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 SOTW^E PERSONAL 
 
 I^emif^iseepees of ^rmy life. 
 
 A PAPER 
 
 Read before the Missouri Commaiulery 
 
 MILITARY ORDER 
 
 Loyal I^egioii of the United ;5tates 
 
 M^AKCH 5XH, 1887. 
 
 BY COMPANION 
 
 EVERKTT W. PaXTISON, 
 
 Late Captain 2d Massachusetts Vol. Infantry. 
 
 ST. LOUIS: 
 
 Smith .V Owens PRiNjiNti Co. 
 1887. 
 
Av 
 1 ' .i« '0 
 
^GQ 
 
 ?3^ 
 
 Some Personal Reminiscences of Army Life. 
 
 A PAPER 
 
 read before the missouri commandery of the military 
 Order of the Loyal Legion, 
 
 BY COMPANION 
 
 EVEREXX W. F'ATXISON, 
 
 Captain Second Mass. hifantry. 
 
 The attack on the Sixth Massachusetts at Baltimore, 
 was an event of supreme importance in connection with 
 the secession movement. Until that hour multitudes at 
 the North had refused to be convinced that the conflict 
 was inevitable, and few persons of mature years had 
 considered the possibility of being personally called 
 upon to bear arms. Bat the tidings of violence in the 
 streets of Baltimore as they were flashed over the land, 
 brought to every mind a conviction not only that war 
 had actually commenced, but that at this juncture there 
 rested upon each citizen a duty to liis country which 
 could only be discharged by personal service. Nowhere 
 was the excitement more intense than in that city of 
 central Massachusetts in which I was then residing. 
 Many of lier citizens were in the ranks of the famous 
 Sixth ; and while we waited with uncertainty for the list 
 of casualities, not knowing what families would be 
 plunged into mourning, the feeling grew and deepened. 
 No battle in after years, with its long list of dead,, 
 wounded and missing, created so profound an impression 
 as this comparatively bloodless affair. 
 
— 2 — 
 
 The call for three years troops which soon followed 
 this event, the enthusiastic response of the old Bay State 
 to that call, the promptness with which regiment after 
 regiment was raised, equipped and sent to the field, are 
 matters of history. I was then just twenty-two years of 
 age, and partook of the prevalent enthusiasm with all 
 the ardor of youth. My determination to enter the 
 service was at once formed. But preliminary to putting 
 this resolution into effect, I had a difficulty to remove as 
 to which I experienced no little misgiving. My father 
 was getting to be an old man. His affection for his 
 children was deep and fervent. G-rave doubts filled my 
 mind whether he would willingly consent that his oldest 
 boy should encounter the hardships and risks of war. 
 It is true I was of age, and could have gone without his 
 consent. But our relations had been too close and inti- 
 mate, and my respect and veneration for him was too 
 great, to permit my taking such a step without his ap- 
 probation. At last I mustered up courage to broach the 
 subject, and with no little hesitation and tremulousness 
 made known my intention. His answer showed the true 
 Anglo-Saxon spirit. " I should be ashamed of you," he 
 said, " if you did not go." 
 
 It was this same element in his character which led 
 him at a later period of the war, after the surgeon had 
 reported that my younger brother was physically unfit- 
 ted for service in the field, to offer the usual bounty to 
 any one who would go in his stead, and in addition 
 thereto to care for the family of such substitute during 
 his term of service. The same stern and determined spirit 
 showed itself in that 3^ounger son. He would not remain 
 at home, notwithstanding the warnings of physicians, 
 but entered the army at 18 as a private soldier, and re- 
 mained in it, without losing a day from active service, 
 until the last gun had been fired. 
 
 In April and May, 1861, several Massachusetts regi- 
 ments were in process of formation, among them one in 
 
