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 MEMORIAL 
 
 BREVET BRIGADIER GENERAL 
 
 LEWIS BENEDICT, 
 
 COLONEL OF 162D REGIMENT N. Y. V. L, 
 
 FELL IN BATTLE AT PLEASANT HILL, LA., 
 
 APRIL 9, 1864 
 
 i8G7 J 
 
 ALBANY, N. Y. : ^ 
 J. MUNSELL, 82 STATE STREET. 
 1866. 
 
£4(^7 
 • 53^13 + 
 
di'psi "jfovripov, clXXdt TO'jg p^prirfToOfr dsi." 
 
 " Thbt perish not who die in Freedom's Cause, 
 Though from the bivouac or ensanguined field, 
 Thet pass away to join the glorious dead. 
 Thet live again in all their mighty deeds, 
 Their brave achievements make the notable 
 Events of time, and give development 
 to all the truer life of man on earth. 
 They are the glory of all history: 
 The ever-during monuments on which 
 Mankind engrave their lasting gratitude. 
 Those only are immortal in renown, 
 Who die in Freedom's holy cause." 
 
MEMOIR. 
 
 Colonel Lewis Benedict/ the subject of this sketch, 
 son of Lewis and Susan (Stafford) Benedict, was born 
 in Albany, New York, September 2, 1817. 
 
 His early studies were prosecuted at Aurora, Cay- 
 uga County, New York ; but his preparation for Col- 
 lege was made, mainly, at the Albany Academy. 
 
 In 1834, he entered the Sophomore class of Wil- 
 liams College, and was graduated in 1837. 
 
 Thence he went into the office of the late John C. 
 Spencer, in Canandaigua, and read Law. 
 
 Li January, 1841, he was licensed, in Albany, as 
 Attorney at Law ; and, subsequently, was admitted as 
 Counsellor in the State and Federal Courts. 
 • In 1845, he was appointed City Attorney; and was 
 re-appointed for a second term. 
 
 In 1847, he was appointed Judge Advocate General, 
 on the staff of Governor John Young. 
 
 In 1848, he was elected Surrogate of the city and 
 
 1 Afterwards Brevet Brigadier General. 
 2 
 
6 
 
 county of Albany, for the term of four years, — his 
 entire vote greatly exceeding the strength of his 
 party. 
 
 In 1849, he received the appointment of Judge 
 Advocate General, from Governor Hamilton Fish. 
 
 In 1852, and also in 1860, he was the candidate of 
 the Whig party for the Recordership of the city, and 
 shared the defeat of its nominees. 
 
 In 1854, he was appointed, by the Comptroller, one 
 of a Board, consisting of three Commissioners, charged 
 to ascertain and report concerning the pecuniary and 
 other conditions of the several State Prisons; and, also, 
 to devise laws for their better regulation and "discipline. 
 The results of the labors of this Commission are con- 
 tained in a voluminous Report made to the Assembly 
 in 1855. 
 
 In the fall of the year 1860, he was nominated by 
 the Union men of his district for Member of Assem- 
 bly, and elected; being the only Union candidate 
 returned from the county at that time. This was 
 the last public position, of a civil character, held 
 by him. 
 
 Both the beginning and the end of his life develop 
 the same characteristics, — great fondness for ease and 
 recreative enjoyments, yet with ready power to subor- 
 dinate such tastes, or repress them altogether, in 
 obedience to the claims of any serious engagement. 
 
As a boy, he was noted for his zeal and diligence in 
 study, and not less for enterprise in play. The records 
 of the Albany Academy attest his successes in com- 
 petitive examinations ; and it is well remembered, by 
 many who shared in them, how, after sweeping the 
 prizes of scholarship, he would resort to the play- 
 ground, and exhibit equal superiority in those games 
 and contests, which are alike the peril and delight of 
 robust and ambitious boyhood. 
 
 His collegiate career resembled his academic, — it 
 was successful to whatever degree he chose to make it. 
 A classmate, now President of a College, describing 
 him, saysT "It is doing injustice to none of his class- 
 mates to say, that, in mind as in person, he had no 
 superior among them all. His rank, as a scholar, was 
 high; and he could have made it higher. His mind 
 was quick and clear, and he learned with great facility. 
 His critical power was unusual, and no one could 
 detect the weak points of an argument, or the incor- 
 rect use of terms, sooner than he." He graduated 
 with distinction, and, three years afterwards, was 
 appointed to deliver the Master's Oration. 
 
 While a student of the Law, he maintained sufficient 
 ardor of pursuit to enable him to acquire a knowledge 
 of the elements of that science; but his taste for 
 general literature was decided enough to save him from 
 engrossment by studies purely professional. The un- 
 
common facility with which he acquired knowledge, 
 — the result of his quick perceptions and retentive 
 memory, afforded him intervals to indulge this taste 
 without neglecting his studies proper; and he there- 
 fore read much beside Law, and digested well what 
 he did read. His habits of critical investigation, of 
 collation and analysis, are indicated by marginal 
 annotations and references contained in his books, 
 and manifestly written as he read. Indices Rerum, 
 Diaries and Memoranda remain, that show his reading 
 to have been varied, extensive, and always careful. 
 They reveal an acquaintance with authors and topics, 
 and also preferences and prejudices in respect to both, 
 that indicate clearly the knowledge he most prized, 
 and in which he was farthest advanced. They exhibit 
 a degree of intellectual povv^er and acquirement, and 
 such peculiar mental habitudes, as might have justi- 
 fied him in adopting Literature as a profession. It 
 is, perhaps, well to say that not the slightest expres- 
 sion of fondness for the one chosen for him is recorded, 
 in any form, anywhere; and, later in life, he did not 
 scruple to say that it never was his choice. 
 
 At this time, the very atmosphere he breathed was 
 charged with informing and refining influences. The 
 intelligence, culture and social elegance that surprised 
 and delighted De Tocqueville, and made Canandaigua, 
 in his sight, the loveliest of American villages, were 
 
9 
 
 in their most exuberant condition. In the midst of 
 this affluence of opportunity he enjoyed advantages 
 not common to all, who, even like himself, had ready 
 access to the best circles of that refined society. 
 The great man who directed his legal studies, regarded 
 with much consideration the son of one of his most 
 attached and influential friends; and, being himself 
 one of the most courtly men of his day, he seemed 
 scarcely less intent on training him as a gentleman 
 than as a lawyer; and, with that view, admitted him 
 freely to the social benefits and privileges of his own 
 high position. Nor was this all. His wife, a woman 
 distinguished for high intelligence and of a singularly 
 generous and cheerful spirit, warmly seconded the 
 kind designs of her husband, and received the young 
 student almost upon the footing of a son; and 
 rewarded his scarcely less than filial regard, by a 
 supervision so tender and faithful, and counsels so 
 wise and timely, that, if they had been dispensed by 
 his own mother, they might have been accepted as 
 a fulfilment of the duties of that relation. Here 
 were presented, for his constant study and imitation, 
 not only the models of elegance and propriety that 
 held a permanent place in the niches of the house- 
 hold, but the further and inestimable advantages 
 of familiar personal association with distinguished 
 individuals, who, from all parts of the land and 
 
10 
 
 from abroad, sought the charming hospitalities of 
 that house. 
 
 On his admission to the Bar, Marcus T. Reynolds, 
 then at the zenith of his professional fame and intel- 
 lectual vigor, received him as his partner in the Law, 
 and elevated him at once to a position in the practice, 
 not attained so often perhaps as fairly earned. Other 
 connections and associations concurred to make his 
 entrance upon his professional career one of the most 
 promising that could fall to the lot of a young practi- 
 tioner. 
 
 His genial nature, cultivated intellect, fine presence 
 and courteous manners, made him a welcome guest 
 in society and soon encompassed him with friends; 
 while the ease of his circumstances, a result not more 
 of the liberality than of the pride of his father, 
 enabled him to gratify the impulses of his generous 
 spirit toward cherished companions, and to do service 
 to scores with whom he had no other relations. His 
 condition and prospects in life, perhaps enticed, as 
 well as permitted him, to regard his profession as a 
 system of intellectual exercise, rather than an instru- 
 mentality for the acquisition of wealth ; and free from 
 such restraint as a modification of the contrary idea 
 might have imposed, his general course was eminently 
 fitted to engender, and in point of fact, did engender, 
 a responsive sentiment, called popularity ; — a perilous 
 
11 
 
 tribute to a questionable virtue, but one which it is 
 scarce!}^ in the nature of man to reject. The pro- 
 prietor of the good will we are accustomed to describe 
 by that term, if himself equal to much self-denial, is 
 seldom suffered by friends, personal or political, to 
 enjoy it without putting it to use ; nor, is it likely to 
 be otherwise so long as the manifold opportunities, 
 presented by our form of polity, shall continue to 
 tempt men to avail themselves of its advantages. 
 
 Predisposed by the constitution of his mind, and 
 instructed by his professional studies, to adjust matters 
 in controversy with strict regard to the principles that 
 ought to control them, and with aims less personal 
 than a judicious selfishness might have proposed, 
 public questions possessed for him a peculiar attrac- 
 tion; partly because of their unselfish character, 
 partly because of their intrinsic importance, and, 
 sometimes, on account of the verj^ doubts and obscu- 
 rities that made them perplexing. His own right to 
 some valuable thing, encumbered or denied, might 
 have waited for vindication to some "more convenient 
 season;" but the rights or franchises of a class, or, even 
 of an individual, if not himself, were objects of prompt 
 solicitude and attention. The circle in which he 
 moved was much more occupied with matters of jDub- 
 lic concern than with its own private interests; and 
 when he retired from that to the one that enclosed 
 
12 
 
 his father's fireside, the same topics of conversation 
 were still uppermost. Of his father this is not the 
 place to speak, and this slight mention of him, which 
 it seems impossible to avoid, is altogether unsatis- 
 factory; because the occasion forbids even a limited 
 attemjDt to do justice to his character and services. 
 He was, however, a remarkable man. Rejecting 
 official distinction for himself through a long life, he 
 was, nevertheless, the intimate friend and counsellor 
 of such as enjoyed it under the auspices of the party 
 to which he was attached. There was no high council 
 of the party held during a generation, in which the 
 voice of Lewis Benedict was not heard and his power 
 not felt. His strong common sense, indomitable will 
 and irrepressible energy were conspicuous in every 
 political conflict, and when the event was decided, 
 whether favorably or unfavorably, he was constant to 
 moderate the triumphs of the party under victory, or 
 save it from despair in defeat. He devoted his time, 
 means and services, without intermission or compen- 
 sation, from early manhood to old age, to eliminating 
 and diffusing, by the agencies of his political party, 
 those great principles, which, after many processes of 
 purification and amendment, have come to constitute 
 the creed of the Union party of the country. His 
 habitudes and example may have had some influence 
 in attracting the attention of his son to matters of 
 
13 
 
 this character, — certainly there was nothing in them 
 fitted to repel it. The son sat at the feet of a political 
 Gamaliel from his youth up. 
 
 An event of no public concern, but of very great 
 interest in respect to himself, happening almost simul- 
 taneously with his entrance upon the practice of the 
 Law, had much to do with relaxing whatever hold 
 his profession had upon him, and modifying the uses 
 to which he had proposed to put his life. One object, 
 perhaps the chief, for the sake of which he had been 
 assiduous in study and was now prepared to strive, 
 suddenly withdrew its animating influence. In the 
 absence of that, all remaining incentives appeared to 
 his distempered vision less worthy than they were, 
 and they finally proved inadequate to rouse him to 
 exertion. Added to the preexisting bias, this was 
 decisive, and quickly transformed him into an actor 
 in scenes, of which, under other circumstances, he 
 might have been content to be only an interested 
 spectator. He entered, without hesitation or reluc- 
 tance, that arena over whose portals may well be 
 written, — Let all who enter here leave patient study, 
 calm thought and quiet elevation, behind. 
 
 The City Attorneyship, which he held for two 
 terms, vv^as the first political appointment that he 
 received. From that time, however, he was actively 
 and earnestly a political partisan, and appeared less 
 
14 
 
 and less in the Forum, and more and more in the 
 Committee room and upon the Hvistings. The tersest 
 record of his political labors would be the history of 
 every j)arty struggle, State or National, that occurred 
 from his entrance into political life until he joined the 
 Army. He was always a leader. He was often Dele- 
 gate to Conventions, State and County, Chairman of 
 Committees, general and local, a prolific author of 
 Addresses and Eesolutions and a frequent Speaker at 
 political assemblages. Ardent as he was in his own 
 convictions and prone to yield to impulses, yet, in 
 crises of importance, he was equal to the highest self- 
 control, and adroit in curbing in others the very 
 impatience that was consuming himself. 
 
 He was acute in his jDcrception of the qualities of 
 men, and accurate in his estimates of moral worth. 
 It is a matter of no small interest to read, now, the 
 memorials that exist of his early distrust of the 
 integrity and patriotism of some, who are infamous 
 to-day on account of the apostasy he dreaded and 
 predicted. 
 
 In this department of effort he was not without 
 occasional personal successes; although the general 
 fortune of his party, in his district, may be said to 
 have been adverse. Even when defeated, he com- 
 monly had the recompense, if such it can be considered, 
 of appearing, by the election returns, to have received 
 
15 
 
 more than the vote of the party that nominated him. 
 Some political adversaries paid him that compliment 
 when not defeated, — especially was this the case, 
 Avhen he was elected Surrogate. In his various public 
 services he manifested capabilities which provoke 
 regret that they were not also used for purposes of a 
 less general character. For some reason, the judicial 
 function of the Surrogate is not generally appre- 
 ciated, — certainly it is little spoken of, — yet there 
 is no jurisdiction within which more complex or nice 
 questions present themselves for adjudication; to say 
 nothing of the enormous pecuniary interests, and the 
 multitudinous personal rights, which are involved. 
 The clearness of his mind and the equity of his con- 
 victions receive some illustration from the circum- 
 stance that, of the many judgments pronounced by 
 him, during the considerable term through which he 
 held the office in question, but one, and that made 
 in his noviciate, is known to have been reversed by 
 any appellate tribunal. 
 
 It can hardly be necessary to say that the principles 
 and purposes for which he contended through life, 
 were essentially the same as those in defense of which 
 he died. He never wavered in his devotion to the 
 great cause of liberty and justice, especially in its 
 bearing upon his own countrymen. Descended, as he 
 was, from Puritans who planted Liberty on this 
 
16 
 
 continent, from Patriots who subsequently achieved 
 American Independence, and the son of one of the 
 most energetic and persistent of the founders of a 
 party, organized to preserve both, when both were 
 threatened, his life was the natural result of his 
 instincts, and his death attests the sincerity of his 
 convictions and unselfishness of his patriotism. 
 
 He was early convinced that the Slaveholders 
 meant war, and prepared his mind for that issue. 
 He also regarded all attempts to conciliate them as 
 very much worse than futile, and addressed himself 
 to persuading others not to rel}^ on efforts in that 
 direction. Early in December, 1860, writing to a 
 friend connected with the Government, he said: 
 "The feeling here is that one concession would but 
 pave the way for another, until, without saving the 
 Union, public sentiment would be demoralized." This 
 he believed with the earnestness of a deep conviction, 
 and on all occasions spoke and acted in the faith of it. 
 As the Kebellion became systematized and aggressive, 
 the spirit of resistance rose within him, and he toiled 
 hard to arouse his fellow citizens to a sense of the 
 existing necessity to provide for the public defense 
 by suitable military preparation. The then Adjutant 
 General of the State, John Meredith Read Jr., bears 
 testimony to the cordiality and energy with which 
 he seconded the efforts of the State Administration 
 
17 
 
 to induce the Legislature to put the State on a war 
 footing immediately upon its assembling. General 
 
 Read writes: " Early in the month of January, 
 
 1861, when Governor Morgan, with wise forethought, 
 was endeavoring to impress upon the Legislature the 
 immediate necessity of placing the State of New York 
 on a war footing, General Benedict was found ready 
 to urge, with all the force of his natural eloquence, the 
 arming of the State to meet the impending crisis. 
 He comprehended the importance of prompt action, 
 and anticipated the coming conflict." 
 
 He not only believed that war could not be escaped, 
 but he estimated the dimensions of the struggle in a 
 manner not common at that time; and, although he 
 hailed with joy the call of the President for Volun- 
 teers, he did not conceal bis disappointment at the 
 meagreness of the number called for by the Procla- 
 mation. Writing, a few days after the issuing of that 
 paper, he said: "The sentiment of the North is not 
 satisfied by the present call for troops. The Govern- 
 ment would be justified in demanding three hundred 
 thousand, and the men would respond with delight. 
 It is time we should exorcise from our breasts those 
 gentle spirits, brotherly love and fraternal regard, and 
 substitute implacable determination and stern justice 
 in their place. -^ "^ '•' We have been wronged; 
 insulted and betrayed, by false brethren, — the flag 
 
18 
 
 of our Union disgraced and our true brethren slain." 
 This was addressed to a member of the Adminis- 
 tration. 
 
 Upon this call, Governor Morgan, by a special 
 message, requested the action necessary on the part 
 of the Legislature; and the Legislature responded by 
 "An act to authorize the embodying and equipment 
 of a Volunteer Militia, and to provide for the Public 
 Defense," passed April 16, 1861. This Act authorized 
 the enlistment of thirty thousand men, and appro- 
 priated three millions of dollars for that purpose. To 
 the perfecting and passing of this measure Colonel 
 Benedict devoted all his energies. Loyal men 
 abounded in the house, and many, as ardent as him- 
 self, labored as zealously to the same end — still a 
 minority was there also, whose hostility to warlike 
 preparation was active and skilful enough to tax 
 severely the strength and resources of the friends of 
 the opposite policy. In debate, a member interrupted 
 him thus : " I wish to ask the gentleman a question, — 
 If I imbrue my hands in my brother's blood, do I 
 thereby promote the cause of Liberty?" Mr. Bene- 
 dict: "I will answer that question. Yes, Sir! I do 
 promote the cause of Liberty by slaying even my 
 brother, if, with traitorous and parricidal hand, he 
 dares to tear down the flag of our common country ! " 
 
 It was largely through his instrumentality that the 
 
19 
 
 selection and appointment of the officers of the organ- 
 izations contemplated by the Act were directed to be 
 made, according to Sec. II. Art. 11 of the Constitu- 
 tion, — the import of which was, that the force should 
 have a voice in the choice of officers to command it. 
 His motive to this action was both misunderstood and 
 misrepresented at the time. Distrust of the Execu- 
 tive was not, on his part, an element of it. The fact 
 was that gentlemen of the opposite party assured him 
 that they would at once proceed to recruit regiments, 
 if the men they might raise were allowed to nominate 
 their own officers; and that they would not do so on 
 any other condition. His object was to raise the 
 troops in the shortest possible time, and this seemed 
 to him fitted to promote that end. It will hardly be 
 doubted, now, that it did promote it. 
 
 He had been a spectator of the return of the Vol- 
 unteers from the Mexican War, and never forgot how 
 forlorn Avas their condition, when, mustered out of 
 service, they were abandoned, without means to leave 
 the spot whereon. they Avere discharged, far from the 
 homes whence they had volunteered. That remem- 
 brance prompted him to offer an amendment, Avhich 
 was adopted, forbidding the discharge of Volunteers 
 under the Act, elsewhere than in the counties Avherein 
 they had enlisted, "unless by his or their consent." 
 
 The action of the Legislature, however, did not 
 
20 
 
 come up to his idea of the exigencies of the case. 
 Many causes conspired to move his feelings deeply, 
 and he was provoked to express them with less than 
 his usual moderation. On the adjournment of the 
 Legislature, he had written: "Had my advice been 
 followed, we should now have ten thousand Volunteers 
 to send to protect Washington; but we begin to be 
 ashamed of our tardiness to respond to the demands 
 of the General Government." 
 
 The attack on Fort Sumter had exasperated him 
 sufficiently, but the slaughter of Union troops by the 
 traitors of Baltimore, and the cutting off of commu- 
 nication with the National Caj)ital, greatly increased 
 his indignation. He chanced, at this juncture, to 
 visit the State, whose hills and valleys could not be 
 looked upon, nor its people communed with, by any 
 lover of his country or of freedom, without having 
 both his fervor and his courage increased by the recol- 
 lection that its soil had been "drenched to a mire in 
 the first and best blood of the Revolution;" as well as 
 by the fact that its blood was again flowing, — the 
 first shed in the cause of an imperilled Union. He 
 wrote, Aj)ril 25th, to a friend connected with the 
 Government : "I am in New England for a short visit, 
 and have imbibed the spirit of determined patriotism, 
 which is breathing over every city, town and hamlet, 
 within the borders of Massachusetts. 
 
21 
 
 "There is much apprehension, growing out of con- 
 tradictory reports, as to the movements of troops, — 
 the strength at Washington and the fate of the Capi- 
 tal. * * * 
 
 "Order Wool to widen the streets of Baltimore, so 
 that our road to the Capital will be free. Trust no 
 Southern man who is a Unionist politician. They 
 have played a game with our Peace Conferences, and 
 have lulled the North to sleep, while the South 
 perfected its traitorous designs. 
 
 " If the troops in Washington are beaten, the Admin- 
 istration had better resign; because you can have a 
 million of men by calling for them. There is power 
 here to crush out treason, — do not 2:)ec'k it to pieces." 
 
 While in the Legislature, it was intimated to him 
 that the Colonelcy of one of the early regiments 
 would probably fall to him, if the power to appoint 
 were left with the Executive. For reasons already 
 stated, he preferred another mode; but, under no 
 circumstances, would he have accepted such a commis- 
 sion. In his own judgment, he was not sufficiently 
 advanced in military science to qualify him to be a 
 safe trustee of the lives of a thousand men. So 
 strongly was he impressed with this idea, that, even 
 when a Lieutenant Colonel in the service, he was 
 induced by reason of it, to decline promotion, when 
 actually tendered to him. 
 
22 
 
 A previous connection with the City Cavahy 
 inclined him to the opinion that, in that branch of 
 the service, he would soonest attain to such a degree 
 of proficiency as would best secure the object to 
 which he aspired. For this purpose he applied to 
 the Governor for the necessary authority to recruit a 
 regiment of Cavalry. This application was denied, 
 in deference to the opinion of Lieutenant General 
 Scott, that no such force was needed; although it 
 was notorious, at the time, that the public enemy 
 might aptly enough, have been symbolized by a 
 Centaur. Accepting the consequence that loyalty 
 must walk while treason rode, and resolute in his 
 determination to enter the service, he left Albany, in 
 June, to prosecute a search for some position not 
 above his military qualifications. 
 
 The New York Fire Department, having made 
 some progress toward recruiting the 2nd Fire Zouaves, 
 conferred upon him the Lieutenant Colonelcy of the 
 proposed regiment. A series of untoward events 
 obstructed the processes of organization, and produced 
 dissension among the officers, and despondency, as 
 well as ill feeling, among the men. In the midst of 
 the complications, inevitable from complete antago- 
 nism of purposes and interests, because many agreed 
 in esteeming and cherishing him, who could be 
 brought to agree in nothing else, and as it seemed 
 
23 
 
 favorable to a general pacification, he was strongly 
 urged to take the Colonelcy. For the second time he 
 denied himself promotion, on the avowed ground that 
 his military education was not equal to the just 
 demands of such a rank. About this time, in a letter 
 to his father, he said : " I have followed your advice 
 about study, or rather anticipated it ; for, since my 
 determination was formed to take an active part in 
 the war, I have felt that one assuming any command 
 incurs a grave responsibility. My reading, before I 
 left home, was military to some extent, and I have 
 occupied the intervals of duty in studying the Tactics 
 adopted for our army. I trust I feel, to a proper 
 extent, the impossibility of understanding any science 
 without study of the authorities that teach it; and 
 you may rest assured that, to the limit of my capacity, 
 I shall master the business I am about to engage in. 
 A chief difficulty among officers has been, I appre- 
 hend, a failure to acquire the respect and confidence 
 of their men ; attributable, perhaps, to frequent and 
 protracted absences from camp, which has suggested 
 to the men that they were not properly cared for. 
 Having this idea, when I go to camp, I shall steadily 
 remain there, giving all my leisure to study and 
 appropriate reading." He not only redeemed this 
 promise at this camp, but maintained the habit 
 throughout his entire military service. 
 
24 
 
 His declining to take this command, however, brought 
 no alleviation of his labors, by transfer of them to 
 a superior officer. He was busy, literally, night and 
 day, in camp or at New York, striving to bring order 
 out of confusion and compose strifes in relation to the 
 regiment. By reason of its being involved in the 
 troubles concerning the Sickles Brigade, Washington 
 was frequently the theatre of severe exertion. It 
 seems strange now, familiar as we are with bounties 
 of a thousand dollars for an individual recruit, that 
 one of the labors in the case was to induce the 
 Government to accept the regiment. The interven- 
 tion of the disaster at Bull Run increased his indig- 
 nation, while it inflamed his zeal; and the alarm and 
 depression in high quarters consequent upon it, not- 
 withstanding the lofty speech and bearing of the 
 people, and the unaccountable hesitation in the same 
 quarters to accept troops, in presence of so manifest 
 a need of them, presented contrasts that quite con- 
 founded him. 
 
 In contemplation of the departure of some New 
 York regiments for the seat of war, — his own among 
 the number, — July 23d, he wrote: "I trust that some 
 courage will be communicated to our scared Adminis- 
 tration, which has taken possession of the Telegraph 
 lest the terror of Washington infect the country. 
 What a mistake ! The heart of the North is indeed 
 
25 
 
 wounded by the disgrace of our fear-stricken army; 
 but I know, by my own feelings, that it is embold- 
 ened by the crisis, and, less than ever, will blench 
 from the contest." 
 
 With a more correct knowledge and wiser appre- 
 ciation of the causes of that disaster, his views under- 
 went some modification; at least so far as the 
 responsibility of the rank and file was concerned; 
 but with any thing but abatement in respect to his 
 own class, — the officers. He said: "I have been 
 mortified, not by our want of success, — for that may 
 happen to the bravest of men; but at the fear which 
 caused flight from no pursuer. The fault is not with 
 the men; but it undoubtedly arose from want of a 
 proper understanding of the respective duties of 
 officers and men, and a general distrust among the 
 rank and file of the capability of the officers. Now 
 that the circumstances are correctly known, I can see 
 that, ^out of the nettle. Danger, we shall pluck the 
 flower. Safety.' 
 
 "This war has been regarded, hitherto, too much 
 as a holiday aflair, and many have rushed into it as 
 they would have gone to a pic-nic. No man can fight 
 with levity or indifference in his heart, certainly not 
 to his utmost effectiveness. It impressed itself pain- 
 fully on my mind, when in Washington, that our 
 army had not the proper tone. Sternness should 
 
26 
 
 take the j)lace of a reckless frivolity, which seemed 
 too prevalent. 
 
