 
 meet us, tell the unwelcome tale. It is even so. 
 Our beloved friend, our esteemed citizen, our 
 heroic General, has indeed fallen ! He has reached 
 the end of earth ! Nothing remains to us now 
 of him but the memory of his virtues and noble 
 deeds. 
 
 There are many aspects in which the character 
 of the honored dead may be viewed to the highest 
 advantage. So elevated was the position he held 
 in the estimation of his fellow-citizens and com- 
 panions in arms, that we may recite for him a 
 remark recently applied to another of our fallen 
 Generals, and which Lord Clarendon first uttered 
 over the death of Sir Beville Grenville, at the 
 battle of Lansdowne — " that it would have clouded 
 any victory, and have made the loss of others less 
 spoken of" 
 
11 
 
 The brief space allowed me on this occasion, 
 the proprieties of my relation to him as his pastor, 
 suggest one, and only one topic, for this service. 
 
 I WILL SPEAK OF HIM AS A CHRISTIAN SoLDIER. 
 
 Whatever he may have been in other respects, 
 his humble, consistent piety has spread a charm 
 over all. And now, as his immortal part has gone 
 to God, and we are soon to commit all of him that 
 is mortal to the grave, how it enlivens the tomb, 
 and abates our sorrow, to feel the assurance that 
 he has gone to be evermore with the Lord ; that 
 he to-day Avears such a crown of victory as adorns 
 no warrior chieftain's brow on earth ; but having 
 overcome sin by the power of a saving faith, 
 behold, he reigns with Christ ! 
 
 When it is claimed for Gen. Mansfield, that he 
 was a Christian ; all admit the propriety of the 
 claim. There is no uncertain ground here. He 
 cordially received the distinctive doctrines of grace 
 as presented in the gospel, and rested solely on the 
 merit of Christ for salvation and eternal life. And 
 the controlling influence of his life sprung from 
 his faith. It is an interesting fact, that he made a 
 public profession of his faith on the Fourth of 
 July ; indicating by the coincidence of the event 
 with the day, that in him the Christian and the 
 Patriot should be happily blended ; that he who 
 
12 
 
 was to die for his coiuitiy would be the disciple 
 of Him who ga^o his Hie for the world ; that tlie 
 soldier and the saint might be one. 
 
 Tt is told of him when in the Mexican war, that 
 his tent was the place of daily prayer, when cir- 
 cumstances would permit. On referring to this 
 fact, in conversation with him, and expressing my 
 joy that a course so becoming a Christian had been 
 maintained by him, his prompt reply greatly inter- 
 ested and impressed me : " What is more reasonable 
 than the service which God claims of me ?" To 
 one who had been with him on terms of great inti- 
 macy during a year's campaign, where tlie worst 
 features of human nature arc revealed, the question 
 was put : " Have you seen anything in him, or 
 heard anything from him, to w^eaken your confi- 
 dence in his piety ? " His answer was prompt and 
 immediate, " Never : " and added, that his life was 
 a powerful and perpetual evidence of the truth in 
 wliich he believed. In the stillness of the silent 
 hoiu', from his room adjoining, there had often 
 fallen on the ear the voice of his prayer. 
 
 We, too, who have been wont to worship with 
 him in the same house of prayer, have often heard 
 the voice of his supplications at the throne of 
 grace. In his letters to his family, for many years, 
 a divine benediction has ever formed the befitting 
 
18 
 
 close. His last communings on earth, too, were 
 with God in heaven. It has been said that his 
 faith gave impulse and direction to his whole life. 
 It made him brave in the hour of danger. Where 
 duty called, he knew God would be with liirii. No 
 form of self-denial could discourage him. Often 
 he had been in positions of great exposure. Still, 
 each new call for service found him as prompt and 
 willing as before. The fervid climate of the south 
 and the frigid atmosphere of the north were often 
 endured in his country's cause. His property, too, 
 was held as a sacred trust, to be used in God's 
 service. He preserved simplicity in his style of 
 living, that he might have more with which to meet 
 the calls of charity and beneficence. He fed the 
 hungry, clothed the naked, encouraged the young 
 in laudable efforts to obtain an education, as few 
 have had the privilege of doing. Many a young 
 lady in this community has a prize in her keeping 
 to-day, presented by him as a reward of merit. 
 
 AVriting to a friend on the right use of property, 
 he said, " I cannot do better with the means with 
 which God has blessed me, than to carry out the 
 purposes of him who has blessed me with what I 
 have, and return him his own with usury, and 
 that is my wish." Thus he lived, thus he labored ; 
 remembering the I^ord that had bought him and 
 
14 
 
 to wlioin lie must render his final account. lie, 
 doubtless, would ascribe much of" his success in life 
 to this desire to serve and honor God, His record 
 stands out fair on tlie roll of fame. Step by step, 
 lie had arisen, bornc^ upward by sterling worth. 
 Had his life been prolonged but for a few days 
 more, it is believed he would have been promoted 
 to tlie rank long since awarded him in the judgment 
 of many. But he needed no more honor from men. 
 Tie has gone up to join the service of Him, who 
 has said to him, in the presence of angels and the 
 hosts of heaven : " Well done, good and faithful 
 servant ; thou hast been faithful over a few things ; 
 I will make thee ruler over many things." 
 
 "Soul of the brave, look backward in thy flight; 
 Our eye pursues thee, till thou'rt lost in light; 
 There rest in peace, thy earthly pains forgot ; — 
 Soul of tlie brave! how happy is thy lot!" 
 
MR. JACKSO^^'S ADDRESS. 
 
 If, my friends, in the order of these mournful 
 rites, the voice of a private citizen precede that of 
 our worthy Chief Magistrate, and of the distin- 
 guished Senator here present to do honor to the 
 illustrious dead, it is solely because it has been 
 deemed fitting that some expression of the feelings 
 of his fellow-townsmen, to whom he was best and 
 longest known, should follow the simple and 
 touching tribute of his Pastor, to his religious 
 character. 
 
 Seldom is it permitted to survivors to indulge, 
 as we may upon this occasion, the effusions of the 
 heart with so little restraint, or fear of exaggera- 
 tion. In ancient Egypt, a law subjected the dead to 
 a solemn inquisition into their past lives, where all 
 were invited to show cause, if any, why the privi- 
 lege of honorable sepulture should be denied. Did 
 such a law exist at this day, the friends of no man 
 
IG 
 
 could challenge that scrutiny with greater confi- 
 dence, tlum those of" Joseph Mansfield. We have 
 known him from his boyhood, and watched with 
 interest his steady and consistent march in the 
 ])ath of duty, through all the grades of his pro- 
 fession, up to the day when, having reached by 
 arduous service its highest rank, he fell gloriously, 
 as would every true soldier desire to fall, defending 
 the violated laws of his country. 
 
 This vast assemblage, these unwonted and spon- 
 taneous funeral honors, testify to the hold he had 
 upon our affections, and the universal esteem with 
 which he was regarded throughout this, his native 
 State. In social life, modest and unpretending ; 
 in all its relations, just and truthful ; a brave, 
 accomplished soldier ; an earnest patriot, and an 
 humble Christian ; his memory will ever be dear 
 to this community, and his name enrolled among 
 those who have most honored their native land. 
 
 In his career, and that of the lamented Lyon, 
 there were striking points of resemblance. Both, 
 animated by the loftiest patriotism and a dauntless 
 courage, fell in the front of battle, leading and 
 inspiring their troops ; both have crowned with 
 unfading glory, the martial character of the Con- 
 necticut soldier ; and both deserve, as I trust they 
 will experience, the gratitude of our State, by such 
 
17 
 
 monumental honors as shall preserve, to the latest 
 posterity, the remembrance of their glorious ex- 
 amples. 
 