— 3 — 
 
 my own city, wliicli was afterwards mustered into the 
 service as the Fifteenth. There was one feature in this 
 organization, however, common to most regiments in 
 our service, wliicli was contrary to my notions of military 
 matters. It was formed on the militia plan. A number 
 of men constituting a company elected their officers. 
 Several comjDanies combined to form a regiment, and these 
 elected the field officers. It seemed to me imj^ossible 
 that the requisite discipline could be maintained by offi- 
 cers thus selected. And though I was offered a commis- 
 sion in the Fifteenth, I preferred to wait. The time was 
 not wasted, as a portion of every day and night was 
 given to drilling under a drill-master hired for that pur 
 pose. About the middle of May I heard that a regiment 
 was being raised in Boston, the Colonel and Lieutenant 
 Colonel of which were graduates of the military academy, 
 had both seen actual service, and in which it was declared 
 that the strict discipline of the regular army was to 
 obtain. This was what I was looking for. I took the 
 train for Boston, and went out to the camp. I found one of 
 the officers — Capt. A. B. Underwood, who was afterwards, 
 while Colonel of the the Thirty-third Massachusetts, 
 wounded at Missionary Ridge, and who before the close 
 of the war became a Brigadier General. Finding that I 
 had an idea of enlisting, he promised that if I would en- 
 ter his company he would give me the position of First 
 Sergeant. I accepted it, signed his roll, returned to my 
 home to bid good- by to parents, brother and sisters, and 
 next day reported at camp for duty. 
 
 This regiment was the one which afterwards became 
 famous as the Second Massachusetts Infantry. On the 
 29th of April, five days before the President issued his 
 call for three-j^ear troops, the Lieutenant Colonel and 
 Major of this regiment had induced the Secretary of 
 War to sign a paper agreeing to receive into the service 
 of the United States for three years, a regiment which 
 Col. Geo. H. Gordon was then raising. It thus happened 
 
that this regiment was the first in the United States to be 
 organized for a three years campaign. It did not obtain 
 the number " One," because the regiment of Massachu- 
 setts militia which held that number also went into the 
 service. But it was in fact first in point of time. 
 
 The ten companies of the regiment were soon raised, 
 and by the 20th of May all were in camp at Brook Farm 
 in West Roxbury, the place immortalized by the author 
 of Blythedale Romance. " On the gently sloping hill- 
 side in the wide pasture," which Hawthorne describes, 
 we pitched our tents. And here we remained until July 
 8th. The days were spent in unceasing drill and in the 
 performance of every military duty and observance 
 which would be required in active service in the field. I 
 find from a letter written on the 6th of June,^^ that the 
 daily routine of life was as follows : Up at quarter 
 of five ; drill until half past six ; breakfast at seven ; 
 guard mounting at quarter before eight ; drill again at 
 half-past eight until half-past ten ; drill again at half- 
 past eleven until half-past twelve ; dinner at one ; drill 
 at half-past three for two hours ; dress parad.e at half- 
 past six; supper at seven; tattoo and roll-call at nine; 
 taps and sleep at half-past nine. After such a day's 
 work as that, it may well be imagined that I was ready 
 for sleep, and lost no time in getting into my blankets. 
 It was a pretty severe life for a young man who had never 
 known what work was, and whose most arduous tasks 
 had been in the school-room or study. It had its ad- 
 vantages, however. For, considering that this was almost 
 my first absence from home, I might have had a severe 
 attack of home-sickness if there had been any time for it. 
 
 In the same letter I find a description of my accom- 
 modations. They seemed scant and hard enough to me 
 then, although they were luxurious when compared with 
 later experiences. " The accommodations of soldier life 
 
 =•■ This paper is made up almost entirely from the contents of my letters written 
 home during the first two years of my army life. E. W. P. 
 
— 5 — 
 
 are not of the best," I write. " I have after a week and 
 a half of eifort succeeded in obtaining a table. Not a 
 chair, or a camp-stool or anything but a small box ; and 
 that is one that one of my company left in here for a day 
 or two. The rain is pattering down on my tent, but doesn't 
 €omein m?^c7^. * * '^ I mess with the four under sergeants 
 — five in a tent. The privates mess twelve in a tent. I 
 have my meals alone, however." 
 
 On the 8th of July we marched into Boston, whence 
 we took cars for the west. An incident occurred 
 in connection with our departure which illustrates 
 how little, even at that late date, it being then nearly 
 three months after the attack on Sumter, people real- 
 lized that the war was a terrible reality. As the men 
 were falling in preparatory to the marcli from the Com- 
 mon to the depot, one good mother in Israel, gazing 
 earnestly in the face of the Colonel, said ; " We look 
 to you. Col. Gordon, to bring all of these young men 
 back in safety to their homes." Safety ! That was not 
 exactly what those young men were going after just then. 
 Certain it is, if, in those many hard-fought fields which 
 made the following years glorious, there was any place 
 which safety had utterly abandoned, the Second Massa- 
 chusetts always found that spot. 
 