 "We need good officeTs. We have a fine army, — 
 gallant, stout, hardy men, but undisciplined. With 
 drill, they can only fail by being badly led. We 
 have not much military knowledge, but plenty of 
 brave ambitious men, God forgive a man who will 
 vault his ignorance into a high command. This is 
 not the occasion for self-sufficient men. They should 
 cling to civil pursuits, where blunders do not cost 
 human life. * * * j trust the right man will 
 not much longer be excluded from the right place, 
 and the wrong one retained there, lest the exercise of 
 wisdom shall wound somebody's feelings. 
 
 "Above all, I hope that the necessities of the time 
 will incline the Administration to accejDt with grati- 
 tude the reinforcements Patriotism is ofiering to the 
 cause, and no longer afflict the sensibilities of willing 
 men, by dispensing, as a favor, the liberty to fight for 
 our institutions." 
 
 A question, prolific of contention, was whether the 
 2nd Fire Zouaves should retain their original inde- 
 pendence of association, or become the 4th Kegiment 
 Excelsior Brigade, under General Daniel E. Sickles. 
 There was another concerning the Colonelcy, which 
 created much feeling and excited partisanship). With 
 these pending, the regiment was ordered to Wash- 
 
27 
 
 ington, where it arrived on the 24th of July. It was 
 a month before the vexed questions, appertaining to it, 
 were definitely settled. That concerning its disposi- 
 tion was decided by the General commanding, August 
 25th. In view of the premises, he decided that it 
 justly belonged to the Excelsior Brigade, and ordered 
 it to report to General Sickles. The War Department 
 remitted the other for settlement to the commissioned 
 officers of the regiment; and they, by a formal election, 
 chose William R. Brewster, late Major of the 28th 
 N. Y. S. M., to be its Colonel. They also reaffirmed 
 their former choice of Lieutenant Colonel and Major. 
 
 Within four or five days after this, the regiment, 
 having completed its equipment, was ordered to join its 
 brigade, then at Good Hope, Maryland, forming part 
 of Hooker's Division. It assisted in building the three 
 forts, named, respectively, Carroll, Stanton and Greble, 
 to command the approaches to Washington from the 
 South. It was known as the 4th Excelsior Regiment, 
 2d Brigade, Hooker's Division; but later, in conse- 
 quence of a failure to procure recognition as United 
 States Volunteers, it acquiesced in being designated by 
 the State of New York, and thenceforth was called 
 the 73d Regiment New York Volunteer Infantry. 
 
 The winter was spent, mainly, in picket duty; 
 having for its object the prevention of intercourse 
 between the Rebels on that side, and their far more 
 
28 
 
 insidious and dangerous friends and sympathizers on 
 this side, of the Potomac, and also the protection of 
 the navigation of that river. It was found necessary 
 to change the locality of the camp frequently; always 
 a task of severe labor to the unskilled soldiers, and 
 generally of intense discomfort, owing to frequent 
 rains and the effect produced by them upon the 
 peculiar soil of the country. The roads were not 
 only rendered impassable, but the surface generally 
 would become so softened that, at times, there was 
 hardly enough firm ground to permit drilling. Still, 
 when that exercise was practicable, it was pursued 
 with great industry; and, notwithstanding this and 
 other disadvantages, the regiment improved rapidly. 
 Before the winter was over Colonel Benedict and 
 the men came to know, and very accurately to esti- 
 mate, each other. He spoke well of them, and kindly 
 to them, and they strove to justify his commenda- 
 tions, and repaid his watchful regard by significant 
 tokens of respect and gratitude. He wrote of them: 
 "Our regiment never looked so well as it did 
 to-day on inspection. I love it. Its wild boys are 
 full of ardor and activity, and growing out of their 
 careless ways. The prospect of active service has 
 brightened them up, and they are becoming ambi- 
 tious to look well. Contact and contrast with other 
 troops will stimulate them to excel; and they can, if 
 
29 
 
 they try, they have so much rude intelligence, until 
 now, misdirected." 
 
 His knowledge of the most potential means to 
 influence men, — the result of his almost intuitive 
 perceptions and long experience in the use of such 
 appliances on a more peaceful theatre, — served him 
 efficiently in this new sphere of action. With a firm 
 belief that the interests of the public service were iden- 
 tical with those of the regiment, he found it possible 
 to indulge the humane impulses of his nature, while he 
 executed the suggestions of his best judgment, and 
 made more acceptable, while he strengthened, his 
 naked military right to command, by investing it with 
 appeals and claims to respect that were neither legal 
 nor technical, but perhaps stronger than either. He 
 earned the regard and confidence of the regiment, by 
 kind and considerate treatment, and was rewarded 
 by a certain alacrity and cheerfulness of obedience, 
 which is commonly rendered to authority, when it is 
 exercised without caprice or inhumanity. His first 
 campaign was against the hearts of his own men, and 
 the completeness of his conquest was demonstrated by 
 daily incidents while he held his place in the regiment; 
 and never more touchingly than on the last day, when 
 some of his "wild boys" preferred to share the horrors 
 of a Rebel prison with him, rather than leave him in 
 his helplessness on the field of Williamsburg. 
 
30 
 
 While he urged upon them sanitary regulations and 
 habits of order and cleanliness in camp, and even 
 used compulsion, when necessary, he recompensed 
 voluntary and meritorious service in that direction by 
 his public approval and incidental favors. He did 
 not disdain to concern himself with their more trivial 
 interests, and invited them to apply to him for aid 
 and counsel; assuring all who thus applied of the 
 sincerity of his proffers, by his prompt and willing 
 attention to their requests. He spared neither en- 
 treaties nor expostulations to reclaim the vicious and 
 intemperate, and commended to the profuse and 
 improvident the duty of moderation and economy, 
 endeavoring to allure all to better courses by offering 
 his favor as a recompense, and never withholding it 
 when it was deserved. In such as held those relations, 
 he awakened remembrances of family and friends, 
 and pleaded the claims of natural affection and duty 
 with so much effect, that a very considerable part of 
 their pay was remitted to distant fathers, mothers, 
 wives and children, which, but for his interposition, 
 would never have gone beyond the sutler. In the 
 most reckless and degraded, hopeful that some spark 
 of manhood might lie hidden in the ashes, he strove 
 to kindle an idea of self-respect, by demonstrating to 
 their incredulity, that, to him at least, they were still 
 objects worthy of care and encouragement, and, by 
 
31 
 
 suitable means, he fortified and increased the sentiment 
 in such as were not altogether without it. A striking 
 exemplification of the nature of the impression his 
 deportment made on the men, is afforded by that of a 
 sobriquet they bestowed upon him. The appellation, 
 neither euphonious nor elegant, and perhaps somewhat 
 rude, was, nevertheless, deferential and affectionate, 
 and incapable of being misunderstood, seeing it is void 
 of more than one meaning, though it warmly expresses 
 that, — that the care and protection it implied and 
 confessed was fatherly in its character. The custom of 
 soldiers thus to mark their appreciation of the officers 
 who command them, is too common to make this an 
 exceptional occurrence; and it happens frequently that 
 a truer idea of the character of a commander is 
 furnished by such a testimonial than by his eulogist 
 or biographer. One of the men, writing from his 
 camp, after paying a well-merited tribute to the 
 soldierly character of Colonel Brewster, says of the 
 Lieutenant Colonel: "His kindness to the men has 
 often been proved and in various ways, and he seems 
 to devote his whole time to devising means to 
 facilitate their comfort and make them perfect in dis- 
 cipline." So much vigilant kindness, beside its moral 
 results, produced some of another character, perhaps 
 as remarkable as they were beneficial. The regi- 
 mental hospital, for the most part, was tenantless, 
 
32 
 
 during the winter, and not a man was lost by sickness; 
 while other camps, standing on the same soil and 
 covered by the same sky, were scourged by disease and 
 dotted their cemeteries with graves. 
 
 His views and practice on most points, whether of 
 discipline or camp economy, were in full harmony 
 with those of his commanding officer ; and it was well 
 for the regiment that these wholesome moral and 
 sanitary measures, involving sometimes unwelcome 
 restraints, came to it under a knowledge that they 
 were approved by both. Colonel Brewster, on receiv- 
 ing intelligence of his death, said : " His influence 
 and exertions were always given to elevate the tone 
 and standard of the volunteer service in camp." 
 
 As the Winter waned, the efficiency of the regiment 
 increased ; and when the Spring came, it was attended 
 by rumors as welcome as its blossoms. They ran, 
 that the time of service was at hand. The condition 
 of the " wild boys " filled him with hope and confi- 
 dence. He wrote : " The regiment, I think, will 
 never run, and the men are smart enough in mind 
 and body to make a good fight." The rumors, how- 
 ever, were not consistent, and he was often perplexed 
 by their diversity. His letters at this period show 
 that he meditated much upon the causes and objects 
 of the war, and, also, analyzed carefully his own 
 motives in taking part in it. " It is also said," he 
 
33 
 
 wrote, "that we will be sent to reinforce Burnside, 
 which will suit me, if he is to advance toward Rich- 
 mond. If, however, he is to penetrate North Carolina, 
 I do not so much desire to be with him, for I have 
 some reason to believe that State not wholly SecesJi ; 
 while I know the whole of Eastern Virginia is rotten 
 with Rebellion, and filled with victims to human 
 bondage ; whose chains I might assist in breaking by 
 faithful performance of my duty as a soldier. The 
 hatred of oppression contends with love of country for 
 mastery over me. I think, when I serve the one, in 
 this war, I am entirely loyal to the other." 
 
 For some, and especially for one with whom, upon 
 the close of the war, he proposed to unite himself in 
 the tenderest of human relations, he had such words 
 as these : " My joy would be unalloyed but the 
 thoughts of your apprehensions detract from the 
 pleasure with which I hail the prospect of being 
 serviceable in striking down this Slavery Rebellion. 
 * * -If With the dear ones at home, sustained 
 under this trial, I shall feel the blood stir heroically 
 in my veins as I make my first essay in arms. *• 
 Keep a brave heart. I feel firm as a rock, and am 
 capable of dying for my country, if she needs my 
 poor life." 
 
 It was not until April 5th, that the 73d left the 
 shores of Maryland, embarking then on a steamer, 
 
34 
 
 from which it was landed, on the 11th of the month, 
 near the mouth of York river, Virginia. Hence it 
 proceeded, with its Brigade, to take part in such 
 operations of the siege of Yorktown as were com- 
 mitted to the charge of Heintzelman's Corps, which 
 operations comprised a principal share of the entire 
 labor of investment. 
 
 Though greatly fatigued and worn by severe picket 
 and trench duty, the 73d was vivacious enough to be 
 the first to plant its colors on the ramparts of York- 
 town, on the morning of Sunday, May 4th, the enemy 
 having evacuated the place during the previous night. 
 
 The surrender of this fortified place, without a 
 struggle, was not expected ; and, deeply impressed by 
 the grave contingencies inevitable to the issue he 
 anticipated, he wrote thus to his mother on the 2d of 
 May : " I am pained to learn that so much appre- 
 hension for my safety is mingled with the gratification 
 you feel at my being in a position to do service to my 
 country. I know it is impossible for a mother to 
 forget her son ; but I would, if I could, inspire you 
 with the pride I feel in devoting my life to the cause 
 of Freedom and the Union. Thus far, though I have 
 endeavored to do, so far as my frail nature would 
 permit, my duty to man, I know I have not forgotten 
 myself as I should, in many instances, have done; 
 but, in the struggle soon to be inaugurated here, the 
 
35 
 
 opportunity will be given me to furnish unmistakeable 
 evidence that I am animated by the noblest senti- 
 ments ; — that I can resign life, which I love, that my 
 country may again enjoy the blessings of peace and 
 the development of its beneficent principles of govern- 
 ment. Politically acting, I have sought its weal; 
 personally, my life belongs to it in its woe ; so I view 
 the result of the battle with complacency. If I 
 survive, as I hope I will, no fortune in future life can 
 destroy my consciousness of having perilled life for 
 right ; and, if I fall, through all the grief you and our 
 dear ones will feel, will breathe the consolation, that 
 I was a soldier fighting in a just cause. Let that 
 feeling, dear mother, console you, as it reconciles me 
 to this war." 
 
 The retreating enemy made a stand at Williams- 
 burg within the second line of works above Yorktown. 
 The bastioned fort, Magruder, and thirteen other 
 formidable earthworks, could only be approached 
 through an abatis of felled trees, five hundred feet in 
 breadth. Behind them, as was then supposed, two- 
 thirds of the whole rebel army confronted the Union 
 forces. At noon on Sunday, May 4th, Hooker's 
 Division started in pursuit. The 2d Brigade marched 
 about eight miles and bivouacked in the woods. It 
 rained hard during the night, and by daylight the 
 roads had become nearly impassable, and the men 
 
36 
 
 drenched, weary, hungry and cold. At 6 A. m., 
 Monday 5th, the rain still falling in torrents, the 
 pursuit was resumed; and about 7 J A. m., the 1st and 
 3d Brigades encountered the enemy. The 2d Brigade 
 (Excelsior) was posted in reserve; and the 1st and 
 3d Brigades having been forced back by overwhelming 
 numbers, after some hours of hard fighting, it was 
 ordered into action. 
 
 This is not the place or occasion to assume to 
 decide the manifold controversies to which the origin 
 and conduct of the battle of Williamsburg gave rise; 
 but of facts, which appear clear through the smoke 
 and dust of the contention, it may not be improper to 
 record one or two. Hooker's Division was left, with- 
 out support, from early morning until nearly nightfall, 
 to contend with a vastly more numerous force, protected 
 by formidable defences, while General Sumner was 
 aware of the situation, and his corps of 30,000 men 
 was lying supinely within hearing of the thunder of 
 the unequal contest; the main body of the Army of 
 the Potomac being all the while within four hours 
 march of the same point, and the commanding Gene- 
 ral McClellan not arriving on the field until near the 
 close of the battle. Hooker lost 1 in 6; — a loss 
 proportionate to that of the Allied armies at the 
 Alma, — the bloodiest battle in modern European his- 
 tory; and exceeding that of Wagram, the most fatal 
 
37 
 
 of all the battles of Napoleon, which was 1 in 8. 
 The Excelsior Brigade went into action with about 
 2400 men and lost 773, — about one half of the entire 
 loss sustained by Hooker's Division. 
 
 Hooker's left was the point that the Rebel General 
 in command, Joseph E. Johnston, especially desired 
 to turn, and throughout the day it was vehemently 
 and persistently assailed. It was also the point that 
 Hooker, aware of its importance, determined should 
 not be turned, and hence the desperateness of the 
 fighting. The 73d and 74th New York, the last 
 remaining regiments of the reserve, were moved 
 up to reinforce the left. It was in the execution 
 of this purpose that Lieutenant Colonel Benedict 
 was taken prisoner. Colonel Brewster, of his regi- 
 ment, wrote: "From the position in which I last 
 saw him, which was upon the extreme left of the 
 regiment, where we were driven back some time 
 before the right and centre gave way, I think he must 
 have been taken prisoner at that time. He was at 
 the head of the line encouraging the men, driving up, 
 with pistol in hand, those who seemed inclined to 
 hang back, and acting in the bravest manner." A 
 correspondent of the New York Tribune, writing from 
 the field, said: "I have just returned from the spot 
 where Lieutenant Colonel Benedict was taken. It 
 is in the densest heart of the ahatls and close in front 
 6 
 
38 
 
 of the rifle pits. The bark of the trunks and 
 branches of the trees are checquered white with 
 musket bullets and grape. The idea prevailing in 
 his regiment is that he got to the front, that a charge 
 drove his men back, and he was captured for his 
 exchangeable value instead of being killed." His 
 own account, written from Libby Prison, was: "My 
 horse was wounded early in the fight, though I rode 
 him sometime afterward. After I dismounted, we 
 made our way into the felled timber, and when our 
 line was broken, I was taken prisoner." 
 
 A principal cause of his capture became known 
 afterwards. While in Maryland his horse had fallen 
 with him, seriously injuring his foot and ankle. He 
 was unable to walk without suj)port, when he went 
 into action at Williamsburg, and the general judg- 
 ment of his men was that he was unfit to take the 
 hazards of the battle field. So long as his horse 
 served his purposes of locomotion, he did j)retty well; 
 but the moment he dismounted, he was at great 
 disadvantage. The abatis of felled timber through 
 which he was aided to clamber, in order to reach 
 the open field beyond, which was studded with rifle 
 pits, was more than four hundred feet in breadth; and 
 when he and his men were overwhelmed by the enemy, 
 it presented an insurmountable barrier to his retreat. 
 There is reason to believe that some who were cap- 
 
39 
 
 tured with him, might have escaped, as others of their 
 comrades did, but that they were unwilling to abandon 
 the idol of their camp, when he was too lame to move 
 without assistance. Such certainly was his own idea; 
 for, a few days later, while in prison in Richmond, he 
 contrived to get into the hands of those men, who 
 were released on parole, a slip of paper containing 
 these words: "Good-bye and good luck to the 73d 
 New York Prisoners! It pleases me more to have 
 you free than it would to be released myself; for I 
 know, if it had not been for my helplessness, you 
 would not be here. If you see any of our regiment, 
 remember me to them. Good-bye and God bless you ! " 
 From Williamsburg he was hurried to Richmond 
 as rapidly as his condition permitted. On his way 
 thither he was fortunate enough to be in the custody 
 of humane and placable foes; who, in consideration of 
 his inability to walk, suffered him to ride on horse- 
 back. The condition of affairs within the enemy's 
 lines inspired him with the utmost confidence that 
 he would be recaptured by Union troops before he 
 could be transported to Richmond. On every side 
 evidences abounded that the enemy felt himself utterly 
 defeated, and was concerned about nothing so much 
 as providing for his own retreat. His reasonable 
 expectation was not, however, realized; and on the 
 9 th he found himself, with many other Union officers. 
 
40 
 
 in the Rebel Capital, shut up in a filthy pork-packing 
 establishment, since recognized and cursed as the 
 LiBBY Prison. Here he was first insulted and plun- 
 dered. 
 
 A natural consequence of the physical exertions 
 compelled by the exigencies of battle and capture 
 was, that the injured limb became immoderately 
 swollen, and the seat of excruciating pain. It was 
 always a pleasant recollection to him, and it still 
 abides with his friends, that in this condition he 
 received much kindness and attention from his fellow 
 prisoners, some of whom were well known to him, 
 who seemed to forget their own misery in assiduous 
 attempts to alleviate his. The value of their self- 
 sacrifices will be better appreciated by recalling the 
 circumstances under which they were offered. It 
 would not be much to yield a window in most places, — 
 it was much to do so in Libby. The then condition 
 of that Bastile was thus described by another of its 
 captives: "a foul den, formerly used as a pork-packing 
 room, the floor covered with grease inches thick, 
 saturated with salt, damp as a vault, the sun never 
 entering; seventy men and officers closely packed; 
 cooking, washing and every necessary duty performed 
 in a space seventy by forty-two feet. No officer is 
 allowed to leave the room on any j^retence whatever; 
 no papers allowed to be procured nor books to be 
 
41 
 
 read; beneath us a stable occupied by the horses of 
 the Rebel officers; above us, the stories are occupied 
 by hundreds of Federal soldiers, the filth from the 
 stories above poured down upon us in a foul mass; a 
 suffocating stench constantly pervading the room; 
 with scarcely room enough to move about in." 
 
 Under an expectation that the Union forces would 
 take possession of the city, which the army of Trea- 
 son felt constrained to abandon, — a deduction not only 
 authorized by the military emergencies of the hour, 
 but, in view of them, stamping any other with folly, 
 the Rebel authorities, on the 15th of May, hurried 
 the Union prisoners from this den to Salisbury, North 
 Carolina. They were transported on uncovered plat- 
 form cars, rudely fitted with rough board benches; 
 forbidden to leave them for an instant for any purpose 
 whatever, exposed at every point on the route, where 
 there was rabble enough to deride and insult them, 
 and although provided with starvation rations only, 
 they were not allowed to eke them out by purchases 
 at their own cost. The place, however, high among 
 the hills, was found to be much more healthful, and 
 the prison buildings vastly more commodious, than 
 those of Richmond. A most welcome appurtenance 
 to these structures was an enclosure of some ten or 
 twelve acres, in which, under rather stringent regu- 
 lations, the prisoners were allowed to take air and 
 
42 
 
 exercise. Another grateful improvement upon the 
 regime at Richmond was, that their Rebel custodians 
 exhibited some decency of demeanor; and, although 
 the fare was not only very scanty but of miserable 
 quality, supplies could be obtained from without by 
 the payment of extortionate prices. 
 
 Under date of June 28tli, 1862, writing from this 
 Prison, he said: "I have nothing agreeable to com- 
 municate, except that I continue in good health. 
 Our hopes are raised on the slighest rumor or remotest 
 incident, that we shall soon be paroUed or exchanged; 
 but we are constantly disappointed. This produces 
 various effects upon those confined here. * =5: * 
 I belong to another class, who, adopting the philo- 
 sophy of Pope, take comfort in the belief that 
 'whatever is, is right.' I have the utmost reliance 
 on our Government. Its capacity and energy have 
 been exhibited in prosecuting the most remarkable 
 campaign the world has ever seen, for valuable results 
 and in extent of country passed over by our armies. 
 I value myself too little to suppose that nothing has 
 been done because I am left here a prisoner. I 
 imagine the world may be moving and doing a very 
 respectable stroke of business, though I am taking no 
 part in it. I am far happier in such thoughts than 
 I should be in nourishing the conceits of an exagge- 
 rated self-importance. When it suits the policy of our 
 
rulers, and more important concerns do not absorb 
 their time, I have hope that we, who are prisoners, 
 may be released. * * ^: ^i^q towns-people 
 have somewhat limited our market, by prohibiting 
 the sale to us of certain articles they desire for their 
 own consumption. All provisions are very high." 
 
 The recurrence of the Anniversary of our National 
 Independence raised the patriotism of the prisoners to 
 the pitch of enthusiasm. The Union War Prisoners' 
 Association, — an organization created by the prisoners 
 to regulate their internal concerns, prepared a 2^^^o- 
 gramme, not unsuited to the most loyal and patriotic 
 community in the Northern states. Major Gordon, C. 
 S. A., commandant of the Prison, reviewed it and 
 ordered some changes to be made. Lieutenant Col- 
 onel Benedict had been selected to deliver an Oration. 
 Inferring its probable character, the Rebel censor 
 interdicted the performance, and he read Washington's 
 Farewell Address instead. The Star Spangled Ban- 
 ner and Hail Columbia were forbidden to be sung. 
 The patriotic fervor of the caged patriots found vent 
 in emphatic renderings of America, Pilgrim Fathers 
 and the Marsellaise. Captain Cox, 1st Kentucky, 
 delivered an Ode and Poem, both of much merit, and 
 Captain J. T. Drew, 2nd Vermont, recited an original 
 Poem, that will bear comparison with many delivered 
 on that day under much more favorable auspices. 
 
44 
 
 Lieutenant Colonel Benedict's toast on the occa- 
 sion was significant and characteristic : " Exchange 
 of prisoners — the burden of our thoughts, voices and 
 hopes. May our Government, speedily, give man for 
 man ; but, never, a principle for any man." Games and 
 races by the privates, for prizes offered by the officers, 
 concluded a Celebration by no means unworthy of 
 the day. 
 
 The bitterest element in the cup of his captivity 
 touched his lips when it was nearly drained and about 
 to pass from him. Just before his exchange, he learned 
 that a heart, that had been grievously wrung by his 
 imprisonment, was not to be soothed and cheered by 
 his release. More than a month before the sorrowful 
 intelligence penetrated his prison, his father, whom 
 he reverenced as well as loved, had died. 
 
 Under a cartel he left Salisbury, en route for the 
 Union lines, via Richmond. Writing home August 
 10th, the day before he left the Prison, he said : 
 "My health is good, though my system is depleted by 
 the fare and mode of life, so that I feel little vigor or 
 energy. The prospect of liberty, I anticipate, will 
 revive us all to a degree ; and by the time I reach 
 you, I hope to be a new man. We are, necessarily, 
 in the dark as to the course Government will pursue 
 in our cases ; but suppose we will be granted a short 
 leave of absence to refit ourselves for the war." 
 
45 
 
 Arriving opposite Richmond, they were turned out 
 on Belle Isle, and left to pass the night, as best they 
 could, on the bare ground, without shelter of any 
 sort. This exposure of debilitated and exhausted 
 men to the damps and chills of the night entailed con- 
 sequences not immediately apparent. Thence they 
 were taken to the Libby Prison, well remembered by 
 most of them for its filthiness and discomfort, but 
 which was then, if possible, in even a more loathsome 
 and pestilential condition than when they had been 
 its inmates. The sick and wounded of our army, 
 whose low state precluded them from the present 
 benefits of exchange, lay there, with nothing between 
 their tortured and languishing bodies and the reeking 
 floor, without blankets or sheets, and some, without 
 even a shirt to cover them, with no nourishment but 
 the coarse prison rations, wretched in quality and 
 wholly insufficient in quanity. This sorrowful sight 
 so affected the exchanged officers, that they contri- 
 buted money and divested themselves of blankets, 
 overcoats and indeed all their surplus clothing, for the 
 relief of their suffering countrymen. 
 
 It is equally gratifying and surprising to be able to 
 state that, in so thoroughly depraved and brutalized 
 a community as one must be in order to tolerate such 
 treatment of prisoners of war, now and then a heart 
 beat in unison with the ordinary charities of human 
 
46 
 
 nature. But such pulsations were carefully con- 
 cealed from the observation of the high civil and 
 military authorities of the Confederacy and the domi- 
 nant class of society. Personally, Lieutenant Colo- 
 nel Benedict incurred obligations, in the Rebel Capital, 
 on account of sincere attempts to do him service. His 
 friends remember with gratitude and respect, as he 
 did while memory remained with him, some, whose 
 names it would not be proper even now to disclose, 
 who, at some risk to themselves, attempted in good 
 faith, but to little effect, to solace his captivity and 
 aid his return to his friends. 
 