 For myself, nearly forty years of intimate friend- 
 ship now rise up before me, full of the most pleas- 
 ing, yet painful associations. Great griefs are 
 silent, and it is difficult to speak with composure 
 of the loss of one endeared by such tender mem- 
 ories. Never have I known him to swerve in the 
 slightest degree from the path of honor and duty. 
 But while his death fills our hearts with heaviness, 
 there yet remains to one and all, this great conso- 
 lation — that the influence of such a man dies not 
 with him, but survives to animate future genera- 
 tions, and to kindle in the breasts of ingenuous 
 youth, an emulation of his noble and magnanimous 
 spirit. 
 
MR. DIXON'S ADDRESS. 
 
 Friends (iml Fellow-Citizens : 
 
 As \ye beliold the brave sons of Connecticut, 
 one after another, falling on the held of battle, 
 it may almost seem that our beloved State, doubly 
 endeared by her abounding sacrifices in this hour 
 of trial, is giving more than her part, in that 
 richest of treasures — the blood of her children — 
 to the war for the Union. Yet if she gives more 
 than her part, she gives as freely as the light of 
 heaven is this day poured down upon the world. 
 Willingly she offers up her sons to die in the high 
 places of the field ; but oh, not without a pang — 
 not without agonizing sorrow and regret. Begin- 
 ning with a Lyon and a Ward, she now closes 
 the list — would that we might hope the long, sad 
 list were indeed closed — with the name of the 
 oldest and most distinguished of her military 
 heroes. And what an ofi'ering is this that she 
 
19 
 
 now makes ! Mansfield ! noble, brave, celebrated 
 throughout the nation for his military skill and 
 science ; he too has died for his country, as a 
 soldier might wish to die, on the held of battle, 
 and in the hour of victory. How many more 
 such sacrifices may yet be required of us, we 
 cannot know ; but we feel that we have already 
 given of our noblest, our bravest, and our most 
 fondly beloved. 
 
 As I stand here this day, in the midst of this 
 vast assemblage of mourners, I am reminded of 
 the time when I last saw Gen. Mansfield. It was 
 on the 20th day of July, 1861 — the day before 
 the fatal battle of Bull liun. He was then in 
 consultation with Gen. Scott. Although the pre- 
 mature movement which resulted so disastrously 
 was not advised or approved by him, yet he was 
 ready to do all in his power to render it successful. 
 Cool, collected, self-reliant, he seemed to me all 
 that could be imagined or desired in a military 
 hero. In that anxious hour he spoke of Con- 
 necticut, and I never shall forget the warm and 
 earnest words with which he expressed his love 
 and veneration for his native State. As he hon- 
 ored her in his life and in his death, so she, this 
 day, standing as a mourner by his grave, honors 
 him. 
 
20 
 
 Of his \\i\\ his services, and his Christian 
 character and example, you have heard to-day. 
 His historv is a record of duty nobly performed. 
 Now that his work on earth is done, and his 
 career of glory ended, we have come, with sadness 
 and with pride, to lay his body in the grave. 
 Such graves ennoble and illustrate our State ; and 
 of such graves, even within our narrow borders, 
 there are many ; yet among them all, from the 
 grave of Putnam in the east, to the grave of 
 Wooster in the west, there is none holier, none 
 dearer, none more illustrious, than this, in the very 
 heart and centre of Connecticdt, where shall sleep, 
 until tlie morning of the resurrection, the honored 
 
 dust of ^lANSriELD. 
 
 Note. — Wc arc disappointecl in not obtaining the earnest and appro- 
 priate Address of Govenror Eiickingham. As it was not reported, and 
 (>ntn-ely rmjjromptu, he has not been able, in the midst of his other 
 onerous duties, to devote time to recalUng it. 
 
REV. MR. TAYLOR'S DISCOURSE 
 
 LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 GENERAL MANSFIELD 
 
 SEPTEMBKll 2 8, 18G2, 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 2 SAMUEL, I. 25. 
 
 HOW ARE THE MIGHTY FALLEN IN THE MIDST OF THE liATTLE ? O, JONA- 
 THAN, THOU AVAST SLAIN IN THY HIGH PLACES. 
 
 In the construction of the ancient tabernacle, the 
 labors of the builder were guided entirely by a pat- 
 tern given to Moses in the mount. 
 
 The eminence and variety of character presented 
 in the Sacred Word leads to the thought, that 
 here may be found a model after which might be 
 fashioned those individual forms of development 
 prominent in all the various departments of human 
 society. The wisest lawgiver, the most profound 
 judge, the ablest statesman, the finished orator, 
 the sublime poet, the erudite scholar, the success- 
 ful Avarrior will here find names and characters 
 Avhich challenge his emulation and distance his 
 highest attainments. To the heroes of sacred 
 history, there has ever been awarded, in the admi- 
 
•24 
 
 ration of the world, the highest phicc in the assem- 
 bly of illustrious worth, where are enrolled the 
 names that adorn the pages of all past time. 
 
 Doubtless their fame was in part due to the 
 dark background upon which it rested ; but it was 
 chiefly the result of exalted personal merit, and 
 the peerless light which fell upon them from the 
 throne above. The age in which they lived Avas 
 marked for its departure from righteousness ; while 
 they themselves were very holy, and lived in daily 
 communion with God. 
 
 Prominent among the characters in the portrait 
 gallery which is here thrown open to us, is that of 
 Jonathan, the first prince in the house of Saul ; the 
 early, fast friend of David. And not one more 
 charms the beholder. There was such purity in his 
 friendship ; his purpose was so open and noble ; 
 his life, both public and private, so abounding with 
 disinterested labors, that he seemed an Israelite 
 indeed, in whom there was no guile. The wars 
 that distracted the kingdom of Saul during his 
 entire reign, subjected the nation to all the disci- 
 pline and hardships of such a disastrous state. 
 Jonathan was educated in this same school. The 
 camp and the sword were his inheritance : and most 
 nobly did he vindicate his right to be so intrusted. 
 The fate of manv a battle was decided bv his 
 
prowess ; and when at last he fell on the iield of 
 the slain, there was no stain of cowardice or 
 dishonor on his fair brow. In all the literature of 
 eulogy, there does not appear another tribute to 
 departed worth more tender and becoming, than 
 that bestowed upon his best friend and the brave 
 soldier, by David himself: — " The beauty of Israel 
 is slain npon thy high places. How are the 
 mighty fallen. * * From the blood of the slain, 
 from the fat of the might}-, the bow of Jonathan 
 turned not back. * * How are the mighty fallen 
 in the midst of the battle ! (), Jonathan, thou 
 wast slain in thy high places ! I am distressed 
 for thee, my brotiier Jonathan ; very pleasant hast 
 thou been nnto me. Thy love to me vvas wonder- 
 ful, passing the love of women. How are the 
 mighty fallen, and the weapons of war perished !" 
 Great was the occasion, most appreciative and 
 lofty the thought that has immortalized it. 
 
 It need not be spoken in this presence, what 
 has turned the thought of the hour to this name 
 of such merit and exaltation. Of all the charac- 
 ters that adorn and enrich the historic page of 
 sacred military fame, there seems not anotlier more 
 worthy to be regarded as the bright example after 
 Avhich our own lamented Manslield was fashioned, 
 than just this one. The eminent virtues of the 
 
26 
 
 one, were prominent traits in the life of the other. 
 So also both fell, led on by the purest devotion to 
 their country's weal, when the nation they served 
 could ill spare their marked ability ; at the head of 
 their armies, while th(3 dark tempest was still 
 passing on in its widening way of desolation and 
 death. 
 