 The morning of the 9tli of July found us in New York. 
 Never shall I forget that march down Broadway ; that 
 magnificent regiment, with clean new uniforms, dark 
 blue coats and light blue trousers, we having from the 
 first adopted the regulation uniform, the ranks full, 1035 
 men in line, every man wearing white gloves, every 
 musket and article of equipment as bright and neat as 
 constant rubbing could make it ; the officers in full dress 
 uniforms with chapeaux and epaulettes, and the field 
 with gayly caparisoned horses. The men showed the 
 eff'ects of their six weeks drill and training. In precision 
 of marching and in soldierly bearing few commands 
 superior to it have ever been seen on the streets of New 
 
— 6 — 
 
 York. Immense crowds thronged tlie sidewalks, hung 
 from the lamp-posts, filled the windows of the stores and 
 the balconies of the hotels. The new call " Hi ! hi ! hi !'^ 
 had just come into fashion, and as the head of the regi- 
 ment approached each square it was taken up by the 
 crowd, and was passed from block to block and repeated 
 from thousands of throats, until the last file closer had 
 disappeared. It was such an ovation as men seldom re- 
 ceive. Every eye sparkled, every heart beat proudly, 
 and every step was firmer for it. 
 
 We left New York at night, and when the drums beat 
 the assembly, the place where the companies had to fall 
 in was pitcli dark. Yet to the wonderment of the throng 
 which pressed close up to our sentries, every first ser- 
 geant called the roll of his men without the slightest hesi- 
 tation, and called it correctly too. For in our training 
 camp the first sergeants had been early taught to dis- 
 pense with the roll-book ; it being required of each that 
 he should be able to call the roll of his company under 
 any circumstances, in darkness or storm, in camp or on 
 the march, without the aid of book or paper. There was 
 not a first sergeant in the regiment who could not, on the 
 darkest night, make up his detail for guard or picket 
 duty without missing a man. 
 
 We had been assigned to Patterson's command, who 
 was then operating near Winchester, with Johnson op- 
 posing him. We joined this command at Martinsburg 
 on the 12th of July. Its movements, or rather non- 
 movements, up to the time of the first battle of Bull Run,, 
 and the subsequent melting away of that army, which 
 was composed mostly of three months men — the settling 
 down by three-years regiments which remained to daily 
 drill and discipline, and to the earnest purpose of form- 
 ing an army which should on future fields show its 
 metal, are all matters of liistory. I shall refer to them only 
 as they connect themselves with my own experiences 
 and those of the command to which I was attached. 
 
— 7 — 
 
 Most of tlie time between the defeat at Bull Run and 
 that at Ball's Bluff our regiment spent at a little insig- 
 nifficant place in Maryland, with a name which seems to 
 have been conferred upon it with a special view to its 
 occupancy by troops, Darnstown ; and there day after 
 day we went through our tedious evolutions— squad drill, 
 company drill, battalion drill, brigade drill. We drilled 
 with knapsacks and without knapsacks— in warm 
 weather and in cold weather — in rain and cloud and sun- 
 shine alike. Oh ! the volleys of oaths that those hills 
 heard ! For our regimental officers believed in the virtue 
 of swearing ; and while the Colonel damned the subor- 
 dinate officers, the Lieutenant Colonel damned the men. 
 There was a true impartiality about this damning that 
 could but excite our admiration, audit is needless to say 
 that we would never have learned the various evolutions 
 without it. For you know that drilling and swearing 
 have always gone together from the time when that cele- 
 brated army was in Flanders. 
 
 This camp at Darnstown illustrates one of the uncer- 
 tainties of military life— that uncertainty which, to my 
 mind, is one of its greatest charms. We marched into a 
 field by the road-side near that classic village on the 30th 
 of August. I find from a letter written on the 12th of 
 the next month, that on that August day our officers were 
 so confident that the halt made there was only tempor- 
 ary, they did not for several hours permit us to pitch our 
 tents. About noon, however, the order came, and the 
 tents went up, for a single night, as was supposed. Yet 
 there we were on September 12th, and there we remained 
 for nearly six weeks after the latter date. I repeat, this 
 very uncertainty, was one of the great charms of a sol- 
 dier's life. We knew what the present offered us. But 
 into the future we could not look, not even so far as a 
 single hour. That which appeared to be the most tem- 
 porary and evanescent, was not infrequently, the most 
 
permanent. That which we expected would endure, was 
 often most unceremoniously and suddenly terminated. 
 