 Under the impression that, in care of Federal 
 authorities, shelterless nights, in transitu from Rich- 
 mond to Washington, needed not to be provided 
 against, he had devoted his last overcoat to the 
 service of the sick and naked of the Libby Prison. 
 He found himself, however, on a damp, misty night, 
 on the open deck of a United States transport on the 
 James river, with insufficient clothing, afraid to lie 
 down, and too weak to stand up, but with no other 
 place to lay his head. What wonder that he sunk 
 down where he stood, and arose wet and shivering, to 
 lie down again at no distant day, with that form of 
 fever, that filled more hospitals and graves from the 
 Army of the Potomac, than all the casualties of war 
 combined. On the 20tli of August, he reached Wash- 
 
47 
 
 ington. The general effect of his Southern experience 
 and observation upon his mind is quite apparent in 
 some statements extracted from him by reporters and 
 published at the time. "Colonel Benedict is eager, 
 and in this he says he expresses the desire of all who 
 came with him from Eebeldom, to get to work again. 
 He will command a regiment, if he can get one; if 
 not, he will resume his old position. He says, and 
 in this, too, says that the others are with him, that 
 the harshest measures toward the Rebels are the 
 best. He spurns conciliation, and cries, 'War to the 
 knife.' 
 
 "He believes in Emancipation as a means of crush- 
 ing the Rebellion. The slaves, he says, are all our 
 friends, show their friendship toward Union prisoners 
 in all safe ways, and will be speedily heard from in 
 response to an order of freedom. He would use the 
 freedmen in all ways in which they can serve. 
 
 "The Confiscation and Emancipation Act is, in 
 Colonel Benedict's judgment, the most terrible wea- 
 .pon the North has yet drawn. The Rebels wince at 
 it, as it stands on the Statute Book, only executed in 
 part as it is." 
 
 After reporting at the War Department, he received 
 leave of absence for thirty days, to enable him to visit 
 his friends, and on Saturday evening, August 23d, he 
 reached Albany. 
 
48 
 
 In anticipation of his coming, his townsmen had 
 arranged to receive him in a manner adapted to 
 assure him of their approbation of his conduct and 
 sympathy with his sufferings, as well as their satisfac- 
 tion at his return. The orator chosen for the occa- 
 sion, the Hon. Lyman Tremain, was in waiting with a 
 numerous array of friends, with words of welcome 
 on his lips; but when he emerged from the car, 
 tremulous and tottering, unable to stand without 
 support, his appearance shocked the beholders, and 
 put a sudden period to all the schemes for a formal 
 reception. His long subjection to the malign influ- 
 ence of impure air and bad, as well as insufficient 
 food, had, unquestionably, predisposed him to disease ; 
 but the exposure at Belle Isle and on the Government 
 transport on the James, had put a match to the train 
 that now reached the magazine. He was consuming 
 with fever. He was instantly carried home, where it 
 required skilful treatment and assiduous nursing to 
 restore him to such a measure of health, as to enable 
 him to execute his purpose to re-enter upon service at 
 the earliest practicable moment. 
 
 During this confinement. Governor Morgan, in the 
 kindest manner, tendered him the Colonelcy of the 
 162nd Regiment, N. Y. V. Infantry, then in process of 
 being recruited. His resignation of the Lieutenant 
 Colonelcy of the 73d New York was accejjted, to 
 
49 
 
 qualify him to receive this promotion ; and his ex- 
 change was announced, officially, September 30, 1862. 
 
 On the 9 th of September, though still quite infirm, 
 he proceeded to New York, to supervise the concerns 
 of the new regiment. This was the third of those 
 raised under the patronage of the Commissioners of 
 the Metropolitan Police. Its filling up was greatly 
 impeded by the interferences and frauds of bounty 
 brokers, and, scarcely less, by those of corrupt or 
 incompetent United States Surgeons. It required an 
 amount of personal labor and attention to overcome 
 these manifold hindrances, that would have taxed his 
 energies severely in his best estate ; but, in the weak 
 condition in which they met him, he narrowly 
 escaped complete prostration. 
 
 By the latter part of October, his regiment had 
 attained such proportions as entitled it to take the 
 field; and for that purpose, on the 24th of that 
 month, it was ordered to Washington. After spend- 
 ing some time in various camps in the vicinity of the 
 city, he was directed to embark with it, at Alexandria, 
 Virginia, for Fortress Monroe — the rendezvous of the 
 forces assembled for what is commonly called the 
 Banks Expedition. 
 
 Like most, who escaped being disabled for life by 
 barbarous treatment in Rebel prisons, and retained 
 vigor enough to fight again, and especially such as 
 
50 
 
 were sufficiently intelligent to despise the false 
 pretence, rife on both sides of the line as by concert, 
 that subordinates, and not the controlling civil and 
 military officers of the Confederacy, were responsible 
 for those brutalities, he was impatient to take the 
 field. The prosj)ect of evading the annual embargo 
 on military operations, imposed by the winter of the 
 North, was eminently a pleasant one. 
 
 Writing from Hampton Roads, he said: "I am 
 happy, both for my men and myself, that we are 
 going to the South ; where Winter will not lock up 
 patriotic effort in ice nor drown it in mud, and we 
 will be able to strike freely, knowing that we are 
 smiting foes." 
 
 To a brother, he wrote: "I shall merit a good fate, 
 if earnest endeavors will secure it; at any rate, I will 
 always be consoled by knowing that warm hearts will 
 exult in my honorable efforts, and mourn if I fall 
 doing my duty. 
 
 "While I believe I am engaged in a sacred war 
 for moral, political and religious right, and am certain 
 it will be prosecuted to the bitter end, — to the subju- 
 gation of Secession, — I will be confident and fearless ; 
 but if the time come when compromise is tolerated, 
 expect me home. I Avill never support a war which is 
 to end in any event except the establishment, in its 
 entirety, of the authority of the Government. My 
 
51 
 
 life, and that includes all, is at the service of the 
 Union; but not one hair of my head will be given, 
 voluntarily, for any modification of it." 
 
 With four companies of his regiment he sailed from 
 Hampton Roads, December 3d, on a transport, named 
 the City of Bath; under sealed orders, not to be 
 opened before approaching the mouths of the Missis- 
 sippi. The voyage was rendered uncomfortable and 
 perilous by heavy gales, in one of which the vessel 
 was thrown on her beam ends, and did not right again 
 in some hours, to the consternation of all on board. 
 The water on board the ship was bad too, the water 
 casks having previously served in the Pacific as oil 
 casks. Refitting at Key West, and opening his orders 
 at Ship Island, he learned his destination to be New 
 Orleans, where he arrived December 15, 1862. 
 
 On reporting at Head Quarters, he was instructed 
 to report to General T. W. Sherman, at Carrollton, 
 six miles above the city proper, who ordered him to 
 disembark his men at Camp Parapet, some two miles 
 farther up, and assume command of the post, then 
 garrisoned by several regiments and batteries. 
 
 On the 24th of December, after a season of extreme 
 anxiety concerning their fate, he was joined by Lieu- 
 tenant Colonel Blanchard, and the six other compa- 
 nies of his regiment who had sailed from Hampton 
 Roads in company with himself; but as it turned out, 
 
62 
 
 on a wretched and unsafe hulk called the George's 
 Creek. 
 
 About the 10th of January, 1863, Colonel Benedict 
 was ordered with his regiment to Donaldsonville, some 
 sixty miles above New Orleans, to hold that place, 
 while General Godfrey Weitzel, who had been lying at 
 Thibodeaux, marched on Brashear City and other 
 points on Bayou Teche ; it being apprehended that the 
 enemy, taking advantage of his absence in that 
 quarter, might gain his rear ; thus endangering him 
 and our possession of the Mississippi river. He 
 remained at Donaldsonville until the 25th, when, Weit- 
 zel having accomplished his purposes, the necessity to 
 strengthen the regular garrison ceased, and he returned 
 with his command to the Parapet. 
 
 His command at this post was his first service as an 
 Acting Brigadier. The anomalous condition of affairs 
 in the surrounding district, and the entire absence of 
 civil or social authority, imposed on military com- 
 manders much besides professional duty. In so dis- 
 turbed a state of society, military vigilance could not be 
 relaxed even if the public enemy were not immediately 
 at hand, — elements that needed watchful care were 
 always present. Every day brought with it occasion 
 for the exercise of sound judgment, moderation and 
 presence of mind; for there was neither code nor 
 precedent to prescribe or follow. He was fortunate 
 
53 
 
 enough, in this difficult position, to satisfy his superiors, 
 by his diligence in military matters, and by his 
 discretion in such affairs as were rather civil and 
 administrative in character. 
 
 On the 2d of February, he was ordered to turn 
 over this command to Brig. General Neal Dow ; and to 
 put his own regiment into quarters at Camp Mansfield, 
 half a mile from Carrollton. Here the regiment was 
 brigaded with the 16th New Hampshire, 110th New 
 York, and 4th Massachusetts; constituting the 1st 
 Brigade 3d Division of the 19th Army Corps, 
 under Brig. General Andrews. Having suffered 
 acutely for some weeks in consequence of an ail- 
 ment, to be relieved only by a difficult surgical 
 operation, he obtained, on the 6th of March, leave of 
 absence to go to the North in order to receive proper 
 surgical treatment. 
 
 He arrived in New York on the 16th of March, and 
 at once underwent the needed operation, and con- 
 valesced so rapidly that he re-embarked on the 23d of 
 April, and rejoined his regiment on the 11th of May, 
 at Alexandria, Louisiana. He had barely landed, 
 however, and was receiving the congratulations of his 
 friends, when he was knocked down by a frightened 
 horse, and his leg so injured that he was obliged to 
 return to the boat and remain on it, while it made a 
 trip to Brashear City and returned. 
 
64 
 
 This march to Alexandria was said to be a ruse, 
 on the part of General Banks, to induce the Rebels 
 to believe Shreveport was his objective point. On 
 the 17th, the Army retraced its steps to Cheney ville, 
 and thence made a forced march to Semmesport, on 
 the Atchafalaya, about ten miles from the Red River. 
 At this point Colonel Benedict came up with the 
 Army and took command of the brigade. The, troops 
 moved up the Atchafalaya to its source, and the 
 junction of the Red and Mississippi rivers, thence 
 down the latter to Morganzia, where the Army crossed 
 the river to Bayou Sara, ten miles above Port Hudson. 
 
 At Morganzia, May 23d, he was detached, with 
 110th New York, 2 companies of Cavalry and a 
 section of the 6th Mass. Artillery, to occupy and 
 hold an important position, directly opposite Port 
 Hudson, called indifferently Hermitage or Fausse 
 Point. Just here there is a bend in the river, and 
 a swampy flat projects far into the stream, making 
 the point: an insignificant hamlet, named Hermitage, 
 is near, on the bank of Fausse river, from which the 
 point obtains its name. From its relative position, — 
 Port Hudson invested, — this locality would have 
 been invaluable to the beleaguered garrison; furnishing 
 a convenient avenue for retreat, if that were expedient, 
 or for strengthening itself by communication with 
 friends on the opposite side of the river, besides 
 
55 
 
 offering a very eligible location for batteries. To 
 prevent such or any uses of it by the Rebels was the 
 duty he was set to perform. A signal station was 
 discovered in the neighborhood and captured, with 
 seven men of the Signal Corps of the enemy. By 
 means of the Cavalry he swept the country in his 
 rear, and kept it free from small hostile parties; at 
 the same time, collecting information for use at Head- 
 Quarters. His position was frequently shelled, but 
 without serious effect, though some very narrow 
 escapes were experienced. 
 
 Under orders he yielded this command to Colonel 
 Sage of 110th New York, and proceeded to join his 
 regiment before Port Hudson, arriving in his camp 
 in the evening of June 13th. He was immediately 
 put in command of the 175th New York, Colonel 
 Bryan, the 28th Maine and 48th Mass. ; which, 
 together with his own regiment, 162nd New York, 
 under Lieutenant Colonel Blanchard, constituted the 
 2nd Brigade of 2nd Division of the 19th Corps, under 
 command of Brig. General Dwight. At 12 o'clock 
 that night, orders were issued for an attack at day* 
 break by the entire line of investment. At 1 a. m. 
 Colonel Benedict moved his brigade still farther to 
 the left, opposite the lower sally-port of the enemy. 
 On information, received from a deserter, that there 
 was a straight and plain road to this sally-port, and 
 
56 , 
 
 that the enemy's works were there quite practicable, 
 General Dwiglit ordered the left to assault at that 
 point. By some miscarriage, orders failed to reach 
 the 28th Maine, and the brigade went into action 
 with three regiments, numbering only 582 men. 
 
 The attack was commenced by the 1st Brigade, 
 under Colonel Clark of 6th Michigan, which, in a 
 few minutes, was thrown into disorder. General 
 Dwight then ordered Colonel Benedict to advance- 
 his Brigade to the assistance of Colonel Clark ; and 
 to march to the attack "in column of companies." 
 On reaching the open ground, which rose gently 
 toward the enemy's works, upon which the column 
 entered from a wood, under cover of which it had 
 formed, it was met by a terrific fire of shot and shell ; 
 and a little farther on, it came under a crossfire of 
 artillery that was almost insupportable. Still, he 
 urged the column on, passing Clark's brigade, to the 
 verge opposite the sally-port ; only, however, to find 
 himself confronted by a ravine between him and the 
 enemy's works, made impassable by felled timber and 
 exposed to a withering fire of all arms. He halted 
 the column and ordered the men to seek cover; as 
 retreat would have been absolute annihilation, while 
 further advance was entirely imj^racticable. Coolly 
 surveying the hostile works from the brink of the 
 ravine, he retraced the j)erilous road ; for, being with- 
 
57 
 
 out an Aid for the purpose, he was compelled to* report 
 in person the critical situation of his command to 
 General Dwight; who, recognizing the necessity, 
 ordered the brigade to lie where it was until the 
 shades of night might cover its withdrawal. After 
 reporting, he rejoined his men; having gone and 
 returned through a tornado of shot and shell, 
 untouched. 
 
 The sufferings of that day will never be forgotten, 
 by any who shared or witnessed them. From morn- 
 ing till night the men lay under a burning sun, 
 exhausted by fatigue, maddened by thirst, and many 
 agonized by wounds. The slightest manifestation of 
 life made the exhibitor a target for a volley from the 
 sharpshooters of the enemy, who crowded the works 
 that crowned the field. The assault failed elsewhere, 
 throughout the lines, as it did here ; and, as might be 
 expected from the character of the fighting, the casu- 
 alties were numerous and severe. It was in this 
 advance that the brave Colonel Bryan, of 175tli New 
 York, fell. The 162nd New York, Colonel Benedict's 
 own regiment, which led the bi'igade, lost, in killed, 
 wounded and missing, 51 out of 173 in action. Major 
 James H. Bogart was among the killed. 
 
 At 7 p. M. the Brigade was withdrawn. 
 
 The calm bravery displayed by Colonel Benedict 
 on this occasion excited the admiration of all who 
 
58 
 
 witnessed it; and, partial as may be the pen that 
 records this memorial of it, it is exceeded in strength of 
 eulogy by many less interested commentators. An 
 officer's letter, to a friend, said : " When about three 
 hundred yards from the works I was struck. The 
 pain was so intense I could not go on. I turned to 
 my 2nd Lieutenant, as he came up to me, and said : 
 ' Never mind me. Jack ; for God's sake jump to the 
 colors ! ' I do not recollect any thing more until I 
 heard Colonel Benedict say : '■ Up men and forward ! ' 
 I looked and saw the rear regiments lying flat to escape 
 the fire, and Colonel Benedict standing there, the 
 shot striking all about him, and he never flinching. 
 It was grand to see him. I wish I was of iron nerve 
 as he is." Adjutant Meech of 26th Connecticut, 
 writing to his friends, said : " I saw Colonel Benedict 
 standing just in front of me, when I was wounded, on 
 the edge of the ravine, looking intently at the Rebel 
 works, while bullets and shells were flying about 
 pretty thick. He walked to the rear as composedly 
 as if out for a stroll." 
 
 Criticisms upon the point and manner of attack, 
 suggested naturally by the incidents and event of this 
 assault, are restrained ; because considerable research 
 has failed to discover that General Dwight ever made 
 any report of them. 
 
 The following day, June 15tli, General Banks, 
 
59 
 
 called for 1000 volunteers to form a column to storm 
 the enemy's works. Officers who might lead it were 
 assured of promotion, and all, both officers and 
 privates, were promised medals of commemoration, 
 and that their names should " be placed in General 
 Orders, on the Roll of Honor." High on this Roll 
 would have appeared the name of Colonel Lewis 
 Benedict. Colonel (now General) Birge, of Massachu- 
 setts, volunteered, and by virtue of seniority, was 
 assigned to command the 1st Battalion of the 
 Stormers. Colonel Benedict volunteered to lead the 
 2nd Battalion, and his offer was accepted. The fall of 
 Yicksburg however, constrained the Rebel General, 
 Gardner to surrender Port Hudson; and so the 
 Forlorn Hope lost the opportunity to illustrate its 
 bravery and patriotism. 
 
 Springfield Landing, some four miles below Port 
 Hudson, was the base of supplies for the investing 
 army. The safety of these stores, upon which that 
 of the army depended, became imperilled by the 
 aggressions of Logan's Cavalry ; and some small suc- 
 cesses in the way of plundering and burning, it w^as 
 apprehended, might invite serious attacks by larger 
 bodies of the enemy. The 2nd Brigade having become 
 reduced by casualities and details to a single battalion. 
 Colonel Benedict was relieved of that command and 
 ordered to the protection of this important depot, soon 
 
60 
 
 after the battle of the 14th of June. He had just 
 completed a parapet for that object, when the sur- 
 render of Port Hudson took place. 
 
 He was in attendance on the ceremonies of that 
 surrender, and thus described some objects of peculiar 
 interest to him, which the occasion gave him an 
 o]3portunity to observe: ""We entered the works by 
 the road, over which we advanced to assault them on 
 the 14th of June ; and, as I rode along, I congratu- 
 lated myself that our progress then had been checked, 
 although the storm of grape and bullets cost my 
 brigade the lives of more than a hundred of its best 
 men, a Colonel, a Major and several other valuable 
 officers. A glance at the ground showed that our 
 assault must have been unsuccessful. The natural 
 difficulties of the position were very great, and they 
 had been augmented by the Rebels, with all they 
 possessed of means or skill." 
 
 Soon after this, Colonel Benedict was detailed to 
 serve on a succession of Courts-Martial convened in 
 New Orleans. His professional acquirements and 
 training made him a, desirable member of tribunals of 
 this character. 
 
 About the middle of August, while he was at New 
 Orleans, General Banks had reorganized the army of 
 the Department. The 162nd, 110th and 165th New 
 York and 14th Maine, were constituted the 1st 
 
61 
 
 Brigade, 3d Division of the 19tli Army Corps, and 
 Colonel Benedict was assigned to command it. 
 
 He reached his command, then at Baton Rouge, 
 September 1st, and on the following day was ordered 
 to embark with it on the steamer North America. 
 This craft had been built for the navigation of the 
 Hudson River, and years before had been pronounced 
 unsafe to run even in those placid waters. In the 
 fitting out of the Banks Expedition, this old hulk had 
 been imposed on the Government, and actually 
 brought troops to the Gulf. By means of incessant 
 pumping, she was kept afloat until New Orleans was 
 reached, when Colonel Benedict, who had discovered 
 in her an acquaintance of his boyhood, refused to 
 proceed any farther in her. A survey was called, 
 and she was condemned as unseaworthy; and soon 
 after she sunk quietly at the dock. He then 
 transferred his command to the steamship R. C. 
 Winthrop ; — one of the vessels of an expedition then 
 preparing, the destination of which, however, was not 
 made public at the time. 
 
 On the 4th of September the ship sailed for the 
 
 place of rendezvous for the vessels of the expedition, 
 
 which was off Berwick Bay, and made it apparent 
 
 that Texas was the quarter in which it was to operate. 
 
 The land forces consisted of the 19th Corps; and the 
 
 transports were conveyed by a naval force, consisting 
 9 
 
62 
 
 of four light draft gunboats, the Clifton, Arizona, 
 Granite City and Sachem ; the whole under command 
 of Major General William B. Franklin. It turned 
 out that the object of the expedition was to capture 
 and occujoy Sabine City, at the mouth of the river of 
 that name. The entire fleet was directed to make 
 Sabine Pass by midnight of the 7th, in order that the 
 attack might be made early on the morning of the 
 8th. This, however, was not accomplished ; for, owing 
 to the absence of the blockading vessel which was 
 relied upon to indicate the j)oint, the fleet ran by in 
 the night, and thus necessitated a change of both the 
 time and manner of the attack, which finally took 
 place towards evening on the 8th. The Pass proved 
 to be sufficiently fortified, or was defended with 
 audacity enough, to defy such demonstrations as were 
 made on behalf of the Expedition; so that, after 
 sacrificing two of the gunboats, the Clifton and 
 Sachem, the most serviceable of all in view of the 
 shallowness of the waters, the fleet returned to New 
 Orleans, to the infinite disgust of the soldiers who 
 expected to fight, and equally to the sorrow and dis- 
 appointment of a multitude of prisoners and refugees, 
 who sorely needed an opposite result. It was said 
 that this bootless expedition was not favored by the 
 most experienced officers in the Department, who 
 preferred Brownsville as a base for ulterior operations. 
 
63 
 
 Colonel Benedict shared in the general regret 
 caused by such barrenness of creditable results from 
 an enterprise which had inspired high hopes, founded 
 largely on the tried bravery of the 19th Corps. The 
 reaction, however, created in all, both officers and 
 men, a burning desire to supplant the remembrances 
 of the Sabine Pass failure, by other emotions excited 
 by some important success. It was, therefore, with 
 great satisfaction that, after spending four or five days 
 in camp at Algiers, he received orders to march his 
 Brigade to Brashear City, in order to participate in 
 some ojoerations in Western Louisiana. These opera- 
 tions were designed to favor another portion of the 
 Army, sent to occupy Brownsville, on the Rio Grande, 
 by compelling the Rebels to withdraw troops from 
 Texas, to oppose the advance of this one. After an 
 unimportant skirmish, near Carrion Crow Bayou, the 
 19th Corps moved to Vermillionville. 
 
 Here it was reported to Major General Franklin 
 that the enemy was concentrating forces, at or near 
 Carrion Crow Bayou; and, for the purpose of deter- 
 mining their numbers and position, he directed General 
 A. L. Lee to make a reconnoissance, with all his 
 available Cavalry. The Cavalry Division, comprising 
 2 Brigades of 800 each, started from Vermillionville 
 for the Bayou in question, distant twelve miles due 
 North, at 6.30 A. M., November 11th, and soon 
 
64 
 
 commenced driving back the pickets of the enemy to 
 their reserve of 600. A running fight then ensued, 
 for some six or eight miles, ending in General Lee's 
 charging them vigorously, and driving them in confu- 
 sion into a dense wood. Nimm's Light Battery of 
 Flying Artillery was quickly brought up, and, after it 
 had shelled the woods, General Lee advanced his 
 whole force, in line of battle, through the woods, and 
 found the enemy drawn up, in like order, on the oppo- 
 site side of a prairie about two miles broad, numbering, 
 as nearly as could be estimated, some 7000. Seeing 
 that he was outnumbered, four to one, and having 
 accomplished the object of his reconnoissance, he 
 ordered a retreat. 
 
 The enemy, detecting his intention, sent a large 
 force to make a demonstration on his left flank, upon 
 which he dispatched the 1st (Col. Lucas') Brigade to 
 protect the left, while the General, in person, remained 
 with the main column in the road. 
 
 Colonel Benedict had been ordered to advance his 
 Brigade about a mile beyond Vermillion Bayou, and 
 hold himself in readiness to support General Lee. 
 After being in position an hour, he received a request 
 from the General that he would move up the road. 
 When he had proceeded about four miles, he was met 
 by a message that General Lee was retreating before 
 a superior enemy, accompanied by an order that he 
 
65 
 
 should take a position where his force would be 
 masked ; that thus General Lee might have an opportu- 
 nity to turn and make a dash at the enemy's Cavalry. 
 Colonel Benedict selected for this purpose the east 
 side of a prairie, about twelve hundred yards wide, — 
 posting the men in the ditches, — Nimms' Battery in 
 the rear of the left flank and Trull's in rear of the 
 right, — a position in which his eight hundred and 
 odd could withstand five thousand. General Lee 
 retired behind this position to tempt the enemy into 
 the open prairie ; but he was too cautious and opened 
 with his artillery. This was replied to with vigor, 
 and for an hour the fire was active, the Rebels sufter- 
 ing severely. Then, failing in an attempt to outflank, 
 they sought the cover of the fences and retired. 
 Colonel Benedict's Brigade was so well protected that 
 it had but 1 killed and 4 wounded. 
 
 On the 15th of November, the Army left Vermil- 
 lionville, encamping for the night near Spanish Lake, 
 and the next day marched to New Iberia, where it 
 remained in quarters until the close of the year. 
 Colonel Benedict's Brigade held the post of honor on 
 the march, acting as rear guard of the army. 
 
 Though not attacked on the way, it was closely 
 followed by the enemy, and had not become settled in 
 quarters, when it was announced that Camp Pratt, 
 its very place of encampment the night before, was 
 
66 
 
 in the occupation of the enemy. A detachment was 
 at once sent out, which surprised in their beds, and 
 captured, more than 120 Rebels. 
 
 On the 2nd of January, 1864, he arrived at Frank- 
 lin, Louisiana, where the Army was concentrated. 
 Here was organized what is known, and generally 
 deplored, as the Red River Expedition. Colonel 
 Benedict was assigned to the command of the 3d 
 Brigade of the 1st Division of the 19 th Army Corps. 
 Major General Franklin commanded the Corps ; Gen- 
 eral Emory, the Division. 
 
 On the 15th of March, the Division moved to enter 
 upon the Red River Campaign. Traversing the rich 
 flats of Lower Louisiana, and skirmishing slightly on 
 the way, it reached Alexandria, — a distance of 160 
 miles, on the 25th. The march was continued, on 
 the 27th, to Natchitoches, where the Army encamped 
 on the 31st, and awaited the arrival of the provision 
 transports. General Banks and Commodore Porter, 
 with his fleet, were at Grand Ecore, 4 miles above. A 
 reconnoissance having ascertained with sufficient 
 accuracy, as was thought, the strength and position 
 of the enemy at and beyond Pleasant Hill, the entire 
 Army marched from Natchitoches on the morning of 
 the 6th of April. After an exhausting march through 
 rain and mud. Colonel Benedict's Brigade arrived at 
 Pleasant Hill on the evening of the 7th, and bivou- 
 
67 
 
 acked; — the wagons not having come up. At 8 
 o'clock the next morning, the 8th, it resumed its march, 
 and in the afternoon encamped, with the rest of the 
 Division, at Carroll's Mill, about i 1 miles northwest of 
 Pleasant Hill. 
 
 The line of march is thus described by General 
 Banks, in his official report: "General Lee, with the 
 Cavalry Division, led the advance, followed by a de- 
 tachment of two divisions of the 13th Corps, under 
 General Ransom, 1st Division, 19 th Corps, under 
 General Emory, and a brigade of colored troops under 
 the command of Colonel Dickey, — the whole under 
 the immediate command of Major General Franklin." 
 