 No nobler, or more becoming public tribute 
 could have been bestowed on the name and memory 
 of a fallen warrior-patriot, than that offered on 
 Tuesday last, at the shrine of him whom all 
 delighted to honor. The whole pageant of civic 
 and military procession seemed to have floAvcd 
 together in one spontaneous, harmonious gathering, 
 without call or premeditation ; being thoroughly 
 imbued with the one desire, to testify their deep 
 sense of sorrow in view of the irreparable loss, to 
 family and friends, state and nation, sustained in 
 the event of his death. Nothing could be more 
 grateful to surviving friendship, while passing ; 
 nothing more hallowed in the remembrances of 
 future years. Yes, the funeral scenes of the 
 twenty-third day of September, 1862, have left an 
 impression of martial grandeur, while moving on 
 to the grave of Mansfield, that will not fade away 
 to the end of this generation. In what perfect 
 harmony with the grand, moving spectacle, was 
 
27 
 
 the calm, unclouded day, the canopy of the skies 
 bending in love and mellowness, like that embrac- 
 ing the honored dead. And when the glorious orb 
 of day passed through the gates of evening, as the 
 mortal remains descended to the place of their 
 repose beneath the sod, and night, dark night, 
 closed the scene, how did nature even then seem 
 in harmony with the mournful thought of the dis- 
 persing throng, ' We shall see his face no more ; ' 
 
 " Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves, 
 Over the unreturning brave — alas ! " 
 
 A tribute no less worthy of departed excellence, 
 and in beautiful harmony with the gentle spirit and 
 silent influence of the great and good man whose 
 character and deeds had awakened such thoughts 
 of love, purity and elevation, of virtue and educa- 
 tion, in the mind of the young — was bestowed on 
 his memory on Thursday last, at the Young Ladies' 
 Seminary, where his presence had so often been 
 greeted, and his words fallen in benedictions, and 
 his hands borne gifts. 
 
 I shall hope not to disturb what has been so 
 well done, by reciting the events and memories of 
 his life. Propriety demands of us another service 
 here, in the sanctuary of our religious love. With 
 us, he has often come hither in company. Here was 
 
28 
 
 his chosen })laco of public worsliip, from whicli lie 
 was never absent when at home and in health. In 
 the hush of this Sabbath hour, let us then speak of 
 his virtues ; recall his example ; together mourn 
 our heavy bereavement ; and especially embrace in 
 'our sympathy and prayers, the family of his love, 
 where the withering blow of his death has so 
 heavily fallen. With such aids as have come to 
 us, we will delineate his life and character, and thus 
 set up our monument of grateful remembrance. 
 This, to me, is a work of love. Heavy as my heart 
 is, imder a sense of the private and public loss we 
 have sustained, 1 count it one of the imperishable 
 pleasures of my life, that I have known him and 
 shared his confidence and esteem. '■ I am dis- 
 tressed for thee, my brother ; very pleasant hast 
 thou been unto me." 
 
 Joseph King Fenno ^NLansfikld was born in 
 New Haven, December 22, 1803. He was the 
 son of Henry and Mary (Fenno) Mansfield, and 
 was the youngest of six children ; three sons and 
 thrvv daughters. Two sisters are all that now 
 remain of the family. Though born elsewhere, his 
 earliest recollections of life were with this city, the 
 residence of his maternal grand-parents, and where 
 his own home has for the most ])art been during 
 
29 
 
 his entire life. History has ever loved to record 
 the fact, when exalted merit has been the result of 
 personal eifort. Young Mansfield was early made 
 to feel that he must depend upon himself, and if 
 he held place and position, he must labor to win 
 the prize. He is remembered by those who were 
 associated with him in boyhood, and on the arena 
 of early educational strife, with very pleasing 
 recollections : 
 
 ' The child was father of the man.' 
 
 The same traits of character which distinguished 
 him in mature age, were then apparent in elemen- 
 tary forms. His thoughts were elevated and pure, 
 his bearings noble, his aspirations high. Pie was 
 diligent in the use of the means placed within 
 his reach for mental culture. His opportunities 
 in that direction were only such as the common 
 schools of his native State afforded, up to the age 
 of fourteen years. He was then transferred as a 
 cadet, to the Military Academy at West Point. 
 He completed the prescribed course of study in 
 that institution in five years. His class numbered 
 forty. He was the youngest member, yet when he 
 graduated he took the second position of honor, 
 especially distinguished for his excellence in the 
 exact sciences. 
 
30 
 
 Every man who makes a mark on his age and 
 nation has a two-fold life. One is the man in 
 pnblic, moving amidst the stirring events of the 
 honr, ])ntting his hand to great enterprises, and 
 shaping the conrse of monlding influences. The 
 other constitutes the more quiet, unobtrusive flow 
 of his being. It is marked by his private virtues. 
 It rcM^als what he is, in the narrow circle of his 
 influence. It gives us an insight into his private 
 cliaracter. his home loves. It is the man in his 
 undress, where he ai)pears without disguise. The 
 character of a man can never be faithfully revealed, 
 but by the careful study of both these departments 
 of being. Many a one has a fair record in public, 
 who needs the mantle of charity for a robe so soon 
 as he withdraws to the more retired walks of life. 
 There are those not a few, who can hold armies in 
 delightful subjection, who fail to keep themselves 
 under lawful restraints. Some can conquer cities, 
 but cannot rule their own spirits. A great man, 
 a noble soul, manifests himself to be great and 
 noble, by a faithful discharge of all the claims that 
 may be binding upon him all through the walks 
 of life, lie meets the calls of duty, come when 
 and 'wliere they may. 
 
 To understand the character of the subject of 
 these memoirs, we shall need to follow him alonsf 
 
31 
 
 the stirring events of what is well known, and 
 then in the circle of home-life. The natural 
 order is to trace first his military career. 
 
 The same year, 1822, in which young Mansfield 
 graduated, he received the appointment of hrevet 
 second lieutenant in the Corps of Engineers, of the 
 United States Army. And from that hour to the 
 time of his death at the battle of Sharpsburg — a 
 period of more than forty years — he has been the 
 devoted servant of his country. No hour of his 
 life has he been free from her commands. She 
 had only to say, Go, and he went — Come, and he 
 came. No labor, no self-denial has deterred him 
 an hour from the assigned duty. The register of 
 service actually done by him will reveal the iact, 
 that his works have been more abundant than are 
 ordinarily performed by those in his profession and 
 rank. 
 
 At the expiration of ten years of service, he 
 was commissioned first lieutenant, and three years 
 later was made captain. This was the rank he 
 held when he went to the wars of Mexico, under 
 General Taylor. His bravery was so marked and 
 his gallantry so meritorious in the defense of Fort 
 Brown, that he was brevetted major. In this 
 engagement, as well as during the war of 1846-7, 
 he was intrusted bv the General Commanding, 
 
32 
 
 with the important and responsible post of chief 
 engineer ; and he so discharged his duties as to 
 earn for himself lasting honor, and bring proud 
 success to our arms. 
 
 It is conceded on all hands, that the victory of 
 Monterey was won through his counsel and efforts. 
 In this engagement he was severely wounded, 
 and carried some of the injuries there received to 
 the day of his death. The coincidence of time 
 impresses us. At Monterey, in the battle of the 
 21st, 22d and 2;]d of September, 1846, he was 
 terribly wounded ; and during those same days, in 
 1862, his body, wounded even to death, in the 
 engagement at Sharpsburg, lay here in state, 
 awaiting distinguished honors in burial. 
 
 In five months after the battle of Monterey, he 
 had so far recovered from his injuries as to be 
 again at his post of duty. For his services, he was 
 promoted to the rank of lieutenant colonel ; and 
 at the battle of Buena Vista, where he displayed 
 the same skill and heroism as on previous occa- 
 sions, he rose to the rank of colonel, as due to 
 his merit. 
 
 In 1851, while still captain in the Corps of 
 Engineers, his name standing third on the list, 
 there were associated with him many of the officers 
 so prominent at the present time in the service of 
 
83 
 
 the Rebel and the Federal Army. Generals Hkl- 
 leck and McClellan were his associates, as well as 
 Beauregard and Lee. With what a reproachful 
 word might he have? pointed to his death-wounds, 
 and addressed each of these his old companions in 
 arms against him, " Et tu, Brute ? " 
 
 In 1853, Colonel Mansfield was selected to fill 
 the high position of Inspector General of the 
 army, and in discharge of the duties of his office, 
 visited all parts of our country, and some sections 
 many times ; being absent from home on some of 
 these visits of inspection more than a year at a 
 time. In this service he was engaged in Texas at 
 the commencement of the present sad state of the 
 country. His thorough acquaintance with the dif- 
 ferent sections of the Union enabled him to see 
 the magnitude of the increasing evil as but few 
 could do, and not one felt more deeply than did 
 he, the mortification that there was not courage 
 and strength in the Government at that period, to 
 crush the outbreaking spirit of disloyalty and 
 treason. He said a man-of-war or two might 
 have put an extinguisher on the whole bursting- 
 flame of secession, and have saved the country its 
 horrible agony of blood. 
 