 Thus, after we had gone into winter quarters at 
 Frederick, and the nice warm huts had been built, with 
 their cheerful fireplaces at the upper end, some one in 
 authority away up the line took it into his head on the 
 4th of January — the very coldest part of the winter — to 
 issue an order that we should cook two days' rations and 
 hold ourselves in readiness to march. This order was 
 received on the 5th, and on the 12th we were still under 
 marching orders, and were still keeping our two daj^s' 
 rations cooked and in readiness. On the 80th of January, 
 the same state of things continued, and the movement 
 was finally made on the 27th of February, just fifty- three 
 days from the time it was first received. 
 
 While camping at Darnstown, an incident occurred 
 which for a time threatened serious consequences, but 
 which was really of little account except as it showed 
 how far apart, in the matter of discipline, were regiments 
 from the same state. A private soldier in ours had been 
 sentenced by court martial to be tied up one hour a day 
 for three successive days. On the first day the men of the 
 Twelfth Massachusetts, the camp of which adjoined ours, 
 saw the man undergoing his sentence. Immediately the 
 cry was raised : "Cut him down ! cut him down !" and in an 
 instant our streets were full of excited men of the Twelfth, 
 who were going to release that fellow at all hazards. They 
 little knew, however, with what stuff they were dealing. 
 The regimental guard was quickly turned out and stood 
 quietly awaiting the rush. But the rush didn't come. The 
 rescuers glared at the guard a few moments, and then 
 permitted their officers to coax them back to their 
 camp. But during that afternoon, both the Colonel of the 
 Twelfth, and Major General Banks, commanding the 
 corps, endeavored to induce our Colonel to liave the sen- 
 tence on the succeeding days carried out in some retired 
 spot where its execution could not be seen. And when 
 
— 9 — 
 
 this was refused, since it did not come in tlie form of an 
 order from the General commanding, Col. Webster, 
 fearful that he could not control his men, on both days 
 took his regiment away off to a distant held, and kept 
 them on battalion drill during the entire time the man 
 was undergoing his punishment. 
 
 I have already indicated that I was an admirer of 
 military discipline.' That of the Second Massachusetts 
 was strict, almost rigorous, and was carried into the 
 smallest details. The intercourse between officers and 
 men was limited to that which was official. While I was 
 first sergeant I was in a company whose Captain was the 
 brother-in-law of my most intimate friend. One of the 
 other Captains and one of the Lieutenants in the regi- 
 ment had been schoolmates with me, where our intimacy 
 had been more than usually close. Yet we never recog- 
 nized each other, except officially, until I was promoted 
 to the line; and on occasions when business called me to 
 my Captain's tent I never sat down, but invariably stood 
 with hat off and at attention till the business which took 
 me there was transacted. When I received my commis- 
 sion I went to my former quarters and bid good-bye to 
 luy fellow sergeants, with whom I had been tenting for 
 nine months. And from that time all social intercourse 
 between us ceased until some of them were in turn pro- 
 moted. An incident which partook somewhat of the 
 ludicrous will illustrate the extent to which this observ- 
 ance of the punctilliousness of military etiquette was 
 carried. One warm day after a prolonged spell of drill- 
 ing, the Captain ordered a rest. All the non-commis- 
 sioned officers and privates threw themselves upon the 
 ground. The Captain approached me to give some direc- 
 tions, and as I made a movement to arise and occupy 
 the position of attention, he said : "Never mind. Sergeant, 
 about rising; I have only a word to say to you." Un- 
 luckily at that moment the Colonel appeared in sight, 
 mounting a ridge which had concealed his approach. He 
 
— 10 — 
 
 rode lip to the company, and said: "Captain, is your 
 sergeant sick?" The Captain salated and responded in 
 the negative. "Yon will report to your tent under ar- 
 rest," he said to the Captain. Then looking around and 
 seeing that there was no other officer with the company, 
 he turned to me and said : "Sergeant, drill this company," 
 and rode off without another word. 
 
 I am aware that this Tnay seem to be a needless marti- 
 netism. And so it doubtless appeared to us at the time. 
 But there can be no question that it was this insist- 
 ance upon the most rigid discipline at all times and on 
 all occasions in trifles as well as in important matters, 
 which made that regiment one which every General 
 was glad to have in his command, one which could be 
 relied upon in any case, be the emergency ever so grave. 
 
 While we were in winter quarters at Frederick, an 
 enterprising individual came along peddling stationery. 
 He had procured what purported to be a sketch of our 
 encampment, and had lithographed it for the letter heads 
 and the backs of the envelopes. When our Colonel looked 
 at the picture great was his indignation. The artist, im- 
 pressed probably with the idea that the scene would be 
 monotonous if all the sentries had their muskets at a 
 carry, had represented one of them standing in most 
 unsoldier-like ease, his arm leaning on the muzzle while 
 the butt of his piece rested on the ground. The engrav- 
 ing was, of course, " from a sketch taken on the spot." 
 But " the spot " was in the artist's studio, and not in the 
 vicinity of our camp. One thing is certain, it would not 
 have been well for any man on guard duty in that camp 
 to have been caught in the position occupied by the 
 sentry in the picture. 
 
