Pass BCoO / 
 Rnnk W-ZS 
 
A MEMOEIAL 
 
 Giles F. Waed, Je 
 
 Late First Lieut. Twelfth N. Y. Cavalry. 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM lYES BUDmGTOX, D.D., 
 
 pastor of CLINTON avenue C N G R E G A T I Q N A L C H U R C H , 
 BROOKLYN, N. Y. 
 
 27/ 
 
 2^y 
 
 J^-N&ON ID. F. TlJiOSilDOT^FU:, 
 
 770 BROADWAY. 
 
 1866. 
 

 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1866, by 
 
 ANSON D. P. RANDOLPH, 
 
 lu the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for 
 the Southern District of New-York. 
 
 John A. Gray & Green, 
 Printers, iSlereotyj)er8, and Binders^ 
 
 le and 18 Jacob Street, New-York. 
 
MEMORIAL 
 
 Now tliat the strange sad history of sacri- 
 fice and blood is ended, our nationality pre- 
 served, and we at peace ; our first and most 
 sacred daty is to gather up memorials of the 
 heroic dead, and perpetuate the memory of 
 their virtues. Every community throughout 
 the loyal States, I had almost said every 
 household, has been represented in this noble 
 army of martyrs. This Church has precious 
 names to present to a redeemed and grateful 
 country ; names that posterity, heir to the 
 future their blood has made, will not sufier to 
 die. Of one of these I propose to speak, con- 
 strained not less by a sense of duty to the 
 living than to the dead; of Giles F. Ward, 
 
4 MEMORIAL. 
 
 Jr., one of the youngest and most heroic in 
 the volunteer army of the United States. He 
 was born on the twenty-second of February, 
 1845, and died before his twentieth birthday, 
 on the twenty-eighth of January, 1865, hav- 
 ing served his country as First Lieutenant in 
 the Kinety-Second regiment, New- York State 
 Volunteers; next as Adjutant of the regi- 
 ment; and then as Aid-de-Camp upon the 
 staff of General Palmer ; and finally as First 
 Lieutenant in the Twelfth New- York Cavalry. 
 
 ELEMENTS OF CHARACTER. 
 
 The elements of his character were affec- 
 tionateness, purity, and nobleness — traits 
 which shone conspicuously in him during his 
 army life, and were astir in his breast in early 
 childhood. When nine years of age he was 
 placed in a military academy at Sing Sing, 
 where he remained six years, and obtained 
 his education. The letters which he wrote 
 while at this school, have been placed in my 
 hands ; and more than any that I have read, 
 
MEMORIAL. 5 
 
 they show " the child the father of the man." 
 His character was a natural and consistent 
 growth upward from the small beginnings of 
 boyhood. I have found in his letters, written 
 in the cramped, unformed hand of the little 
 boy, the same love for his home, which 
 burned brightly in his bosom while in the 
 army ; the conscientiousness which grew into 
 an established Christian character ; and the 
 nobleness of spirit which developed into 
 the highest type of heroic manhood. Child- 
 hood has its sorrows as well as its joys, al- 
 though we are apt in after years to remember 
 chiefly the latter; and the principles that a 
 boy acts upon in bearing his troubles, and 
 performing his tasks, are as real and rela- 
 tively as powerful as in after life. Giles was 
 a hero at the age of ten. In language, beauti- 
 ful for artlessness, he confesses his home- sick- 
 ness, and then crowding down his feelings by 
 a sense of duty, adds: " There is no good in 
 being home-sick ; it only makes me feel bad 
 and I am going to try and be a good boy, and 
 
6 3IEM0RIAL. 
 
 be a man, as father says. Although I had 
 rather a thousand times be at home and take 
 comfort with father and mother, I am deter- 
 mined to be a good boy; so you need not 
 worry, because I am sure that I will be a 
 good boy, and please you, my dear mother." 
 It was something more than this, when 
 loving home as he did, he gave reasons why 
 he could not be absent from school at a cer- 
 tain time: " I am a marker ; and a marker 
 has to be there, because he carries the flag ; 
 and of course they want the flag on the 
 parade ; and if any one who was a common 
 private should come and take my place, and 
 did not know any thing about being marker, 
 how do you suppose it would look to see him 
 do every thing wrong? It will spoil the 
 parade ; and you would not like to have the 
 whole parade spoiled, because I was not 
 there to carry the flag." In these words of 
 the boy of nine, spoke the soldier of nine- 
 teen. The little fellow who preferred to the 
 pleasures of home, duty on the mimic parade 
 
MEMORIAL. 7 
 
 of tlie school-grounds, learned, without a 
 sense of sacrifice, to fall into his place in the 
 line of battle, and fly without the sense of 
 fear over the battle-field, with his General's 
 commands. 
 
 What a prophecy was it, also, of a glorious 
 manhood, when this child wrote: ^'I heard 
 old people say so much, that if they could 
 spend their school days over again, they 
 would spend them difierent from what they 
 did, I am determined to make the best of my 
 school days, and try and learn as much as I 
 can, and when I grow up see if I can be an 
 educated man, and do something for America, 
 the free country of America, the country 
 which General Washington was born in, and 
 who, in the Eevolutionary war, often rushed 
 into the hottest of the fight." 
 
 EAELY EELIGIOUS EXPEMEI^CE. 
 
 There runs through his letters also a deeply 
 religious spirit. Before he was nine years 
 old, he wrote : " I feel the want of being a 
 
8 MEMORIAL. 
 
 Christian, and my prayers are more earnest in 
 asking God to make me a Christian. Do pray 
 for me, too, dear father, and ask God fre- 
 quently and earnestly to make me a Christian. 
 I know, father, you will do it without my 
 asking you. O God! will you answer his 
 prayers?" 
 
 At the age of ten I find him trying to be 
 a Christian tha,t summer, yet saying that he 
 can not do it without God's help. " Oh ! that 
 God will help me. Oh 1 that I was a Chris 
 tian, dear mother. I have made up my mind 
 that, with God for my friend and assistant, 
 I shall be able to walk in the strait and 
 narrow road which leads unto eternal life." 
 
 When I read these letters of this dear boy, 
 promising and striving and praying to be a 
 Christian, I no longer wonder at the religious 
 experience which characterized him during 
 the revival of 1861-2, in which he attended 
 inquiry meetings, and soon after united with 
 the Church just before leaving for the seat of 
 war. He underwent no excitement of feeling. 
 
MEMORIAL. 9 
 
 passed tlirougli no depressions, rose into no 
 ecstasies ; he was simply firm and calm in his 
 expression of the hopes and purposes of a 
 Christian ; showing, what is so often the 
 case, and what ought always to be expected 
 in similar cases, that his so-called conversion 
 was but a development and outburst of a 
 religious character, which had its roots in 
 earliest life. 
 
 I do not mean to imply that he had not 
 faults, the faults common to childhood. It 
 would be as mischievous. as it would be false 
 to convey this impression. Good example loses 
 its value, as a power for good over human 
 hearts, unless it be seen to start from amid 
 the weaknesses common to humanity. His 
 teacher writes me, respecting his school-boy 
 days : " While by no means free from faults, 
 he was always amiable under reproof, and 
 truthful in his confessions, never seeking to 
 criminate others, or to screen himself." 
 
 This nobleness of disposition has many 
 beautiful illustrations in his bovish letters. I 
 
10 MEMORIAL. 
 
 find him in one of them laying a plan for all 
 to take the family carriage and meet him at 
 the railroad station; and then remembering 
 there may not be room enough for all, he 
 adds: *'I had just as lief stand up, or even 
 walk, to give any of yon a ride." He spends 
 his Sundays, and what leisure he has other 
 days, reading his Bible, and reading over and 
 over his letters from home. He " shares his 
 
 money and other things, with C B 
 
 and Gr "W , two of his school-fel- 
 lows." He mentions receiving a penitent let- 
 ter from a teacher, who had left the school in 
 disgrace on account of a fight with a boy. 
 He says: "I answered his petition for for- 
 giveness, with a pardon, on condition of his 
 never falling into such habits again." 
 
 MILITARY ENTHUSIASM. 
 
 Such was the boy, his lips unshaded yet 
 with signs of manhood, as he stood before 
 me, early one morning in March, 1862. He 
 had now left school, and was a clerk in an 
 
MEMORIAL. 11 
 
 eminent mercantile house in ISTew-York ; but 
 hearing that I was going to "Washington, he 
 came to bring me his papers, and ask me to 
 see General Casej, and assist him in obtain- 
 ing a commission in the army. The country 
 was ringing with the call to arms; our young 
 men were thronging to the battle-field ; and 
 Giles could not resist the feeling that was 
 impelling him to join the army. The guns 
 of Sumter, indeed, had awakened this desire 
 within him ; but being only sixteen, he was 
 thought by his parents too young, and was 
 persuaded to wait a year. Meantime he had 
 been to Washington to obtain a cadetship at 
 West-Point ; but he arrived there to find that 
 four hundred applicants had entered their 
 names before his. Surrendering this project, 
 he grew stronger in the desire to enter the 
 army, feeling that both by education and 
 natural inclination he was fitted for the ser- 
 vice. When he had reached his seventeenth 
 birthday, he obtained his parents' consent; 
 and after disappointments and delays, which 
 
12 MEMORIAL. 
 
 to his impulsive nature were torturing, he 
 obtained his commission. 
 
 JOINS THE ARMY OF THE POTOMAC. 
 
 He reached his regiment to find it in line 
 of battle, just on the eve of the disastrous 
 repulse of Fair Oaks. It was the crisis of 
 the campaign. Great events were happen- 
 ing daily ; the country was swept by excit- 
 ing rumors ; and our young soldier was 
 plunged immediately into all the toils and 
 perils of war. I find by his letters that he 
 is at work in the trenches ; often without 
 food, and at night falling asleep too exhausted 
 to eat. While he writes fighting is going on, 
 . the booming of cannon is borne past him on 
 ,^^- the breeze. "I should not be surprised," he 
 writes, '' although I do not expect it, if our 
 forces were in Eichmond to-night. You must 
 not feel any concern about me. God will 
 protect and care for me, and I believe he 
 will permit me to return to my family again. 
 When I made up my mind to leave my home 
 
MEMORIAL. 13 
 
 in the service of mj country, I felt that the 
 chances were very shght of my ever return- 
 ing; but I can not help feeling that God 
 is watching over me, and constantly pro- 
 tecting me." In place, however, of going to 
 Eichmond that night, the country and the 
 army alike were confounded by a series of 
 abortive attempts and sanguinary battles; 
 and our lines were thrown back upon the 
 James. He is detailed with his regiment to 
 bring up the rear ; marches with small al- 
 lowances of food and rest ; sleeps in wheat- 
 fields without tents ; is up at three o'clock in 
 the morning to cover the retreat ; is the next 
 night sleeping on his arms in the edge of a 
 wood expecting attack before light ; his re- 
 giment, with two pieces of artillery and two 
 companies of cavalry, holds the enemy in 
 check till the wagon-train is safe, and is set 
 to hold the position at all hazards. At 
 length he arrives, thoroughly drenched with 
 three days' rain, so tired as hardly to be able 
 to stand, yet wading through mud up to the 
 
14 MEMORIAL. 
 
 knees ; tlie men losing their shoes and boots 
 — some, knapsacks, blankets, ammunition — 
 every thing, and then half a dozen men pull 
 them out ! The young Lieutenant writes : 
 "I tell you, the people of the North little 
 understand the hardships and sufferiugs of 
 their defenders ; the sleepless nights on 
 picket ; the blistered feet on the march ; the 
 wet clothes and hungry stomachs of our brave 
 soldiers !" 
 
 QUALITIES AS A SOLDIER. 
 
 After the close of the campaign in Yir- 
 ginia, the Ninety-second was ordered to the 
 Department of North-Carolina, and this be- 
 came the field of his most distinguished ex- 
 ploits, and at last, of his untimely death. 
 He was the hero of many a skirmish and ex- 
 ploration, the history of which will probably 
 never be written. He was very reticent 
 about himself, and never alluded to some of 
 the most extraordinary scenes of danger 
 through which he was called to pass, and in 
 which he exhibited such soldierly qualities 
 
MEMORIAL. 15 
 
 as greatly to endear him to comrades and 
 superior ofGicers. Some of tlie most striking 
 of these occurrences have been made known 
 to his family only since his death. When re- 
 monstrated with on one occasion by his father 
 for not keeping more numerous memoranda 
 in his note-book or letters, he playfully point- 
 ed to his head, and said : " It is all here, 
 father ; and one day I mean to write it all 
 out, and perhaps I shall make a book." 
 