 He was called home in the spring of 1861, 
 to await for a season the duties to which the 
 
 V^ 
 
u 
 
 driftins: events in the country misrht call him. 
 To make the record of his life complete, it should 
 be mentioned, that for twenty years, in the depart- 
 ment of engineering, he was erecting the fortifica- 
 tions along our extended coast. Prominent among 
 the works which he planned and superintended in 
 building, is Fort Pulaski, admitted by all familiar 
 with its strength, to be a model of its kind ; and 
 presenting a claim to be the very best defensive 
 fortification in the possession of our Government. 
 
 During some of those anxious days that followed 
 the attack on Fort Sumter, Colonel Mansfield 
 remained in town, in a state of trying suspense. 
 As the war horse, whose mettle the bugle has 
 stirred, scents the battle from afar, and longs for 
 the strife, so our friend stood looking out on the 
 disturbed elements, eager to aid, to the extent of 
 his power, in quelling them. At length, an order 
 came, assigning him duties in the north-west. But 
 he had scarcely reached his destination, when his 
 presence was demanded immediately in the metrop- 
 olis. Washington was in danger ; and to him the 
 authorities looked as the proper person to secure its 
 defense. In the meantime, there were occurring 
 those startling scenes of the ever-memorable nine- 
 teenth of April. New England blood had been 
 shed in the streets of Baltimore, and the whole 
 
85 
 
 North was in a blaze. How the heart aches, and 
 the bram fires, even now, in recollection of those 
 times and events. Colonel Mansfield, coming from 
 the west, in hopes of reaching Washington via Bal- 
 timore, found himself shut off from the railroad, 
 and was obliged to make his way on foot and alone, 
 as best he could. Those were hours when no one 
 could tell who were the friends or the foes of the 
 country. Several days were passed before he 
 worked his way through, and his rations were not 
 at all times very liberal for a private soldier. A 
 dry biscuit or cracker was all the food he could 
 obtain for one day. But the end came at last. He 
 reports himself at headquarters, ready for duty, 
 and is immediately placed in command of the 
 forces detailed for the defense of the capital. 
 
 April 30, 'Gl, the journals of the day announced, 
 "Colonel Mansfield is now in command of the 
 troops at Washington. He is an ofiicer of high 
 attainments and great experience.'' The whole 
 North seemed to breathe easier, seeing, as they 
 thought, the right man in the right place. Soon 
 the cheerful note came to us, " Washington is 
 safe." Arlington Heights were crowned with for- 
 tifications under his careful eye, and order held the 
 sceptre over the agitated city. W^hat prayers were 
 off"ered for him, — what interest felt in his behalf. 
 
36 
 
 ill those clays of solemn responsibility, when the 
 eyes of the civilized world were turned towards 
 him and the city of his guardianship, need not 
 here be spoken. May 17, he was promoted to a 
 brigadier generalship in the regular army. 
 
 There were many scenes of thrilling interest 
 occurring in every day life, while he was at Wash- 
 ington. It was a new theatre upon which the 
 nation was launched, and well-nigh every act was 
 new. Confidence in man was destroyed; life and 
 property had lost the pledges of their past security. 
 Willard's Hotel and the adjoining buildings are 
 threatened with the devouring flames. The Gen- 
 eral is called from his slumbers to battle with 
 this new foe. He quickly marshals into service a 
 company of Ellsworth's Zouaves, and they handle 
 the uncaged element as they w^ould a lamb ; by 
 their wild manoeuvres and dexterous movements 
 making the whole scene one of the most graphic 
 of its kind in history. The brave, though indis- 
 creet Ellsworth met his untimely fate in those 
 days of anxious suspense ; and in his death the 
 Government was destined to see blasted the hopes 
 it had cherished respecting the efficiency of that 
 mode of warfare which had been introduced by 
 him. Over the decayed beauty, and perished 
 expectations, and unhallowed martyrdom of the 
 
37 
 
 youthful soldier, no tear of affliction more truly 
 spoke the deep emotion of the prompting heart 
 of grief than that shed by Mansfield. 
 
 He AYas favored with many assurances of the 
 high regard in which he was held by the citizens. 
 None could have been more pleasing than that fur- 
 nished on the Fourth of July. The day had been 
 observed under his direction, in appropriate forms 
 of celebration. At the close, he found himself in 
 receipt of a superb offering of flowers, accompa- 
 nied with the following written testimonial: 
 
 FOR GENERAL MANSFIELD. 
 
 Beloved by his friends : 
 
 Esteemed and trusted by his acquaintances ; 
 
 Honored by all, as the good man, the noble and efficient officer, 
 
 the just and loyal citizen, — 
 
 May his lii'e measure many years. 
 
 He retained his command in Washington until 
 the 17th of August, 1861. Such changes were 
 then made in the military departments as led to 
 his removal from that post. He embraced the 
 opportunity which then offered to make a brief 
 visit to his family and friends, in this place, — the 
 only time he has been home since called to the 
 scenes of war. Many complaints have been 
 brought against officers and privates, that they 
 
 6 
 
38 
 
 have exhibited criminal neglect in being from their 
 posts of duty in the hour of need. No such 
 charge has ever adhered to General Mansfield. He 
 has seen the year come and go while away from 
 home, although but a few hours of distance inter- 
 vened between him and those he so tenderly loved. 
 He longed for the end of the strife, that he might 
 come home ; but while the war lasted his course 
 was plain. 
 
 On his visit referred to, we were gratified to find 
 the Christian still eminent in the soldier. He was 
 in his place in the lecture preparatory to the 
 sacrament of the Lord's Supper. The Sabbath 
 ensuing, the first in September, one year ago, he 
 partook of the sacrament w^ith us. He remained 
 during the following week — was in church one 
 Sabbath more, and returned to his public duties 
 the next Monday. While at home on this occa- 
 sion, an earnest desire was felt on the part of the 
 citizens generally, that some ovation should be 
 tendered him. The limited time of his stay pre- 
 cluded this. The late Samuel Russell threw open 
 his mansion to an impromptu gathering of his 
 friends and admirers, which doubtless was more 
 agreeable to the General's feelings than any formal 
 reception. 
 
 Mr. Mansfield has ever been in high esteem in 
 
39 
 
 this place of his residence. Of him it can be truly 
 said, ' Nowhere else has the prophet had more 
 honor than in his own country and in his own 
 house,' so rare has been the felicity of his life and 
 presence among us. Fresh in the memory of most 
 in this audience, is the scene of welcome which 
 greeted his return from the wars of Mexico. One 
 who was an actor in that hio:hlv becominsr transac- 
 tion has made this record: — 
 
 " It may well be doubted whether on any occa- 
 sion a distinguished individual has ever received a 
 more hearty welcome, or a more gratifying recep- 
 tion than has Colonel Mansfield, w^hen more than 
 one thousand of his old friends and acquaintances, 
 neighbors and fellow citizens, hastily collected 
 together to offer him a renewed tribute of their 
 esteem and respect." 
 
 The private life of our friend may be said to have 
 closed on his return to the seat of war. The year 
 that has passed since that, has found him wholly 
 absorbed in labors for the public weal. We turn 
 back, therefore, at this point, to trace the current 
 of events which delineate his life and character in 
 the narrower and less conspicuous sphere of his 
 duties. Two months after he was promoted to a 
 captaincy, he was united in marriage to Louisa 
 M., daughter of Samuel and Catharine Livingston 
 
40 
 
 Mather, of tliis city. With the exception of some 
 five years, during which they resided in Brookline, 
 Mass., their home has been here. The family 
 residence of the parents became the home of the 
 dausfhter on their demise ; so that, under the same 
 roof she has participated in her early joys and 
 later sorrows. 
 