 General Banks further states: "The enemy offered 
 no opposition to their march on the 6th. On the 7th 
 the advance drove a small force to Pleasant Hill, and 
 from there to Wilson's Farm, three miles beyond, 
 where a sharp fight occurred with the enemy posted 
 in a very strong position, from which they were 
 driven with serious loss and pursued to St. Patrick's 
 Bayou, near Carroll's Mill, about nine miles from 
 Pleasant Hill, where our forces bivouacked for the 
 night. We sustained in this action a loss of 14 men 
 killed, 39 wounded, and 9 missing. We captured 
 many prisoners, and the enemy sustained severe losses 
 in killed and wounded. During the engagement, 
 General Lee sent to General Franklin for re-enforce- 
 
68 
 
 ments, and a brigade of Infantry was sent forward, 
 but, the firing having ceased, it was withdrawn. The 
 officers and men fought with great spirit in this affair. 
 At daybreak on the 8th, General Lee, to whose 
 support a brigade of the 13th Corps, under Colonel 
 Landrum, had been sent by my order, advanced upon 
 the enemy, drove him from his position on the oppo- 
 site side of St. Patrick's Bayou, and pursued him to 
 Sabine Cross Roads, about three miles from Mansfield. 
 The advance was steady but slow, and the resistance 
 of the enemy stubborn. He was only driven from 
 his defensive positions on the road by artillery. At 
 noon on the 8th, another brigade of the loth Corps 
 arrived at the Cross Roads, under Brig. Gen. Ransom, 
 to relieve the First Brigade. The Infantry moved 
 from Pleasant Hill at daybreak on the 8th, the head 
 of the column halting at St. Patrick's Bayou, in order 
 that the rear might come up. I passed General 
 Franklin's Head-Quarters at 10 A. m., giving directions 
 to close up the column as speedily as possible, and 
 rode forward to ascertain the condition of affairs at 
 the front, where I arrived between 1 and 2 o'clock. 
 General Ransom arrived nearly at the same time, with 
 the 2nd Brigade, 13th Corps, which was under his 
 command at the action at the Cross Roads. 
 
 "I found the troops in line of battle, the skirmishers 
 sharply engaged, the main body of the enemy posted 
 
69 
 
 on the crest of a hill, in thick woods, on both sides 
 of a road leading over the hill to Mansfield, on our 
 line of march. 
 
 "It was apparent that the enemy was in much 
 stronger force than at any previous point on the 
 march, and, being confirmed in this opinion by General 
 Franklin, immediately upon my arrival, I sent a state- 
 ment of the facts and orders to hurry forward the 
 Infantry with all possible dispatch, directing General 
 Lee, at the same time, to hold his ground steadily, but 
 not advance until re-enforcements should arrive. Our 
 forces were for a long time stationary, wdth some 
 skirmishing on the flanks. It soon became apparent 
 that the entire force of the enemy was in our front. 
 Several officers were sent to General Franklin to hurry 
 forward the column. Skirmishing was incessant dur- 
 ing the afternoon. At 4.30 p. m. the enemy made a 
 general attack all along the lines, but with great vigor 
 upon our right flank. It was resisted with resolute 
 determination by our troops, but overpowering num- 
 bers compelled them, after resisting the successive 
 charges of the enemy in front and on the flank, to fall 
 back from their position to the woods in rear of the 
 open field which they occupied, retreating in good order. 
 The enemy pressed with great vigor upon the flanks as 
 well as in front, for the purpose of getting to the rear, 
 
 but were repulsed in this attempt by our Cavalry. 
 10 
 
70 
 
 "At the line of woods a new position was assumed, 
 supported by the 3d Division of the loth Army Corps, 
 under General Cameron, which reached this point 
 about 5 p. M., and formed in line of battle under the 
 direction of Major-General Franklin, who accompanied 
 its advance. The enemy attacked this second line 
 with great impetuosity and overpowering numbers, 
 turning both flanks, and advancing heavily upon the 
 centre. The assault was resisted with gallantry, but 
 the troops, finding the enemy in the rear, were com- 
 pelled to yield the ground and fall steadily back. The 
 road was badly obstructed by the supply train of the 
 Cavalry Division, which prevented the retreat of both 
 men and artillery. We lost ten of the guns of Ran- 
 som's Division in consequence of the position of the 
 train, which prevented their withdrawal. Repeated 
 efforts were made to reform the troops and resist 
 the advance of the enemy; but, though their pro- 
 gress was checked, it was without permanent success. 
 
 "Brig. Gen. W. H. Emory, commanding 1st Division, 
 19th Corps, had been early notified of the condition of 
 affairs, and directed to advance as rapidly as possible, 
 and form a line of battle in the strongest j)osition he 
 could select, to support the troops in retreat and check 
 the advance of the enemy. The order to advance 
 found him seven miles to the rear of the first battle 
 ground. He assumed a position at Pleasant Grove, 
 
71 
 
 about three miles from the cross roads, on the edge of 
 the woods commanding an open field sloping to the 
 front. The 161st New York Volunteers, Lieut.-Colo- 
 nel Kinsey commanding, were deployed as skirmish- 
 ers, and ordered to the foot of the hill, upon the crest 
 of which the line was formed to cover the rear of the 
 retreating forces, to check the pursuit of the enemy 
 and give time for the formation of the troops. 
 
 "General D wight, commanding 1st Brigade, formed 
 his troops across the road upon which the enemy was 
 moving, commanding the open field in front; the 3d 
 Brigade, Colonel Benedict commanding, formed to 
 the left, and the 2nd Brigade, General McMillan, in 
 reserve. The line was scarcely formed when the 161st 
 New York Volunteers were attacked and driven in. 
 The right being threatened, a portion of McMillan's 
 Brigade formed on the right of General Dwight. The 
 fire of our troops was reserved until the enemy was at 
 close quarters, when the whole line opened upon them 
 with most destructive volleys of musketry. The 
 action lasted an hour and a half The enemy was 
 repulsed with very great slaughter. During the fight, 
 a determined effort was made to turn our left flank, 
 which was defeated. Prisoners reported the loss of 
 the enemy in officers and men to be very great. Gene- 
 ral Mouton was killed in the first onset. Their 
 attack was made with great desperation, apparently 
 
72 
 
 with the idea that the dispersion of our forces at this 
 point would end the campaign, and, with the aid of 
 the steadily falling river, leave the fleet of transports 
 and gunboats in their hands, or compel their destruc- 
 tion. Nothing could surpass in impetuosity the 
 assault of the enemy but the inflexible steadiness and 
 valor of our troops. The 1st Division of the 19th 
 Corps, by its great bravery in this action, saved the 
 Army and Navy. But for this successful resistance to 
 the attack of the enemy at Pleasant Grove, the 
 renewed attack of the enemy with increased force 
 could not have been successfully resisted at Pleasant 
 Hill on the 9th of April. We occupied the battle 
 grounds at night." 
 
 In this -action the loss of 1st Division, in killed, 
 wounded and missing, was 13 officers and 343 men. 
 
 To refer more particularly to the movements and 
 services of Colonel Benedict's Brigade on this occa- 
 sion, it may be stated that, at about 4.30 p. m., the 
 men being engaged in cooking their rations, orders 
 came to prepare to move forward; and very soon 
 it commenced a march at double quick time toward 
 Sabine Cross Roads, a distance of six miles, arriv- 
 ing at 6 p. M., at the point selected by General 
 Emory to cover the retreat of our discomfited troops 
 and check the advance of the enemy. As this point 
 was approached, the Brigade made its way through a 
 
73 
 
 confused rabble of cavalry men, infantry, artillery 
 men and camp followers, commingled with horses, 
 mules, wagons and ambulances, the whole giving token 
 of the seriousness of the situation. Entering the field 
 to the left of the wood, his Brigade was rapidly 
 deployed in the following order: the 162nd New 
 York on the right of the Brigade, resting upon the 
 left of the 2nd Brigade, the 173d New York on the 
 left of the 162nd, both regiments being on the crest of 
 a hill, with a ravine in front, the enemy occupying a 
 similar crest opposite. The 30th Maine was posted 
 in the rear of 173d New York on its left, and a few 
 rods in advance. " 
 
 The Brigade was scarcely in position when it 
 received the fire of the enemy; who, encouraged by 
 previous success, came on, as if already the field was 
 won. They were received, however, by such a fire as 
 put their further advance out of the question, although 
 they continued the attack, with great bravery and 
 perseverance, at a fearful cost of life. The mainte- 
 nance of his position by Emory was indispensable to 
 the safety of the Army; of which emergency the 
 enemy appeared to be as conscious as himself. Hence 
 their desperate determination to turn his left, held by 
 Colonel Benedict's Brigade. One desperate effort, 
 made towards night, was so bloodily repulsed, that 
 the Rebels not only recoiled, but fled, leaving their 
 
74 
 
 dead and wounded where they fell. In this repulse 
 the 162nd and 173d New York were mainly instru- 
 mental, and it closed the fighting at this point. 
 Colonel Benedict was much commended for the 
 effective manner in which he handled his brigade. 
 Gen. Banks, in his official report, says : 
 " From Pleasant Grove, where this action occurred, 
 to Pleasant Hill, was fifteen miles. It was certain 
 that the enemy, who was within reach of re-enforce- 
 ments, would renew the attack in the morning, and 
 it was wholly uncertain whether the command of 
 General Smith could reach the position we held 
 in season for a second eagagement. For this reason 
 the Army towards morning fell back to Pleasant Hill, 
 General Emory covering the rear, burying the dead, 
 bringing off the wounded and all the materiel of 
 the Army. 
 
 " It arrived there at 8.30 on the morning of the 
 9th, effecting a junction with the forces of General 
 Smith and the Colored Brigade under Colonel Dickey, 
 which had reached that point the evening previous. 
 Early on the 9 th the troops were prepared for action, 
 the movements of the enemy indicating that he was 
 on our rear. A line of battle was formed in the 
 following order: — 1st Brigade, 19th Corps, on the 
 right, resting on a ravine ; 2nd Brigade in the centre, 
 and 3d Brigade on the left. The centre was strength- 
 
75 
 
 ened by a Brigade of General Smith's forces, whose 
 main force was held in reserve. The enemy moved 
 towards our right flank. The 2nd Brigade withdrew 
 from the centre to the support of the 1st Brigade. 
 The Brigade in support of the centre moved up into 
 position, and another of General Smith's Brigades 
 Avas posted to the extreme left position on the hill in 
 echelon to the rear of the left main line. Light 
 skirmishing occurred during the afternoon. Between 
 4 and 5 o'clock it increased in vigor, and about 5 p. m., 
 when it appeared to have nearly ceased, the enemy 
 drove in our skirmishers and attacked in force, his 
 first onset being against the left. He advanced in 
 two oblique lines extending well over towards the 
 right of the 3d Brigade, 19th Corps. After a deter- 
 mined resistance, this part of the line gave way, and 
 went slowly back to the reserves. The 1st and 2nd 
 Brigades were soon enveloped in front, right and rear. 
 By skilful movements of General Emory, the flank of 
 the two Brigades, now bearing the brunt of the battle, 
 were covered. The enemy pursued the Brigades, 
 passing the left and centre, until he approached the 
 reserves under General Smith, when he was met by a 
 charge led by General Mower, and checked. The 
 whole of the reserves were now ordered up, and in 
 turn we drove the enemy, continuing the pursuit 
 until night compelled us to halt." 
 
76 
 
 General Emory, in his Official Report, says : 
 
 " On reaching Pleasant Hill, I went into line of 
 battle, faced to the rear, in the following order : First, 
 the 1st Brigade, General D wight, commanding on the 
 right, resting on a ravine which runs to the north of 
 the town; Second, General McMillan, commanding 2nd 
 Brigade; Third, Colonel Benedict, commanding 3d 
 Brigade. General McMillan was posted in the edge 
 of a wood, commanding an open field in front, and 
 Benedict's Brigade in a ditch, his left resting in an 
 open field. 
 
 " I sent word .twice to request that Benedict's left 
 might be supported by a Brigade placed in reserve or 
 in line of battle. 
 
 " The 25th New York Battery was posted on the 
 hill between the 1st and 2nd Brigades. The whole 
 line was about one half a mile in advance of the 
 town. 
 
 " After establishing my line. General McMillan was 
 withdrawn and placed on the right and rear, as a 
 reserve, and his place was supplied by a Brigade of 
 General Smith's Division. 
 
 " My pickets were skirmishing, and the shots few 
 and desultory through the day, and it was not supposed 
 the enemy would attack. However, about 5.15 p. m. he 
 emerged from the woods in all directions and in heavy 
 columns, completely outflanked and overpowered my 
 
77 
 
 left wing, composed of the 3d Brigade and a Brigade 
 of Smith's command, which broke in some confusion 
 and enabled the enemy to get temporary possession of 
 4 pieces of artillery of Battery "L," 1st U. S. 
 
 " My right stood firm and repulsed the enemy hand- 
 somely, and the left, I think, would have done so, but 
 for the great interval between it and the troops to the 
 left — leaving that flank entirely exposed — and the 
 fall of the gallant leader of the 3d Brigade, Colonel 
 Benedict. 
 
 " I immediately ordered General McMillan's Brigade, 
 from the right to the left, on the open space in the rear 
 of the line of the 3d Brigade, and ordered him to 
 charge the enemy. 
 
 " Behind this line most of the 3d Brigade rallied, 
 some joining themselves to McMillan's Brigade, and 
 some to General Smith's command; all moved forward 
 together, and drove the enemy's right flank more than 
 a mile and a quarter. 
 
 "Seeing their right wing driven in and thrown 
 upon their left wing, they renewed their attack with 
 vigor upon my right, but were repulsed with great 
 slaughter; and, during the whole day, my right, which 
 was in echelon in front of the rest of my line, held its 
 ground against several determined assaults. 
 
 "Our loss this day was in killed, wounded and 
 
 missing, 28 oflicer^ and 473 men." 
 11 
 
78 
 
 Some details, exhibiting more particularly the ser- 
 vice of the 3d Brigade in this action, are furnished by 
 an official report of Colonel (now General) Francis 
 Fessenden, then of the SOtli Maine, who succeeded 
 Colonel Benedict in the command of it. He says : 
 " At 3.30 p. M., our cavalry skirmishers Avere driven 
 in upon our left flank, through our infantry skir- 
 mishers. The skirmishers in the woods in front of 
 the Brigade were strengthened, and the line of battle 
 of the Brigade changed from its position in the skirts 
 of the wood, to a position 300 yards to the rear, behind 
 a deep ditch, the edges of which were overgrown with 
 weeds and underbrush, which partially concealed the 
 troops when lying down. The ground sloped towards 
 the ditch from the woods and ascended again to the 
 rear. The regiments were posted in the following 
 order : 165th New York on the right of the Brigade ; 
 173d New York on the right centre; 162nd New York, 
 on the left centre ; 30th Maine on the extreme left of 
 the Brigade ; the Brigade being on the left of the front 
 line of battle. The right of the Brigade was near the 
 woods on the right of the open ground, while the left 
 of the line rested in open ground and was entirely 
 uncovered. The companies of skirmishers were di- 
 rected to remain in the woods. Shortly after 5 p. m., 
 a company of colored soldiers, deployed as skirmishers 
 between the skirmishers of the Brigade and those of 
 
79 
 
 the 16th Corps, who were in line in eclielon some 400 
 yards to our left rear, and in the woods beyond the 
 slope in our rear, were driven in across the open 
 ground on our left. Soon after, the skirmishers of the 
 3d Brigade in the woods were driven in, and had not 
 yet joined their regiments, when the enemy appeared 
 in the edge of the woods, in front and beyond the left 
 of the line. They advanced rapidly, in two lines, 
 obliquely, upon the left and across the front of the 
 Brigade, extending towards the right. They advanced 
 at a charging pace, delivering a very heavy fire as 
 they advanced. Two companies of the 30th Maine 
 deployed in the ditch, one in front of that regiment 
 and the other between and in front of the 162nd and 
 173d, opened a sharp fire upon the enemy without 
 checking them in the least. These companies fell 
 back, one upon its own regiment, and the other, 
 between the 162nd and 173d. The enemy charged 
 swiftly down the slope, and commenced crossing the 
 ditch, striking at some of the skirmishers with the 
 butts of their muskets. So rapidly did they advance, 
 that Lieutenant Colonel Blanchard, of the 162nd, who 
 had gone in front of his regiment to the ditch, for the 
 purpose of seeing the position of the enemy, had not 
 time to place himself behind his regiment, before the 
 brigade line commenced retiring in confusion. The 
 regiments fell back, beginning with the 165th on the 
 
80 
 
 right, the 162nd left centre, the 173d right centre, 
 deUvering their fire as they fell back." Though com- 
 pelled by overwhelming numbers to fall back, the 
 Brigade soon rallied upon General Smith's reserves, 
 and, in conjunction with them, charged and drove the 
 enemy to the low ground at the foot of the slope. 
 Here, re-enforced by another line that advanced from 
 the wgtods, the enemy attempted to reform, and 
 delivered a fire that not only checked our advance, 
 but to some extent reversed the movement. At this 
 point the struggle was fearful and the slaughter very 
 great, and success so ebbed and flowed that the event 
 seemed doubtful. A movement by another line, the 
 2nd Brigade, 1st Division 19 th Corps, which advanced 
 on the right between General Smith's troops and 
 Battery L, caused complete discomfiture to the enemy 
 in that part of the field, and so aided the left that the 
 Rebels were speedily driven over the open ground, 
 through the woods beyond ; the Brigade pursuing them 
 some miles, — indeed until darkness stopped further 
 pursuit. 
 
 Another New England man, an officer in one of the 
 New York Regiments, thus describes the battle from 
 another stand-point: "The enemy, finding a strong 
 force on our right and centre, massed a heavy body of 
 troops on the left, where our Division (1st) lay, and 
 about 5 P. M. drove in our skirmishers. We imme- 
 
81 
 
 diately lay down and waited for them to come out of 
 the woods. Just as they got to the edge of them, they 
 halted and gave a most hideous yell, such as Texan s 
 and Border ruffians alone can give; thinking that we 
 would immediately fire and show our position. But 
 in this they were much mistaken, for we lay still 
 under cover of the bushes in the valley. At that 
 moment our Artillery should have commenced firing, 
 but it did not. Finding that we did not fire, they rushed 
 out of the woods to the brow of the hill, and poured 
 tremendous volleys upon us, at the same time rushing 
 down the hill. Our Brigade poured several into them, 
 but found them coming in such overwhelming force 
 that we were obliged to fall back. The second line, see- 
 ing us coming back in such confusion, began to break, 
 but the officers succeeded in preserving the line until 
 a few volleys were fired, when it, and part of the third 
 line, broke. The Artillery then commenced firing, 
 and we rallied and immediately formed a new line. 
 By this time most of the Rebels were out of the woods 
 and rushing upon us -pell-mell. Now it was our time 
 to have something to say about it. * * * * 
 Our massed column pressed on and drove the fright- 
 ened Rebels two miles through the woods. In the 
 mean time they opened on our right and found more 
 than they expected there. They charged upon a Bat- 
 tery and took it, but to their sorrow, for our Infantry 
 
82 
 
 opened upon them such a terrific cross fire that they 
 fell like grass before the scythe, and what was left fell 
 back. It w^as now so dark that it was impossible to 
 distinguish one side from the other and the fighting 
 eased. * * * jf n^^j \^r^^ f^^.^^ ^ j-^|.jg jo^ygj. 
 
 while we were lying in the valley, they w^ould have 
 killed or wounded one half of our Brigade." Another 
 officer, a Captain, says : " While lying down, as we 
 were ordered to do, whole volleys from the Rebel ranks, 
 which came upon us five lines deep, yelling furiously, 
 passed over us, as their aim was too high, and we 
 could hear the bullets strike the knoll in our rear." 
 
 In Major General Franklin's letter, printed in the 
 Appendix, he writes : " Colonel Benedict came to 
 my Head-Quarters about 12 m., on the 9th, to obtain 
 permission from General Emory and myself to change 
 the position of his line ; indicating another, which, in 
 his opinion, was stronger and safer. We agreed to 
 the change and it was made." Some merits of the 
 new position are developed by the preceding extracts ; 
 but a further, obvious advantage may be stated : 
 the whole of the woods in front, and the slope from 
 them to the ditch at the bottom, were left free and 
 clear to be shelled by the Artillery, without the 
 slightest peril to the Brigade lying in the bushes along 
 the ditch ; which indeed might have added its own fire 
 to that of the Artillery. The silence of this Arm at so 
 
83 
 
 critical a moment appears remarkable in the absence 
 of any explanation of the fact ; and it is not easy to 
 resist the belief that a main advantage expected 
 from the change of position was not realized. 
 
 The theatre of this battle may be described as a 
 large open field that had once been cultivated, 
 but was then overgrown with weeds and bushes, 
 many of the latter the red rose of Louisiana. The 
 moderately elevated centre of the field, from which 
 the name Pleasant Hill comes, is merely a long 
 mound or ridge, scarcely entitled to be called a hill, 
 that, from its crown, descends gently to the ditch of 
 which mention has been made. Beyond the ditch, 
 an easy acclivity rises to a belt of timber which 
 encloses it, semi-circularly, on the side toward Shreve- 
 port, and out of which the attacking forces came. 
 The ditch, with its fringe of shrubbery, while it 
 afforded some cover, presented little or no obstruction 
 to the passage of troops. The front of the position, 
 occupied by Colonel Benedict's Brigade, extended 
 along this ditch. It was on the Pleasant Hill side of 
 this shallow valley that the final and decisive fighting 
 took place. On his way up, this locality had attracted 
 the Colonel's attention, and he expressed a belief that 
 there the Rebels would be fought; and when some 
 dissent was expressed, it was afterwards remembered 
 that he argued the probability almost with vehemence. 
 
84 
 
 Whether this impression was merely the result of 
 his military perception of the fitness of the place, or 
 one of those shadows said to be sometimes projected 
 by coming events, it is not worth while now to 
 consider; but certain it is that he was doomed to 
 illustrate in his own body the correctness of either 
 his convictions or his apprehensions. 
 
 In the conflict on the slope, and perhaps in the 
 melee of that critical moment when the reinforced 
 enemy caused our line to hesitate and even to recoil, 
 and the fortune of the day seemed doubtful ; Avhen, 
 by almost superhuman efforts on the part of the 
 officers, the men were rallied to that frantic charge 
 which gave victory to the Union Arms and saved its 
 Army, its Navy and its Jurisdiction in the Southwest, 
 Colonel Benedict fell. 
 
 This at least is the opinion of those, who, from 
 having seen him alive just before and his dead body 
 just after, are best qualified to judge, but unwearied 
 diligence has failed to find an eye witness of his fall. 
 Colonel Fessenden, of 30th Maine, his successor in 
 command of the Brigade, says: " I recollect that, just 
 as the enemy emerged from the woods, I looked round 
 and saw the Colonel sitting on his horse, on the brow 
 of the slope, by the side of his Brigade Color. He 
 was in full view of the whole attacking line of the 
 enemy. The Brigade fell back over that slope and I 
 
85 
 
 did not see him afterwards, but understood that he 
 fell, somewhat in front of, and near the place where 
 I last saw him." Lieutenant Colonel Blanchard, who 
 commanded his regiment, 162nd, in the action, states : 
 " I was engaged in ralljdng my men, when Colonel 
 Benedict rode up to me and gave me the following 
 order : " Colonel, rally your men and advance as 
 soon as possible," which was quickly done. These 
 w^ere the last words I had from him, and it was the 
 last time I saw him alive. He rode quickly to the 
 left of the line, and I advanced with the regiment." 
 Lieutenant Wm. C. Hawes, also of his own regiment, 
 concurs in opinion as to the time of his fall, and says 
 further : " Colonel Benedict was w^ounded in the 
 right arm, and his horse was wounded also ; but he 
 still pressed on, and in a few moments was shot 
 through the head and died instantly." Captain Samuel 
 Cowdrey, likewise of his own regiment, referring to 
 the same time, says : " At this time I did not see the 
 Colonel ; bat from every account he was then killed, 
 at the head of his Brigade, endeavoring to rally the 
 men. I did not see him fall, but, soon after, I dis- 
 covered him alone with an Orderly, his head resting 
 against a stump, and the Brigade Flag a few feet from 
 him ; and saw that he, whom we all had learned to 
 love and respect, was no more. In vain I tried to 
 
 arouse him, hoping he might not yet be dead; but, 
 12 
 
86 
 
 alas, lie was gone. He was killed instantaneously, 
 several bullets having pierced him." In point of fact, 
 he had received five balls; one through each arm, one 
 through the right leg above the knee, one through the 
 left foot, and one through the head. The general 
 impression was that he had fallen at the time and 
 under the circumstances indicated; and this belief 
 probably rested upon testimony that, to this hour, has 
 eluded the search of his friends. 
 
 A most discordant result followed this decisive 
 victory. A retreat, scarcely less precipitate than 
 might have been enforced by a complete rout, was 
 imposed on the victorious army. In the judgment of 
 those who had the right to decide such questions, the 
 general condition of affairs required this to be done. 
 It was only by the prompt activity of Captain Cowdrey, 
 one of his officers, that his body was rescued from the 
 field, conveyed to a building, for the time appropriated 
 to the uses of a hospital, and delivered to the Surgeon in 
 charge. The transportation of the Division not being 
 at hand, General Cameron, of the 13th Corps, on the 
 application of Lieutenant John H. Van Wyck, of the 
 deceased Colonel's Staff, kindly permitted it to be trans- 
 ported on one of his wagons, though having urgent need 
 himself of all the facilities of the kind he possessed for 
 the purposes of the retreat. Lieutenant Van Wyck 
 
87 
 
 was detailed to deliver it to the family of Colonel 
 Benedict, which duty he discharged with equal tender- 
 ness and fidelity. 
 
 In anticipation of its arrival, the Common Council 
 of Albany had appointed a Committee of its members 
 to receive the remains in New York, convey them to 
 the city, and order the arrangements for their inter- 
 ment. In the discharge of this duty, the Committee 
 returned with the body on Saturday, April 30th; and 
 in deference to the wishes of his family, laid it in 
 sorrow in his desolate home, rather than in state at 
 the Capitol, as had been designed. 
 
 Its presence in that house dead, where his advent, 
 living, had been so long hoped and prayed for, raised 
 still higher the floodgates of anguish opened by the 
 intelligence of his death. Some official expressions 
 of the sympathy felt by the community in the grief 
 of his family are recorded in the Appendix. 
 