 But while the silence of the grave thus 
 rests upon no small part of our young 
 friend's life, I find myself in possession of 
 more facts, by the kindness of some of his 
 companions in arms, than I have time now 
 to present. I must make a selection among 
 these, and pass over much that otherwise I 
 should be glad to narrate. No truer soldier 
 ever faced the missiles of death. No young 
 officer in the army had won a prouder posi- 
 tion than he in the confidence and admira- 
 tion of his commanders. He has already 
 written his name in the history of his coun- 
 
16 MEMORIAL. 
 
 try. In Colonel, afterward General Hunt's 
 official report of the part his regiment took 
 in the battle of Kinston, he makes special 
 mention of Adjutant "Ward, with two other 
 officers, as " conspicuous for gallantry and 
 meritorious conduct." He was often intrust- 
 ed with the conduct of secret expeditions, 
 requiring circumspection and courage in 
 equal measures. Fond of adventure, and 
 full of ambition, he was selected to conduct 
 scouting-parties ; and considering the risks he 
 ran, he was remarkably successful. When 
 General Palmer was asked why he always se- 
 lected young "Ward for this difficult and per- 
 ilous service, he said : ''I do not know, un- 
 less it be that he always does it so promptly 
 and so well." The spirit and resources of 
 a soldier are often more severely tested in 
 scouting-parties, which are conducted secret- 
 ly, and the details of which seldom if ever 
 get into print, than in the grand evolutions 
 of a formal battle. " You should have seen 
 '' riding through the 
 
MEMORIAL. 11 
 
 wood, with our reins in our left hands, a re- 
 volver in our right, and every one of us look- 
 ing in a different direction. We had twen- 
 tv-fonr shots in all, four good revolvers, and 
 any thing less than a dozen guerrillas would 
 have found us a tough bone to pick ; but 
 luckily for us and for them, we did not meet 
 any." 
 
 I feel constrained to pass over much that 
 has deeply interested my own mind — as, for 
 example, the heroic defense of a fort on the 
 east side of the Neuse, opposite New-Bern, 
 by his single regiment, left alone with three 
 or four hundred, to keep at bay as many thou- 
 sands. He was sitting on his military chest 
 in the early gray of the morning, and the 
 first cannon-shot that entered the fort passed 
 directly through the other end of the chest, 
 which had been his bed ; the imperturbable 
 young soldier manifested no excitement. 
 The chest is here to testify to his narrow 
 escape ; but he never spoke of it, and seems 
 not to have minded it. In anticipation of a 
 
18 MEMORIAL. 
 
 second attack upon tlie fort, lie wrote as 
 follows : " Witli God to lielp ns, we can with 
 three hundred and fifty men repel three thou- 
 sand over again. I put my strength in Him, 
 and I believe that He will be with us in the 
 day of battle, and that He will fight for us. 
 Do not be worried or anxious about me, my 
 dear parents ; God will protect me, and if I 
 am to die, I can do so cheerfully, willingly 
 for my country. There is no nobler grave 
 than a patriot's ; and if God wills that I die, I 
 can do so, trusting in the atoning blood of 
 His dear Son," 
 
 DEFENSE OF NEW-BEEN. 
 
 Omitting other passages of his history — al- 
 though in themselves interesting — I will use 
 what time I have in narrating Lieutenant 
 Ward's connection with the defense of New- 
 Bern, when desperately attacked by the reb- 
 els on the first of February, 1864. I derive 
 the facts from his own letters, and from a 
 very interesting and luminous narrative con- 
 
MEMORIAL. 19 
 
 tained in a letter from Colonel Savage, of 
 the Twelfth New-York Cavalry, whose ac- 
 quaintance with our young friend com- 
 menced with these events, and who writes 
 from his own personal knowledge. 
 
 It was about two o'clock in the morning 
 that a furious assault was made upon the 
 Union outposts at Bachelor's Creek, and al- 
 though stoutly resisted, it resulted in forcing 
 that position, and compelling a withdrawal 
 of all our forces behind the fortifications of 
 New-Bern. Most unhappily, by the sudden- 
 ness of the rebel advance, a detachment of 
 the First North-Carolina Union volunteers 
 was cut off, six or eight miles in the interior, 
 and although at the last accounts they had 
 not been attacked, nor apparently discover- 
 ed, it was obvious that they could hold their 
 position but a few hours. Their condition 
 awakened the liveliest sympathy, as it was 
 known the enemy would give these native 
 North-Carolinians no quarter. The rebels 
 would tolerate no rebellion against them- 
 
20 MEMORIAL, 
 
 selves. With cliaracteristic alacrity and zeal 
 Lieutenant Ward volunteered to carry dis- 
 patches from General Palmer to these be- 
 leaguered patriots ; and he evinced so much 
 skill and determination in the execution of 
 this commission, that although he was unsuc- 
 cessful, he drew to himself the attention and 
 admiration of Colonel Savage, who afterward 
 became his commanding officer, and his in- 
 timate personal friend. Communication by 
 land being utterly cut off, the young Lieuten- 
 ant conceived the idea of reaching them by 
 water ; and for this purpose he embarked in 
 a row-boat, the gig of the Underwriter ; and 
 taking with him five armed men and an act- 
 ing master, with a scout, he got through the 
 rebel lines an hour or two after midnio-ht, 
 during a severe rain, and in the deepest 
 darkness. The achievement was wonderful ; 
 he passed within twenty feet of the enemy's 
 jDickets, and heard their conversation while 
 he threaded the tortuous channel of the creek 
 for a distance of fifteen miles. When he 
 
MEMORIAL. 21 
 
 found himself about three miles from the 
 place he wished to reach, he landed with his 
 party, and made two attempts to get through 
 the swamp to our men, but found it impossi- 
 ble. Meantime the night was wearing away ; 
 he had to retrace his steps; the river was 
 swarming with boats ; and as appeared after- 
 ward, they had observed his ascent, and were 
 sure of his capture in returning. A bright 
 light began to illuminate the heavens over 
 New-Bern ; it was, as he learned afterward, 
 the burning of the Underwriter by the boats 
 through which he had been so providentially 
 guided. Heavy firing followed ; and the 
 gray dawn was appearing in the east. The 
 General had given him up for lost ; but short- 
 ly after daylight he regained the city. But 
 the poor Union North-Carolinians were left 
 to their fate — a fate so melancholy, that it 
 forms one of the darkest pages in the history 
 of a war, among the saddest and most atroci- 
 ous of history. 
 The rebels, about fifteen thousand strong, 
 
22 MEMORIAL. 
 
 had also cut off communication between 
 New-Bern and Beaufort ; and Lieutenant 
 Ward was next commissioned to open this 
 with an iron-clad car. In the last sixty-eight 
 hours he had been in the saddle with but 
 two hours' sleep ; but before going to bed he 
 writes to his parents : " Don't be worried 
 about my going to Beaufort to-morrow, as I 
 shall be in an iron-clad with two pieces of 
 artillery." He was successful ; and it must 
 have been a happy moment with the young 
 soldier when he penned this hasty and blur- 
 red postscript : "I have got here safely, and 
 opened the communications with Beaufort. 
 I inclose you a desjpatch General Palmer 
 sent me last night." It was in these words : 
 "Lieutenant "Ward, you have done well 
 to-day. Come back as soon as you can 
 conveniently. Geneeal Palmer." 
 
 TESTIMONY OF COLONEL SAVAGE. 
 
 I have compiled this narrative, in part from 
 the letters of the writer himself, and in part 
 
MEMORIAL. 23 
 
 from Colonel Savage's account ; for what re- 
 mains I am indebted solely to the latter ; and 
 I will quote his own words : 
 
 "After the repulse of the enemy on this 
 occasion, my intimacy with Mr. Ward gradu- 
 ally increased, until he was a frequent and 
 welcome visitor at my camp, and I never rode 
 into Kew-Bern without calling at his quarters. 
 We were not, however, together again in any 
 action until the fourth of May, when the 
 rebel forces attacked the camp of the Twelfth 
 New- York Cavalry, on the Trent road, about 
 seven miles from New-Bern. Hardly had 
 my telegram announcing this fact had time 
 to reacli New-Bern, as I supposed, when 
 the Lieutenant galloped up to my quarters 
 as full of glee and enthusiasm as if he had 
 been invited to a festival instead of a battle. 
 For the next two or three days he seemed 
 almost ubiquitous. The assault was no 
 sooner repulsed on the Trent road, than 
 lie had crossed the river to meet a new 
 movement on the south, side. Now pene- 
 
24 MEMORIAL. 
 
 trating with tlie 'monitor,' an iron-clad 
 car, (wliicTi was liis especial j)et,) clown the 
 railroad far within the enemy's lines, giving 
 them a few charges of shell and grape, and 
 getting back before the track could be torn 
 up in his rear; now borrowing a few of 
 mj men for a dash at some out-lying pick- 
 et ; now crawling out alone to ascertain 
 some position, and now politely meeting 
 some flag of truce ; he did perhaps more 
 than any other man to magnify our strength 
 and dishearten the confederates, who, after 
 some vain attempts to frighten the com- 
 manding general, at last sullenly retired. 
 
 " Lieutenant Ward's coolness in action was 
 perhaps never more strikingly illustrated 
 than in a little skirmish which occurred in 
 the evening of the twenty-second of June, 
 1864, at Sneed's Ferry, on the New Eiver, 
 in North-Carolina. A small cavalry col- 
 xmin, after a three days' march, was ap- 
 proaching that place just at night-fall, and 
 in passing through a narrow defile, thickly 
 
MEMORIAL. 25 
 
 wooded, came upon an ambuscade, so skill- 
 fully arranged and hidden, that the advance- 
 guard was almost in the midst of it before 
 it was discovered. At the first volley the 
 horse of Captain M., who, with Lieutenant 
 "Ward and one or two other officers, was 
 riding at the head of the column, was shot, 
 and fell upon him, crushing his leg and 
 pinning him to the ground. And as the 
 head of the column slightly wavered for 
 a moment with the sudden surprise, the 
 Lieutenant was left sitting almost alone on 
 his horse, a plain mark for a body of sharp- 
 shooters who were firing at him from a dis- 
 tance of not over five yards. It is, of course, 
 little credit to him to say that he sat quietlj^ 
 upon his horse waiting for orders, with death 
 apparently certain before him ; but, in addi- 
 tion to this, there was an ease and nonchalance 
 in his demeanor, which made a deep impres- 
 sion upon me at the time, and which I can 
 never forget. A moment afterwards his 
 horse was creased by a bullet and fell, car- 
 
26 MEMORIAL. 
 
 rjing the Lieutenant with him, into a ditch 
 by the road-side. I had hardly noticed his 
 disappearance, when I heard his cool, quiet, 
 measured tones at my side : ' Colonel, you see 
 I am dismounted : have you any orders for 
 me?' 'Yes,' I replied, 'get Captain M. out 
 from under his horse.' Captain M. had fall- 
 en so near the bushes, that he could have 
 been easily reached with a bayonet from 
 the ambush, and the Lieutenant could not see, 
 as I could from my horse, that our opponents 
 were beginning to leave their position. To 
 him, therefore, it was as if I had ordered him 
 to throw himself upon the enemy's weapons. 
 He glanced at my face with a look of half 
 surprise, as if to see if I were in earnest, but 
 turned immediately and stepped as coolly as 
 if on dress-parade up to the Captain, where I 
 saw him a moment after tugging at the dead 
 horse's tail with all his might."* 
 
 * See Appendix A. 
 
MEMORIAL. 27 
 
 HIS LAST EXPEDITION". 
 
 Our young friend did not receive his death- 
 wound from the enemies of his country. It 
 pleased God to order it otherwise. On an 
 expedition, in an unsuspecting moment, when 
 danger and death were nnthought of, by the 
 careless handling of a fire-arm in his own 
 hand and that of a friend, the fatal bullet 
 entered his body, and he fell in death, almost 
 as soon as he was aware that he was hurt."^* 
 To human eyes it was an accident ; but there 
 is no hap-hazard with G-od. We bow to the 
 event, assured that God has some good pur- 
 pose to subserve ; and with this confidence, 
 we can afford to wait until the perfect light 
 shall chase all shadows from our hearts. 
 I shall not attempt to describe the effect pro- 
 duced by his sudden death, alike in the army 
 and here among his home friends. A fellow - 
 of&cer, in a letter to his friends in an adjoin- 
 ing State, describes in a few words the funeral 
 
 * Appendix B. 
 