 In 1843, July IG, death entered their family and 
 removed their second son, aged nine months ; with 
 that exception, the family has been spared the 
 visits, of the destroyer until this late great bereave- 
 ment, now stirring so many emotions. Four child- 
 ren — two sons and two daughters — survive to 
 comfort and sustain the widowed mother ; the 
 eldest of -whom has just entered the profession of 
 his father. God grant that the fallen parent may 
 appear again in the son, in all that is true and 
 noble; and may all the children live to adorn the 
 quiet circle of home life, and sustain the rich 
 inheritance which the great and good man has left 
 to his household. 
 
 Mr. Mansfield made his public profession of 
 religion on the fourth day of July, 1841. It was 
 the privilege of the late Ur. Crane, to welcome the 
 soldier in his country's service, to enrollment in 
 the grand army of the cross of Christ. The 
 thought is pleasant to us in the midst of the 
 
41 
 
 services of this hour, that they have met again, 
 and pledged their eternal friendship in a cup from 
 the fruit of the vine in the kingdom of our Father. 
 The piety of General Mansfield was the resultant 
 of a happy flowing together of a sincere trust 
 in Christ, as the only hope of salvation ; and great 
 activity in the labors of a religious calling. He 
 believed, and therefore spoke and did. He was 
 active and cheerful. He saw things on their 
 bright side : was never desponding. He had been 
 in too much service ; witnessed too much real 
 danger, to be borrowing trouble over any imagi- 
 nary evil. While careful and provident, his life 
 was a happy exemplification of the precept of our 
 Lord, — ' Let the morrow take thought for the 
 things of itself.' 
 
 An anecdote is told of him by a friend, which 
 illustrates his character in this particular. To a 
 little group of friends, he had been narrating 
 some of his narrow escapes from danger, when a 
 lady asked, "Were you not frightened]" "No, 
 Madam," was the prompt reply, " we are never 
 afraid, but we take great precautions." 
 
 It serves not a little to relieve the gloom of the 
 war scenes of earth, that so many honored servants 
 of the Lord have been found in the midst of them. 
 Awav, forever awav, Avith that sickly sentiment. 
 
4 '2 
 
 tliat ;i l)ia\e soldier cannot be a true Christian. It 
 has been said, and very justly too, that it takes 
 a very devout man, or one Avliolly indifferent to 
 religious obligation, to make a good soldier. The 
 best examples of the soldier have been found often 
 in connection with the most devout life of the 
 saint. Christ found no where else in Israel such 
 faith as in the centurion, a Koman soldier. The 
 chosen instrument for exemplifying grace to the 
 Gentile Avorld was Cornelius, the captain of the 
 Italian band. " A devout man, one that feared 
 God, with all his house, whicli yave much alms to 
 the people, and prayed to (iod alway." Headley 
 Vicars and General Havelock are honored saints 
 of later times. And to the galaxy, where around 
 the same name appear the bright honors of the 
 soldier and the virtues of the saint, we add one 
 more star to-day. 
 
 We could wish that the material and the com- 
 piler both were here, to give an enlarged and 
 permanent view^ of the character before us. "What 
 would be more suited to stir our young men with 
 a spirit of lofty patriotism and Christian heroism, 
 than to hold up to their view, the eminent virtues 
 of our own honored dead, in whom are so happily 
 blended the patriot and Christian saint and soldier ? 
 In th(> light of such an example, they would learn 
 
43 
 
 how to live ; how to be brave and noble ; how to 
 die. 
 
 Goodness is like a fountain of living waters, 
 always gushing and flowing to beautify and enrich 
 some spot. It is like the light, all pervading ; 
 ever opening up some valuable secret. It was so 
 in the character of our Christian brother. His 
 goodness was a robe in which he was adorned. 
 He was known in the streets as a good man. 
 Many an humble person fondly remembers him, 
 because he had a kind word, a pleasant smile, or 
 both, when they casually met* in the street. His 
 heart was full of tenderness and sympathy for the 
 suffering, wherever it might be found. Like 
 others who have regarded the man, irrespective 
 of the character he might bear, his alms fell into 
 the lap of suppliants freely, often 
 
 " Careless their merits or their faults to scan, 
 His pity gave ere charity began." 
 
 In the larger field of Christian beneficence, his 
 heart was enlisted with generous sympathies. He 
 gave, both from a sense of religious obligation, 
 and the rich pleasure which it imparted. From 
 the opportunities which had been afforded him, 
 he had taken a careful survey of the destitution 
 and wants of our own land, and felt that the 
 
44 
 
 Home Missionary work had special claims to his 
 regard. This was his first love. Then in the 
 circulation of the Bible he took a lively interest. 
 In tlie AVord of God he saw the palladium of all 
 that is valuable in civilization, exalted and per- 
 manent in material existence. But to mention all 
 tlio objects for which he labored and prayed, and 
 to which he contributed, the entire list of our 
 Protestant associations for giving the gospel to 
 the world would need pass in review. He believed 
 the world belonged to Christ, and that his duty 
 was, to labor together with God, to bring all 
 things in subjection to Him. 
 
 He contemplated mental education in the broad 
 light of a divine instrumentality. It was a part of 
 the gospel plan for saving the lost. That the soul 
 should be without knowledge, to him was not 
 good. Education was an ornament ; knowledge 
 Mas power. More : it opened the way for grace 
 to lead the soul into her temple of celestial beauty 
 and everlasting life. The wise might inherit 
 glory, but the companion of fools should be des- 
 troyed. With these convictions guiding him, he 
 exerted his influence earnestly on the side of 
 popular education. He took a lively interest in 
 the success of all the educational institutions in 
 this place. Seeing what others saw, the need of 
 
greater facilities for female education here, he 
 exerted himself to secure an institution of this 
 kind, which might be second to none in New 
 England. Failing in this, but not to be turned 
 aside from his high and laudable purpose, he 
 erected, with his own means, the costly and com- 
 modious edifice which is now occupied by a 
 young ladies' school every way worthy the pat- 
 ronage of our citizens. From the property thus 
 devoted, there has returned no income to himself 
 
 As to the mode of conducting educational pur- 
 suits, his idea was broad and liberal. In our 
 schools there w^as common ground ; and the mind 
 should be left to its loftiest flights, aided, but 
 not impeded by religious instruction of a merely 
 denominational kind. In his preferences for reli- 
 gious worship, he chose that form of preaching 
 which made the gospel the great theme, and 
 brought Christ and the soul most directly face 
 to face ; that w^iich made man feel he was lost 
 and needed a Saviour. 
 
 It has been said he was of the Puritan stock. 
 Nothing is more true. All the elements and im- 
 foldings of his being evinced him to be worthy of 
 such a lineage. Had he lived in England in the 
 days of the Protectorate, the Puritan cause would 
 have had no firmer friend ; its great leader no 
 7 
 
46 
 
 braver soldier. His spirit of devotion was gentle. 
 His prayers in public seemed like the pleadings 
 of a child, simple, earnest, trustful. He talked 
 with God, as one who had seen him, knew him 
 intimately, and loved liim sincerely. In the 
 praises of the sanctuary he had great enjoyment ; 
 especially, the mild and tender in divine song had 
 a peculiar charm for him. As was to be expected 
 from such a man, he promoted the interests of the 
 Sabbath school. When at home, he lingered in 
 the pleasant scenes of the opening service, and 
 sought in various ways to render it efficient and 
 profitable. 
 