 On Monday the 2nd of May, 1864, his shattered 
 body, followed by sad hearts and weeping eyes, was 
 removed from the dwelling of his mother to the house 
 of the Lord ; whence, after appropriate religious ser- 
 vices and an eloquent Commemorative Address, with 
 becoming civic and military honors and many im- 
 jpromptu manifestations of private regard and public 
 respect, it was borne on its last earthly pilgrimage to 
 the Albany Cemetery. And there, he was laid, for- 
 
88 
 
 ever to rest, within the shadow of his ftither's 
 monument ; around him, " his martial cloak " covered 
 with the dust of battle, rent by bullets and stiffened 
 with his blood. 
 
LINES 
 
 DEATH OF COLONEL LEWIS BENEDICT. 
 
 BY ALFRED B. STREET. 
 
 We laid him in his last and patriot rest ; 
 
 Dark Death but couched him on Fame's living breast. 
 
 We twine the sorrowing cypress o'er his grave, 
 
 And let the star-bright banner loftier wave 
 
 At mention of his deeds ! In manhood's prime, 
 
 Blossom the pinions waved by smiling Time. 
 
 He left life's warbling bowers for duty's path, 
 
 Where the fierce war-storm flashed its reddest wrath ; 
 
 Pavh proud, though rough. Out rang the trumpet's blast : 
 
 " To arms, to arms ! down to the dust is cast 
 
 The flag, the dear old flag, by treason's hand!" 
 
 And the deep thundering sound rolled onward through the laud. 
 
 In the quick throngs of fiery life that rushed 
 
 To smite for native land, till wrong was erushed 
 
 And right stood planted firm upon its rock. 
 
 None rose more glad, none bore the battle shock 
 
 More brave; — at blood-stained Williamsburg he drew 
 
 First his good sword; his eagle daring flew 
 
 Into the storm so deep, it wrapt him round; 
 
 But, scorning still to yield, he strove, till bound 
 
 Fast by the grasp of the admiring foe, 
 
 Struggling, though in the toil, still striking blow on blow. 
 
90 
 
 Pent in close prison walls — long, long black hours, 
 
 Yet the strong, skyward-pinioned spirit cowers 
 
 To naught; that steel-nerved will the loftier towers, 
 
 Treading the painful thorns like pleasant flowers. 
 
 Free once again, War's trumpet-clangors ring 
 
 The warrior to the birthplace of the Spring, 
 
 Where the stern Mississippi sea-like sweeps 
 
 To summer flowers, pine cones of wintry steeps. 
 
 Into Death's eyes again he fixed his gaze; 
 
 Lo, where Port Hudson's deadly batteries blaze. 
 
 Whose that tall form that towers when all lie low, 
 
 Brow to the sun and bosom to the foe ? 
 
 Brow to the sun, his brave sword in his hand. 
 
 Pointing "There — up and onward, patriot band!" 
 
 Again ! red batteries hurling awful hail 
 
 Like the fierce sleet that loads the thunderiris; ffale. 
 
 Banks crushed beneath showered shot and shell, like grain 
 
 By that same sleet, across the heaped-up plain 
 
 Full in the fort's hot, gaping hell, he leads 
 
 His stormers ; Slaughter drives his flashing steeds, 
 
 Trampling broad lanes amid the serried might. 
 
 But on, bathed deep in battle's awful light, 
 
 On that tall form, with lightnings all around; 
 
 Firm his proud step along the streaming ground. 
 
 Quaking with cannon-thunders; up his tread — 
 
 Up to the parapet, above his head 
 
 The starry flag borne by a hand that falls 
 
 Death-struck; he grasps the flag — the rebel walls 
 
 See the waved stars in that strong clutch, till back 
 
 The ebbing conflict dra^s him in its track. 
 
 Once more in other scenes he meets the foe. 
 O'ermatched, our columns stagger to their blow; 
 Vain on their squares bold Emory's files are hurled; 
 Backward the dashing cataract is whirled, 
 
91 
 
 Splintered to spray ; Oil, banner of tlie skies, 
 
 Flag of tlie rising constellations — dyes 
 
 Of dawn not sunset — shalt thou trail in dust? 
 
 Shall blind, dead darkness hide our blazing trust ! 
 
 On, braves ! but no — they pause — they reel — they break ! 
 
 Now like some towering crag no storm can shake — 
 
 Like some tall pine that soars when all the wood 
 
 Bows to the winds — some rock amid the flood — 
 
 Our hero stands ; he forms each tottering square. 
 
 Through them the blazing thunderbolts may tear, 
 
 But vain; — the bulwark stands, a living wall, 
 
 Between the foeman and that banner's fall. 
 
 Then, the dread last — oh, woful, woful day ! 
 
 Ah, the dimmed glory of that trophied fray ! 
 
 Ah, the fell shadow of that triumph's ray ! 
 
 Hurling the foeman's might back, back, at last 
 
 Onward he sweeps — on, on, as sweeps the blast ! 
 
 On through the keen, red, hissing air — ah, wo. 
 
 That ruthless fate should deal such cruel blow ! 
 
 On, through the keen, red, hurtling air — but see 
 
 That form — it reels — it sinks ! that heart, so free 
 
 To dare the battle-tempest's direst might. 
 
 Winged with the quick, fierce lightning of the fight. 
 
 And soaring through the victory's gladdening light. 
 
 Up to untroubled realms, hath passed in instant flight ! 
 
 Death, where he fell, in roses red inurnedi 
 
 His form — war's hue and love's — and they were turned 
 
 To laurels at the touch, and one green twine 
 
 From them the land hath wrought to deck the hero's shrine. 
 
 He fell in conflict's fiercest, wildest flame ; 
 And now his loved and laurelled ashes claim 
 Our heartfelt sorrow ! for among the brave, 
 
 1 Colonel Benedict fell literally on a bed of crimson roBes — the wild Louisiana rose. 
 
92 
 
 None braver ; and when battle left liis eye, 
 
 None softer ! Let the stricken Nation sigh 
 
 For such as he who perish by the way, 
 
 While up on crimson feet ghe toils to greet the day. 
 
 Ah, the bright hour he came, though weak and low 
 
 With prison languors ! Cheerily on were borne 
 
 The merry clang of the bells ; clang, clang, they rang ! 
 
 Joy in our hearts in jocund music sprang ! 
 
 And all shone pleasureful. One long, long toll. 
 
 One long, deep lingering sound that tells the goal 
 
 Of some spent life, then moans along the air 
 
 As sorrowing hands our hero's ashes bear 
 
 To lie in honored state. We saw his form 
 
 Sprinkled with blossoms breathing fresh and warm; 
 
 That form so still, so peaceful to our gaze, 
 
 That soared so grand amid the battle's blaze, 
 
 Scorning the shrieking shell, the whizzing ball, 
 
 Sleeping so still beneath his warrior-pall. 
 
 We bore him to his sylvan home ; there flowers 
 
 Should o'er him smile ; but chief, the oak, that towers 
 
 Unbent by blasts, and breaks but to the dart 
 
 Of the red bolt, from that heroic heart 
 
 Should spring ; for, mid his kindly graces soared 
 
 A firm-knit will — a purpose strong, that warred 
 
 In deep disdain of Fortune's fitful breath. 
 
 And only bowed its rock-clutched strength to Death. 
 
 There shall he lie. When our new kindled sun 
 
 Shall dawn, his first rejoicing rays shall run 
 
 In gold o'er graves like his — Fame's gold — tlvit Time 
 
 Shall brighten — and his monument sublime. 
 
 Oh seek it not in stone, but in piled hearts 
 
 That loved him ! the carved marble soon departs. 
 
9: 
 
 But the lieart's token, sent througli ages down, 
 
 Warm in its living might, mocks Time's most witherina; frown. 
 
 Blessed is he who suffers ; ^ and we know 
 A solemn joy, that one whose manhood's glow 
 Faded so soon, should die to mark how grand 
 Above all fleeting life, to die for Native Land. 
 
 1 Benedictus qui patitur. Motto of the Benedict Family. 
 
 13 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 EXPRESSIONS OF THE PUBLIC PRESS. 
 
 \_Neto Orleans Era.'\ 
 
 Remains of Colonel Benedict, 
 
 Tlie corpse of tlie brave Colonel Benedict is now in 
 this city. Of tlie vast number of officers and men that fell 
 in this terrible conflict, none will be more gratefully remem- 
 bered by liis country. He died like a hero at his post, 
 while gallantly leading his Brigade against the enemy. 
 
 \_Buffalo Express.'] 
 
 Colonel Lewis Benedict, 162d N. Y. 
 
 In the list of the killed at the late battle on the Red 
 River is the name of Lewis Benedict, a man widely known 
 and well loved throughout this State — the second son of 
 the late Lewis Benedict, Esq., of Albany. Colonel Bene- 
 dict entered the army at the outbreak of the Rebellion, as 
 Lieut. Col. in Sickles' Brigade. While leading his raw 
 regiment, sword in hand, into its first fight at Williams- 
 burg, he was taken prisoner, and underwent a long 
 confinement in the horrible Libby Prison. After his 
 liberation, he was appointed Colonel of the 162d IS". Y. 
 
96 
 
 Vols., and has since served in Louisiana. The death of 
 this amiable, talented, brave man and patriotic soldier, 
 will carry grief into an extensive family circle, of which 
 he was the idol, ^o better or braver man has laid down 
 his life for his country than the Albany boy, " Lew. 
 Benedict." Peace to his ashes ! He met the death he 
 most coveted — fell fighting for freedom. Let the patriotic 
 men of his native city rear a fitting monument to the 
 memory of one of its most chivalric sons. 
 
 [iVew York Tribune.'\ 
 
 Colonel Benedict. 
 
 Among the good and true men whose lives have been 
 freely given to save their country from disruption and 
 overthrow, scarcely one has been or will be more justly or 
 deeply deplored than Col. Lewis Benedict of Albany, 
 who fell pierced with five bullets and lifeless while com- 
 manding and leading the left wing of the Union army at 
 the battle of Pleasant Hill, Upper Louisiana, on the 9th 
 inst. Col. Benedict was the son of the eminent merchant 
 of like name recently deceased, after an active and influ- 
 ential career of half a century. His son, who inherited 
 much of the father's eminent ability and positive, down- 
 right character, volunteered for the "War soon after the 
 Rebels fired on Fort Sumter — aiding to recruit and disci- 
 pline the Sickles Brigade — and has ever since been in' 
 active service. He was wounded and taken prisoner in 
 the "hottest forefront of the battle " at Williamsburg, two 
 years ago. Transferred to the Gulf, he there evinced 
 talent and energy that commended him to the favor of his 
 Commanding General, so that, though ranking as a Colo- 
 nel, he commanded a brigade when he met death in the 
 
97 
 
 desperate but glorious battle of Pleasant Hill. It will 
 somewliat console liis many devoted friends to know that 
 he did not fall till the sunlight of victory was gleaming on 
 our charging columns, so that his last look of earth turned 
 with pride as well as affection to the flag and the land for 
 which, in his early prime, he joyfully laid down his life. 
 
 [iVew York Commercial Advertiser. ~\ 
 
 OBITUARY. 
 
 Col. Lewis Benedict, 162d I^ew York Volunteers. 
 
 The advices from New Orleans give a partial list of the 
 killed and wounded in tlie battles in Western Louisiana. 
 Amono; the best known names is that of Col. Lewis 
 Benedict, of the 162d ]^ew York Volunteers. 
 
 Col. Benedict, who was a son of the late Lewis Benedict, 
 of Albany, was born in 1817. He graduated at Williams 
 College, and practised law in Albany. In 1861 he was a 
 member of the Legislature, and in the Summer of that 
 year entered the army as Lieut. Col. of the Fire Zouaves. 
 At the battle of Williamsburg he was distinguished for 
 bravery, and was taken prisoner. He entered that battle 
 almost helpless fi'om a sprained ankle, and leaning on the 
 arm of an Orderly. A confinement of three months fol- 
 lowed in the prison-house of Richmond and Salisbury, 
 when he was finally exchanged, and was one of the officers 
 that received an ovation in New York with Col. Corcoran. 
 
 In the Fall of 1862, Col. Benedict was appointed to the 
 command of the 16 2d New York Volunteers, which went 
 out with the Banks Expedition. In the battles of the 
 Department of the Gulf Col. Benedict has been conspi- 
 cuous, and he has always borne the reputation of a brave 
 
98 
 
 soldier and an accomplished officer. On tlie 14tli of June 
 last, lie commanded a Brigade which made an attack on 
 Port Hudson. At the storming of Port Hudson, he and 
 Col. Birge were designated as leaders of the Forlorn Hope. 
 For some time past he has commanded the 3d Brigade of 
 the 1st Division of the 19th Army Corps. In every 
 capacity Col. Benedict has nohly acquitted himself, fully 
 securing the tardy recognition of merit that, in many other 
 instances, was all too swift to fall upon the undeserving. 
 The country which mourns the loss of so many precious 
 lives has need of such soldiers as Col. Benedict. 
 
 \_Albani/ Evening Journal.'^ 
 
 Death of Col. Lewis Benedict. 
 
 The reported death of Col. Lewis Benedict is confirmed 
 by letters from Grand Ecore, near the scene of the engage- 
 ment. He was pierced by five balls, and instantly killed, 
 while gallantly leading his Brigade in the final charge. 
 No braver man ever lived, and he died, as he wished to 
 die, fighting for the Old Flag, with his face to the foe. 
 
 Lewis Benedict was born in Albany, Sept. 2d, 1817. 
 He graduated at Wilhams College, and studied law, in 
 Canandaigua, with John C. Spencer. After his admission 
 to the bar, he became a partner of Marcus T. Reynolds, in 
 this city. He was Judge Advocate General in the Staft' of 
 Govs. Young and Fish; was subsequently elected to the 
 office of Surrogate of the County, and also to the Assembly 
 of the State. 
 
 When the "War first lu'oke out, he was still engaged in 
 the practice of the Law, but, determining to give his service 
 to his country, in June, 1861, he was commissioned as 
 Lieut. Col. of the 73d Regt., Excelsior Brigade, with which 
 
99 
 
 regiment he went into the Peninsular campaign, shared its 
 earher hardships and fought hravely at Wilhamsburg, 
 where he was captured. He was taken to Richmond, 
 where, and at Sahsbury, N. C, he was the companion of 
 Cols. Corcoran, Wilcox, &c. 
 
 After an imprisonment of several months, he was ex- 
 changed, and, in September, 1862 (one month after his 
 exchange), he was commissioned Colonel of the 162d (3d 
 Metropolitan) Eegiment. 
 
 In October the Regiment proceeded to New Orleans, but, 
 owing to various mishaps to the fleet, it did not reach the 
 city until in December. 
 
 In January, 1863, he was designated Acting Brigadier, 
 and, in that capacity, was actively employed, rendering 
 important service previous to the siege of Port Hudson, 
 where he was conspicuous in most of the terrible fights 
 during that memorable siege. He was foremost in the 
 fearful slaughter of June 14, and when it was decided to 
 storm the fort. Col. Benedict was given command of the 
 2d Battahon selected to serve as the "Forlorn Hope." 
 This selection was a tribute to his coolness and courage, 
 and marked the estimation in which he was held by the 
 General in command. 
 
 From that time forward, he has followed Gen. Banks 
 through all his marches and victories. His last command, 
 the 3d Brigade of the 1st Division and 19th Corps, was 
 composed of the 116th, 162d, and 165th K Y., two Maine 
 Regiments, and an Independent Battery. No brigade 
 fought more courageously, or did more to turn the tide of 
 battle. When its commander fell, the country lost one of 
 its noblest soldiers, and the Brigade an oflicer whom they 
 were proud to follow. 
 
 Col. Benedict was a man of noble and generous im- 
 pulses. He loved his country with an intensity which 
 forbade hesitation or compromise when its integrity or 
 
100 
 
 glory was involved. And he was as brave as he was 
 patriotic. 'No man ever probably knew less of the sensa- 
 tion of fear. Those who have been with him on the field, 
 speak of his bravery with enthusiasm, and refer to his 
 calmness in the heat of battle with admiration. He had, 
 in the highest degree, all the elements of a hero, combined 
 with the still greater qualities of a cool, safe and thoughtful 
 leader in the deadly strife. 
 
 The death of Col. Benedict is a sad blow to his sorrow- 
 ing relatives, and their grief will be shared by all who 
 knew the deceased. But they have this consolation, that 
 he died in the hour of Victory, at the head of his brave 
 Brigade, while pursuing the retreating enemy. His name 
 will go down to posterity among those who have given 
 their lives to their Country, and his memory will ever be 
 fragrant with those who appreciate true courage and 
 exalted patriotism. 
 
 Death of Col, Lewis Benedict. 
 
 The rumor of Saturday, which pierced so many hearts, 
 finds painful confirmation in to-day's intelligence. Col. 
 Lewis Benedict, acting as Brigadier General, fell at the 
 head of his Troops in the disastrous Battle of Pleasant 
 Hill. 
 
 This blow falls heavily upon a bereaved Mother, Bro- 
 thers and Sisters, and grieves a large circle of warmly 
 attached Friends. Col. Benedict, second son of the late 
 Lewis Benedict, was " native," and to this " Manor born." 
 Patriotic and chivalrous, in sentiment and impulses, when 
 the RebelHon broke out, he tendered his services and — as 
 the sequel proves — his life to his Country. In the early 
 part of the War he was a Prisoner for several months in 
 ISTorth Carolina. 
 
 Soon after his exchange he was promoted to the com- 
 
101 
 
 mand of the 162d Eegiment, with which he has done duty 
 for a year iu Louisiana. He was engaged in the assault 
 upon Port Hudson, where his Regiment suffered severely. 
 And now, having " fought his last battle," he has gone, 
 where so many gallant Albanians have preceded him, to 
 his final Review. 
 
 l^Adas and Arffus-I 
 
 Death of Col. Lewis Benedict. 
 
 We forebore to speak of the death of Col. Benedict 
 while the event was in doubt. An officer of the same name 
 was in service in the West, and this had before been the 
 source of some confusion. The sad event is confirmed, 
 however, by details too clear to afford hope of mistake. 
 The account of the third day's fight, on the Red River, says : 
 
 " Our left. Col. Benedict's Brigade, came into action 
 first, and soon after our right and centre were engaged. 
 The battle now raged fiercely, the air was full of lead and 
 iron, and the roar of musketry and artillery incessant. 
 The carnage on both sides was fearful, the men fighting 
 almost hand to hand, and with great desperation. Nothing 
 could exceed the determined bravery of our troops; but 
 it was evident Emory's Division was fighting the whole 
 Army. Pressed at all points by overwhelming numbers, 
 our line fell back up the hill to the 16th Corps, which was 
 concealed just behind the crest. 
 
 " Taylor's Battery for a time fell into the hands of the 
 enemy. 
 
 " Gen. Smith made all preparations to receive the advanc- 
 ing foe, and, as the human tide came rolling up the hill, he 
 looked quietly on until the enemy were almost up to the 
 14 
 
102 
 
 muzzle of liis guns, when a sheet of flame flashed along 
 his lines, and, with the crash of ten thousand thunders, 
 musket balls mingled with grape and canister swept the 
 plain like a besom of destruction. Hundreds fell dead 
 and dying before that awful fire. 
 
 " Scarcely had the seething lead left the guns when the 
 word " charge " was given, and seven thousand brave men 
 precipitated themselves upon the shattered ranks of the 
 enemy, Emory's Division, which had only yielded to 
 superior numbers and remained unbroken, now rushed 
 forward and joined the 16th Corps, driving the rebels 
 rapidly down the hill to the woods, where they broke and 
 fled in the greatest confusion and dismay. 
 
 " Col. Benedict, loMle gallantly leading his brigade in the 
 charge, fell dead, j^ierced hg jive halls. 
 
 " The battle was fought and the victory won. Our troops 
 followed up the rebels until night put an end to the pursuit." 
 
 The account goes on to say that " our victorious army 
 slept on the battle field, which was one of the most glorious 
 of the war." 
 
 Among those who thus slept — never more to wake — was 
 CoL. Lewis Benedict, commanding 3d Brigade, 1st Divi- 
 sion, 19th Corps. He was acting as Brigadier General, and 
 his name was before the Senate for promotion to that grade. 
 
 CoL. Benedict had, while quite young, been Surrogate 
 of Albany county, which he had also represented in the 
 Assembly. He was a successful lawyer, and might have 
 found, in civil and political life, ample opportunities of 
 advancement. He had identified himself with the militia 
 of the State — in the Burgesses Corps, and the Albany 
 Cavalry, which latter he first organized — and when the 
 civil war broke out, his inclination as well as his sense of 
 duty and the fervor of his political sentiments called him 
 into the service. He was eminently suited to this career. 
 A fine person, a vigorous frame, the habit of command, a 
 
103 
 
 gallant demeanor, and honorable ambition, formed the 
 elements of bis success and advancement. 
 
 Once in, be never turned back. The death of his father 
 left him an adequate fortune, but he cast it aside to pursue 
 the fortunes of war. He was wounded, was for six months 
 a prisoner, suffering severe privations and dangers even 
 then, and was struck down with malaria and all but 
 wrecked in health ; but none of these things daunted his 
 • spirit. He might have sought and found inglorious ease 
 in civil life, or in some semi-military appointment remote 
 from danger. He preferred a soldier's grave ! 
 
 Upon that grave, when he is gathered among his kins- 
 men and fellow citizens, many a tear wiU be shed, and 
 many a flower will be cast by hands that once clasped 
 his in youthful friendship or in the glow of generous 
 manhood. 
 
 l^Albany Morning Bxjjress.'] 
 
 Col. Lewis Benedict Eeported Killed. 
 
 Our citizens were startled Saturday afternoon at the 
 announcement that Col. Lewis Benedict, of this city, was 
 killed in one of the recent battles in the Eed River country. 
 CoL. B. was in command of the 3d Brigade, 1st Division 
 19th Army Corps, and in the terrible and decisive battle of 
 Pleasant Hill, when the Rebels were so signally defeated 
 with frightful slaughter, held the left of the line. Accord- 
 ing to the accounts received, his Brigade first engaged the 
 enemy, and, although no particulars of his death have been 
 received, it is probable he met a soldier's fate early in the 
 fight. 
 
 CoL. Benedict, Gen. Sickles says, was as brave a soldier 
 as there was in the Army. Where danger was the most 
 
104 
 
 imminent there could lie be fonnd in the moment of peril, 
 cheering his men to the performance of their duty, and by 
 his own intrepidity and fearlessness setting an example 
 of devotion to country and patriotism, that his men felt 
 proud to emulate. He was beloved and respected by 
 officers and men alike, and there will be no more sincere 
 mourners in the circle of his home acquaintances than can 
 be found in the ranks of the Brigade over which he acted 
 as Commandant. 
 
 Col. Benedict was a lawyer by profession, and aban- 
 doned it to enter the Army, accepting the Lt. Colonelcy of 
 the 73d Regt. N. Y. S. V., Excelsior Brigade. He served 
 one term as Surrogate of the County, and represented the 
 Second District of the County in the Legislature of 1861. 
 After being admitted as a lawyer he became junior partner 
 of the then well-known firm of Reynolds & Woodrufl:^ — 
 Marcus T. Reynolds and Samuel M. Woodruff — taking 
 the entire charge of the otfice or jjractice business. It was 
 at this time that the writer commenced the study of the 
 law, acting as clerk to the late Col. B., and being asso- 
 ciated with him several years. He was, formerly, a promi- 
 nent Whig politician, and of late years, was a member of 
 the Republican party. He was, for many years, one of the 
 most active members of the old Burgesses Corps, and was 
 one of the founders of the City Cavalry, an organization, 
 at one time, second to no other of the kind in the State. 
 He was perfectly conversant with military tactics when he 
 entered the army, and soon became distinguished in the 
 brigade as one of its most competent ofiicers. 
 
 The news of his death, of which we regret to say we 
 fear there can be slight doubt, will be received with sorrow 
 and sadness by his very many friends in this city not only, 
 but in different sections of the State. He was a man of 
 generous impulses and fine mental acquirements. He was 
 a warm friend, and in his dealings with his fellows, was 
 
105 
 
 ever tlie gentleman. By his death the country has lost a 
 gallant officer. Rest to his spirit. 
 
 \_Albany Knickerbocker. '\ 
 
 Death of Col. Lew Benedict. 
 
 The telegraj)h, on Saturday, brought the sad intelligence 
 that CoL. Lew Benedict, of this city, was among the slain 
 at the battle in Western Louisiana. It was sorrowful news 
 indeed. But few men were better known in Albany than 
 Col. Benedict. It was the home of his birth, his boyhood 
 and riper years. IsTo man was more loved, esteemed and 
 respected than our departed friend. He was frank, noble, 
 generous — attributes that attached to him many warm and 
 devoted friends who will mourn his loss. Col. Benedict 
 was a thoroughly educated and accomplished gentleman. 
 He graduated at "Williams College, studied Law in this city 
 with Marcus T. Reynolds, held the offices of City Attorney, 
 Surrogate and Member of Assembly, and was honored 
 with the nomination of Recorder and many other places by 
 his party. He was among the first on the breaking out of 
 the Rebellion to offi3r his services to the Government. In 
 the campaign on the Peninsula, at the terrible slaughter at 
 Williamsburg, Col. Benedict was made prisoner, and for 
 nearly a year was confined in the Libby Prison. N'o sooner 
 was he paroled and exchanged than he again entered the ser- 
 vice, and has been one of Gen. Banks' most true and tried 
 officers in the campaign in Louisiana. He took an active 
 part in the reduction of Port Hudson ; twice he led his 
 Brigade up to " the jaws of death." The men under him 
 believed that he " bore a charmed life " and could not be 
 struck with rebel missiles, so bold, daring and reckless was 
 he in the hour of danger. The Army had few braver men 
 than Col. Lew Benedict. 
 
106 
 
 \_Standard and Statesman.'] 
 
 Death of Col. Lew Benedict. 
 
 It is with heartfelt sorrow that we announce the death 
 of CoL. Lew Benedict. He was killed on the Red River 
 while gallantly fighting in defence of the Old Flag. Colo- 
 nel Benedict was one of the most popular young men ever 
 born in this city. He was a man of large talent, large 
 heart and generous sentiment. He has held the office of 
 member of Assembly, Surrogate, Alderman, &c. He 
 made a splendid officer — cool, daring and effective. The 
 service could not have sustained a more serious loss. 
 
 [^Times and Courier.'] 
 
 Death of Col. Lewis Benedict. 
 
 Among the victims of the recent battles oh the Red 
 River, we are grieved to find the name of our well-known 
 townsman. Col. Lewis Benedict, of the 162d ISTew York. 
 Col. Benedict entered the service shortly after the break- 
 ing out of the War, and, with the exception of a brief 
 furlough to recruit his shattered health after his long 
 imprisonment at Salisbury, was constantly engaged in 
 active duty up to the time of his death. Shortly after his 
 release from imprisonment, he went to N"ew Orleans with 
 the Banks expedition, and participated in all the hardships, 
 perils and glories of the army of the Southwest. He leaves 
 a wide circle of sorrowing friends by whom his memory 
 will be preserved for his patriotism, his bravery, his suffer- 
 ing, and his final death in the cause of his country. 
 