28 MEMORIAL. 
 
 scene at New-Bern: '' I had the sad pleasure 
 of attending to every little particular con- 
 nected with the funeral, from the time the 
 body arrived here, till we laid it gently 
 down aboard the steamer. I never wit- 
 nessed a more impressive scene than that 
 procession. An escort of his own com- 
 pany; a band playing a solemn dirge; the 
 hearse containing the mortal part of my 
 dear, dear Ward ; his favorite horse, led by 
 his servant ; and from fifty to sixty of&cers 
 following each other, each one a sincere 
 mourner." 
 
 '' The influence of that life has survived 
 him," writes a soldier. "I have seen this 
 in E"orth-Carolina. It must be so in New- 
 York. Strange as it seems to us that Giles 
 was not permtted to fill out his life with the 
 richness and ripeness it promised, I must 
 believe that his death has spoken as loudly 
 as his life could have done to his associates ; 
 and perhaps he wields a stronger weapon 
 than ever against sin and wrong." 
 
MEMORIAL. 29 
 
 **I forbear,'' wrote his Colonel, "all ac- 
 count of the last few clays of his short life. 
 He parted from me with an expression of 
 regret that he was obliged to go, and a wish 
 that he could remain with his company, to 
 which he had become so much attached. I 
 never saw him afterwards. But during the 
 long and tedious marches, and the sharp con- 
 flicts that the regiment was subsequently 
 destined to pass tlirough, there was not a 
 day that I did not miss the young hero, al- 
 ways so ready, so gallant, so soldierly, and 
 so gentle. Such were the fascinations of his 
 manner, and the winning sweetness of his 
 disposition, that there was not perhaps a man 
 in the district more beloved by all classes 
 than he. His death, therefore, was not less 
 saddening than sudden and terrible. But so 
 thoughtful, devout, and conscientious was he, 
 so accustomed to face death, tliat it doubtless 
 had no such suddenness or terror for him. 
 To him it was not 
 
30 MEMORIAL. 
 
 * So much even as the Ufting of a latch : 
 Only a step into the open air 
 Out of a tent already luminous 
 "With light that shines through its transparent -walls.' "* 
 
 TEAITS OF CHAEACTEE. 
 
 It now remains for me to indicate some of 
 the prominent traits of this remarkable young 
 man. His was a cliaracter distinguislied for 
 its proportionateness and early maturity. In 
 the visit which his father paid him just be- 
 fore his death, when he saw him in the midst 
 of his command, dispatching business, and 
 bearing ujDon his shoulders of less than 
 twenty years, a weight of responsibility to 
 which, the broad shoulders of a ripened man- 
 hood would scarcely seem sufficient, the fa- 
 ther felt that he had never known his son 
 till then ! 
 
 His was an earnest soul, and his life an 
 earnest one. When at school and nine or 
 ten years of age, he was looking forward to 
 
 * Appendix C, 
 
MEMORIAL. 31 
 
 manliood, and felt enkindling within him 
 the desire to do something, not alone for his 
 family and kindred, but for his ccmntrj. As 
 he grew in boyhood, he grew in thonghtfol- 
 ness of future life, and in desire for useful- 
 ness. When the war broke out, and the boy 
 of seventeen offered himself to go into the 
 high places of the field, it was not a flash 
 of enthusiasm, not a love of adventure, not 
 a passion for military renown ; all these 
 motives would have spent themselves in 
 three months of such unexampled privations, 
 while his zeal steadily waxed in earnestness 
 throughout the three years of his military 
 life. It was demonstrably a sober sense of 
 duty to God and his country that actuated 
 him. Familiar with the drill, and con- 
 scious of the ability to do service as an 
 ofiicer, he gave himself to the Government, 
 and never wavered in purpose ; serving out 
 his first term of enlistment, and then re- 
 enhsting without even a furlough. It is 
 indeed true that a military life was congenial 
 
32 MEMORIAL. 
 
 to his tastes; but uot on this account did he 
 go into the war, nor wish its continuance. 
 Writing to his father, (AjDril twenty-sixth, 
 1864,) he says: ''On my own account, I 
 care not how long this war may last ; in fact, 
 my tastes incline me to wish its continuance, 
 for it gives me service and an occupation, 
 not only honorable, but such an one as entire- 
 ly suits with my disposition and inclinations • 
 but for the sake of our poor unhajDpy coun- 
 tr}^, I pray God to grant us peace, for I be- 
 lieve that the future welfare and the ad- 
 vancement of civilization depends in an 
 eminent degree upon the result of this war." 
 
 INDIFFERENCE TO EANK. 
 
 The purity of his motives is singularly 
 witnessed by his indifference to rank. He 
 was once formally and officially offered a 
 Major's commission in the Seventeenth Mas- 
 sachusetts. He debated the subject for 
 several days, and at length made this reply : 
 "If you will guarantee that the regiment 
 
MEMORIAL. 33 
 
 will shortly be ordered to tlie army of the 
 Potomac, or elsewhere into active service, I 
 will accept — otherwise, I shall consider it my 
 duty to stay with the General." He was 
 also offered a Lieutenant-Colonelcy in a new 
 regiment of cavalry. Upon the expiration 
 of his enlistment in the Ninety-second New- 
 York Volunteers, it was General Palmer's 
 wish to retain him in the service, and if 
 possible, in ISTorth-Carolina. He accepted 
 a Lieutenancy in the Twelfth New- York 
 Cavalry; and declined a captaincy offered 
 him by Colonel Savage, saying, that "for 
 a while he preferred the rank he then held, 
 and that his ambition was rather for dis- 
 tinction in the field than on the muster-roll." 
 ''I have no doubt," says the Colonel, "that 
 this was the sincere feeling of his heart." He 
 made this impression also upon his friends at 
 home ; his sense of duty caused those who 
 loved him as their own life, to make it their 
 sense of duty to comply with his wishes; 
 and when his father was returning from the 
 
34 MEMORIAL. 
 
 grave of his only son, it was the recollection 
 of this that led him to say: "I do not think 
 I erred in giving him permission to go. Had 
 I another son, and he should say to me, as 
 Giles did, 'I feel it to be my duty to join 
 the army in defense of my country's rights,' 
 I would now say to him, Go !" 
 
 INDUSTRY. 
 
 It was part of the earnestness of his 
 character, that he applied himself industri- 
 ously to the duties of his profession. In 
 childhood, owing perhaps to an intellectual 
 development so far beyond his years, and 
 so springing from the body rather than the 
 mind, I find him described by his teachers, as 
 manifesting " a certain indolence of disposi- 
 tion," making him ''content to avoid censure, 
 when he might have won the brightest hon- 
 ors of his class." In the army, however, 
 there were no signs of lassitude or indolence. 
 A fellow-lieutenant writes me : " He was 
 never idle. He made himself a great deal 
 
MEMORIAL. 35 
 
 of work, which pertained to his staff position, 
 and a great portion of his time was devoted 
 to that. When not thus engaged, he was 
 reading some standard military work, or 
 studying tactics. On his table were always 
 his Bible, Infantry, "Cavalry, and Artillery 
 Tactics, Scott's Military Dictionary, and other 
 works of importance to a soldier. He had 
 been so long accustomed to the stirring 
 duties and incidents of war-time, that it was 
 not natural for him to study deeply any thing ; 
 but what time he could spare was not wasted 
 with extraneous matters. To use an expres- 
 sion of his own, he ' put in every minute.' '' 
 Upon becoming an officer in a cavalry regi- 
 ment, instead of remaining, as it had been 
 supposed he would, on the staff of General 
 Palmer, he joined his company at once, to 
 fit himself for active duty in the field, then 
 daily expected. " He commenced, therefore," 
 writes Colonel Savage, " a rigid and thorough 
 course of study and drill, under which he 
 was qualifying himself with astonishing rapid- 
 
36 MEMORIAL. 
 
 it J for the duties of a cavalry officer ; when 
 he reluctantly left his books and exercising 
 ground for the ill-fated expedition which cost 
 him his life." 
 
 "A few nights before, in a bitterly cold 
 season, upon an alarm that the outposts were 
 attacked, he had turned out with his com- 
 pany, and had remained at his post, with all 
 his customary cheerfulness and good nature, 
 until all suspicion of danger was over. It 
 was the last time that I saw him on duty, 
 the last time but one that I ever saw him." 
 
 LOVE OF HOME. 
 
 He was exemplary in filial love and in 
 attachment to his friends. Of his affection 
 for his home, I have perhaps given proofs 
 enough. But the ardor of his love for his 
 home must be borne in mind to estimate 
 aright the nobleness of his character ; it was 
 this that made his patriotism heroic, princi- 
 pled and Christian. 
 
 Writing from North-Carolina, on the 
 
MEMORIAL. 31 
 
 twenty-eiglitli of June, 1863, at a time, wlieii 
 a great number of the troops had been sent 
 to the Peninsula, leaving but a handful to 
 defend the conquests of the Union arms in 
 that State, he resigns the prospect of seeing 
 his home that summer, and says: "I think 
 that in this, the darkest hour of the country's 
 need, I love it better and revere it more than 
 ever. One life seems little to offer to my 
 country." Alluding to his father's ill-health 
 and his anxiety to help him and the family, 
 he adds: "Something tells me I am doing 
 my duty, in fighting for my country ; but I 
 see so much distress and suffering among the 
 poor inhabitants here, that it makes my heart 
 ache. I was talking to one of them yester- 
 day; and, speaking about the war and its con- 
 sequences, she told me, that her greatest suf- 
 fering and anxiety was for the poor soldiers, 
 and that for that alone she wished this war 
 over; and then she asked me if I had a 
 mother, and talked to me as if I were a 
 friend, or one of 'their own soldiers, instead 
 
38 MEMORIAL. 
 
 of an enemy. Oh ! liow I "wish. I could see 
 mj dear mother to-night, and give her one 
 good-night kiss." 
 
 A boy who could write thus from the 
 battle-field, long after its novelties had ceased 
 to allure, and after long experience of its 
 exposures and dangers, proves that he has 
 kept unsoiled the purity he brought with 
 him from his home, and has added to it the 
 grandeur of a Christian patriotism. 
 
 HIS friendship's. 
 
 He was strong also in his friendships, al- 
 though not forward to form intimacies, but 
 slow to make acquaintances, and pronounced 
 *' formal even to coldness, toward strangers." 
 When once he had chosen a friend, he was 
 unreserved in his confidence, and ardent in 
 his attachment. ''I praise him," writes one 
 of his comrades to me, ''first and perhaps 
 most of all, for his friendship. In health 
 and sickness, danger and safety, joy and sor- 
 row, prosperity and trial, it never faltered or 
 
MEMORIAL. 39 
 
 grew cold for an instant. He was truer than 
 steel. His love was as gentle as the sunshine, 
 and as strong as the everlasting hills. If I 
 knew no more of his Christian life, than that 
 he had once openlj professed his love of 
 God and Christ, I should be sure that months 
 and years but added to the amount and 
 strength of that love." 
 
 The care he took in forming his friendships 
 is witnessed bj a letter he wrote home, upon 
 hearing that an of&cer had called at his fa- 
 ther's house upon the strength of acquaint- 
 ance with him. He wishes it to be distinctly 
 understood, that the officer in question call- 
 ed by no suggestion of his ; that although a 
 man of acknowledged abilities, and capable 
 of being an honor to his profession, and use- 
 ful to the Grovernment, yet addicted to gam- 
 bling and profanity, and totally unprincipled, 
 he had never ranked him among his friends, 
 and abstained from all association with him, 
 beyond the requirement of his official duties 
 
40 MEMORIAL. 
 
 HIS SELF-CONTEOL. 
 
 He was endowed witli an extraordinary 
 mastery over his own feelings. 
 
 His face was the index of Ms character in 
 this respect ; it was remarkable for placidity ; 
 the full, round lines of childhood were car- 
 ried into manhood — years of intense and ex- 
 cited activity writing no wrinkles, and leav- 
 ing no trace of their passage, save an added 
 brownness. His instructor at the Military 
 Academy (Major Benjamin) says of him, 
 while a boy in that school : ' ' Nothing seem- 
 ed to annoy him ; certainly nothing was able 
 to discompose him. Under those various cir- 
 cumstances which put other boys into a vio- 
 lent rage, he remained perfectly cool, and 
 exercised his judgment as if nothing unusual 
 were happening. Hence he not only won 
 the esteem of his associates, but also obtain- 
 ed a great mastery over them. In the whole 
 course of his studies at this Institution I do 
 not remember that he was ever found in an- 
 
MEMORIAL. 41 
 
 ger with his fellow-students, or gave utter- 
 ance to an impertinent word to his instruc- 
 tors." 
 