 Great and good men have usually exhibited a 
 marked fondness for children. This was a leading- 
 trait in the character of Gen. Mansfield. Called, 
 as he had been, so much from his own home 
 circle, it was natural that when parent and child 
 did meet, there should be a marked and mutual 
 devotion. There is a pleasant scene which lingers 
 on the memory, opening this feature of his domes- 
 tic life. It was true of him, literally, as the 
 prophet saith : ' A little child led him.' Often 
 hand in hand with his little daughter, has the 
 great soldier been lost in the tender parent, as 
 they walked the streets in company, and paid 
 their visits from house to house. How sad that 
 
47 
 
 tlie scene is spoiled, the picture broken ! May 
 it not lose its influence on the child. May the 
 father's hand hold her still. May she and the 
 others so cherish the instruction and imitate the 
 example of the sainted parent, that again their 
 hands shall be joined in delightful and eternal 
 fellowship, to walk the golden streets of the 
 heavenly city, and be evermore at home in the 
 mansions of the blessed ! 
 
 From the nature of his profession, requiring 
 great promptness of thought and action, it would 
 be natural that he should have well-formed and 
 positive opinions on all subjects within the range 
 of his investigations. He was not, therefore, a 
 man to be bribed or cajoled. He spoke, he acted, 
 as to him seemed right. His word was law, where 
 he ought to be obeyed. Yet one never yielded a 
 point in debate more gracefully and cheerfully, 
 when argument brought conviction. He could be 
 firm as an oak ; he could be pliant as a willow. 
 
 We come now to the closing period of his life. 
 His last year of earth. He was with us in church, 
 for the last time, September 8, 1861. Knowing 
 of his departure the next morning, there was read 
 and expounded in his hearing, from the Book of 
 God, the one hvmdred and twenty-first Psalm. In 
 a panoply of heavenly love and divine protection, 
 
48 
 
 ■\ve sought to array liim to meet the imcertainty 
 of the dark future. 
 
 In the early train of the ensuing morning, he 
 was borne from view. Had we seen then what has 
 now come upon us, how we should have clung to 
 him, as Elisha did to Elijah, to await the appear- 
 ance of the chariot of Israel and the horsemen 
 thereof. 
 
 During the year, his name and deeds have been 
 associated with Fortress Monroe, Newport News, 
 and Suffolk. And it is but just to his merit to 
 say, the field of his labor has not been commen- 
 surate with his talent, or such as was due to his 
 large experience and past valorous deeds. The 
 year has been to him one of tedious monotony. 
 With the exception of the stir caused by the ap- 
 pearance of the Merrimac, and the brief naval 
 engagement which her saucy visit provoked, there 
 had opened to him no theatre where his energy 
 and powers could be brought to bear. He has 
 sighed for action in some field where ,his distressed 
 country needed men of tried service. It was there- 
 fore a positive relief when the oj'der reached him, 
 calling him to Washington, evidently looking to 
 future service, where the fate of battles was to be 
 decided. He found, on reaching the capital, that 
 a court of inquiry awaited his presence. AV'hen 
 
49 
 
 its session had closed, and he was preparing to join 
 the Army of the Upper Potomac, he was assigned 
 his old trust. The commander-in-chief ordered 
 him to inspect the fortifications about Washing- 
 ton, 
 
 While these things are passing, he greets a few 
 old friends. A brother-in-law from this State dines 
 with him on one of those anxious days. He writes 
 to his son, just recovering from sickness at home, 
 to come on and take a position on liis staff. 
 Thursday, the day he first had planned to leave 
 the city, alive to the claims of a life-long friend- 
 ship, he wrote a hurried line to Colonel Thayer, of 
 Massachusetts, " I am in great haste. I shall leave 
 to-day for McClellan's headquarters on the Upper 
 Potomac. This is only to say, if I never see you 
 again, that I have not forgotten your inestimable 
 favors to me. May God bless you in your old age, 
 and finally receive you into his glorious kingdom 
 of heavenly peace." Two days later, the very day 
 of his departure, he is dining with a friend from 
 Massachusetts. His spirits are in fine flow until 
 the hour of parting is near. His thoughts then 
 seem abstracted, and busy with their own secret. 
 Ah ! who can doubt where his mental vision then 
 rested] There doubtless rises to his view his 
 home — his beloved family ; and he longs to fly to 
 
50 
 
 their embrace once more, before meeting the perils 
 of the coming engagement : — 
 
 " While memory each scene gaily covered with flowers, 
 And restored every rose, but secreted its thorn." 
 
 He seems also to rest his eye on the dawning 
 battle-field, with premonitions of coming ill. He 
 awakes from the revery to speak the final word to 
 his friend : " I am going into battle. If I fall, 
 have my body sent to my friends in Middletown, 
 Ct."' His letters to his family of this date, tell but 
 too plainly that he was alive to the dangers that 
 were immediately before him. His closing words 
 of love are, '"AH is uncertain in the future. May 
 Heavens blessing rest upon you." On Saturday, 
 the 13th of September, he mounts his horse, and 
 starts for the battle-field. A single Aid, Capt. Dyer, 
 and a body servant, attend him. He presses on, 
 all day Sunday. We may easily imagine where 
 his pious thoughts found rest during that dreary 
 Sabbath ride, — his last holy day of earth. Did 
 they not come hither to mingle in the services of 
 the sanctuary ? Did he not catch glimpses of that 
 rest which remaineth to the people of God, 
 where there shall no more be the confused noise 
 of the warrior, and garments rolled in blood, — 
 no more ])ain. — no more death. Monday morning, 
 
51 
 
 he reaches Middletown, Md., the headquarters of 
 General McClellan, and reports himself for duty. 
 He was immediately assigned to the command of 
 General Banks's corps of eleven thousand men, in 
 two divisions, under Generals Williams and Green. 
 Two days later, Wednesday, the painfully memo- 
 rable 17th day of the month, he led his forces on 
 to battle, at the early hour of seven o'clock, A. M. 
 His practiced eye soon saw fear in the faces and 
 movements of one of the new regiments. The 
 charge of the enemy was terrible, and needed 
 courage of no ordinary kind to withstand it. To 
 inspire courage, he ordered his Aid to bring for- 
 ward General Gordon's Brigade. In the meantime 
 he pressed forward where the battle waxed the 
 hottest, to inspirit the I'altering. While thus 
 throwing all the ardor of his soul into the engage- 
 ment, at the head of General Crawford's Brigade, 
 a minie ball entered and passed entirely through his 
 body, piercing his right lung in its course. His 
 noble steed shared the fate of the battle with his 
 rider, and fell Avounded by three balls. The 
 engagement had been of but about an hour's con- 
 tinuance when these results had been reached. 
 The General was borne from the field to die. He 
 continued, however, to live for a day, and expired 
 on Thursday morning, a few minutes past eight 
 
52 
 
 o'clock. He died from exhaustion, induced through 
 loss of blood. 
 
 True to the instincts of the patriot-soldier to 
 the last, his thoughts were with the contending 
 hosts. " How goes the battle?" was his repeated 
 inquiry. " How fares it with my associates in 
 command ?" When told that Hooker and Burnside 
 had fallen, overwhelmed with grief, he exclaimed, 
 '•Too bad, — too bad." " Poor fellows, — poor fel- 
 lows." When assured that it w^as well wdth our 
 army, his joy seemed great. When the report of 
 the fallen Generals was contradicted, a weight of 
 sorrow^ seemed to have passed from his heart. 
 
 In those thoughtful, solemn hours, w'hen his life 
 w-as fast ebbing, his home and friends came up for 
 remembrance. To them he sent his love, and 
 bequeathed his mortal remams. Know-ing surely 
 that he must soon die, he went as calmly to meet 
 the all conquering foe, death, as to any of the 
 pleasant duties of his past life. '* It is the Lord's 
 will, and is all right." Plis superior ofticer, — his 
 supreme Lord, must be obeyed. Prayer gave 
 wings to his soul, to bear it up co God. And his 
 spirit of calm trust could sing, we doubt not, 
 " ' Yea, though I walk through the valley of the 
 shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art 
 Avith me. Thy rod ^nd thy staff, they comfort me. 
 
53 
 
 Thou preparest a table before me, iu the presence 
 of mine enemies.' My Lord and Father in heaven, 
 into thy hand I commend my spirit." 
 