107 
 
 PROCEEDINGS IN REGARD TO THE 
 FUNERAL. 
 
 Common Council. 
 
 Monday, April, 25, 8, p.m. 
 
 Present — Aids. Amsdell, Barliydt, Corning, Cowell, 
 Gould, Johnson, Kennedy, ISIcCarty, McCollum, Mclntyre, 
 Mulcahj, N'olan, Orr, Quinn, Reynolds, Rodgers, Sill, 
 Tracey, "Wilson. In the absence of the Mayor and Re- 
 corder Alderman Johnson was chosen to preside. 
 
 Alderman Rodgers offered the following Resolution : 
 
 Resolved, That his Honor the Mayor appoint a committee 
 of three for the purpose of making and perfecting all 
 arrangements necessary to pay due honors and respect to 
 the remains of Colonel Lewis Benedict (who fell in lead- 
 ing his Brigade in the late battle of Red River) on their 
 arrival in Albany. 
 
 Adopted. 
 
 And Aids. Rodgers, Gould and Sill were appointed. 
 
 Head-quarters Twenty-fifth Regiment 
 N. Y. S. N. G. Albany, April 30, 1864 
 
 :} 
 
 General Orders, No. 5. 
 
 The Colonel commanding is pained to announce to his 
 command the death of another gallant officer. Col. Lewis 
 Benedict, of the 162d N^ew York Volunteers, who fell at 
 the post of duty as Acting Brigadier General in the late 
 disastrous battle on the Red River. 
 
 CoL. Benedict, formerly a Captain in our Regiment, 
 like our former Colonels, Frisby and Bryan, and scores of 
 
108 
 
 other brave officers, formerly members of tbe Twenty-fiftb 
 Regiment, has given his hfe to his country and we are 
 now called upon to pay to his remains the last tribute of 
 respect due to a fellow-soldier. 
 
 He was able, generous and brave as the bravest. In 
 honor of his memory, the Regiment is hereby ordered to 
 assemble at the Armory, on Monday, May 2d, 1864, at 1 
 o'clock, fully armed and equipped, to attend his Funeral 
 and escort his remains to their last resting place. 
 
 The Colonel most earnestly enjoins uj)on the Command- 
 ants of Companies to use every effort to appear with full 
 ranks. It is due to the deceased as a chivalrous and gal- 
 lant patriot and as our former associate. 
 
 By order of Col. Walter S. Church. 
 
 J. M. Kimball, Adjutant. 
 
 ORDER OF ARRANGEMENTS 
 
 Of the Funeral Ceremonies of the Late Col. Benedict, to 
 take place this afternoon, May 2. 
 
 OBDEK OF PKOOESSIOW. 
 
 Police, under command of Chief Johnson. 
 
 schrieber's band. 
 
 25th Regiment, National Guard, State of N. Y., Col. Church. 
 
 HEARSE. 
 
 Flanked by Company A, Capt. Pochin, as Guard of Honor. 
 
 Relatives of deceased. 
 
 Military Mourners — Officers of 10th Regiment, K.Y.S.N.G., 
 
 and Officers of U. S. Volunteers. 
 
 Governor and Staff". 
 
 State Officers. 
 
 Mayor and Common Council. 
 
 BRIGADE BAND. 
 
 Fire Department, under Chief McQuade. 
 
 Civic Societies. 
 
 Citizens. 
 
109 
 
 The 25tli Regiment will form on Chapel street, left rest- 
 ing on Maiden Lane. 
 
 Military mourners will form in Pine st., right on Chapel. 
 
 The Fire Department w\\\ form on Pine street, left of 
 military mourners. 
 
 The Civic Societies will report to the Grand Marshal, at 
 1 o'cloclc, p. M. 
 
 The Procession will move precisely at 2 p. m., from the 
 Second Presbyterian Church, down Chapel to State street, 
 down State to l^orth Pearl, up N'orth Pearl to Clinton Ave- 
 nue, thence to Broadwa}^, up Broadway to the north bounds 
 of the city, where carriages and cars will be in waiting. 
 By order of Col. Walter S. Church, 
 
 Grand Marshal. 
 
 Proceedings in the Supreme Court. 
 
 Albany General Term of the Supreme Court, May 2, 1864. — 
 Present, Hons. R. "W". Peckham, Theodore Miller and 
 Charles P. Ingalls, Justices. 
 
 Judge Wright, of Albany, addressed the Court as follows : 
 
 May it please the Court — I rise to make a motion in rela- 
 tion to an event which has already been announced by the 
 public journals, — an event which has caused as deep a 
 sensation of sorrow, and as profound a regret, as any 
 other of a similar character which has affected this com- 
 munity since the commencement of this unholy, and 
 accursed Rebellion. 
 
 This is not the first, nor the second time that the Bar of 
 this City has been called on to manifest its respect for those 
 who have gone forth to battle for their Country, and to 
 sympathize with the friends of those who have fallen in its 
 defense. 
 
 15 
 
110 
 
 Among the gallant and patriotic men of onr own circle 
 who have fallen, none occnpiecl a higher position, none 
 presented a stronger claim for our respect and admiration 
 than Col. Lewis Benedict, whose funeral obsequies are 
 this day to be solemnized by a sympathizing and grateful 
 community. • 
 
 I knew the deceased as a student at Law. I knew him 
 as a practitioner after his admission to the Bar ; and since 
 the commencement of this war I have known him as a 
 brave and gallant soldier, fighting for the preservation of 
 that Constitution, and that Union, which we all so dearly 
 cherish. In all these relations I have respected and 
 honored him. But on this occasion, it is to the unselfish 
 and patriotic sacrifice of his life to aid in the salvation 
 of his country, that I especially refer. Upon these quali- 
 ties I will not now dwell. I trust that another and more 
 fitting opportunity will be afforded to the Albany Bar, to 
 express their high appreciation of his character as a man, 
 and their unqualified admiration of his gallant bearing, 
 and chivalrous character as an officer. 
 
 I beg leave to submit the following Resolution, and 
 
 request that it be entered on the minutes of the Court : 
 
 Resolved 1 That tliis Court do now adjourn, in order to give its 
 members, and the members of the Bar in attendance thereon, an 
 opportunity to unite in the funeral ceremonies of CoL. Lewis 
 Benedict, who lately fell in the State of Louisiana, whilst gallantly 
 leading the brigade he commanded to battle and to victory, to 
 sustain the Constitution, and to preserve the Union. 
 
 Mr. Justice Peckham, the presiding Judge, after some 
 
 impressive remarks, expressive of his high appreciation of 
 
 the character of Col. Benedict, as a citizen and a soldier, 
 
 stated that the Court concurred in the propriety of the 
 
 resolution, and directed it to be entered on the minutes, 
 
 and adjourned the Court accordingly. 
 
WOEDS SPOKEN AT THE OBSEQUIES 
 
 LATE COLONEL LEWIS BENEDICT 
 
 BY THE REV. C. D. W. BRIDGMAN. 
 
 An unusual occasion has opened these doors, which turn 
 to only sacred uses, and drawn us to this house of prayer. 
 Flags waving so lowly from every staiF — the martial tramp 
 of those who gather in the street below to a solemn and 
 impressive ceremonial — this vast assembly, of aspect so 
 grave and sad — the group which set apart, fenced in by 
 thoughts and griefs into which only the omniscient One can 
 look — the mournful strains of the choir, intermingled 
 with the pathetic, beseeching, but submissive lament of the 
 organ, as though itself felt an agony and at the same time 
 an inspiration from the Comforter : all indicate that calamity 
 has fallen here — that an overwhelming sorrow has burst 
 upon us, the waves of which can be rolled back only by 
 Him whose presence so often is invoked in this holy place. 
 
 A man has fallen whom most of you well knew : gifted 
 and generous, honorable and brave — an honored son of 
 this ancient capital, whose family name is written high on 
 the roll of her citizens — a brother of ours, in whom the 
 natural elements of manliness were mingled in due propor- 
 tion, and who, through his maturing years, swept a wide 
 circle of influence in this city and State — a soldier worthy 
 of his name, and the record of whose fidelity to duty, of 
 sacrifices cheerfully endured for our common weal, is his 
 
112 
 
 commanding claim to be associated with tlie accomplislied 
 heroes whom our old, imperial State has freely offered to 
 the hazards of this great struggle, and whose blood has 
 been the price of her self-renouncing devotion. 
 
 Of Lewis Benedict, whose empty tabernacle lies here 
 before us — emptied of all that gave it comeliness and made 
 it dear — let me speak in but few words : not in the style of 
 impassioned panegyric, as when the Athenian father pro- 
 nounced the oration over his son who had fought valiantly in 
 the battle, but with the brevity befitting one who forms 
 his estimate only from the testimony of others, and with 
 the soberness which ever becomes us in the sanctuary of 
 God and in the presence of death. 
 
 Born in this city, of a pure and honored parentage, his 
 youth was full of grace and duty, and expressed, in con- 
 stant testimony, the rare devotedness of his filial love. 
 Earnest in his studies as he was zealous and enterprising in 
 the amusements which relieved his sober pursuits, he was 
 soon prepared for a higher instruction than our city afforded, 
 and, at an early age, was registered as a student in Wil- 
 liams College. Shaping his course with care and energy, 
 he was honorably graduated in the year 1837, and returned 
 three years thereafter to deliver the Master's oration. 
 Devoting himself to the profession of law, he entered upon 
 its study in the ofiice of the late Mr. Spencer, with the same 
 ardor of pursuit as when he seized the prizes in our 
 Academy and earned the honors in his collegiate career. 
 
 Shortly afterward, he became associated with a gentle- 
 man then in the zenith of his professional fame and intel- 
 lectual vigor, and was elevated at once to a position in the 
 profession not attained, perhaps, as often as it is deserved. 
 But, having risen to this height, and given sucli promise 
 of a brilliant career, and being possessed of a sufiicient 
 inheritance, his former stimulus seems to have failed him ; 
 and, where others regarded the profession as an agency for 
 
113 
 
 the accumulation of wealth or winning a wide, enduring 
 fame, he looked upon it rather as a manual of intellectual 
 exercise. Turning his thoughts, at this time, from subjects 
 purely legal, he engaged himself in the study of those poli- 
 tical questions which were then commanding the popular 
 attention, and, by a diligent reading, fortified in him those 
 principles his father had so faithfully adhered to and 
 defended, and which have become the controlling princi- 
 ples in our national policy. Though possessed of a highly 
 cultivated taste, that was shocked by rude appeals — with 
 a mind enriched by a varied reading and observation, and by 
 intercourse with refined society at home and abroad — there 
 was that social, generous nature underneath which toned 
 away the scholar's dignity and gave such an easy grace to 
 every accomplishment as that they interposed no barrier 
 between himself and the humblest one he knew. Of such 
 easy access, so cordial in his treatment of all, it is not strange 
 that soon he should have been appealed to by his political 
 friends to serve for their candidate, nor that from this time 
 he should be met less often in the forum than in the arenas 
 where pubHc questions furnish the themes of debate, and 
 political action becomes definitely determined. With a 
 varied fortune, he continued the career thus opened to him, 
 until the nation's hour of peril came ; and, when the alarm- 
 trumpet was sounded, waking us all from our dull, strange 
 apathy, it fell on his quick ear as an imperative summons 
 that he could not shut out. 
 
 Upon the adjournment of the Legislature of which he was 
 then a member, he gave himself, with the devotion his later 
 life so constantly illustrates, to the service of his country. 
 The cause that then seemed to him — as it now seems to 
 all — the cause of human liberty, engaged his earnest acti- 
 vities ; and, to serve it intelligently and well, in the only way 
 our enemies permitted, he strove, by a diligent study, to 
 prepare himself for the duties of the position to which he 
 
114 
 
 was early commissioned. Tbe old stimulus again is felt — 
 his former habits are revived. Writing to liis father, with 
 reference to this, he says : "I have followed your advice 
 about study, or rather I anticipated it, for since my deter- 
 mination was formed to take an active part in the war, I 
 have felt that one assuming any command incurs a grave 
 responsibility." 
 
 l^ot from hasty impulse did he gird on the harness of 
 the soldier — not from a blind frenzy, or feverish ambition ; 
 but as one who detected the deep meanings of this strug- 
 gle, and whose soul was afire with love and duty, toward 
 our Government and liberties. Cheerfully he threw his 
 life into the struggle, without a scruple — with the ancient, 
 judging it sweet and decorous to die, if need be, for his 
 country's safety. As an expression of the sentiment that 
 ruled him, let me read to you an extract from a letter to 
 his mother, written whilst the siege of Yorktown was in 
 progress; " I am pained to learn that so much apprehen- 
 sion for my safety is mingled with the gratification you feel 
 at my being in a position to do service to my country. 
 I know it is impossible for a mother to forget her son ; but 
 I would, if I could, inspire you. with the pride I feel in 
 devoting my life to the cause of Freedom and the Union. 
 Thus far, though I have endeavored to do, as far as my 
 frail nature would permit, my duty to man" — and the 
 truth of this, his carefulness for the interests of his men 
 most constantly affirms — "I know I have not forgotten 
 myself as I should in many instances have done ; but, in the 
 struggle to be soon inaugurated here, the opportunity will 
 be given me to furnish unmistakable evidence that I am 
 animated by the noblest sentiments — that I can resign life, 
 which I love, that my country may again enjoy the bless- 
 ings of peace and the development of its beneficent prin- 
 ciples of government. Politically acting, I have sought its 
 weal — personally, my life belongs to it in its woe : so that 
 
115 
 
 I view the result of the battle with complacency. If I 
 survive — as I hope I will — no fortunes in future life can 
 destroy my consciousness of having periled life for right ; 
 and, if I fall, through all the grief which you and our dear 
 ones will feel, will breathe the consolation that I was a 
 soldier, fighting in a just cause. Let that feeling, dear 
 mother, console you, as it reconciles me to the chances of 
 this war." 
 
 What patriot ever has penned nobler words than these ? 
 Who among us has risen to a more illustrious height of 
 patriotic devotion? Above the voices of home and 
 congenial companionships he hears the awful trump of 
 duty, and that is the incitement by which he marches — 
 the imperious summons to self-renunciation, and possibly 
 to death. Shortly after those words were traced, he was 
 taken a prisoner ; but returned from the enemy's hands 
 only to give himself anew for the work to M^hich he had 
 given himself with so entire a consecration. Although 
 greatly impaired in health, he accepts a new command, 
 and leaves again for a more distant field, where he is 
 called on to assume a larger responsibility than is strictly 
 involved with his commission. But his intelligence and 
 wisely-regulated zeal, and subsequent successes, attest 
 that the honor was properly awarded, and attracts the fre- 
 quent commendations of those above him in the command. 
 In charge of the brigade to which he was assigned, he 
 was engaged in that — thus far — unfortunate expedition, 
 wherein so many have made their final sacrifice; and, 
 while gallantly leading it against the enemy on the third 
 day of that fierce struggle, he fell — passing away in one 
 swift pain — another victim in this awful strife. 
 
 So suddenly this light is quenched, and our glowing- 
 hopes transformed to sad remembrauQes ! So suddenlv 
 is the voice of mourning wakened in the home where 
 so recently it had been stilled, as the son goes from 
 
116 
 
 mortal fellowsliip to rejoin the father, in the silent land. 
 His eulogy may not be woven from these simple, hurried 
 words of mine, but from these signals of the general woe. 
 It is the silent homage to his worth of which this concourse 
 is the devout expression — it is the unbounded confidence 
 and love of his companions in arms, and their pathetic 
 testimony to his merits as a man and soldier — it is the 
 memories cherished in the grateful hearts of those who 
 knew him best, of how tenderly he fulfilled the ofiices of 
 son and brother, and with what generous action he 
 responded ever to the calls of outward need and suffer- 
 ing. On this bright spring day when nature is ^speaking 
 only of renewal, we mourn him as among our early dead. 
 The battle was soon over with him — the contest and 
 assault — the pain and the privation — the weary marches 
 and vigils of the night ; and, with these sprinkled flowers 
 upon his breast, we bear him hence, from the cross to the 
 sepulchre, and suffer it to fold him in forever from our 
 mortal sight. Such as this are our sacrifices, beloved — 
 but they are our glories, too. Fidelity to our convictions 
 and living as we believe, at whatever cost of substance or 
 existence, are the only glories we are equal to ; and he has 
 but lowly views of the grand meanings of human life who 
 weighs comfort or fortune or peace for a moment in the 
 scale with honor and duty and the public weal. "What is 
 your flesh and blood or mine in comparison with loyalty 
 to principle ? What is your life or mine compared with 
 the integrity of a nation into which have been garnered 
 the hopes of humanity, and which alone among the nations 
 is the city of refuge from ancient tyranny ? But for more 
 than for national integrity are these young lives, so full of 
 glowing promises, laid down in sacrifice. If this were all, 
 then Denmark may give the same emphasis to the calls 
 upon her youth to-day as America to hers. But the Provi- 
 dence that has controlled our movements and shaped our 
 
117 
 
 policy by his superior intention, lias made our cause 
 identical with the cause of human freedom, and bound 
 indissolubly together the patriots' self-surrender and the 
 philanthropists' self-sacrifice. Our love of liberty — our 
 loyalty to those rights which belong to every man, as an 
 equal son and heir of the Infinite Father — is now appealed 
 to by every whirl of the con scrip tion-wheel and in every 
 exaction of the tax-list ; and until these liberties, so auda- 
 ciously imperiled, are established beyond every hazard 
 in the future and for evermore, we are enjoined by all the 
 sufierings of those who, in dungeons and on scafiblds, paid 
 the price of their devotion to the same cause — by the 
 memories of our heroic and sainted fathers — by all the 
 hopes we have derived from it for our children and child- 
 ren's children — to carry on this contest to a triumphant 
 issue. And the grandeur of such a struggle — a struggle 
 reaching backward to Sidney's scaffold, and beyond, to 
 where men felt the first faint inspirations of such a cause : 
 for which Hampden died — for which our fathers left their 
 bloody impress on the snows of Valley Forge, and endured 
 the privations which made our Revolutionary annals so 
 glorious and inspiring for our study ; the grandeur of such 
 a struggle invests these frequent deaths with a meaning 
 most sublime, and demands the enrolment of these humble 
 names in the grand, historical obituary of those who have 
 suffered- for the dear cause of liberty in the ages of the past. 
 In a coming day, when the clouds shall have been 
 lifted, and present ignorance and prejudice no longer shall 
 distort the popular vision, with what a lustre these names 
 will shine on the historic roll, and how closely will they be 
 pressed againt the nation's heart ! Already, what heraldry 
 on palatial walls is more glorious tlian the uniforms torn 
 by the bayonet and cut by the bullet, hung in all those 
 homes where the dead soldier comes no more? What 
 words more eloquent, or preserving a prouder fact, than 
 16 
 
118 
 
 those whicli are often recited above these swiftly-rising 
 mounds in all our cemeteries : " He fought and fell in this 
 war for the Union and for Freedom ? " Oh ! sleep, sleep, 
 ye martyrs, in your quiet graves ! Our spirits have been 
 reinforced by your sublime example ! By the fervor of 
 your love of fi-eedom you have kindled ours, and out of 
 your graves shall spring a better harvest than sickles 
 straightened into swords have ever cut for our humanity ! 
 We are not cast down by our defeats. We are not moved 
 away from this great contest by a despair as to its issue. 
 The sacred standard will not be lowered, but be kept 
 proudly aloft by those who are inspired by their hereditary 
 trust and devoted to the common cause. l!^athan Hale 
 dies ; but the cause was not thwarted. Warren dies : and 
 it seems as though the bullet that blasts his life shatters 
 the cause of the people ; but the cause does not slacken, 
 though he is borne helpless from the field. It marches 
 on — if to new defeats, yet to grander successes ; and, only 
 widened in its scope, lives here to-day, marshaling a 
 nation's armies in its interest, and pressing forward to a 
 triumphant issue. All the sacrifices in the past have only 
 prepared us for sacrifices richer and ampler in the future. 
 The hostile stroke recoils. The blood that has run red- 
 dening from these veins, apparently to stoj:) still and be 
 clotted as a pool on the earth, will run back somehow and 
 be reinfused into the people. As the tree dies, but in its 
 very decay nourishes the roots of the new forest; as the 
 silkworm dies, but his fine fiibric does not perish ; as the 
 wave wasting along the strand, in its recession completes 
 the fullness of the one succeeding ; as the damp sprinkling 
 at the mouth of the furnace kindles the fire it but super- 
 ficially quenches to a hotter glow ; so no vital current at 
 present flowing can be so mighty for our triumph as that 
 which has been spent and spilt like water in these red 
 furrows of our civil strife. 
 
119 
 
 From our very sacrifices, therefore — sacrifices offered 
 in these homes, of comforts and of treasure ; sacrifices in 
 the field, of our lovely and winning youth, our noble 
 manhood, our brave leadership — we prophecy success; 
 against our very war-sky we trace out our -\dsion of hope. 
 
 All the great landmarks of modern freedom — Magna 
 Charta, Eeformation Protests, Declaration of Eights, De- 
 claration of Independence — have been sealed with blood. 
 Philosophy and science have pined in dungeons and bled 
 under the axe before putting on their immortal robes and 
 ascending to thrones, Keligion, in all its humbler forms, 
 has " sweat great drops of blood, running down to the 
 ground," and in its highest expression is crimsoned and 
 warmed mth the blood of the Son of God. The law is 
 universal and inevitable that all things valuable are secured 
 and consecrated by blood alone — and so must we as a 
 nation buy our redemption from our past iniquities and 
 seize that richest possession — equal and impartial freedom 
 for the human brotherhood — by these fierce pangs and this 
 bloody sweat. And if the blood shed so generously by all 
 our brave ones, whilst cementing anew the walls of our 
 Republic shall wash away our national reproach ; if, when 
 we sing in grandest concert our thanksgiving hymn over 
 the return of peace, a captive people sings of Freedom as 
 one, already, of them has been prepared to sing by him we 
 mourn, will there not be a consolation flowing for us from 
 that glorious result ? 
 
 Before this coffin, then, my hearers, in the very valley of 
 this our sorrow, let us devote ourselves, with no outward 
 ritual, but in the deep recesses of our hearts, to this our 
 cause as it was his, the cause of " Freedom and the Union," 
 with the solemn resolve of a perfect consecration. Then, 
 as on the battle field, so here, the death of this brave 
 soldier shall minister strength unto our souls, a fresh ardor 
 and energy to all our exertions. May God direct His 
 
120 
 
 Providence to such an issue, and whilst inspiring us vouch- 
 safe to those who more deeply mourn the abundant conso- 
 lations of His grace. May they be felt to-day by the 
 mother who breathes her long and deep lament, by the 
 sisters who sob their tender anguish, by the brothers who 
 look with regretful memories on the "vacant chair," by 
 all who weep and mourn for the beauty of our Israel slain 
 upon the desolate places of battle. 
 
 \_From the City Press.'\ 
 
 Funeral of Col. Benedict. 
 
 The funeral of the late Col. Lewis Benedict took' place 
 yesterday afternoon and created a deep sensation through- 
 out the city, where the deceased, as boy and man, had been 
 so well known and so generally beloved. The flags of the 
 city were at half-mast during the day. At noon the bells 
 began tolling and citizens to throiig the streets, business 
 for the time being generally suspended. 
 
 At 1 p. M. the body, attended by the family and friends, 
 was conveyed from the residence of the deceased to the 
 2nd Presbyterian Church, where funeral services were per- 
 formed. The crowd was great. Every inch of space availa- 
 ble in the edifice was occupied, while hundreds were unable 
 to obtain admittance. The Governor and Staif, the Mayor 
 and City Authorities and many friends of the deceased from 
 diflierent parts of the State, were present and participated in 
 the solemn services of the hour. 
 
 The Prayer, full of tenderness and touching pathos, was 
 offered by the Rev. Dr. Sprague and was followed by an 
 earnest and eloquent Address by Rev. C. D. "W. Bridgman. 
 He paid a glowing tribute to the memory of the deceased, 
 
121 
 
 spoke of Ms gallantry as a soldier and tlie large and honored 
 place lie lield in the afiections of this community. His 
 allusion to his love for his mother, and the quotation from 
 a letter written to her a short time before his death, deeply 
 affected his hearers. Singing by the choir and a Benedic- 
 tion by Rev. Dr. Pohlman closed the exercises in the church. 
 
 The remains were then given in charge to the Military, 
 carried from the church, and placed upon a catafalque 
 drawn by four white horses. The coffin was covered with 
 the American flag and upon it laid the sword, cap, &c., of 
 the deceased, surrounded by a wreath of white flowers. 
 The funeral cortege was imposing. Minute guns were fired 
 during the movement of the procession, which passed down 
 State and through North Pearl streets, followed by a dense 
 array of citizens. At the north bounds of the city the 
 Bearers took carriages, and the Military and others the cars, 
 for the Cemetery, where, after a most impressive reading 
 of the sublime funeral service of -his church, by Rev. Dr. 
 Henry iSf. Pohlman, the body of the hero and patriot was 
 entombed, the Military paying the tribute prescribed for 
 such occasions. 
 
 The 25th Regiment, under command of Col. Church, 
 (whose arrangements were in excellent taste), was out with 
 full ranks, — a graceful testimonial of their admiration of 
 the worth and services of the deceased soldier. 
 
PROCEEDINGS 
 
 ALBANY BAR 
 
 On Saturday, tlie 7tli of May, 1864, the members of tlie 
 Albany Bar convened at tlie Capitol. 
 
 The Hon. Eufus "W". Peckham was appointed Chairman, 
 and Messrs. "Wolford and Edwards, Secretaries of the 
 meeting. 
 
 Messrs. Johnson, Gansevoort, Parker, Cooper and Coch- 
 rane, were appointed a committee on resolutions. The 
 committee, through their chairman, Mr. Johnson, reported 
 the following: 
 
 Resolved, That the members of tlie Bar of the city of Albany, 
 have heard with profound regret, of the death of Colonel Lewis 
 Benedict, whilst gallantly leading the Brigade he commanded to 
 battle and to victory. ^ 
 
 Resolved, That while we are called upon to mourn the loss of so 
 many of our professional brethren who have offered their lives as a 
 sacrifice in the desperate struggle in which we are engaged for the 
 preservation of our Constitution and our Liberties, and the perpe- 
 tuity of our Union, we have great reason to be proud of the honor 
 which their unselfish patriotism, their unwearied devotion, and their 
 gallant bearing, have conferred upon us. 
 