 Those who knew him in his army life, will 
 recognize this portrait drawn from his boy 
 life. A fellow- oJBfi-cer, who was with him 
 every day, and saw him under all circum- 
 stances of trial, does not remember any in- 
 stance, but says that there loas none^ when he 
 *' forgot himself, or lost his temper in the 
 slightest degree." 
 
 There was something in his character, in 
 this regard; that reminded one of the Father 
 of his Country. Born on the twenty-second 
 of February, and in his childhood dreaming 
 of emulating the life of Washington, he sug- 
 gested the parallel in after years, not to the 
 fond and loving hearts of his own family, 
 but to some who knew him only as they saw 
 him in camp and on the battle-field. A phy- 
 sician, director of the Sanitary Commission 
 in New-Bern, a stranger to the family, wrote 
 of him : " I have time and again rigidly test- 
 
42 MEMORIAL, 
 
 ed liis qualities of mind and heart, and in- 
 variably witli tlie result compelling my ad- 
 miration. He was as gentle in society as he 
 was resolute in action. He had the cast of 
 features and expression of countenance which 
 favored my idea of Washington in his youth, 
 and which made me the more curious to 
 study his manners and actions." 
 
 HIS INTEGKITY AND PURITY. 
 
 But the crowning glory of his character 
 was his high moral and religious principle. 
 He was a faithful soldier of Jesus Christ. 
 The purity he carried into the war he main- 
 tained through it. The innocence of child- 
 hood in him seemed naturally to harden into 
 the integrity of manhood. When he had 
 made up his mind what was right, it seemed 
 as if temptations of ease, glory, and wealth 
 had no power over him. A cotton specu- 
 lator once offered him a chance to defraud 
 the Government of a large amount, and ap- 
 propriate it to himself. " The speculator," 
 
MEMORIAL. 43 
 
 says an officer who knew of tlie transaction, 
 " will never forget the rebuke he received 
 from that honest boy." Kemarkable for his 
 self-control, if he ever lost it, it was in ex- 
 posing wrong. He was a bold reprover. 
 "Wrong-doing served to level for him all 
 distinctions of rank and position ; and he did 
 not hesitate to expose the offender, whoever 
 he might be. He seemed, to some that 
 heard him on such occasions, to suppose 
 himself appointed, and especially privileged 
 to hit sin wherever he could find it. At any 
 rate he did it. And there are not a few, it is 
 said, who still smart from the recollection of 
 his unsparing rebuke and indignation. 
 
 PERSONAL ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 
 
 It is very seldom in a generation that so 
 many and so different traits blend into the 
 harmony of a single character ; honor with 
 the humility of Christian discipleship ; pliy- 
 sical beauty and strength with a mind well- 
 endowed and cultured with study ; a fiery 
 
44 MEMORIAL. 
 
 ambition with indifference to mere distinc- 
 tions of rank. Beauty of person was in him 
 a rare symbol of the inner beauty of his souL 
 It was said of him in the armj^, that he could 
 ride farther and faster in a given time than 
 any body else ; he could sail and row a boat 
 better ; hit a mark with a carbine oftener ; 
 go longer without food or sleep ; in a word, 
 he combined, to an extraordinary degree, 
 the graces and accomplishments of person 
 which in all ages have been the special, am- 
 bition of the gentleman and soldier. He was 
 the best shot in his regiment, as was estab- 
 lished by the shooting-matches held every 
 morning after breakfast. The mark, on one 
 occasion, was a small piece of paper, fixed 
 by a 23in in the centre to a board twenty-two 
 rods off. The paper was struck by two of 
 his fellow-ofiacers — one cutting off an edge, 
 and another passing his ball through a cor- 
 ner; but he drove the pin through the 
 board. 
 
MEMORIAL. 45 
 
 FINAL ESTIMATE. 
 
 May I not add in conclusion, and will any 
 one wlio has listened to tlie facts I liave pre- 
 sented impute to me tlie partiality of a friend 
 and pastor in saying, that this war, remark- 
 able as it has been in almost every feature, 
 and most of all in the wealth of heroic char- 
 acter it has developed, has brought to light 
 none who at his age has accomplished more, 
 and no name deserving a more affectionate 
 and honorable remembrance among the 
 young men of the land? The grave has 
 closed over him, not to hide him from sight, 
 but to put the seal of consecration upon his 
 young life, and for the ages to come to iden- 
 tify his spirit with the spirit of the youth of 
 this land. In his own words, spoken by 
 him, when facing death, and communing 
 with all that is terrible in it : " There is no 
 nobler grave than a patriot's; and if God 
 wills that I die, I can do so cheerfally, will- 
 ingly for my country, trusting in the atoning 
 
46 MEMORIAL. 
 
 blood of his dear Son." He is filling- to- 
 day a patriot's grave in the soil of a State 
 holding with his the ashes of Winthrop and 
 Lyon and Sedgwick. He lies near the spot 
 where the nimble feet of his boyhood skip- 
 ped ; within sight of the happy scenes of his 
 childhood ; the air that once rang with, his 
 merry laugh sighs above him ; flowers shall 
 bloom and snow fall, and ere long, all that 
 loved him, and acted with him, shall be gath- 
 ered to share his sleep : but no nobler grave 
 than his will be there ; and from no sleeping 
 dust will purer inspirations arise, to nerve 
 other generations for the exigencies that in 
 other times are to come upon our country. 
 The lines of our own Palmer, upon the bu- 
 rial of the lamented General Eice, are not 
 less fitted to his fellow-patriot and Christian, 
 Lieutenant Ward : 
 
 *' Rest, soldier, rest ! thy weary task is done ; 
 
 Thy God, thy country, thou hast served them well : 
 
 * Appendix D. 
 
MEMORIAL, 4Y 
 
 Thine is true glory— glory bravely won : 
 
 On lips of men unborn thy name shall dwell. 
 
 " Rest, patriot, Christian ! thou hast early died, 
 But days are measured best by noble deeds ; 
 Brief though thy course, thy name thou hast allied 
 To those of whom the world admiring reads. 
 
 " Rest, manly form ! eternal love shall keep 
 Thy still repose, till breaks the final dawn ; 
 Our martyr sleeps not there — he knew no sleep ! 
 On death's dark shadow burst a cloudless morn ! 
 
 " Live ! live on fame's bright scroll, heroic friend ! 
 Thy memory now we to her record give — 
 To earth, thy dust : our thoughts to heaven ascend. 
 Where, with the immortals, thou dost ever live !" 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 In addition to the extracts from Lieutenant 
 AVard's letters, made in the discourse, it has 
 been thought best to append such others as 
 bear upon his military experience. The last 
 of those which follow, bearing the date of 
 January sixth, 1865, was the last he €ver 
 wrote : 
 
 June 26, 1862. 
 
 "We are fortifying our camp very strongly, 
 as we expect an attack from the rebels from 
 Charles City. But we have a strong position, 
 well defended naturally, and plenty of ar- 
 tillery. 
 
 They had a severe engagement yesterday 
 in our front, and we hear that our men drove 
 the enemy some two miles, taking two forts 
 
50 APPENDIX. 
 
 and thirty odd pieces of artillery. I was thir- 
 teen hours in the trenches yesterday. Major 
 King, who had the superintendence of the 
 work, detached me from my command to as- 
 sist him in laying out the line of fortifica- 
 tions and superintending their construction. 
 I did not eat a mouthful from breakfast, at 
 five o'clock, until this morning — only drank a 
 cup of tea last night ; but was too exhausted 
 to eat. 
 
 General Wessells praised our camp and that 
 of the Eighty-first ISTew-York as the neatest, 
 best, and cleanest in the whole division. 
 
 Copy of a letter written in pencil on some 
 
 leaves from his memorandum-book, during the 
 
 retreat across the Peninsula to Harrison's 
 
 Landing : 
 
 Ox THE March, July 4, 1862. 
 
 My Dear Father : When you learn what 
 I have been doing the past week, you will 
 doubtless understand why I haA^e not written 
 you. Last Friday the terrible battle on the 
 right of our lines was fought ; and on Satur- 
 day I was detailed with sixty men to build 
 a bridge, which was to aid our army in 
 crossing White Oak Swamp. I was hard at 
 
APPENDIX. 51 
 
 work there until seven o'clock in the even- 
 ing, when we returned to our camp for the 
 night. Sunday morning, at eight o'clock, we 
 took up our line of march, and marched a few 
 miles, and then rested about an hour, when 
 we started again, and marched all the rest of 
 the day, all night, and next day, until ten 
 o'clock, when we stopped to get our break- 
 fast, and then marched until night. At night 
 we slept in a wheat-field, with no tents, and 
 were up at three o'clock in the morning in 
 line of battle, to cover the retreat, as we were 
 bringing up the rear. About noon we start- 
 ed again, and marched till night, and camped 
 in the edge of the woods, sleeping on our 
 arms, as we expected an attack before morn- 
 ing. At two o'clock we started to cover the 
 retreat again, and marched till three o'clock 
 in the afternoon, when we got breakfast, din- 
 ner, and supper together ; and then the rebels 
 commenced throwing shells at us, when we 
 started down into the woods about half a 
 mile in our rear, to hold them in check until 
 the wagons could get down to the river. Our 
 regiment was alone, excepting two pieces of 
 artillery and two companies of cavalry ; and 
 we were to hold our position at all hazards 
 until reenforcements could be sent from the 
 
52 AFFENDIX. 
 
 woods in our rear. While we were there, the 
 shells flew over us pretty thick during the 
 evening and the next day until night, when 
 we came up to where we now are, thoroughly 
 drenched with three days' rain, and so tired 
 we could scarcely stand ; and yet we had to 
 wade through mud up to our knees that was 
 just like quicksand; it would pull off the 
 boots and shoes of the men, and some got 
 stuck, and had to throw away all their things 
 — knapsacks, blankets, ammunition, and every 
 thing — and then half a dozen men pull them 
 out. I tell you, the peojile of the North little 
 understand or appreciate the hardships and 
 sufferings of their defenders ; and they little 
 know the sleepless nights on pickets, the blis- 
 tered feet on the march, the wet clothes and 
 hungry stomachs of our brave soldiers ! God 
 grant that the war may soon be ended for the 
 good of our country and the haj^piness of our 
 people ! 
 
 Before this you probably have accounts of 
 the battles which haA^e been fought for five 
 successive days. "We fought them ; and I do 
 not hesitate to say that in those five days 
 more than twenty thousand men were killed 
 on both sides, putting our loss and the rebels 
 together. We have just been out in line to 
 
APPENDIX. 53 
 
 salute General McClellan, who passed down 
 the Imes. Good by ; love to all. From 
 
 GiLET. 
 
 Extract from a letter dated 
 
 Camp near James River, July 15, 1862. 
 
 O ! if I could sj^end a Sabbath evening 
 
 with you all, and sing those delightful hymns 
 we used to sing, and hear dear Dr. Bud- 
 ington preach one of his good sermons ! 
 Just think ! seven Sundays I have been away 
 from you, and never heard one sermon ! I 
 hope, however, next Sunday to find a chap- 
 lain somewhere in the army, who is going to 
 preach, and I assure you I shall go to hear 
 him. Good by ; God bless you all. 
 
 Your affectionate brother, Giles. 
 
 New-Bern, N, C, Headquarters Ninety-second ) 
 New- York State Volunteers, Jan. 6, 1863, ) 
 
 We left Suffolk on the morning of the fifth 
 December, in a drizzling rain, upon a secret 
 expedition, and marched twenty-three miles 
 by two o'clock p.m. — one of the finest marches 
 upon record. The next day, passing through 
 Gatesville, we reached the Chowan River, 
 where we embarked upon transports, which 
 
54 APPENDIX. 
 
 brought us to New-Bern on the Tuesday night 
 following. We disembarked Wednesday morn- 
 ing, and camped about one and a half miles 
 from New-Bern, on the Kinston Koad. 
 
 Thursday morning we started, and after 
 skirmishing Friday and Saturday, met the en- 
 emy in force on Sunday morning about nine 
 o'clock. 
 
 The Ninth New-Jersey were deployed in 
 front as skirmishers, throwing their line across 
 the road on both sides, in a dense swamp, up 
 to their middles in water, where they engaged 
 the enemy. 
 
 They fought about an hour, when the Vet- 
 eran Brigade of General Wessells was order- 
 ed up. The Ninth reporting their ammuni- 
 tion expended, the Ninety-second New - YorJc^ 
 Colonel Hunt., were ordered to relieve them, 
 vjJiich we did. 
 
 Finding that we must leave our horses. Col- 
 onel Hunt and myself dismounted, when just 
 as our feet touched the ground, a shell flew 
 by, killing a man just behind me, and then 
 bursting, carried away the top of our flag- 
 staff. If we had not dismounted just at that 
 moment, wp must, one of us, have been killed. 
 