 Kind and faithful were the attentions which 
 smoothed his passage to the tomb. The best 
 medical and surgical skill watched by his side. 
 His faithful Aid, whom he addressed as his dear 
 boy, anticipated every want, and scrupulously 
 obeyed his injunction ' not to leave him.' For- 
 getful of himself, and of his own need, as he was 
 wont, he urged the surgeons to leave him, to alle- 
 viate the wants of others. It is told of him, also, 
 that when going into battle on the morning he 
 was wounded, he was urged to put on a steel vest 
 which had been tendered to him, his reply was, 
 " No, my men have none, and I will share the 
 dangers with them." 
 
 The place of his death, henceforth a sacred spot, 
 was an old farm house consecrated to hospital 
 uses, about a mile and a quarter from the spot 
 where he fell, between Cadys\ille and Sharps- 
 burg. The railroad station from whence the body 
 was taken, is Monocacy, a short remove from 
 Frederick City. At Baltimore, Lieutenant Mans- 
 field and Hon. Benjamin Douglas, joined Captain 
 Dyer in charge of the remiains, on their way hither. 
 The news of the fallen had gone before and pre- 
 
54 
 
 pared the way for the most marked and honorable 
 attention, to be bestowed upon the remains of the 
 dead. Cities and raih'oad corporations vied with 
 each other, in offering tokens of esteem. 
 
 The passage of his lifeless remains through the 
 city of Baltimore, honored by an imposing escort 
 of cavalry, was in marked and instructive con- 
 trast with his secret and difficult escape from that 
 same city, in April, 1861, Avhen summoned to his 
 post of duty and danger, in the defense of the 
 Federal Capital. Passing on to New York, the 
 funeral cortege has a car placed gratuitously at 
 its disposal, while the tender-hearted superintend- 
 ant, with tears in his eyes, expresses his sense of 
 personal loss, and remarks that the country has 
 sustained a sore bereavement, for it has few such 
 men as Mansfield to lose. 
 
 In New York, the privilege was craved of 
 bestowing marked honor upon the dead. 'J'he 
 request was, that the body might be suffered to 
 lie in state for a day at the City Hall, for this 
 purpose ; and when those in charge felt constrained 
 to refuse, in grief and much disappointment, they 
 were told, " General Mansfield did not belong 
 exclusively to Connecticut, but to the country ; 
 and they desired to give to the country evidence of 
 their love and regard for him." A committee from 
 
55 
 
 the Board of Aldermen urged the return of the 
 sacred relics, to receive the homage of the citizens, 
 even after they had passed on their way to their 
 native State. 
 
 It is seldom that a living man, when withdrawing 
 from the scenes of his past exploits, feels the great 
 heart of popular sympathy, bearing him onward 
 with its honors and praises, as in this instance the 
 dead evoked the testimonials of highest regard. 
 Does not such regard, shown to the character and 
 memory of those who have fallen in defense of 
 their country, tell more distinctly than words could 
 do, where the heart of the people is in this great 
 struggle? Does not it say, the Union must be 
 preserved, cost Vthat it may of life and treasure '? 
 Does not every additional offering of valuable life 
 which we thus make, proclaim the hour is coming, 
 when our nation shall stand forth honored by the 
 world, as never before, loved and cherished by 
 every citizen as never before, because we saw the 
 hand of the destroyer upon it, and we rose in this 
 the might of our strength, for her defense ? We 
 saw the heel of the tyrant upon her throbbing 
 heart, and we brought all our treasures to purchase 
 her deliverance ! What is worth such a struggle, 
 such a price, all men will say, is worth possessing. 
 Oh ! when the tempest is past, and the storm is 
 
56 
 
 over, and the sky is serene as of yore — as will 
 soon be — then, to thee, my beloved land, shall the 
 honors of the earth be paid. " The sons of stran- 
 gers shall build up thy walls, and their kings shall 
 minister unto thee. The sons, also, of them that 
 afflicted thee, shall come bending unto thee ; and 
 all they that despised thee shall bow themselves 
 down at the soles of thy feet." 
 
 It has been said that Republics are ungrateful : 
 they honor not those who lay their foundations 
 and rear their institutions. But we learn a differ- 
 ent lesson to-day. Passing events assure us, the 
 tried soldier, the devoted patriot, holds a place in 
 the affections of his countrymen that nothing can 
 destroy. As honorable as are the testimonials 
 brought to the name and merit of the dead, — to 
 the spirit of those offering them, — so soothing are 
 they to this circle of bereaved friends, where rests 
 the cloud, — where deep grief bows the spirit. It 
 tells, too, what an inheritance such a deathless 
 name, such exalted virtues, is to family and 
 friends. 
 
 The end of earth, to General Mansfield, has in 
 all respects been worthy of the patriotic. Chris- 
 tian soldier. He died at his post, with all his 
 honors on, — his eyes not dimmed, nor his natural 
 force abated. He stepped from the high wave of 
 
< 
 
 earthly honor, mto the sun-wrought chariot of 
 light immortal. His name will go down the 
 coming ages of our national history, — commemo- 
 rated with Wolf, and Williams, and Warren, who 
 fell in the earlier struggles of our national history ; 
 and with Lyon, and Reno, and Kearney, and 
 a host of others, whose bones lie beside their 
 country's altar to-day ; and, what is better far, it 
 shall shine as the brightness of the firmament 
 forever and ever, in heavenly glory. Among the 
 young men of America, the word Mansfield will 
 be invested with talismanic power. As it is pro- 
 nounced, Piety, Courage and Patriotism will stand 
 forth in new and winning forms of beauty and 
 strength. In the light of it, many will discover 
 that God honors them that honor him ; that " the 
 way of the cross is the way of light." Come in 
 thy many forms, O death, and thou art terrible : — ■ 
 
 " But to the hero, when his sword 
 
 Hath won the battle for the free, 
 Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word, 
 And in its hollow tones are heard 
 
 The thanks of millions yet to be." 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
FUNERAL CEREMONIES. 
 
 The following account of the Funeral of Gen, 
 Mansfield, is taken from the Hartford Courant, of 
 September 24, 1862. 
 
 Yesterday was a day of sorrow, not only in Middletown, 
 (where the funeral took place,) but in the whole State. 
 One of Connecticut's bravest heroes was consigned to the 
 grave — Brigadier General Joseph F. K. Mansfield, killed 
 at the battle of Sharpsburg. His body having been brought 
 to Middletown, his native place, the funeral was announced 
 for yesterday, at 2^ o'clock. Business in the town was 
 generally suspended, and the stores and dwellings along the 
 route of the procession were appropriately draped in mourn- 
 ing. On every side the national colors, festooned in crape, 
 met the eye. Across the main street hung in several places 
 the American flag, also shrouded in black. Emblems of 
 sorrow were seen in all directions. 
 
 The body arrived early on Sunday morning, and in the 
 evening it was taken to the North church, of which the 
 deceased has been a member for a number of years. It was 
 placed in the vestibule, which was prepared for the purpose. 
 Flags were formed into a marquee tent, which was hung 
 with black, while garlands of beautiful flowers fell from the 
 sides. Stacks of muskets, ornamented with evergreens, stood 
 in each corner. Within this tent, resting on the flag he so 
 
62 
 
 nuich loved, and died fighting for, lay all that was mortal of 
 the hero, inclosed in a rich coffin covered with black cloth. 
 In the centre of the lid was a silver plate, with the inscrip- 
 tion : 
 
 GEN. JOSEPH F. K. MANSFIELD, 
 
 U. S. Anny. 
 
 Killed at the Battle of Shar])sburg, 
 
 September 17, 18G2, 
 
 Aged 58 years luid 9 months. 
 
 Around this was a wreath of white flowers. On the lid 
 rested the sword, sash and chapeau of the dead soldier ; other 
 flowers were lying on the coffin, and on the sides hung two 
 elegant wreaths. Over the head was also suspended a beau- 
 tiful wreath of fresh green laurel, and another reposed at the 
 feet. Here the body lay in state, in charge of the Home 
 Guard, and was visited by sorrowing crowds of friends. 
 