 A letter written home about this time contains a 
 question which forcibly recalls one of the many delu- 
 sions and false reports which in those days were so con- 
 stantly floating about in the army and at home. " What 
 do they think at the North of Jeff Davis' death ? " I 
 
— 11 — 
 
 write. " What effect do they think it will liave on the 
 war ? " 
 
 While at Frederick I received my commission as Sec- 
 ond Lieutenant, and was assigned to Company E. I find 
 in one of my letters the following description of my Cap- 
 tain, which, as I omit names, there can be no indelicacy 
 in reproducing. '' Who is that long slim man on the 
 left hand bed ? " you ask. "He is rather slim both in 
 face and limb. He has a very heavy beard but so ar- 
 ranges his hair as to give a feminine cast to his coun- 
 tenance. His words of command are given in a soprano 
 tone, and are pitched in the key of E ; but when he con- 
 verses this is harshened into a grumbling tone. You 
 will observe at the foot of his bed a bottle, not round 
 and black, but square and of light glass. Yes I am sorry 
 to say he is very dissipated — though on the compara- 
 tively harmless drink of Cod Liver Oil. Cod Liver Oil 
 is his morning solace, the companion of his meals, and 
 ere he goes to bed he drowns in its mellifiuous, slippery 
 waves all the cares of the day. Verily he drinketh much 
 cod liver oil. That is my Captain ; the best Captain and 
 most ardent lover of a military life in the whole line. 
 His company have the utmost confidence in him, and he 
 is always ready to swear by his company. He is a man 
 of fine talents, a great reader and an author of no mean 
 pretensions, a member of a family well known in the 
 annals of the country, and a descendant of one who has 
 occupied the President's chair. With all his womanish 
 ways and looks he is ever ready for a fight, and is as 
 cool in the midst of carnage as when draining a glass of 
 his favorite cod liver oil," 
 
 As I look back upon my relations with my Captain, 
 many pleasant reminiscences come to my mind. He was 
 a great reader, and his reading took a wide range. He 
 remembered, too, whatever he read, and could repeat 
 page after page from many authors. Many an hour has 
 been thus beguiled of its tediousness. On more than one 
 
— 12 — 
 
 occasion wlien in bivouac, and when we have been driven 
 by the cold rains of late autumn to spend our hours in 
 bed in order to keep warm, we have lain snugly wrapt 
 up in our woolen blankets with rubber blanket over all, 
 and while the rain pattered on our heads and the gusts 
 of wind whirled the smoke from a sputtering fire in our 
 faces and filled our eyes with involuntary tears, the Cap- 
 tain would repeat whole pages from Bigiow papers, or 
 from Dickens, or some other equally entertaining writer, 
 until 1 would utterly forget the little discomforts and an- 
 noyances which would otherwise have made life mis- 
 erable. 
 
 I call to mind one debt 1 owe him which was of a 
 more substantial kind. As we were going into the bat- 
 tle of Cedar Mountain — an affair which we plainly 
 foresaw was to be a bloody one — each committed to the 
 other sundry arrangements to be carried out in case of 
 casualty to either. Among other things he mentioned 
 that he was expecting a box from home. "If I get 
 knocked over," he said, " I want you to enjoy the con- 
 tents. Take them and use them as if they were your 
 own." When the action was over the poor fellow was 
 badly wounded and in the hands of the enemy. It was 
 many a long day before we met again. But the box 
 came to hand in due time. It arrived just at the end of 
 Pope's celebrated retreat from the Rappahannock, dur^ 
 ing a great portion of which we had been on half rations, 
 and the balance of the time on no rations at all. The 
 box was filled with the best things, liquid and solid, 
 (including cod liver oil,) that Boston could produce and 
 that loving care could provide ; and the poor fellow for 
 whom they w^ere intended was luxuriating in the delica- 
 cies which were served out in Libby Prison. I was too old 
 a soldier, however, to let my sym23athy spoil my appe- 
 tite ; and two or three friends helped me stow the rations, 
 which we washed down with healths to their eccentric 
 but good-hearted owner. 
 