 Sending our horses to the rear, we filed into 
 the woods, and relieved the Ninth New-Jersey, 
 
APPENDIX. 55 
 
 who immediately fell back, leaving the Ninety- 
 second, with two hundred and fifty men, to hold 
 the position which they had held, being one 
 thousand one hundred strong ; but we did it. 
 We were now hotly engaged with the enemy, 
 when some four of our companies on the left, 
 (being in more open ground,) under the com- 
 mand of Captains Merriman and Bice and 
 Lieutenant Babcock, charged the enemy with 
 the bayonet ; but they were met with a terrific 
 volley, which compelled them to retire to 
 their former position. 
 
 At this critical moment. Colonel Hunt or- 
 dered me to go to General Wessells and ask 
 for reenforcements ; and he (Colonel Hunt) 
 separated his right and. left wings, leaving 
 the middle perfectly open, where the enemy 
 were pouring in their hottest fire, thinking we 
 were there, as we were concealed from view 
 by the thick underbrush in the swamp. I 
 hurried back as fast as my weary legs would 
 carry me, covered with mud and dirt, and 
 soaking wet from my hips down. 
 
 On my way to the General, I found Major 
 Kennedy with two batteries of artillery firing 
 too far off to the right. He asked me for in- 
 formation, and I directed him where to aim tc 
 make his fire effective, and he did so. 
 
56 APPENDIX. 
 
 General TVessells gave me the Foi'ty-fifth 
 Regiment of Massachusetts Yohmteers for re- 
 enforcements; and I led them into the swamp 
 in the opening which I already mentioned 
 Colonel Hunt had made. I told the Colonel 
 of the Forty-fifth to reserve his fire, for fear 
 some of my own regiment were in his front ; 
 and we continued to advance silently, until 
 nearly across the swamp, when the enemy 
 opened on ns with a terrific volley, laying 
 several of the brave boys on their backs. I 
 then gave the order to fire, and we poured in 
 a volley that paid them back with interest. 
 After getting them pretty well into position, 
 I left them to find Colonel Hunt, whom I 
 found on the left ; anA by that time the en- 
 emy were retreating across the bridge, which 
 they set on fire ; but we followed them so 
 close as to extinguish the flames and cross 
 after them. 
 
 I had some narrow escapes, but, thank God, 
 escaped with a whole skin. 
 
 After fighting tliem at Whitehall and 
 Evartsville, we returned to New-Bern. 
 
APPENDIX. 57 
 
 New-Bern, N. C, March 16, 1863. 
 
 My Dear Father : In the mercy of God, 
 I have been spared through another fight. As 
 I told you before I left home, our regiment is 
 on the east side of the Neuse River, opposite 
 New-Bern, and alone, where they have built a 
 fort. Well, last Saturday, the anniversary of 
 the taking of New-Bern, about five o'clock in 
 the morning, our pickets sent in word that 
 the rebels were advancing with artillery. We 
 aroused the camp and got into line of battle, 
 three hundred and fifty strong ; and just then 
 the pickets commenced firing. Our pickets 
 shot from fifteen to twenty of them, and then 
 came into the fort. By that time the rebels 
 had planted two six-gun batteries of Parrott 
 guns, about eight hundred yards fi'om the fort, 
 and one battery on each flank, about one half 
 mile distant, making twenty-four guns in all ; 
 and we had not a piece of artillery in the fort. 
 
 General Pettigrew, who commanded the reb- 
 els, sent a captain of his staff with a flag of 
 truce, demanding a surrender, which was re- 
 fused, and we asked for half an hour, to send 
 across the river to ask General Foster if we 
 should surrender. It was only to gain time, 
 though, for him to send us reenforcements. It 
 was granted. 
 
68 APPENDIX. 
 
 At the expiration of the half-hour, our boat 
 not having returned, General Pettigrew sent 
 down word that he could give no longer time, 
 and again demanded a surrender. Our answer 
 was : " We will not surrender." He then open- 
 ed on us with eighteen pieces of artillery, set- 
 ting fire to our camp and riddling the tents 
 with balls, killing two horses, wounding three 
 men, and both my horses, one after the other. 
 
 They shelled us three hours at a terrific 
 rate. I was struck by a splinter in the leg, 
 just above the knee, but it did not break the 
 skin. 
 
 Our gunboats at last got the range of the 
 rebels, killing and wounding some fifty of 
 them ; and they then drew off for the night, 
 losing one piece of artillery, which was dis- 
 mounted. 
 
 General Foster then sent over the Eighty- 
 fifth New- York to our assistance ; but the fight 
 Avas over. The next morning I took a com- 
 pany out and skirmished through the woods 
 about three miles ; but they had retreated. 
 
 I must close now. God bless you all ! 
 
 From GiLiE. 
 
APPENDIX. 59 
 
 Headquarters Ninety-second New-York \ 
 State Volunteers, April '7, 1863. ) 
 
 I was mucli disappointed on the arrival of 
 a mail to-day, to receive no letters, but shall 
 expect several the next mail. 
 
 I believe I wrote that there had been some 
 fighting about twenty-five miles from here, 
 at Little Washington, North-Carolina. There 
 has been less firing to-day than on any day 
 for a week. 
 
 It is reported that the rebels are fifty thou- 
 sand strong, with eighty pieces of artillery, 
 and that they have got our troops into a 
 pretty tight place. General Foster is there, 
 and can't get away, for the rebels have sur- 
 rounded him and blockaded the river, so that 
 our gunboats can not get within six miles of 
 the place without a "right smart fight." 
 
 Our provision and ammunition-boats suc- 
 ceeded, however, in running the blockade the 
 other day ; and General Foster can now hold 
 out for a month, at the least calculation, and 
 in less than a week the rebels will have some- 
 thing in their rear. I could tell you more, 
 but military necessities will not permit ; but 
 if you should hear of a big fight, and a bril- 
 liant victory, donH he surprised. 
 
 The rebels got sold pretty well the other 
 
60 APPENDIX. 
 
 night by ns. Our pickets in the daytime 
 are thrown out about a mile ; but in the night 
 we draw them in to about one thousand yards 
 from the fort. Our extreme left-flank post, in 
 the day-time, is at a house called " Gascon's 
 house ;" but at night it is not within half 
 a mile of it. Well, the other night about 
 eleven o'clock, the rebels, about twenty 
 strong, crept through the woods to this 
 house, hoping to shoot some of our men ; and 
 when about a dozen yards from the house, 
 they fired a volley, and ran, supposing of 
 course that they had killed half a dozen or 
 so ; but the joke of it was, we had not a man 
 within half a mile of them. 
 
 You see by this the kind of men that Jeff 
 Davis employs — I don't mean to say all their 
 army are such; but their guerrillas are the 
 meanest, most despicable, cowardly murder- 
 ers — nothing more or less. 
 
 As I write, thousands of troops are landing 
 at our fort, bound for Little Washington. 
 God go with them ! 
 
APPENDIX. 61 
 
 Fort Anderson, May 10, 1863. 
 
 What is the feeling at home in regard to 
 the draft, and a vigorous prosecution of the 
 war? I do wish the people were more en- 
 thusiastic. If the Government allow them- 
 selves to be lulled into a feeling of security 
 by the reports of famine in the South, the 
 rebels will find means of supplying them- 
 selves for a vigorous fall campaign. But if, 
 on the contrary, we push forward and con- 
 stantly engage *the enemy wherever we meet 
 them, I believe we can dishearten them suf- 
 ficiently to cause a revolt among the people. 
 
 I know the truth of the reports of famine 
 among them ; day after day, men, women, and 
 children come to our lines to get into New- 
 Bern to buy bread, and beg to be allowed to 
 enter the lines ; the women weeping and the 
 children crying for food: but it can not be; 
 many of them are spies, and we can not sacri- 
 fice our cause to alleviate the sufierings of a 
 minority; but it can not last long. Those 
 men will not stand idly by and see their 
 wives, mothers, and children dying of hunger, 
 and their sons oftentimes taken by force from 
 their homes, to fill the ranks of the tyrant 
 government that has reduced them to these 
 sufferings. They will cry aloud for justice; 
 
62 APPENDIX. 
 
 and I believe a few victories on our part 
 would give spirit enough to the haters of 
 the rebel government to cause them to revolt 
 against it. Already several bread riots have 
 occurred in this State. Women, armed with 
 axes and knives, have gone to the govern- 
 ment store-houses in Wilmington and taken 
 flour by force. I have settled into an in- 
 veterate hatred of the North-Carolina rebels. 
 The cowardly manner in which they carry on 
 their guerrilla warfare — shooting our men 
 from behind trees, and in the swamps — makes 
 me despise them. 
 
 Headquarters Ninety-Second New-York ) 
 State Volunteers, June 28, 1863. ) 
 
 This is the evening of a beautiful quiet 
 Sabbath, upon which I have been thinking 
 often and much of home. My duties to-day 
 kept me in camp, and I have really enjoyed 
 the calmness and serenity of the day. 
 
 Tliis morning a mail arrived, bringing me a 
 number of papers, but no letters ; which is 
 accounted for, I suppose, by your having sent 
 them by Dr. M. 
 
 I wish.very much I could see all my dear 
 family this summer ; but it can not be. We 
 have sent a great number of our troops from 
 
APPENDIX. 63 
 
 here to the Peninsula, leaving us a mere 
 handful to defend the place, if attacked ; but 
 those left are men to be relied on. 
 
 Thank God that I belong to a regiment 
 universally acknowledged as " a fighting regi- 
 ment," not one struggling under the imputa- 
 tion of cowardice, afraid to give their lives to 
 their country, or to trust them with God. 
 
 I think that in this, the darkest hour of my 
 country's need, I love it better, reverence it 
 more than ever. One life seems little to ofier 
 to my country. 
 
 We have raised a fine flag-pole in our fort ; 
 and to-day the " Star-Spangled Banner " first 
 floated o'er our works. God grant no rebel 
 flag may ever usurp its place ! 
 
 I have a friend in the regiment whom I hope 
 one day to introduce to you. I am very much 
 attached to him, and I think he is to me. He 
 is not a Christian, but he is an honorable, up- 
 right man, and I hope one day to see him be- 
 come a true Christian. 
 
64 APPENDIX. 
 
 July 11, 1863. 
 
 Last night about ten o'clock, I received 
 your welcome letters and papers of the 
 seventh, with the news of our glorious victory 
 in Pennsylvania, and the surrender of Yicks- 
 burgh. You can have no idea of the enthusi- 
 asm of the troops at this news. From all I 
 can learn, the loss of life must have been 
 equal if not greater in Pennsylvania than in 
 any other series of battles during the war. 
 
 AYe are looking for a demonstration from 
 the rebels in this State soon. I think if driven 
 from Yirginia, the rebels will make North- 
 and South-Carolina the battle-ground ; if so, 
 " hurrah for active service !" I am heartily 
 tired of inactivity, and would give six 
 months' pay to be with the dear old army of 
 the Potomac. I expect if you could look in 
 upon us now, you would ask if these were the 
 hardships of war. We have nice, new, clean 
 tents, the camp laid out handsomely inside 
 of the fort, and every thing as comfortable as 
 could be. 
 
APPENDIX. 65 
 
 July 12, 1863. 
 
 This morning, after "guard-mounting" I 
 was walking toward my tent, to lay aside my 
 sword and sash, and happened to turn around 
 to speak to an officer, when pop ! pop ! pop ! 
 went the guns on the picket-line. 
 
 "We took no notice of the first two or three ; 
 but when they continued about as fast and 
 thick as popping corn, the order was given to 
 ^•''fall in P^ and man the guns and breast-works. 
 I heard the firing on the extreme picket-post, 
 on the left flank, and immediately surmised 
 that the rebels had either made a dash on that 
 post to capture it, or were driving in the 
 pickets to attack the forts. 
 
 I immediately went to the Colonel's quarters 
 (who is sick in bed) and asked him if I might 
 drop a few shells amongst them. He assented, 
 and I ordered the guns loaded, and gave them 
 a couple of thirty-two pound shell, Avhich burst 
 very near them, and they immediately "ske- 
 daddled " for the woods. We continued shell- 
 ing the woods for several minutes, and then 
 deployed skirmishers down to the front ; but 
 they had left, taking with them a sergeant, 
 corporal, and three men, who were on the out- 
 post ; also a young fellow, who lived in a 
 house right there, as a conscript. 
 
66 APPENDIX. 
 
 It did not amount to any fight at all ; and I 
 only speak of it to show how little one knows 
 of to-morrow. But I have permission to go 
 out to-morrow with a company of cavalry, and 
 I think we can " spot " some of them. 
 