 At 2^ o'clock, the funeral services commenced at the 
 house by a prayer, at which only the family and relatives 
 were present. They then proceeded to the church, which 
 was tastefully draped in mourning, the family pew being 
 covered with black cloth. Arriving here, the family took 
 seats around the body, and the exercises were conducted 
 from the entrance of the church, so that all of the large 
 assemblage, who could not obtain admittance, could hear. 
 The services were opened by the beautiful chant, " Unveil 
 thy bosom, faithful tomb," which was sweetly sung by the 
 choir ; after which the pastor, Eev. Mr. Taylor, delivered an 
 excellent address, paying a justly merited tribute to the 
 Christian virtues of the departed. During his remarks he 
 feelingly alluded to a singular circumstance in the life of the 
 late General, that it was on the Fourth of July, the nation's 
 birthday, that he professed religion, and said that his whole 
 course of life had been a beautiful illustration of the happi- 
 ness he then experienced. 
 
63 
 
 The Mayor of Middletown then introduced the Hon. 
 Ebenezer Jackson, a friend of Gen. Mansfield from his boy- 
 hood, who paid a high eulogium to the departed. He Avas 
 followed by Senator Dixon, and His Excellency, Governor 
 Buckingham, who also added passing tributes of esteem and 
 respect to the memory of the deceased. These addresses 
 Avere followed by the singing of the hymn, " Oh ! weep not 
 for the joys that fade," and the concluding prayer. At the 
 close of the exercises at the church, the remains were placed 
 in the hearse, and the procession formed in the following 
 order : 
 
 Putnam Phalanx of Hartford, Maj. Silliman, 100 men. 
 
 Governor's Foot Guard of New Haven, Maj. Norton, 50 men. 
 
 City Guard of Hartford, Capt. Prentice, 65 men. 
 
 Colt's Armory Band. 
 
 Governor's Horse Guard of New Haven, Maj. Ingersoll, 120 men. 
 
 Governor's Horse Guard of Hartford, Maj. Waters, 60 men. 
 
 Third Artillery Band. 
 
 Bearers. 
 
 Mansfield Guard. 
 
 Aids of General Mansfield. 
 
 Body Servant and Horse. 
 
 Family and Relatives in carriages. 
 
 Committee of Arrangements. 
 
 Mayor, Aldermen, and Common Council. 
 
 Town Authorities. 
 
 Governor Buckingham and Staff". 
 
 Maj. Gen. Russell and Staff'. 
 
 Officers of the Army and Navy. 
 
 Military Officers off" duty. 
 
 Mayors and Common Councils of the several cities. 
 
 Strangers. Reverend Clergy, 
 
 Members of the Bar. Medical Faculty. 
 
 Faculty and Students Wesleyan University, 
 
 Professors and Students Berkley Divinity School. 
 
 Board of Education, Public Schools, 
 
 Private Schools, Odd Fellows' Society, 
 
 St. John's Society, Fire Department. 
 
 Citizens generally. 
 
64 
 
 After marching through the principal streets, they arrived 
 at the Cemetery, where, after prayer, all that was earthly of 
 the illustrious General ISIansfield was lowered into the silent 
 tomb. The Mansfield Guard then fired three volleys over 
 the grave, and the concourse sadly dispersed. 
 
OBITUARY NOTICE 
 
 The follo^ving tribute to the memory of Gen. 
 Mansfield, appeared in the Cincinnati Gazette, 
 from the pen of Edward D. Mansfield. 
 
 You will allow a friend and relative to notice briefly the 
 character and death of General Mansfield, especially since 
 there are many in Cincinnati who will remember his name 
 with interest. I think it is one of our omissions of duty, not 
 to have noticed more particularly the names and deeds of 
 those who have fallen in defense of their country. The 
 honors paid by the Greeks to their heroic dead was not the 
 least of the inspiration which led them to noble action. 
 
 Joseph King Fenno Mansfield was a younger brother 
 of Captain John F. Mansfield, who commanded the Cin- 
 cinnati Light Infantry in 1812 ; who, with his company, 
 volunteered in the army of Hull, shared the disaster of his 
 disgraceful surrender, and died of fever contracted on his 
 return. Joseph was born at New Haven, Conn. At an 
 early age, he was transferred to West Point as a cadet, where 
 he became, during his residence, an inmate of my father's 
 family. There he was ambitious, industrious, a close stu- 
 dent, excelling in the sciences. He graduated in 18.22, 
 second in his class, and was promoted in the Corps of 
 Engineers, in which he remained until he was appointed 
 Inspector General. 
 
66 
 
 For the next twenty years, he was chiefly engaged on 
 works of engineering. Among his works was the building 
 of Fort Pidaski, below Savannah. In the Mexican war he 
 was one of the most conspicuous officers, as well as ablest, 
 which that war brought into notice. He was the engineer 
 at Fort Brown, while Taylor's army was advancing from 
 Corpus Christi. He led a column (I believe of the Ohio 
 troops) at the storming of Monterey, and was there severely 
 wounded. He was the chief engineer of Taylor's army in 
 the campaigns of 184G and 18-17. He stood with General 
 Taylor beside Bragg's battery, in the battle of Buena Vista, 
 and with glass in hand, at the critical moment when General 
 Taylor was in doubt, advised him that the Mexican columns 
 were wavering, and a little more firmness would determine 
 the fate of the day. 
 
 For these important services. General Taylor and the 
 country bestowed the most signal rewards of a soldier — 
 successive brevets for distinguished conduct. He was bre- 
 vetted major for the defense of Fort Brown, lieutenant 
 colonel for the conflicts of Monterey, and colonel for merito- 
 rious conduct in the battle of Buena Vista. Few officers of 
 any army have been so distinguished for merit in the field. 
 
 After the Mexican war, he was made Inspector General of 
 the Army, and in that capacity visited every part of our 
 immense country, especially the remote posts of the army on 
 the confines of New Mexico, Utah, Washington and Oregon. 
 His last tour of inspection was in Texas, just previous to 
 the outburst of the rebellion. At that time he wrote me a 
 letter, stating what the public seemed not then to be at all 
 aware of, — that the whole South w^ould go out of the 
 Union, and the war was inevitable, — that Texas was already 
 desolated, and the ruin of that country would be complete. 
 
 Soon after the assault on Fort Sumter, commenced the 
 great drama in which he was to take a distinguished, but 
 brief and fatal part. The public heard of him as the com- 
 
67 
 
 mander of Washington City, in that trying period subsequent 
 to the battle of Bull K.un, — then at Newport News, — then 
 in command at Suffolk, Va. ; and now, as pierced through 
 the lungs, and dying on the field of Sharpsburg. It might 
 have been supposed that an officer of so much experience, 
 skill and courage, would, when military capacity was so 
 much needed, have been placed in important commands, now 
 filled by his inferiors. It is sufficient to say, that he was not 
 one of those who are constantly demanding place and reward 
 at the hands of the Government. He pleaded no political 
 influence, and left place to follow his work, not to be sought 
 after. These are not the times when silent merit takes pre- 
 cedence, or fit men are always put in fit places. 
 
 General Mansfield married Miss Mather, of jNIiddletown, 
 Ct., and has left a young family, one of whom has just 
 graduated at West Point. In his character he was upright, 
 scrupulously just, conscientious, domestic, and religious. In 
 one word, he was one of those who have not lived in vain, 
 nor died without a memory. He was one of a host of gal- 
 lant, generous men, who are dead in defense of the noblest 
 Government upon earth, and victims to the worst rebellion 
 conceived by Satan since he was hurled from heaven. If 
 they have failed in their glorious sacrifice, we may say with 
 the prophet, "The righteous are taken from the evil to 
 come." If they have succeeded, posterity will build their 
 monuments. 
 
 " The brave 
 Die never. Being deathless, they but change 
 Their country's arms for more — their counti-y's heart. 
 Give then the dead their due — 't is they who saved us."