 Resolved, That while we duly honor, and will ever gratefully 
 cherish the memory of each and every one of our professional 
 brethren who have given their lives in their country's cause, and 
 for their country's defense, none presents a stronger or a higher 
 claim to our gratitude and respect than Colonel Leavis Benedict. 
 While each one has bravely and nobly performed the duty assigned 
 him, none has acquired a higher rank, or secured a higher reputa- 
 tion for military capacity and gallant bearing, than he whose deeds 
 we have met to honor, and whose memory we seek to perpetuate. 
 
 Resolved, That we deeply sympathize with the relatives and 
 friends of Colonel Benedict in their bereavement ; and while we 
 
123 
 
 ask to be permitted to mingle our regret, and our grief with theirs, 
 we trust that they may find, as we certainly do, consolation in the 
 reflection that he died as a brave and gallant soldier in the defense 
 of a just and holy cause. 
 
 Resolved, That the Secretaries of this meeting transmit a copy 
 of these Resolutions to the family of Colonel Benedict. 
 
 The Hon. Lyman Tremain, moved the adoption of the 
 resolutions, and spoke as follows : 
 
 Mr. Chairman : I do not rise to pronounce an elaborate 
 euloo-ium upon the life and character of our deceased friend 
 and professional brother. But, having been well acquainted 
 with Col. Benedict for many years, I should fail to do jus- 
 tice to my own heart, if I omitted to say a few words on 
 this melancholy occasion, in honor of his memory. 
 
 The Bar has always maintained an honorable position in 
 every great struggle for popular rights and human liberty. 
 The general tendency of their pursuits and studies is 
 towards a safe conservatism on the one hand, while on the 
 other, the spirit of resistance to oppression and wrong — 
 for which their occupation so well prepares their minds — 
 and their intelligent capacity to appreciate, at an early 
 period, the true nature of the pending contest, have com- 
 bined to place the members of our profession in a command- 
 ing and prominent position, wherever the old warfare 
 between aristocracy and democracy has broken into a flame. 
 
 In the English Eevolution — and in all those fierce con- 
 tests between the Commons and the Crown of England, 
 which have resulted, in the main, so auspiciously for the 
 cause of constitutional liberty, the lawyers of England 
 have furnished many briUiant and noble examples. Every 
 educated man will readily recall the names of great EngUsh 
 lawyers which have become historic by reason of their 
 identification with such struggles — names that have been 
 handed down to us by history and tradition — names which 
 grow brighter and purer as time rolls on — names which 
 have become memorable in the council, at the forum, on 
 the field, and even upon the scaflrold. 
 
124 
 
 In tlie war for American independence, tlie lawyers of 
 America reflected lustre upon their profession. Whenever 
 our thoughts are directed to that great contest, we recall, 
 instinctively, the names of John Adams, James Otis, 
 Patrick Henry, Thomas Jefterson and Alexander Ham- 
 ilton, lawyers, who exercised greater influence upon the 
 colonies, than any equal number of men, from any and 
 all other occupations, and whose services will be gratefully 
 remembered and cherished while American literature 
 endures. 
 
 The civil war in which we are now engaged furnishes 
 no exception to the general rule. The lawyers need not 
 be ashamed of their record. Albany need not blush for 
 her Bar. Our roll of honor is bright and glorious. To the 
 honored names of Jackson, Hill, Strong and Benedict, the 
 lawyers of Albany can point with melancholy pride. In 
 proportion to the number of our little band, no other 
 profession, occupation, or calling in our city, noble and 
 loyal as we admit them to be, can furnish a better or a 
 nobler list of patriot-martyrs. 
 
 Col. Lewis Benedict was not an ordinary man. He 
 was not induced to become an active participant in this 
 war by fanaticism, or bigotry, or personal malevolence to 
 any portion of his countrymen. On the contrary, he was 
 a gentlemen of fine culture, general attainments, a high 
 order of intelligence, and a man of the world. He had 
 college friends, personal and political associates, to whom 
 he was Avarmly attached, scattered all through the seced- 
 ing states. His mind was entirely free from personal 
 bitterness or a vindictive spirit, and his nature was wholly 
 kind, genial and generous. 
 
 He entered the field, however, from the noblest and 
 most patriotic motives. He appreciated, at the commence- 
 ment of hostilities, the true character of the contest. He 
 understood that it was to be a fierce and bloody war. He 
 
125 
 
 knew that it was an issue no less grand and important, 
 than to determine whether the Union and our free institu- 
 tions should be perpetuated and preserved, or whether 
 they should forever perish. 
 
 He believed the struggle was between despotism on one 
 side and a republican form of government on the other ; 
 between the masses, and the privileged few ; and he saw, 
 in the defeat of the Union, the destruction of the funda- 
 mental principles of a republic, and the ruins of the cause 
 of free labor and popular sovereignty. 
 
 He believed that the success of the rebellion would 
 throw back the cause of civilization, and place in peril all 
 that had hitherto been gained in the cause of freedom 
 and humanity. "With such views, he drew his sword, and 
 entered the service of his country. 
 
 Receiving a commission, he made himself master of his 
 official duties, and labored, with fidelity and success, to 
 promote the welfare, safety and comfort of the soldiers 
 who were placed under his command. The touching 
 letter to his mother, an extract from which was read at 
 his funeral, reveals his views on this point, in a light most 
 honorable to himself, and well worthy of adoption by all 
 other oflScers in the Army of the Union. 
 
 He was taken prisoner while bravely fighting the enemy, 
 and was confined for many months in the southern prisons. 
 After being exchanged he returned to his home in this city, 
 where he was met by crowds of his fellow citizens eager to 
 give him a public reception, which was declined by him on 
 account of his impaired health. 
 
 He remained here a few weeks, an invalid, and on 
 recovering his health, he was oflfered and accepted the 
 command of a new regiment which had recently been 
 raised in the city of ISTew York. His commission, as colo- 
 nel, was well earned by him, and was tendered to him in 
 recognition of his meritorious services in the field. 
 17 
 
126 
 
 He participated in the siege of Port Hudson. I heard 
 an officer who saw him on that occasion, speak in terms 
 of the warmest admiration of Benedict's bravery in 
 marching, pursuant to orders, at the head of his Brigade, 
 across the plain up to the enemy's battery, in full range 
 of his guns, and while men were falling all around him. 
 
 He had the satisfaction of seeing that proud fortress, 
 with its vast military stores and brave defenders yield to 
 our victorious arms. 
 
 In the recent disastrous battles in Louisiana, Col. 
 Benedict, on the third day of the fight, while victory was 
 perching upon our banner, fell with his face to the foe at 
 the head of his brigade, pierced by several bullets, showing 
 that he was at the post of danger, and in the performance 
 of his duty. 
 
 Col. Benedict seemed at Port Hudson to possess a 
 charmed life, but at last " the silver cord was loosed, and 
 the golden bowl was broken." The citizen soldier has 
 " fought his last battle." His remains have been brought 
 back to the city of his nativity and his affection. The 
 fnneral oration has been pronounced ; the honored coffin 
 has been placed in the tomb ; the solemn strains of martial 
 music have ceased ; the crowds of mourning citizens have 
 returned from the funeral ceremonies, and he, than whom 
 a braver officer never drew the sword, sleeps well in his 
 new made grave. 
 
 By the death of Lewis Benedict, our city has lost an 
 active and influential citizen, our profession a talented 
 and respected member, and our army and the country a 
 useful and valuable officer. 
 
 We sympathize deeply with the mourning relatives and 
 friends, and especially with the mother who has been 
 bereaved of her son. But, it is allotted to all men to die, 
 and what nobler death can there be than that of Lewis 
 Benedict ? 
 
127 
 
 He proved Ms sincerity by tlae highest tests, and sealed 
 with his life-blood, his devotion to his country. Prompted 
 by the noblest ambition, he left his father's house for the 
 field of danger and of death. Had he remained an inac- 
 tive spectator of the distant struggle, his years might, 
 perhaps, have been prolonged for an indefinite period, but 
 what comparison then and now in his closing career and 
 his final death? Wliat real friend of Benedict would 
 reverse, if he could, the decrees of an all- wise Providence, 
 or desire that he should exchange a few years of unevent- 
 ful sloth, for a death met in the discharge of duty, while 
 bravely defending his country against its enemies ? 
 
 Shall the sacrifices like that we this day lament, be made 
 in vain? "We are on the eve of mighty events. The 
 country is trembling with hopes and fears. Great armies 
 are menacing each other on the soil of Virginia. Rivers 
 of blood may yet flow, and thousands of noble lives be 
 sacrificed in the approaching collision, upon the altar of 
 our beloved country. Shall all these precious ofierings 
 prove unavailing? Forbid, it Heaven! 'No, it cannot, 
 must not, shall not be ! The cause of humanity must 
 not roll backward. An enlightened American civilization 
 shall not succumb to an effete and antiquated barbarism. 
 
 The closing struggle will be terrific, and the destruction 
 of property and life awful. But, in the language of an 
 orator of our revolution, " I see, or think I see, clearly 
 the end of this day's business." 
 
 In our vast resources, in the strength and intrinsic jus- 
 tice of our cause, Ave occupy a position of immense supe- 
 riority over our enemies. A rebellion, the elements 
 composing which consist of all human crimes, cannot 
 succeed in this age against the American people, with a 
 just God upon the throne. Sooner or later the authority 
 of this Union will, I doubt not, be restored. When peace 
 shall again return with unnumbered blessings, then will 
 
128 
 
 our people remember, witli lively gratitude, through all 
 coming time, tlie warriors by whose blood a permanent 
 peace was secured. Then will the names of Benedict 
 and those other brave heroes who may have fallen in this 
 war, be spoken with grateful affection, and their memories 
 be honored and cherished by a free and happy people. 
 
 Remarks of Hon. John K. Porter. 
 
 We all felt a sudden sinking of the heart, when, with 
 tidings of the victory of the southwestern army, on the 
 9th of April, came the startling rumor that Lewis Bene- 
 dict was dead. , We knew that if he had fallen, it had 
 been in the van of battle ; but he had so strong a hold 
 upon us all that we refused to credit the message of death. 
 We were not long in suspense. He had fallen, like Wolfe, 
 in the hour and on the field of victory. 
 
 We were connected with him by the ties of private 
 friendship and professional brotherhood ; and having united 
 with his companions in arms, with the pubhc authorities 
 and the citizens at large, in the sad office of committing 
 his bloodless remains to their resting place, we feel that we 
 do honor to ourselves, no less than to him, by convening 
 at the Capitol to pay a special tribute of respect to his 
 memory. 
 
 'No man whom Albany has produced has fulfilled more 
 nobly, in the close of his career, the brilliant promise of 
 youth and early manhood. In his case, as in many others, 
 the civil war, which now convulses the country, has given 
 occasion for the complete development of powers, rarely 
 called into full exercise in periods of peace. 
 
 Few entered active life under more propitious circum- 
 stances. Distinguished by rare talents and attainments 
 during his collegiate course, he had the advantage of pur- 
 
129 
 
 suing Ms subsequent professional studies under the guid- 
 ance of Jolin C. Spencer, and, on his admission to the bar, 
 became the partner of Marcus T, Reynolds, who fully ap- 
 preciated his manly character and marked forensic ability. 
 
 Independent in his circumstances, wdth a keen zest for 
 social intercourse, with habits of literary culture — which 
 soon gave place, in a great measure, to the more absorbing 
 interest that beguiles so many from the bar to the arena of 
 political strife — he was known as a clear-headed and able 
 lawyer, capable of taking any rank in the profession to 
 which he might aspire, but too little emulous of the forensic 
 honors which lay within his reach. He needed more than 
 the stimulus of mere personal ambition. He did not care 
 to meet the ceaseless exactions of the law — to sow while 
 others sleep, and reap the fruits of that intellectual toil 
 which knows neither relaxation nor repose. With a healthy, 
 vigorous and well-stored mind, he found it easy to discharge, 
 with skill and fidelity, the duties he owed to his clients, 
 and was content with a manly and honorable but unambi- 
 tious professional career. Ko better evidence could be fur- 
 nished of his thorough legal training and rare judicial 
 ability, than the fact that while he was surrogate of the 
 county of Albany, no decree pronounced by him was re- 
 versed in any appellate tribunal. 
 
 His generous impulses and strong convictions naturally 
 made him an active and ardent participant in public affairs ; 
 and it was a marked characteristic of the man, that, thouo-h 
 as a political leader, he won commanding influence and 
 merited distinction, he took more pleasure in advancing 
 the fortunes of others, than in putting himself in the line 
 of preferment. He accepted public honors, but only when 
 they came unsought. 
 
 At the outbreak of the rebellion, he held a prominent 
 position in the Legislature, and by his counsels, his speeches 
 and his votes, he rendered effective aid in perfecting the 
 
130 
 
 measures devised by that patriotic body to rouse the people 
 and arm tlie state. But when the session closed, and our 
 flag needed armed defense, no one who knew him doubted 
 that he would be among the foremost of its defenders. 
 
 The manly and generous tributes to his memory by life- 
 long political opponents, are alike honorable to them and 
 just to him. He was true to the principles he professed, 
 inwrought as they were witli his deepest convictions. He 
 felt that in a war waged by Southern caste against ISTorth- 
 ern democracy — in an armed rebellion of slavery against 
 law and liberty — his proper field of service was the battle- 
 field. He could not be unconscious of his high qualifications 
 for command, but in the spirit of true patriotism, which 
 exacts no conditions, he tendered his services in that 
 position, be it what it might, for which there should be no 
 more fitting applicant. 
 
 He was on the eve of marriage, but at the call of his 
 country he postponed all that was personal to himself until 
 the event should prove whether he was to sleep in a soldier's 
 grave. 
 
 Calmly and unostentatiously he announced his purpose, 
 and made his arrangements, not for three months or three 
 years, but for the war. The ties of filial and fraternal love 
 bound few men with equal strength; but all Avho knew 
 his father will readily believe that on an issue involving 
 the honor of the country and the maintenance of the govern- 
 ment, he could not hesitate to dedicate to the cause either 
 his own blood or that of the cherished son who bore his 
 name. 
 
 "We have since followed that father to the grave, at the 
 age of nearly four score years. The noble impress of his 
 character was developed by subsequent events in the son, 
 then captive in a rebel prison. I have known no man 
 more worthy to be held in honored remembrance than 
 Lewis Benedict, the elder. In the grandeur of his person. 
 
131 
 
 no less than in the earnestness of his purposes, he realized 
 my conception of the iron-willed barons who extorted 
 from the Crown the great charter of English liberty. His 
 very presence gave assurance of the balanced elements of 
 perfect manhood. The masculine vigor of his understand- 
 ing, his broad and enlightened views, his clear perception 
 of the right, his rugged and inflexible sense of justice, com- 
 manded our respect and admiration. Yet this lion-hearted 
 old man, open, frank and downright in speech, had a warm, 
 generous and loving nature, which yielded to friendship 
 and affection with almost womanly gentleness and sensi- 
 bility. He was loyal, faithful and true — incapable of 
 falsehood — incapable of fear. He was in many respects 
 a much greater man than others whom, with confiding and 
 unselfish devotion, he aided in building up to greatness. 
 
 The son entered the service in a spirit worthy of the 
 father. Too many were looking to the war as an opportu- 
 nity to achieve private fortune or personal advancement. 
 The path of these led toward Washington ; his led toward 
 the field of battle. He received an early appointment as 
 Lieutenan1>Colonel in the Excelsior Brigade; and, aided in 
 no small degree by his executive abihty and energy, Gen. 
 Sickles was soon in the field at the head of a body of men 
 who will receive in history a generous share of the honors 
 due to the Army of the Potomac. 
 
 No oflScer in the army, of equal rank, proved more 
 effective in command than Col. Benedict. 'None rose 
 more rapidly in the confidence of his superior officers, 
 and, though a rigid disciplinarian, he won the personal 
 affection and devotion of every man in his regiment. 
 
 In the memorable battle of Williamsburg he refused to 
 be kept from the field, though crippled by a recent injury. 
 He held his brave troops close up to the line of duty and 
 of death, when others fell back in dismay ; and when at 
 last cut off, by a sudden movement of the enemy, from 
 
132 
 
 the fnain body of his men, he refused to surrender his 
 sword, and was forcibly disarmed by command of a rebel 
 oflB.cer, who was too much won by his gallantry to permit 
 a wounded foe to be cut down in unequal combat. 
 
 Relieved fi-om captivity by exchange in August, 1862, 
 he returned to Albany to recruit his wasted strength, and 
 to visit his mother's home and his father's grave. In three 
 weeks, while still convalescent and barely able to walk, he 
 was commissioned as Colonel of the 162d regiment, and 
 soon after sailed mth his troops for the Gulf, 
 
 In January he was assigned to the command of a brigade. 
 His services in that capacity for the remaining fifteen months 
 of his life were such as won the admiration of all who wit- 
 nessed them, and the regard of all who served under him. 
 "We have among us the returned veterans who have made 
 his name familiar in the households of the rank and file, 
 as the soldier's friend, and the bravest of the brave. "We 
 have the public record of his distinguished services and his 
 dauntless bearing in the memorable siege of Port Hudson. 
 We heard with increased joy of the surrender of that fort- 
 ress, because it superseded the intended assault by the 
 " Thousand Stormers," in which he was to lead a forlorn 
 hope — scarcely more "forlorn," however, than one 
 he had already led against the same fortifications on the 
 14th of June — a day which clothed our city in mourning. 
 
 As we follow him from scene to scene in that dark drama 
 of war, we find him everywhere charged by the general in 
 command with trusts of the highest responsibility, and, in 
 the disharge of each duty, developing resources and ability 
 which demand the grateful recognition of the country. 
 Recommended by General Banks for promotion to the 
 rank, of which he performed the duties and assumed the 
 perils, he was passed by at Washington, to witness, in some 
 cases at least, the preferment of those who were seek- 
 ing the honors, which he was content to earn, l^o such 
 
133 
 
 omission will occur in the historic roll, to be made up here- 
 after, of the heroic leaders who have baptized with their 
 blood the fields on which our national honor was redeemed. 
 
 Col. Benedict had eminent qualifications for command. 
 To a mind of admirable clearness and perspicuity he added 
 the self-reliance imparted by conscious strength and the 
 steady energy of a calm and resolute will. He had the rare 
 power of organization, with the still rarer faculty of inspir- 
 ing the confidence and winning the hearts of masses of 
 men. He had the buoyant and elastic strength which 
 always rises with the emergency, equal to the demands of 
 the hour. Beside all this, he held every faculty under com- 
 plete control — a qualification which, in the case of one of 
 his favorite marshals, N"apoleon likened to the complete 
 command of his steed by a trained and fearless rider. 
 
 Wlien, at the historic battle of Pleasant Hill, the for- 
 tunes of the day rested for the time on the bearing of this 
 chosen brigade of the 19th Army Corps, every man in his 
 command knew that, whoever else might fail, Lewis Bene- 
 dict would not fail — and that in the bloodiest crisis of 
 battle, his pulse would be even, his voice firm, his vision 
 clear, his judgment poised, and his heart true. It was 
 only such a man in command of our left wing, who could 
 have held that devoted band, a living breastwork, from 
 which the advancing column of the rebel army more than 
 once recoiled — and who in the end, could move those 
 ranks, unbroken save by death, to the final charge which 
 bore our banner to victory. In that charge he fell, leav- 
 ing a record which imparts lustre to his name, and confers 
 honor on the city of his birth. 
 
 18 
 
134 
 
 Eemaeks of Hon. Clark B. Cochrane. 
 
 While I cannot, in justice to my o^ti feelings, or to the 
 promptings of this occasion, which are well nigh irrepres- 
 sible, remain entirely silent, I shall attempt little else than 
 present my sincere offering of personal respect and grati- 
 tude to the memory of Lewis Benedict. Certainly, I am 
 quite unable to add anything to what has been so well and 
 so eloquently said, touching the distinguished life and 
 services of our departed friend. He was a member of this 
 bar, and we meet, as is becoming, to give public expression 
 to the sorrow we feel at the loss of a cherished professional 
 brother. He was our fellow-townsman, and in the honor 
 which his recent marked and brilliant career has reflected 
 upon his native city, we may properly claim, in some sense, 
 to share; for those generous and manly qualities which he 
 exhibited, as our companion and acquaintance ; for those 
 resolute and inherent traits of character which made the de- 
 ceased a representative of the higher type of our American 
 manhood ; for that heroic love of country, which constrained 
 him to break from every other tie and postpone every other 
 affection, and peril life itself in her defense ; for the skill 
 and courage in the field which had secured the confidence 
 of ofiicers and men, and for that undaunted intrepidity, 
 singularly displayed amid the appalling scenes which were 
 his last, we may express our admiration and here record 
 our profound and grateful remembrance. Beyond this, 
 there is nothing for us to do. ]^o language of panegyric 
 which we can employ, can add anything to the fame of Col. 
 Benedict. This is already secure. The achievement is his 
 alone. He was the architect of his own fame. He rose to 
 position and eminence l)y the vigor and strength of his own 
 character. His life-work, in the new theater of action for 
 which he left us, rising rapidly into public view, to-day 
 stands out clear and distinctive in its noble proportions, 
 
135 
 
 and tliough we may commemorate the finislied structure, 
 the voice of praise can add nothing to its essential grandeur. 
 
 Gifted by nature mth those rare endowments which quali- 
 fy men for great and perilous employments, imbued with that 
 spirit of devotion which the love of country can alone inspire, 
 he entered the field of patriotic duty, and though arrested 
 in middle life and in mid career, he had lifted, by force of 
 his own right hand, his name and reputation to position, 
 and placed them upon an eminence above the anxieties of 
 friendship, and beyond the reach of detraction. A hero by 
 inheritance, born mth elements for command, trained to 
 habits of self-reliance and schooled in the knowledo-e of men, 
 he found in the stern occupations of war, to which his im- 
 periled country called him as a leader, a theater fitted to 
 the development of his powers. Cool amidst every danger, 
 skillful in the disposition of his forces, attentive to the wants 
 and careful for the safety of his men, lion-hearted on the 
 day of battle, distinguished in every conflict, tried in both 
 extremes of military fortune and equal to either, and at last 
 when his hour came, met death like a true soldier in the 
 face of the enemy, leading his brave columns to victory. 
 This is the simple record of Col. Benedict. What can any 
 of us do — what can we all do better, than " leave him alone 
 inhis glory ? " Ambition cannot covet a nobler death, or 
 patriotism own a holier sacrifice. His countrymen, not 
 simply his class, recognize his services and deplore his loss. 
 
 Before his body had reached our city, before the flag, 
 for which he died, had been lowered in token of the sacri- 
 fice, before even the bereaved mother had heard the fate 
 of her son, in the cliances of the battle, his name had 
 been enshrined in the nation's heart. There it will remain 
 forever. The tears shed by kindred upon his bier had 
 been anticipated by the tears of his companions in arms, 
 shed when the stern conflict was over. Ere the " little 
 earth," now set apart by private afiection as the final rest- 
 
136 
 
 ing place of his aslies, had been disturbed, loyal milliona 
 had consecrated the spot where the patriot soldier fell. 
 
 Such is the homage and such the award which a grateful 
 country can never fail to pay to the memory of those who 
 suffer and bleed on her behalf. The name and deeds of 
 our fallen brother, identified with his country in her heroic 
 struggle for life and cherished traditions, and hereafter to 
 become historic, shall endure in honored remembrance, so 
 long as patriotism and valor shall continue to be classed 
 among the virtues of mankind. 
 
 This sad event presses upon us with peculiar emphasis. 
 "We are again most forcibly reminded how many and how 
 great are the sacrifices made and being made to uphold 
 the integrity of the government, and defend the institu- 
 tions and liberties of our fathers. That of our late friend 
 is but one of the thousands of valued and cherished lives 
 which have been freely offered to the holy cause of the 
 Union — to maintain the honor and empire of that flag 
 which, amid all the vicissitudes that have attended the 
 growth and fortunes of this people, by night and by day, 
 at home and abroad, on the land and on the sea, has been 
 the protector, equally of those who defend and those who 
 now Avith wicked hands assail it. So, also, in the light 
 reflected from those fearful and bitter experiences, the 
 guilt and infamy of the rebellion are seen in deeper and 
 blacker shadows. The faithful pen of history, a part of 
 whose mission it will be to record the names of the heroic 
 dead, whose blood, on the 9th of April, mingled with the 
 soil of Louisiana, shall hand down this bloody conspiracy, 
 by whose hand our brother perished, to the common and 
 irreversible execration of mankind. 
 
 Let our enemies and the enemies of free government, 
 at home and abroad, read in the unprecedented expendi- 
 ture of blood and treasure in defense of threatened nation- 
 ality, in the deeds of our brave and the endurance of our 
 
137 
 
 people, the deep and earnest significance of our watchword 
 and inspiration, " one country, one flag, one destiny." 
 
 Remarks of Hale Kingsley, Esq. 
 
 3Ir. Chairman : A sense of duty bids me add my hum- 
 ble tribute of respect to the memory of the member of our 
 profession, whose death has occasioned this meeting of the 
 Albany Bar. I render this tribute in the sincerity of a sad 
 and sorrowing heart. 
 
 For a brief period associated with him in business, and 
 for many years proud to claim him as an intimate personal 
 fi'iend, I think I may say that outside of his own circle of 
 relatives, none loved him more or knew him better than 
 myself. 
 
 Others of our brethren have gone down to the grave, 
 crowned with more professional honors; others have 
 departed to the world beyond, who have achieved more 
 distinction and reaped more emoluments from the contests 
 of legal strife ; but none have gone hence, never to return 
 more, with a stronger claim upon our affections, our esteem 
 and respect, or left a more honored memory to be cherished 
 and preserved, than Lewis Benedict. 
 
 Possessed of a vigorous, strong intellect, highly nurtured 
 and cultivated by a liberal education, his early years 
 of practice in our profession gave promise of a life of 
 distiuo-uished usefulness at the bar. An almost intuitive 
 knowledge of, and insight into, human nature, a rare 
 faculty of reading the motives by which men were go- 
 verned, combined with strong common sense and far-seeing 
 judgment, peculiarly fitted him for becoming a brilliant 
 ornament to the profession. 
 
 But an incident, of which only a few of his intimate 
 
138 
 
 personal friends knew, made liim careless of winning pro- 
 fessional distinction and renown, and he loved not the 
 profession for the pecuniary emoluments which it might 
 have afforded him. 
 
 He therefore sought, in the contests of political life, if 
 not its honors, the right and privilege of advocating and 
 advancing those principles, the success of which would 
 most surely tend to the promotion of his country's welfare 
 and prosperity. The large vote cast for him, in excess of 
 his party, when elected to the office of surrogate of this 
 county, testifies how, thus early in his political career, he 
 had won the popular heart by those manly qualities, which 
 have since grown brighter and brighter as they have been 
 tried in the fire. 
 