 I hope the news from General Meade, and 
 the army of the Potomac continues as en- 
 couraging as the last we had. I am Aery much 
 of the opinion, that if driven from Virginia, 
 the State of North-Carolina will be made the 
 battle-ground by the rebels. I hope so. 
 
 July 19, 1863. 
 The news from New-York City is truly ap- 
 jDalling. I am very anxious, my darling mother, 
 to hear from you, whether there has been any 
 serious riot in Brooklyn, and whether the dis- 
 turbances haA^e reached your section of the 
 city. I hope and trust that our Government 
 will enforce the draft against all and every 
 opposition. Oh ! if our little brigade were 
 only in the city now, we would show those un- 
 godly men that those who have faced death an 
 hundred times were not to be intimidated by 
 a lawless mob, nor overwhelmed by any num- 
 bers that might be brought against them. I 
 wish I might have the privilege of helping to 
 
APPENDIX. 67 
 
 put down the riot ; but until the danger is more 
 pressing, I feel that my duty keeps me here. 
 
 I Avish you were all in S during these 
 
 troublous times. 
 
 We had divine services in camp to-day, and 
 quite a good attendance ; and I don't think I 
 ever had a sermon comfort me so much as this 
 one, from the text, " The Lord reigneth." 
 
 January 12, 1864. 
 
 Just to think, that in a month more, and it 
 will be a year since I have seen you, my darling 
 
 S . How many changes have taken place 
 
 in that year ! Often at night in my room I sit 
 and conjure up before me the forms of those I 
 love so dearly ; and I love to think they have 
 not changed since last I saw them. How I 
 long to come home and see you all ! I can 
 hardly wait ; but duty bids me do so, and I 
 sui3pose I must. 
 
 Do you remember my telling you last winter 
 that I had bought a horse for you ? Well, I 
 have him still, and he is acknowledged by 
 every body to be the most beautiful horse in 
 the department, as well as the best. I can 
 jump a six-rail fence with him as easily as 
 most horses would jump four; and I have 
 jumped him over a road that was blockaded 
 
68 APPENDIX. 
 
 by the rebels for a quarter of a mile by felling 
 large trees across it where it passed through a 
 swamp. 
 
 On an expedition a few weeks since, I led a 
 troop of cavalry over such a place where al- 
 most every horse in the troop was thrown, and 
 some of the men badly hurt, while " Whea- 
 ton," as I call him, went over it like a squirrel. 
 He is a perfect beauty, and if I keep him until 
 the war is over, I think he will be the pride of 
 the family ; he has been wounded twice, but I 
 think all the more of him for it. 
 
 Headquarters, New-Bern, ) 
 April 21, 1864. ] 
 
 My plans, as regards coming home the 
 last of this month, are broken up again. 
 
 Three days ago the enemy attacked Ply- 
 mouth, N'orth-Carolina, and by this time it is 
 probably in their hands. 
 
 An iron-clad ram sunk one of our largest 
 and best gun-boats, steamed past our forts 
 without firing a shot, and quietly anchored 
 below the town of Plymouth, without having 
 showed a man or a gun. 
 
 A hundred-pound Parrot-shell, fired at from 
 twelve to fifteen feet from her, made no im- 
 pression ; and a nine-inch Dahlgren shell, fired 
 
APPENDIX. 60 
 
 at the same distance, was broken to pieces 
 against her sides, and four of the pieces *re- 
 bounded, killing Captain Flusser, of the gun- 
 boat Miami, one of the most brilliant and 
 daring officers of our navy. 
 
 General Wessells, our old brigade comman- 
 der, was in command at Plymouth, and al- 
 though nothing definite is known, I am afraid 
 the poor old man is on his way to Richmond. 
 
 We shall probably have it thick and heavy 
 here in the course of a few days, but feel confi- 
 dent of our ability to withstand a very deter- 
 mined attack. Further news I can not give 
 you, as this is all that can be divulged at 
 present. 
 
 God bless you all, is the sincere prayer of 
 yours, Giles. 
 
 May 10, 1864. 
 
 Last Wednesday night, about dark. Colonel 
 Savage, commanding our cavalry out-posts, 
 telegraphed that he was attacked at Deep 
 Gully, (ten miles from here,) and driven to 
 Rocky Run, (two miles nearer). 
 
 About ten o'clock the General ordered me 
 to take an orderly and ride out to Rocky Run 
 and remain with Colonel Savage, and if the 
 enemy did not attack us at daylight, that we 
 
^0 'appendix. 
 
 should attack them. I did so, and at daylight 
 Ave attacked them Avith four squadrons of 
 caA'alry and two pieces of artillery ; but they 
 Avere too strong for us. We fought them until 
 ten o'clock, Avhen Ave retired to Kocky Run, 
 and I rode to New-Bern to rej)ort to the Gen- 
 eral. At twelve o'clock that day the General 
 ordered me to take the " Monitor," an iron- 
 clad car which we have here, and Avhich is 
 musket-proof, and carries two pieces of ar- 
 tillery, and to attack the enemy on the railroad, 
 which I did. They replied to me at one 
 o'clock with six pieces of artillery, but I 
 silenced their battery four times. At four 
 o'clock, two gun-boats Avere sent by General 
 Palmer down the river to assist me — he seeing 
 that I was having a pretty hard time — and in 
 about an hour after we had completely silenced 
 them. About five o'clock I fell back on ^N'cav- 
 Bern, having fired two hundred and fifty 
 rounds of shell, exhausting all my ammunition. 
 That night I allowed my men to rest, and the 
 next morning ran down to the edge of the 
 woods to open on the enemy again ; but they 
 sent in a "flag of truce," asking a personal 
 conference Avith General Palmer, which he re- 
 fused them, and authorized me to receiA^e their 
 
APPENDIX. Vl 
 
 compiimication, wliicli was a demand for the 
 surrender of New-Bern. 
 
 Major Read, of the rebel artillery, delivered 
 the message to me, and I laughed in his face. 
 I could not help it. I delivered the message 
 to General Palmer, who gave me my instruc- 
 tions, and I then Avent back to the Major and 
 told him that General Palmer desired me to 
 say to him that he considered his demand a 
 mere " ruse de guerre,^'' and hardly worth an 
 answer ; but if he wanted New-Bern he must 
 come and take it ; and that he could have 
 thirty minutes to get back to his lines before 
 Lieutenant Ward opened on him with the 
 *' Monitor." I then saluted the Major, and got 
 on my horse, saying to him as I turned to go 
 away : " I hope we shall meet this afternoon, 
 Major." He replied that, "he didn't think 
 we would." In half an hour I opened upon 
 them with my guns, shelling the woods as I 
 ran down, and getting to where their battery 
 was posted the day before, I found they had 
 left. 
 
72 APPENDIX. 
 
 New-Bern, August 2, 1864. 
 I returned day before yesterday from an 
 expedition up the Chowan River, (not the 
 one I wrote you about ; that has been post- 
 poned for the present,) on which I was quite 
 successful. A week ago to-day the General 
 called me down to his house, and pointed out 
 to me on the map where I was to go. I 
 started that night with the steamer Massas- 
 soit, sixty-five men and two guns; went to 
 Roanoke Island, and from there to the mouth 
 of the Roanoke River, about seven miles from 
 the rebel ram. Captain Macomb, of the 
 navy, placed the gunboat Whitehead under 
 my orders. The Thomas Collier reported to 
 me from New-Bern. I then started up the 
 Chowan River, stopped at Winton, where I 
 captured a quantity of cotton and tobacco, 
 burnt a large amount of commissary stores, 
 and then started up the river to Manning's 
 Ferry, at the head of the Chowan, to draw 
 the enemy's batteries up the river. I then 
 turned right round, came down to Gale's 
 Ferry, landed with twenty men, started up 
 the road to Gatesville, where I captured the 
 rebel steamer Arrow, (which they captured 
 from us last year on the canal,) put a detach- 
 ment on board of her with a pilot, (also ten 
 
APPENDIX. 73 
 
 bales of cotton which she had landed there,) 
 and sent her down the creek, capturing her 
 picket-boat as she came down. I then went 
 to Coleraine, where I captured a large quantity 
 of cotton and tobacco — which, by the way, I 
 had pretty hard work to get down to my 
 boats, as I had to catch the horses, find 
 wagons, make harness of ropes, and impress 
 '' contrabands " to drive them ; and when I 
 got the bales and boxes to the river, I had 
 six men pick uj) a bale and wade in up to 
 their waists, load a launch, shove it off to the 
 steamers, unload it, and go back for more. 
 The enemy made their appearance first at 
 Winton, which place they shelled about two 
 hours ; they then came down to Coleraine and 
 commenced driving my pickets in just as I 
 got the last bale of cotton on board. I 
 hauled out into the stream, said " Good even- 
 ing !" to them, and left. But the best thing 
 of all was, the ram dared not come out of the 
 HoarioJce River and chase us. 
 
 By looking at the map you will see that by 
 coming about ten miles from Plymouth she 
 could have blockaded us in the ChoAvan. 
 
 If she had done so, I should I have run into 
 her with the Thomas Collier, and something 
 would have gone down. 
 
74 APPENDIX. 
 
 On the expedition I got about one hundred 
 thousand dollars' worth of cotton ; about 
 twenty thousand dollars' worth of tobacco ; 
 and miscellaneous stuff, such as leather, 
 bacon, etc., to the amount of ten thousand 
 dollars. I don't know the value of the Ar- 
 row. 
 
 Plymouth, N. C, January 6, 1865. 
 
 At last I have arrived at the height of my 
 ambition, the command of a troop of cavalry, 
 and I have proved what I always believed, 
 that I could whip two rebels to one. 
 
 I was sent on the thirtieth of last month in 
 command of an expedition, consisting of two 
 companies of infantry, one piece of artillery, 
 and my own troops, in the direction of Wil- 
 liamston to develop the enemy's strength and 
 position. I built a bridge at Jamesville, left 
 my infantry and artillery there to hold it until 
 my return, and pushed on with my cavalry, 
 (about forty men,) at three o'clock in the 
 morning,' toward Williamston. A large and 
 deep creek run^ down to the Roanoke River, 
 about two miles this side of the town, and 
 about three miles this side of the creek the 
 road forks — one fork leading to Leggett's 
 Bridge, and the other to Foster's Mills. 
 
APPENDIX. 75 
 
 I took the right-hand fork to the bridge, 
 and found it burnt ; I then marched back at a 
 trot, intending to take the other road; but 
 when I got to the forks I found the rebels, 
 about two hundred strong, in line of battle 
 across the road. Well, there was only one 
 thing to be done, and I gave the order to 
 " charge with pistols," and we dashed through 
 them like the wind. "When I got through, 
 *' my blood was up," and I gave the order to 
 " wheel about and charge again," which we 
 did, scattering them into the woods. 
 
 I picked out the nearest man, rode him 
 down, mounted him behind one of my men, 
 and started for home at a trot. We got safe- 
 ly back with the loss of one horse shot. 
 
 I am very well indeed, and hope to see 
 some active service this winter ; and if my 
 life is spared, will come home as soon as it is 
 over to make you a short visit. 
 
 Good by, my darling mother; God bless 
 you, is the prayer of your loving soil, 
 
 GiLIE. 
 
76 APPENDIX. 
 
 B. 
 
 The sad event was announced to the family 
 by the following letters of Colonel Frankle 
 and General Palmer : 
 
 CoLERAiNE, N. C, January 29, 1865. 
 Brigadier- General I. JSF. Palmer : 
 
 General: It becomes my j^ainful duty to 
 inform you of the death of Lieutenant G. F. 
 Ward, Twelfth New- York Cavalry. 
 
 His troop, under command of Captain Horn, 
 of the same regiment, had halted at the house 
 of Mr. Stevenson, six miles from Coleraine, 
 previous to engaging the enemy, a few miles 
 distant. While there, the sad accident oc- 
 curred. 
 
 Lieutenant Ward was almost instantly 
 killed by the accidental charge of a pistol 
 in the hands of Captain Horn. The ball 
 must havie passed through his heart, as he 
 did not speak afterward. 
 
 I was not present at the time, but arrived 
 a short time afterward, learning the facts 
 from Lieutenant Turner, who was present, 
 and who will give you further particulars. 
 
 I will not attempt to express my feelings 
 
AVPENDIX. 11 
 
 in view of this melancholy event. He was 
 brave and generous, beloved by his fellow- 
 officers. eTust in the bloom of manhood, 
 he was developing a character which would 
 have made him an illustrious ornament to his 
 profession, as well as the social circle in which 
 he moved. 
 
 His moral courage added grace to his valor 
 as a soldier ; and when we think of all his 
 noble qualities, we wonder why death should 
 mark him so soon. 
 
 But I can scarcely imagine the painful feel- 
 mgs that will move you, sir, on receiving this 
 sad intelligence. You have known him longer 
 and better than I, and the relations between 
 you and our lamented friend, I am aware, 
 were of no common kind. 
 
 I can not do more than tender the deepest 
 sympathy for yourself and his many friends in 
 this department, as well as for his afflicted re- 
 latives at home. 
 
 My deep grief must be my only apology for 
 addressing a superior in this unofficial way. 
 
 I will add, that Captain Horn is suffering 
 the most severe mental torture, and deserves 
 the heartiest sympathy and consolation from 
 all his friends. 
 
78 APPENDIX. 
 
 Captain Bradley will report to you in charge 
 of the remains and effects of the deceased. 
 
 I am, General, very respectfully, your obedi- 
 ent servant, Jones Feankle, 
 Colonel Second Massachusetts Artillery. 
 
 Xew-Bern, N. C, February 1, 1865. 
 
 My dear Mr. Ward : We are overwhelmed 
 with grief at the sad news contained in the 
 inclosed letter. I hope the terrible news has 
 been broken to you before this will reach you. 
 I ccm not write now, but I w^ill do so in a day 
 or two. I wish you could come down here to 
 see me. I can only now say that every thing 
 that kind affectionate hearts could do has 
 been done in this sad time. I send an officer 
 home with the remains. May God give you 
 all strength to bear u]) under this terrible 
 crushing blow. Ever sincerely, 
 
 I. N. Palmer. 
 
 Mr. Giles F. Ward, Brooklyn. 
 
APPENDIX. 79 
 
 c. 
 
 Among the tributes rendered to his memory 
 are the following. The first is a record of the 
 resolutions passed by the officers of his regi- 
 ment; the second met the eye of his family 
 only in the pages of the Brooklyn Union ; the 
 third appeared in the New- York Observer. 
 Major Benjamin, from whose letter the first 
 extract is taken, was the teacher of Giles in 
 the Military Academy at Sing Sing : 
 
 At a meeting of the field, staff, and line 
 officers of the Twelfth New- York Volunteer 
 Ca^'=akyrh-el'd at " Camp Palmer," out-posts, 
 New-Bern, N. C, on the evening of February 
 fifth, 1865, Major R. M. Taylor was chosen 
 Chairman, and First Lieutenant A. J. Pierson, 
 Secretary. The following preamble and reso- 
 lutions were then read and unanimously adopt- 
 ed : 
 
 WJiereas^ It has pleased the Almighty God, 
 in His all-wise providence, to take from us 
 our beloved brother officer. First Lieutenant 
 Giles F. "Ward, Jr., Company L, Twelfth 
 New -York Volunteer Cavalry, (and late 
 A. D. C. to Briojadier-General L N. Palmer, 
 
80 APPENDIX. 
 
 Commanding District of N'orth - Carolina,) 
 while in the discharge of his duty on a 
 scout near Coleraine, North - Carolina, on 
 the twenty-eighth day of January, 1865 ; 
 
 Mesolvecl, That, although Lieutenant Ward 
 had been with us but a short time, he had 
 endeared himself to us by his kind disposi- 
 tion, unflinching courage, and soldierly de- 
 portment. 
 
 Resolved^ That in the death of our deceased 
 brother-officer, the service of the State of 
 New-York has lost one of its bravest officers, 
 and our reo-iment one of its brio-htest orna- 
 ments. 
 
 Resolved^ That we deeply sympathize with 
 his family and friends in this their sad be- 
 reavement, who are left to mourn the loss 
 of an affectionate son and brother, trusting 
 that God, in His infinite mercy, will grant 
 them strength to bear their sad affliction. 
 
 Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions 
 be forwarded to the family of the deceased. 
 
 R. M. Taylor, Chairman, 
 
 Major Twelfth New- York Volunteer Cavalry. 
 John S. Lorc, Captain Twelfth New-York Cavalry, 
 Joseph jM. Fish, Captain Twelfth New-York Cavalry, 
 R. J. H. RrssELL, First Lieutenant Twelfth New-York Cavalry, 
 A. J. PiERSON, Secretary, 
 
 First Lieutenant Twelfth New-York Cavalry. 
 
APPENDIX. 81 
 
 To the Editor of the Union : 
 
 It may be a satisfaction for those who were 
 acquainted with Lieutenant Giles Ward, Jr., 
 of this city, who was recently killed by the 
 accidental discharge of a loaded pistol, to 
 know that he died among friends, who fully 
 appreciated all his noble and ennobling quali- 
 ties of head and heart. I send you the post- 
 script from a private letter received from Dr. 
 J. W. Page, Director of the Sanitary Commis- 
 sion at New-Bern, North-Carolina, dated Janu- 
 ary thirtieth, 1S65 ; the postscript dated Mon- 
 day, ten P.M. 
 
 " The body of a young friend. Lieutenant 
 Giles Ward, Jr., has just arrived from Ply 
 mouth. He was accidentally killed at a house 
 on the Chowan by the imprudent handling of 
 a loaded pistol. He was a manly fellow and 
 gallant soldier. We have not in the service a 
 more self-possessed yet dashing cavalry offi- 
 cer. I was with him a great deal in our re- 
 cuperating excursions after we got up and 
 were convalescent from the yellow-fever. His 
 character was strongly marked with points of 
 great merit and high promise. I have time 
 and again rigidly tested his qualities of mind 
 and heart, and invariably with a result com- 
 pelling my admiration. He was as gentle in 
 
82 APPENDIX. 
 
 society as he was resolute in action. He had 
 the cast of features and expression of coun- 
 tenance which favored my idea of Washing- 
 ton in his youth, and which made me the 
 more curious to study his manners and ac- 
 tions. He was our boldest and most sagaci- 
 ous scout, and while on the General's staff 
 conducted successfully the most hazardous 
 reconnoissances, bearding the enemy in his 
 strongest positions, and bringing off his men 
 unscathed. Once I remember his favorite 
 gray gelding received three bullet-wounds 
 in the neck, but brought his rider off safe. 
 
 Young Ward was a great favorite in the 
 General's family, and his untimely death has 
 filled them with grief. The General has just 
 left my room, and seems much depressed at 
 the loss of his friend and brave young Aid- 
 de-camp." 
 
 From the New-York Observer. 
 LIEUTENANT GILES F. WARD, JE. 
 
 Died, near Coleraine, N". C, January twen- 
 ty-eighth, Lieutenant Giles F. Ward, Jr., of 
 Brooklyn, K Y. 
 
 He had been nearly three years in the mili- 
 tary service of his country, and, alike from 
 
APPENDIX. 83 
 
 the ardor of his temperament and his adapta- 
 tion to scouting enterprises, had been exposed 
 to dangers innumerable and incredible, but 
 died at length by accident, receiving the con- 
 tents of a pistol in the hands of a brother- 
 officer. Had he lived he would have been 
 twenty years old on the twenty-second day of 
 February ; and yet this mere boy in years lived 
 long enough to mature a character which, 
 for manly qualities and Christian ]3i'omise, has 
 perhaps never been exceeded in the long list 
 of heroic and brilliant youth who have yielded 
 up their lives for their country in this civil 
 war, and bequeathed to their countrymen an 
 inspiration which shall breathe in their hearts 
 through all the future of American history. 
 He had received a military education, and en- 
 tered the army from a sense of duty, alike 
 Christian and patriotic ; and when the term 
 expired for which he had enlisted in the Nine- 
 ty-second Regiment New- York Volunteers, he 
 reenlisted in the Twelfth New- York Cavalry, 
 and this without returning home, saying that 
 while any fighting remained to be done he 
 could not leave the field. He had just made a 
 profession of religion, having united with the 
 church with which his parents were connected — 
 the Clinton Avenue Congregational Church — 
 
84 APPENDIX. 
 
 aDcl joined tlie command under General Casey, 
 reaching the front just before the battle of Fair 
 Oaks ; but he was soon afterward transferred 
 to the Department of North-Carolina, where 
 he continued to serve till his death with grow- 
 ing zeal and unfolding ca])acities. The many- 
 graces of his person, his sweet disposition and 
 noble aspirations won for him the love and ad- 
 miration of his General, upon whose staff he 
 served for a year and a half; and he enjoyed 
 to an equal extent the warm regards of his 
 fellow-officers. 
 
 Descended from an officer of Revolutionary 
 fame, he took naturally to all soldierly quali- 
 ties. Prompt at the call of duty, tireless in 
 its execution, brave because devoid of the 
 sense of fear, running hazards in which his 
 preservation seems miraculous, feeling while in 
 the discharge of duty utterly unterrified by 
 the closest proximity to death, he was as 
 modest as he was courageous, and it needed 
 death to reveal not only how dear he was, but 
 lohat he was, and what he had done! He lies 
 in an early grave — the best hopes of his par- 
 ents, for he was an only son, buried with 
 him ; but he has done his country service of 
 which any soldier might be proud, and has left 
 behind him an example which will live in the 
 
APPENDIX. 85 
 
 hearts of his comrades and bear fruit in them 
 through after years. 
 
 Extract of a letter from Major Benjamin ; 
 
 May 15, 1865. 
 
 Giles was a boy not to be forgotten. That 
 winning and peculiar smile that seldom left 
 his countenance ; that cheerful and generous 
 disposition ; and that honest, manly deport- 
 ment, must always claim our admiration, and 
 long retain a place among our pleasant mem- 
 ories. 
 
 During the six years he was with me, he 
 passed through the several grades of the mili- 
 tary department, until he ranked as senior 
 captain ; and in the literary course his prog- 
 ress was highly commendable, especially in 
 the department of language. His appreciation 
 of the power and beauty of words, and the 
 facility with which he arrived at a neat and 
 impressive construction, evidenced a mind ma- 
 tured beyond his years. 
 
 But it was with certain points in his moral 
 character that we were peculiarly struck — his 
 self-control and his genial temperament. 
 
 In his amusements, Giles was fond of ad- 
 venture, but required that it should be legiti- 
 
86 APPENDIX. 
 
 mate, and devoid of harm to others ; coarse 
 and vulgar sports, and mischievous tricks he 
 never countenanced ; and in whatever he en- 
 gaged, be it study or play, he was so constant- 
 ly cheerful, so ready to oblige, so frank and 
 truthful, that his companionship was always 
 sought for with avidity; and he left the Acad- 
 emy at the close of six years' study, I may 
 safely say, beloved by every one who met him 
 there. 
 
 If called upon to sum up in a single sentence 
 my estimate of Giles, I should say that he was 
 one of the most genial, kind-hearted, affection- 
 ate, companionable, and peculiarly interesting 
 boys I have ever met. One could but feel 
 happier and holier while in the presence of his 
 bright, cheerful spirit. 
 
 Extract of a letter from a brother-officer : 
 
 April 8, 1865. 
 
 I do not believe that Giles Ward ever violat- 
 ed the fifth commandment. 
 
 He used to speak of his home friends of- 
 tener and with more warmth of affection than 
 any young man I ever knew. And those 
 friends have lost him ! No ! a thousand times 
 no ! He is not lost, but gone before. He has 
 
APPENDIX. 87 
 
 anticipated these earthly friends by a few short 
 months, and happily awaits the fulfillment of 
 the desire Ave used to express together : 
 
 "Up to that world of light, take us, dear Saviour: 
 
 May we all there unite, happy forever : 
 Where kindred spirits dwell, there may our music swell, 
 
 And time our joys dispel — never ! no never !" 
 
 May that union consist of all who, having 
 loved, now mourn this Christian hero ! 
 
 KiNSTON, N. C, March 19, 1865. 
 My Dear Madam : I can not suppose that 
 a letter from me on the subject which will 
 alioays be nearest your heart, will be con- 
 sidered an intrusion ; and so because, on this 
 lovely Sabbath afternoon, my own grief has 
 come afresh upon me, and I feel alone and 
 desolate, I have dared to think of talking a 
 few moments with the mother of my poor 
 Giles. I am sure, my dear madam, that you 
 need no consolation from me in this over- 
 whelming affliction, and I -only address you as 
 being a partner, and therefore sympathizer, in 
 your sorrow. I offer you no testimonials as to 
 the character and reputation of your lost son. 
 There is but one sentiment on that point 
 among his army friends ; and what that is, 
 
88 APPENDIX. 
 
 you already know from those you have seen 
 of late, as well as by the reports which Mr. 
 Ward has brought you from New-Bern. And 
 yet I think Giles was only known really and 
 intimately by a few. Every body knew he 
 was gallant, gentlemanly, and of good habits ; 
 but the sweeter manifestations of a pure, 
 noble, Christian soul are what will keep his 
 memory fresh and precious for those who 
 were fortunatQ enough to be admitted into 
 the inner circle of his friends. It will ever 
 be my pride, and I hope it may be to my 
 profit, that he received and acknowledged me 
 as his dear friend. I almost feel that during 
 the last year of his life I knew as much of 
 him as any of his own relations. It must be 
 so, for we were always together, while the only 
 intercourse which his much beloved mother 
 could have with him was by letter. How 
 thankful I am that I knew him so well, and 
 have lived to tell you that your prayers for 
 his deliverance from evil were signally an- 
 swered, and that your darling boy died as 
 pure and spotless as when you sent him forth, 
 reluctantly, but with your blessing, to battle 
 for his country and the right. 
 