 The present unhappy war found him enjoying the 
 generous confidence of the people of his native city, with 
 ample means to make life pleasant and to be longed for, 
 surrounded by a charming family circle of beloved and 
 loving relatives, and possessed of a gentlemanly courtesy 
 and breeding that were a passport to the best society of 
 the land. 
 
 But full of love for the institutions of the land of his 
 birth, actuated by the purest j^atriotism, and moved by a 
 controlling sense of duty, he sacrificed all, as the sequel 
 proved, to die for his country. 
 
 I need not speak of his military career, for his abilities, 
 his patient endurance of suffering and hardship, his de- 
 voted patriotism, chivalrous courage, gallant daring and 
 noble heroism, are household words in the city of his 
 birth. 
 
 Oh ! how I dreaded, when I first heard of the fatal 
 battle in which he fell, that disaster would he his. I knew 
 him so well. I had occasion to know, before the fire of 
 battle proved it, how brave a heart he carried in his 
 bosom. I knew that where duty called, or honors were 
 
139 
 
 to h6 won in tlie service of his country, lie would be no 
 laggard. He fell, as I believed lie would fall, if fall be 
 must, with " bis back to tbe field and bis feet to tbe foe." 
 
 Witb a lieart as kind, as gentle and loving as a woman's, 
 ever open and responsive to every appeal for cbarity and 
 sympathy, witb a sense of lionor as fine as ever found 
 lodgment in a buman bosom, be bad a courage as cool, 
 a spirit as chivalrous, a soul as brave as ever dwelt in 
 mortal tenement. 
 
 Is it a wonder that such a man died for his country ? 
 
 Blessed be his last sleep ! Forever cherished, among 
 - us and tbe people with whom be lived, and in whose cause 
 he died, be bis memory ! 
 
 The sad events of this war have taken fi^om among the 
 members of our profession many of tbe gifted, brave and 
 devoted, whom we were wont to meet in fraternal relations. 
 It may be that other sacrifices are called for, and that 
 others still may find time to die for their country and tbe 
 right. If this be so, be who is called will be fortunate 
 indeed if be is only partially successful in emulating the 
 virtues, the patriotism, the heroism, the courage and 
 devotion of the lawyer whose memory we seek to per- 
 petuate to-day — the soldier over whose bier has been fired 
 tbe last volley — but whose name and fame will be ever 
 warmly cherished by a grateful community. 
 
 Eemarks of Isaac Edwards, Esq. 
 
 Mr. Chairman : We speak of tbe living witb fearless 
 criticism, in spi^e of tbe social temptation we are under 
 to strengthen friendship, and conciliate opinion. But 
 when we meet, as on this occasion, to commemorate tbe 
 life and services of one who has but just entered into 
 
140 
 
 the city of the dead, our natural reverence suhdiies the 
 haste of speech, that seems not inappropriate on ordi- 
 nary occasions. 
 
 We all knew Col. Lewis Benedict, most of us for 
 many years, and have ourselves witnessed his hearing in 
 the profession, in business, political and social life. Every 
 one, friend and foe, knew him as a fi^ank, generous and 
 bi^ave man — one who combined in himself the elements 
 of strength that attract attention and secure respect. 
 Some of us in former years, doubtless, opposed him in 
 political principle or action, and found in him a manly 
 opponent, tenacious of opinion, and resolute and deter- 
 mined in the maintenance of those views of public policy 
 which commended themselves to his judgment. We saw 
 that he did not vacillate between conflicting opinions, 
 and showed no misgivings of the popular favor. We saw 
 that his character, like that of his father, was solid and firm, 
 strong enough, to stand steadfast, as the mast of a gallant 
 ship on a storm-beaten sea. 
 
 Fairly to appreciate him, we have to bear in mind 
 the outline of his life, the opinions he formed in early man- 
 hood, the changes since wrought in the public mind, the 
 convictions which he entertained in common with those 
 who succeeded in the general election of 1860, and the 
 civil war which ensued and still desolates the land. So 
 directly allied as we are to the past and intensely interested 
 in the present, it is impossible for us here and now to think 
 or speak with the candor and breadth of view that may be 
 looked for in the coming years of rest and peace, which, I 
 trust, lie not far beyond us in the future. This much, how- 
 ever, we know, from the magnitude of the struggle and the 
 nature of the principles involved in it, whatever may be 
 the precise issue of the present war, the influence of it will 
 flow on through the history of the continent for a thou- 
 sand years. 
 
141 
 
 I will not now speak of tlie marks of confidence, the pub- 
 lic offices of dignity and trnst that were conferred upon the 
 deceased — tokens of the estimation in which he was held 
 in this community. JSTor will I now dwell upon his en- 
 lightened and liberal sentiments, his genial manners, 
 noble candor, and veracious spirit, qualities that sprang 
 naturally from his large heart and vigorous brain. 
 
 Long before the war began, he was at the head of a mili- 
 tary company, and everybody saw that he possessed quali- 
 ties and habits that fitted him for command. Every man in 
 the company claimed him as a friend, and was proud of 
 him. 
 
 Wlien the war broke upon us, the undaunted spirit of 
 Col. Benedict rose to meet the occasion. He saw and 
 felt that the Rebellion was set on foot to reverse and 
 annul with the sword the solemn verdict of the American 
 people, to uproot the foundations of the Government and 
 destroy, utterly, the fair fabric of our institutions. He 
 saw that it was to be a war of arms resting upon a war of 
 opinion, a contest between proud and brave soldiers on 
 either side ; and he volunteered to bear his part in the 
 struggle. He felt, as we all did, that the success of the 
 Eebellion would dissolve the Union as with the touch of 
 Ithuriel's spear, put an end to the peace and tranquility 
 of our home-life so long enjoyed under the joint protec- 
 tion of a great people, and cashier the Republic from her 
 high rank among the nations. We know that these 
 thoughts, great and ennobling inspirations of duty, 
 occupied his mind as he went forth to the service, and 
 that he gave his life for his country. There are certainly 
 other scenes of faithful service, and other trials of the 
 courage and constancy of the citizen; but there is in 
 these days no surer test of the human spirit than that 
 which Lewis Bexedict endured again, and again, on the 
 field of battle ; and it does not diminish our admiration 
 19 
 
142 
 
 for him to know that liundreds and thousands of our 
 young men have passed through the same ordeal, as 
 gold tried by tire. "We read short and imperfect details 
 of the skirmish and the battle, at a distance from the 
 scene of conflict ; but we do not see the soldier marching 
 into action, knowing that he may at any moment ex- 
 change the present for another life, advancing steadily 
 upon the dread realities of life and death, upon whatever 
 is most appalling, in the devilish enginery of modern 
 war ; and we can but slightly appreciate the stern trial of 
 such an hour. Let us then honor these men, and count 
 the heroism of him that fell at the head of his brigade as 
 one of the titles to honor, which attach to the city of his 
 birth and home. 
 
 Remarks of Hon. C. L. Austin. 
 
 3Ir. Chairman : Esteeming myself among the humblest 
 among the distinguished men whom I see around me, I 
 would feel myself incapable of adding anything worthy of 
 the occasion to the encomiums already passed upon the 
 name and services of our deceased brother. 
 
 It seems to me, however, that there is a peculiar fitness 
 in my adding, at least, the expression of my heartfelt con- 
 currence in all that has been said of him. Four years 
 ago we were competitors for the ofiice which I have just 
 vacated. In that competition it did not happen to him to 
 be successful. It was for an office entirely and peculiarly 
 belonging to our profession as members of the bar. 
 
 And as it would be folly for me to attempt to gild the 
 refined gold of eulogy which has just been bestowed upon 
 his character in the profession in which he has fallen a 
 
143 
 
 martyr, it gives me the greater pleasure to speak of him 
 in his character of judge and magistrate, which he held for 
 several years among us. 
 
 In that office he was as bold and brave as he was in the 
 field. "With a strong instinct of justice to guide him, he 
 was ever fearless in deciding the questions before him 
 according to his sense of right. 
 
 I have seen the humble and undistinguished members 
 of our profession contending before him with the strongest 
 and the most honored, and in such contests no one had to 
 fear that human respect, or the weight of professional 
 reputation would turn the scales against a just cause, 
 when held in the hands of Lewis Benedict as surrogate of 
 the county of Albany. I do not approve the taste, sir, on 
 occasions of this character of alluding to faults or to 
 blemishes. Being mortals, we are none of us free from 
 them. And I would not now mention the word, except 
 for the purpose of saying that in him, such as he had, 
 partook of the quality of virtue, -because they were all 
 swallowed up in his distinguishing characteristic of open- 
 ness, manliness and courage. 
 
 That such a character entering into the military service 
 of his country should have illustrated itself by bold and 
 heroic action, by self-sacrifice, even unto death, was only 
 to have been expected ; and as I followed his body to its 
 last resting place, on the last day of the term of that office 
 for which, a few years before, we had contended against 
 each other, I could not but reflect that the result of 
 that rivalry, though, for the moment, an apparent reverse 
 for him, had, like all reverses of which men of courage 
 and conduct know how to make account, brought in the 
 end a triumph for his name and memory in the respect 
 and honor of the country. 
 
 The resolutions were then unanimously adopted, and 
 the meeting adjourned. 
 
144 
 
 Albany, May 10th, 1864. 
 Mrs. Lewis Benedict. 
 
 Dear 31adam : 
 The Bar of the city, convened at the Capitol on the 7th 
 instant, directed us, the Secretaries of the meeting, to 
 present you with a copy of the enclosed Resolutions, ex- 
 pressing their high regard for your gifted, heroic and 
 lamented son. In discharging this duty, permit us to add 
 our sense of the public loss, and our profound personal 
 sorrow to the burden of bereavement which must be so 
 keenly felt in the home of Col. Benedict. 
 With great respect, we are. 
 
 Yours Truly, 
 
 George Wolford, 
 Isaac Edwards. 
 
 SCHOHARIE COUNTY. 
 
 The Late Colonel Benedict. 
 
 At a meeting of the Bar and citizens of Schoharie 
 county, assembled at Cobleskill, on hearing of the death 
 of the lamented Col. Lewis Benedict, of Albany, Charles 
 Holmes, Esq., was chosen Chairman, and IST. Degraff, 
 Esq., Secretary. 
 
 On motion, W. H. Young, G. W. Smith, D. W. Darrow, 
 L. Cross, and A. Loucks, were appointed a Committee to 
 report resolutions expressing the sense of this meeting. 
 
 H. Smith, Esq., of Albany, in appropriate remarks, 
 recounted the social qualities, the legal acquirements, the 
 
146 
 
 enviable positions, the personal sacrifices, patriotic devotion, 
 and excellent traits of character of the deceased. 
 
 W. H. Young, from the committee, reported the fol- 
 lowing resolutions, which were unanimously adopted : 
 
 Resolved, That we have learned with sincere and profound regret 
 of the death of Col. Lewis Benedict — late of the city of Albany — 
 while at the head of his Brigade, bravely and gallantly leading his 
 men forth to " battle for the cause of his country." 
 
 Resolved, That his cheerful sacrifice of the ease and luxuries of 
 home, the society and associations of numerous personal and social 
 friends, for the hardships and dangers of a soldier's life, bespeak for 
 him an enviable position in the list of heroes. That his loss is a 
 source of deep regret to his friends, his regiment, and country. 
 
 Resolved, That the proceedings of this meeting be published in 
 our county papers. Atlas and Argus, and Albany Evening Journal. 
 
 Charles Holmes, Chairman. 
 
 N. Degrafe, Secretary. 
 
 REGIMENTAL TRIBUTE. 
 
 At a meeting of the Officers of the 162d Regiment, N". 
 Y. V. I., held, June 4, 1864, in camp, at Morganzia Bend, 
 La., Resolutions were passed expressive of their high regard 
 and respect for the character and memory of their deceased 
 Colonel, Lewis Benedict, and tendering their condolence 
 to his bereaved family. 
 
 The following officers were appointed a Committee, and 
 instructed to communicate the Resolutions to the family 
 and to cause them to be published in the Albany and Kew 
 York papers. 
 
 Samuel Cowdrey, Capt. Co. I, 162d iN". Y. V. I. 
 
 J. W. Seaman, Capt. Co. D, " " 
 
 John H. Van Wyck, 1st Lieut. Co. G, " " 
 
146 
 
 WILLIAMS COLLEGE. 
 
 Of tlie Annual ]\f eeting of the Alumni in August, 1864, 
 the Williams College Miscellany says : " The Alumni met 
 on Tuesday morning, Hon. Thomas Colt in the chair. 
 The obituary notices were read, by the Secretary, and 
 among the names who received the highest eulogies we 
 notice those of Professor Emmons, of the class of 1818 ; 
 Col. Benedict, of the class of 1837: Hon. John A. 
 Walker, of the class of 1840 ; and Hon. Luther Bradish, 
 of the class of 1804." President Andrews, of Marietta 
 College, Ohio, Hon. Erastus C. Benedict, of ]^ew York, 
 and Hon. James D. Colt, of Pittsfield, paid eloquent and 
 touching tributes to the character of Col. Benedict and 
 sketched his career during the war. Two of the speakers, 
 drawing upon their memories, reproduced scenes and inci- 
 dents of the days when he was an inmate of the college, 
 that were intensely interesting. 
 
 On this occasion steps were taken toward the erection 
 of a Monument to perpetuate the memory of the sons 
 of Williams who had fallen in the war. 
 
 At the Annual Meeting of August, 1865, the Alumni 
 held dedicatory services around the Monument, which was 
 far advanced toward completion. Prayer was offered by 
 President Hopkins and speeches were made by Hon. James 
 D. Colt, of Pittsfield, Hon. Joseph White, of Williamstown, 
 Judge Abm. B. Olin, of Washington, D. C. and Hon. 
 Emory Washburn, of Worcester. 
 
 The Monument is of red sandstone and reflects the 
 highest credit upon the taste and skill of the architect. It 
 will be completed by placing upon it a bronze statue of a 
 soldier. 
 
147 
 
 ACTION BY THE PRESIDENT AND SENATE. 
 
 The President, on tlie recommendation of tlie Secretary 
 at War, nominated, for Brevet Brigadier General, U. S. 
 Volunteers : 
 
 " Colonel Lewis Benedict of tlie One Hundred and 
 Sixty Second New York Volunteers, for gallant conduct at 
 Port Hudson, Louisiana, to date from March 13, 1865." 
 
 This nomination was confirmed by the Senate, July 23, 
 1866. 
 
COREESPONDENCE. 
 
 Washington, Oct. 14, 1864. 
 My Dear Colonel : 
 
 I knew Colonel Benedict well and was near Ms Bri- 
 gade wlien lie fell. He died bravely and nobly, in a battle 
 whicb was terrific in its progress, and where onr success 
 saved the army, the fleet, and gave ns the continued posses- 
 sion of the Mississippi and JSTew Orleans. Had we failed 
 at Pleasant Hill, we could not have maintained our power 
 with the loss of the army, and the fleet of gun-boats. 
 
 Colonel Benedict did not die in vain ; and the close of 
 his career was as glorious as its progress had been upright 
 and honorable. 
 
 We were, at once, upon making acquaintance with each 
 other, on a confidential footing and I was often surprised 
 and delighted Mdth the general intelligence and knowledge 
 of men which he always exhibited. I read, at the time of his 
 death, the discourses pronounced at his funeral and by the 
 Bar of which he was a member. They did no more than 
 justice to the many virtues which distinguished him. 
 
 Yery truly yours. 
 
 To CoL. K K Lu. Dudley. K P. Banks, M. G. C. 
 
 Portland, Me., July 25, 1864. 
 3Ty Dear Sir : 
 
 * * * I was quite intimate with your brother, 
 Colonel Lewis Benedict, of the 162d 'N. Y. Regiment. He . 
 was under my command from August, 1863, until the time 
 
149 
 
 of Ms deatli. I, like every one else who knew him, was 
 exceedingly attracted by his social qualities, and I enjoyed 
 his society extremely. I saw a great deal of him, during 
 the winter of 1863-64, while I commanded at Franklin, 
 La. At this time he commanded a Bris-ade in Bris:. Gen. 
 Emory's Division of the 19th Corps. 
 
 He retained command of this Brigade on the march 
 from Franklin to Alexandria and Natchitoches, and com- 
 manded it in the battle of Sabine Cross Roads, April 8, 
 1864, and of Pleasant Hill, April 9, 1864. In the last 
 named battle he was killed. 
 
 I know little of his conduct in the battle of the 8th of 
 April. I do know, however, that his Brigade, which held 
 the left of the line, was severely attacked by the enemy ; 
 that it behaved exceedingly well, entirely repulsing the 
 attack, and that it held the ground until nightfall, when 
 the battle ended. My position on that day prevented me 
 from knowing any more than what I have told above. 
 
 On the 9th of April, at Pleasant Hill, his Brigade formed 
 the left of Gen. Emory's line. He came to my Head- 
 quarters about 12 o'clock, M., to obtain permission from 
 Gen. Emory and myself, to change the position of his line, 
 indicating another, which, in his opinion, was stronger and 
 safer. We agreed to the change, and he then left, and the 
 change was made. In this new position his Brigade was 
 attacked by the enemy, and after a gallant fight was driven 
 back. It was, however, rallied very soon, returned to the 
 fight, drove the enemy in turn, and did a great deal towards 
 saving the day. 
 
 It is my impression that your brother was killed while 
 his Brigade was advancing after he had succeeded in rally- 
 ing it ; but I am not certain of this, nor is it material now, 
 Wliat is certain, is, that he handled his Brigade well ; that 
 he fought it as well as it was possible to fight it, and that 
 he died performing his duty like a noble soldier. 
 20 
 
150 
 
 There was one universal expression of sorrow among all 
 his comrades when it became certain that he was killed. 
 He had endeared himself to all of them. 
 
 I am sorry that I am able to give you no more reminis- 
 cences of him. I have told you all that I now recollect, 
 but events crowded on so fast just at the time your brother 
 was killed, that I have doubtless forgotten much that I 
 would otherwise have remembered. 
 Very Respectfully, 
 
 Your Obd't Serv't, 
 "W. B. Franklin, 
 
 Maj. Gen. U. 8. Vols. 
 Henry M. Benedict, Esq., 
 Albany, I^. Y. 
 
 H'd. Qrs. 19th A. C, Camp Russell, Va., 
 
 Nov. 29, 1864. 
 Henry M. Benedict, Esq., 
 Dear Sir : 
 
 We are still in the field, and I do not know that this 
 campaign, unsurpassed for its activity, is yet ended. This 
 has been, and is still, my excuse for not doing what has 
 been nearest my heart, — writing some account of your 
 brother. Col. Benedict, who fell under my command. I 
 have not had, nor have I now, the opportunity to refer to 
 the statistics of his military history. Under these circum- 
 stances you must forgive me for being brief. 
 
 Col. Benedict was honorably engaged in the siege of 
 Port Hudson, where he exhibited his most distinguished 
 military characteristic, personal courage. His first field 
 service under me was during the Red River campaign, 
 where, on account of his well known gallantry and high 
 
161 
 
 cliaracter as an officer, I selected him to command a bri- 
 gade. Of his noble and patriotic death I cannot speak in 
 terms of too great admiration, although I am now too much 
 engaged to give a detailed account of the circumstances 
 under which it occurred. 
 
 He commanded the 3d Brigade, 1st Division 19th Army 
 Corps, during the battle of Sabine Cross Eoads, where we 
 were brought into action after the 13th Corps and the cavalry 
 had been routed ; and he there aided in checking and driv- 
 ing back an overwhelming force of the enemy, flushed 
 with temporary success. The next day, at Pleasant Hill, 
 still in command of the same brigade of my division, he 
 fell at the head of his men bearing the brunt of that 
 bloody battle. 
 
 I am, my Dear Sir 
 Very truly yours, 
 
 W. H. Emory, 
 Brig. Gen. 
 
 Dover Mines, Goochland County, Va., "I 
 March Uth, 1866. J 
 Henry M. Benedict, Esq., 
 Dear Sir : 
 * * * It gives me sincere pleasure to have an 
 opportunity to express the high appreciation which I have 
 of the character and services of your late lamented brother, 
 whom it was my good fortune to meet often during our 
 service in the Department of the Gulf. 
 
 He joined, to a high order of capacity and fine soldierly 
 qualities, a warm heart and most genial manner, so that 
 while he inspired confidence in his ability to command, he 
 also gained the warm affection of those with whom he was 
 associated. 
 
152 
 
 His presence in tlie command always gave me both 
 confidence and pleasure ; and his death was to me the most 
 saddening personal event of the campaign in which he fell. 
 In this feeling I believe all in the Army of the Gulf 
 participated. 
 
 "With great respect, 
 
 I am, Dear Sir, 
 Yr. Mo. Obd't. Serv't, 
 
 Chas. p. Stone. 
 Formerly Brig. Gen and Chief of Staff, 
 
 Dept. of the Gulf. 
 
 Portland, Me., June 29, 1864. 
 Sir : 
 
 * * * I did not see the Colonel myself after the 
 enemy attacked. * * * jj^ both actions, of 
 Sabine Cross Roads and Pleasant Hill, Col. Benedict sent 
 his orders to me by his Aides, and it was too dark during 
 the first battle for me to see him. * * * 
 
 The 3d Brigade was in a hard position, with its left en- 
 tirely unprotected. It received alone the full force of the 
 Enemy's attack, which compelled it to fall back. The 
 ground was very open and Col. Benedict much ex- 
 posed. As the three other Regiments retreated towards 
 the right, while I retreated towards the left, I could not 
 see Col. B. and the remainder of the Brigade, and in the 
 general advance it was diflicult to distinguish anything. 
 CoL. Benedict was a most gallant soldier and fell in the 
 thickest of the fight. He, with his Brigade, repulsed an 
 attack on our left, at Sabine Cross Roads, and saved the 
 army from being turned at that point. 
 
153 
 
 My intercourse with, your Brother was of the most 
 agreeable character. When I first arrived in Franklin, 
 La., he supplied me with a horse, accompanied me to a 
 good camp ground, which he had previously chosen for 
 my Reg't., and in various ways evidenced his forethought 
 and care. Such attention was unexpected and pleasant, 
 for, in my previous experience, I had always been left to 
 find nay own camp ground and everything else. Our 
 acquaintance, thus happily begun, continued till we became 
 good friends. I sympathize with you in your great loss. 
 
 I recollect that just as the enemy emerged from the 
 woods, I looked around, and saw the Colonel sitting upon 
 his horse, near the brow of the slope and by the side of his 
 Brigade color. He was in full view of the whole attack- 
 ing line of the enemy. The Brigade fell back over that 
 slope. I did not see him afterwards, but understood that 
 he fell somewhat in front and near the place where I last 
 saw him. 
 
 I regret that I can give you no more explicit informa- 
 tion. 
 
 I am very truly 
 
 Your Obd't. Servant, 
 Henry M. Benedict. Francis Fessenden. 
 
 Brig. Gen. U. S. V. 
 
 Saratoga Springs, \ 
 December 16, 1865. J 
 Henry M. Benedict, Esq. 
 
 Dear Sir : 
 * * * I was well acquainted with your Brother 
 before the "War, but did not meet him in the Army until 
 the advance on Alexandria, La., during the Red River 
 Campaign in 1864. 
 
154 
 
 On tlie march, lie passed me several times on liis way 
 from the rear to the front, and, sometimes, when my com- 
 mand was marching on his flank, I had opportunities to 
 converse with him for hours. He was commanding a 
 Brigade of Infantry. He expressed himself very confident 
 of success when speaking of the final result of the Union 
 cause, but did not seem over sanguine as to that of the 
 campaign. 
 
 After we left Alexandria, I did not see him until the 
 morning after the battle of Sabine Cross Roads, when, by 
 chance, he rode into my camp, at Pleasant Hill, about 
 2 A. M. I had received orders to saddle, and was taking my 
 cofiee when he came up to my fire and took breakfast with 
 me. He gave me a full account of that fight, and said his 
 men had behaved splendidly. 
 
 I left him at 4 o'clock that morning, and did not see him 
 again until the afternoon when I saw him lifeless. He had 
 been killed in his front line while repelling a charge of the 
 enemy. He was greatly beloved by his men, and equally 
 respected by his superiors in command. There was no 
 braver man, no warmer friend, than Col. Lew. Benedict. 
 He has joined the thousands who gave their lives for their 
 country, and History, I trust, will do him justice; but, if 
 it should not, he will receive it from many who saw him 
 standing as a mark for the sharpshooters of the enemy, 
 charging in three lines, and heard, above the roar of battle, 
 his last words : " Steady, Boys ! they must not pass this 
 line ! Charge ! " 
 
 In that charge he fell. 
 
 I am, very Respectfully, 
 Your Obd't. Servt., 
 
 Morgan H. Chrysler, 
 Col. 2d IT. Y. Vet. Cav., 
 and Bv't. Maj. Gen. U. S. Y. 
 
155 
 
 Head-Quarters Excelsior (2nd) Brigade) 
 ■JzTii Division, 2nd Army Corps, V 
 
 AiyririSfh, 18GI. J 
 
 Dear Sir : 
 
 I was deeply pained yesterday to hear of the death of 
 your brother Colonel Lewis Benedict. 
 
 I trust that the intimate rehitions which existed between 
 the late Colonel and myself, during his term of service as 
 Lieut. Colonel of my Regiment, will warrant me in express- 
 ing to yourself and the other members of your family, the 
 sincere and heartfelt sympathy not only of myself, but of 
 every officer and soldier in the 4th Regt. Excelsior Briffade 
 in this hour of your affliction. 
 
 For more than a year, the late Colonel and myself were 
 comrades in arms; frequently occupying the same tent, 
 sleeping under the same blanket — during that time our 
 relations were ever of the most kindly nature. 
 
 As a soldier he was brave and gallant — as a man, true in 
 every relation of life — as a son, a brother, a citizen and 
 friend. His many noble qualities of mind and heart, 
 endeared him to all. He was an officer whose loss to the 
 service is irreparable. His influence and exertions were 
 always given to elevate the tone and standard of the Vol- 
 unteer service in camp, while his patriotism and gallantry 
 have been conspicuous in the field. 
 
 He has moistened with his life's blood the tree of Liberty. 
 
 May Almighty God grant that all the sous that have been 
 given, and the blood which has been poured forth in the 
 defence of our glorious flag may not have been given and 
 shed in vain. 
 
 I am. Sir, 
 
 Yery Respt'fy Yours, 
 
 Wm. R. Brewster, 
 
 Col. Comd'g Brigade. 
 To E. A. Benedict, Esq., 
 
 ]S"ew York. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 010 732 866 A