 He was a daring and successful soldier; but 
 his' hardest conflict and most brilliant vie- 
 
 ♦iP 
 
APPENDIX. 89 
 
 torics were on moral battle-fields. His was 
 a short campaign, but it accomplished very 
 much. He has set a mark, high and dazzling, 
 for his comrades to reach. He has fought 
 the good fight, and rests from his labors. We 
 miss and mourn him beyond expression ; but 
 there is a light bright enough to penetrate our 
 tears, and reveal to us a happy, satisfied spirit. 
 By this light I see him every hour of every 
 day. Not a doubt troubles me, and though I 
 must weep, I thank God for the quiet heaven 
 He prepares for His children, and to which I 
 Jcnoio He has taken my dear brother. How 
 glorious to have had such a son, brother, 
 friend ! 
 
 I find that I must bring to an abrupt close a 
 letter which is not what I would have had it, 
 but which, such as it is, I could continue in- 
 definitely, with the greatest pleasure. This is 
 ray favorite subject ; but the duties incident to 
 an active campaign require that I should de- 
 prive myself of the pleasure of dwelling longer 
 upon it now. If you will allow me to do so, I 
 will indulge myself again some time ; for the 
 family and friends of my Giles "Ward will al- 
 ways have the respect and love of his friend. 
 
90 APPENDIX. 
 
 Extract of a letter from Dr. Page : 
 
 April 5, 1865. 
 
 The scenes at the front, the brilliant move- 
 ments of the Twelfth New- York Cavalry, etc., 
 all lead me often to refer to the memory of 
 yom' noble son, and I almost tremble at times 
 at the danger in ordinary life of wrongly esti- 
 matingj such a character. The knowledo-e w^e 
 gain by consenting to stop and reflect on his 
 qualities, after we know he has left us forever, 
 would be invaluable to both, Avere it possible 
 to attain it, when the subject of the reflection 
 is living. 
 
 It is useless for me to write to you of your 
 son. As the memory of minor events and 
 transient scenes, associated with your son's life 
 here, fades away, he stands forth more promi- 
 nent, and in proportions which make him more 
 and more the subject of thought and grateful 
 reflection. The beauty of his character almost 
 compensates for the brevity of his career. 
 
 I sympathize with you, my dear sir, in your 
 bereavement ; but I know the longer you live 
 the more satisfied you will become with the 
 developments of his character, and the more 
 reconciled to the shortness of his career. 
 
 Very respectfully, etc. 
 
APPENDIX. 91 
 
 Foster United States General Hospital, ) 
 New-Bern, N. C, May 16, 1865. ] 
 
 I became acquainted with Lieutenant Ward 
 immediately after his arrival in this place. 
 
 I met him at General Palmer's headquar- 
 ters, and Avas introduced to him. From that 
 moment I always admired him ; not more for 
 his very agreeable deportment than for his 
 unbending religious and moral character. 
 
 He desired to place himself under my pas- 
 toral care, as I was then officiating by order of 
 the Commanding General, in Christ Church ; 
 and this desire was prompted, as I suppose, 
 not on account of any particular preference for 
 me or my services, but on account of his con- 
 nection with General Palmer and his family, 
 and by whom young Ward was highly esteem- 
 ed. He was then acting under the aj^point- 
 ment of Aid-de-Camp to the General. 
 
 After this I saAv him quite often. He was 
 regular and punctual in attendance at church, 
 and always seemed very devout and attentive. 
 He frequently called at my quarters, and spent 
 an hour or so of an evening, and the theme of 
 conversation was invariably that of religion 
 and its kindred topics. 
 
 Our acquaintance and friendship) continued 
 to the Gttid of his brief life — a life, in human 
 
92 APPENDIX. 
 
 judgment, altogether too brief for his coun- 
 try and his many friends. But it affords great 
 comfort to me to believe that his work was 
 well done, and that he has entered upon his 
 reward. 
 
 Desiring to be affectionately remembered to 
 the family of the late Lieutenant "Ward, I re- 
 main yours very sincerely, 
 
 J. Hill Kouse, 
 Chaplain United States Army. 
 
 In his wallet, found upon his person at the 
 time of his death, were the following pieces of 
 poetry, which seem to have struck his fancy, 
 and which he had cut out of some newspapers : 
 
 In the Yan. 
 
 " Oh ! as he lived he died : 
 
 His Ufe burned not to ashes, white with doubt ; 
 But flaring up, witli battle's breath went out ; 
 His young blood pulsing years, in a wild rout, 
 Then halting at high tide. 
 
 " In the loud trumpet blast — 
 
 In the grand rush of lifted banners met, 
 With his cheeks flushing and his sabre wet, 
 His young eyes flashing and his young lips set, 
 So his rich spirit passed. 
 
APPENDIX. 93 
 
 " Just when the fight was won — 
 
 When the clouds broke from off the hard-won height, 
 And the pierced flag leaped out upon our sight, 
 In victory upspringing from the fight, 
 His brave young soul went on." 
 
 The Trooper to his Mare. 
 " Old girl, thou hast borne me far and fast, 
 On prancing hoofs, that were never loth ; 
 Our gallop to-day may be the last 
 
 For thee or for me, or perchance for both ! 
 As I tighten your girth do you nothing daunt ? 
 Do you catch the hint of our forming line ? 
 And now the artillery move to the front ! 
 
 Have you never a qualm. Bay Bess of mine ? 
 
 *' It is dainty to see you sidle and start 
 
 As you move to the battle's cloudy marge. 
 And to feel the swells of your wakening heart 
 
 When our sonorous bugles sound a charge ; 
 At the scream of the shell and the roll of the drum, 
 
 You feign to be frightened with roguish glance ; 
 But up the green slopes where the bullets hum, 
 
 Coquettishly, darling, I've known you dance. 
 
 " Your skin is satin, yo«r nostrils red. 
 
 Your eyes are a bird's or a loving girl's ; 
 And from delicate fetlock to stately head 
 
 A throbbing vein-cordage around you curls. 
 joy of my heart ! if you they slay, 
 
 For triumph or rout I little care ; 
 For there isn't in all the wide valley to-day 
 
 Such a dear little bridle-wise, thorough-bred mare.'* 
 
94 APPENDIX. 
 
 ID. 
 
 Besides the military funeral at N'ew-Bern, a 
 service was held in the Clinton Avenue Con- 
 gregational Church, Brooklyn, where the fam- 
 ily resided ; and on the following day, the last 
 public honors to his remains were paid in the 
 Congregational Church of Saybrook, Connec- 
 ticut. An eye-witness describes the last scene 
 as follows : 
 
 " At the entrance of the church, flags were 
 heavily draped with black, and throughout the 
 town were at half-mast — mute testimonials to 
 the general sadness. The young officers who 
 had borne him from New-Bern festooned the 
 flag above him with camellias, and Avith frater- 
 nal love assisted in the last arrangements. 
 
 "The orderly who h.-t^ served the young 
 Lieutenant through many months of army life, 
 and Avho had kept faithful vigils day and night 
 during that sad week, still clung to the lifeless 
 form. 
 
 *' At twelve o'clock the church was filled with 
 
APPENDIX. 95 
 
 sympathizing friends, who crowded in to take 
 the last look at one so tenderly loved. 
 
 " A profusion of the rarest flowers encircled 
 his head and breast ; and so life-like were his 
 beautiful features in their deep sleep, that 
 those who had known and loved him in child- 
 hood, watching his bright career with admir- 
 ing pride, now lingered by the " tenement of 
 clay " with a clinging fondness which told how 
 deep was their sorrow. 
 
 '' At one o'clock the services commenced with 
 the reading of the Scriptures by the pastor. 
 Rev. S. McCall, followed by appropriate re- 
 marks of fervent sympathy. The following 
 hymn w^as then sung : 
 
 Who shall weep when the righteous die ? 
 
 Who shall mourn when the good depart ? 
 When the soul of the godly away shall fly, 
 Who shall lay the loss at heart ? 
 He has gone into peace — 
 He has laid him down 
 To sleep— till the dawn of a brighter day ; 
 And he shall waJce on that holy morn 
 When sorrow and sighing shall flee away 
 
96 APPENDIX. 
 
 " The Rev. E. B. Crane then spoke in most 
 affectmg terms of the lofty character of this 
 young Christian soldier, earnestly exhorting 
 the yomig men joresent to imitate his noble 
 example. Prayer followed. The choir then 
 sung with touching sweetness the following 
 Lament, 
 This place is holy ground : 
 
 World, with its cares, away ! 
 A holy, solemn stillness round 
 
 This lifeless, mouldering clay — 
 Nor pain, nor grief, nor anxious fear 
 Can reach the peaceful sleeper here. 
 
 Behold the bed of death — 
 
 The pale and mortal clay ! 
 Heard ye the sob of parting breath ? 
 
 Marked ye the eye's last ray ? 
 No ! life so sweetly ceased to be, 
 It lapsed in immortality. 
 
 Why mourn the pious dead ? 
 • Why sorrows swell our eyes ? 
 Can sighs recall the spirit fleet ? 
 
 Shall vain regrets arise ? 
 Though death has caused this altered mien, 
 In heaven the ransomed soid is seen. 
 
 "But his was scarce an 'altered mien.' 
 Death added strange beauty to his polished 
 brow, lovely in death as in life. 
 
APPENDIX. 97 
 
 " Amid tears and sobs, the Inst fond look was 
 taken, and the mournful 'procession bore liim 
 to his last resting-place — on, past the home of 
 his boyhood, where his coming had ever been 
 the harbinger of joy and gladness — but where 
 the drooping flag now told of sorrow ; on to 
 the ancient cemetery — ground consecrated by 
 the honored dead, the forefathers of the colo- 
 ny, and the resling-place of his paternal ances- 
 try. There the youthful hero was laid gently 
 doAvn ; tender and solemn words were spoken ; 
 a young army friend scattered sweet violets 
 upon the lifeless form, and it was lowered to 
 its final rest — ' till the trumpet shall sound.' " 
 
98 APPENDIX. 
 
 On the Death of Giles F. Ward, Jr. 
 
 We linger near the hallowed ground. 
 And stand beside the peaceful mound 
 
 Where sleeps the brave : 
 How dear the spot, how calm the scene, 
 Where the soft turf grows fresh and green 
 
 Above his grave ! 
 
 Oh ! for one sound of tones now still ! 
 One smile from those sweet lips that will 
 
 Not smile again ; 
 Oh ! for one glance from those pure eyes ! 
 Ah ! the unbidden wishes rise, 
 
 But rise in vain. 
 
 In vain, in vain ! the eyes whose flash 
 Was brightest in the battle's crash 
 
 Are quenched of light ; 
 The hand that waved the sabre-blade 
 When the mad-rushing charge was made 
 
 Is still and white. 
 
 For him no bugle-call shall sound 
 The summons to the battle-ground — 
 
 No cannon roar : 
 Sheathe his good sword — his work is wrought, 
 The peril past, the " good fight " fought. 
 
 The crown in store. 
 
 His pure and gentle life is done ; 
 Like music only just begun — 
 A short, sweet song ; 
 
APPENDIX. 99 
 
 . But ah ! the memory remains, 
 And in our hearts its perfect strains 
 Will echo long. 
 
 Beside the sea he loved so well, 
 Lulled by the soothing ocean's swell, 
 
 He sleeping lies ; 
 There leave him to his happy rest, 
 Where not a grief can stir his breast 
 
 Or dim his eyes : ^ 
 
 Where in his quiet, early grave. 
 The good, the beautiful, the brave. 
 
 The Christian knight. 
 May sleep until that blessed day 
 When earthly gloom shall melt away 
 
 In heavenly light. 
 Stonington, March 4, 1866. 
 
LBO 
 
 AA/ 
 
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