— 13 — 
 
 I have mentioned the battle of Cedar Mountain. Among 
 my letters I find very full accounts of this action, contain- 
 ing some incidents which will, perhaps, be of interest. 
 For the length of time the engagement lasted it was cer- 
 tainly the bloodiest aff"air in which I participated during 
 the entire war. We were under fire a little less than 
 thirty minutes. In that time our regiment lost six offi- 
 cers killed and mortally wounded, two wounded and 
 taken prisoners, one a prisoner but not wounded, and 
 four seriously wounded but still within our lines, and 
 several others slightly wounded. Of 23 officers wlio led 
 their men into action only seven came back unhurt. Of 
 500 enlisted men 160 were killed, wounded or missing. 
 On no other field, except that of Gettysburg, could our 
 loss compare with this. 
 
 Cedar Mountain is a steep hill rising from a com- 
 paratively level plain on the Gordonsville and Culpepper 
 Pike. Near the top is a house from which can be seen 
 every rood of ground for many miles around. On the 
 roof of this house Gen. Jackson was stationed, and with 
 his glass swept every avenue of approach. He knew as 
 accurately as Pope himself, the number and position of 
 every command on the Federal side, and just what force 
 to send against them. Upon our doomed brigade, con- 
 sisting of three regiments, he hurled four brigades. They 
 advanced obliquely on our right flank, so that when their 
 center reached our right, their left far overlapped us 
 and had already penetrated to our rear. Then we were 
 subjected to a cross-fire, and it was that cross-fire that 
 so rapidly swelled the list of casualties One officer of 
 " ours " — Capt. Goodwin — had risen from a sick bed to 
 lead his men into this battle. Just as the rebel lines 
 turned our flank, volley after volley was poured into 
 his company. Capt. Goodwin was instantly killed. 
 His servant who was near him, stepped forward to take 
 his body to the rear. He was killed and fell across the 
 Captain's body. The First Sergeant then attempted 
 
— 14 — 
 
 to get the body of the Captain. He, too, was instantly 
 shot, and fell across the bodies of the Captain and his 
 servant. A corporal and a private then renewed the 
 effort to carry off the body, and they, too, fell dead 
 across the other bodies. And there on the next day 
 when we went to bury our dead the five bodies were 
 found, one on top of the other, just as they had fallen. 
 
 When the Colonel saw that the regiment was flanked 
 he ordered us to fall back about 200 yards, and there we 
 took up another position where we remained unmolested. 
 While executing this backward movement the color 
 sergeant discovered that the eagle which surmounted the 
 color staff — a rich, heavily gold-plated one — had been 
 shot off. He was already some distance from the place 
 which had been occupied by our troops. But that eagle 
 was not to be left to become a trophy for rebels. Leav- 
 ing the colors with the color-guard, he retraced his steps, 
 found the eagle, and brought it back in triumph. And 
 for this heroic act he received his shoulder straps. 
 
 There has been no little discussion as to which side 
 won the victory in this engagement, or whether either 
 side was victorious. I find in a letter Avritten the next 
 day after the battle, some remarks on that point, which 
 show the way I looked at it when everything was 
 fresh in my mind. From this letter I quote : " For three 
 reasons I say the enemy did not gain the victory. The 
 first is that we were only driven back from our advanced 
 position to that which we originally occupied, and we 
 had given the enemy so severe a punishment that they 
 did not dare follow us one foot. The second reason is 
 the great loss inflicted upon the enemy. It was fully equal 
 to, if not greater than, ours. I know it in several ways. 
 One of our ofiicers, the Major, was mortally wounded. 
 Yet the rebel surgeons said they had so much to do in 
 taking care of their own wounded that they could not 
 attend to him, and they had to send and get help from 
 our side for him. Again, under a flag of truce our offi- 
 
— 15 — 
 
 cers conversed with many of tlie rebel officers. One of 
 the latter said that the rebel loss was not so great as 
 ours, but that the Union men fought like devils. But 
 another — Col. Jeff. Stuart, a classmate of Gordon's at 
 West Point, by the way — said that it was the fiercest 
 fight of the war, and that their loss was tremendous. (I 
 remark here, parenthetically, that Lee's report makes 
 the Confederate loss 229 killed and 1047 wounded — a 
 total of 1276.) But the most convincing fact is that the 
 enemy did not dare again attack us ; and what is more, 
 asked an armistice to bury their dead, and during the 
 armistice they drew off their whole army across the 
 Rapidan River." 
 
 Promotions were rapid in those days. "When I went 
 into that fight I was fourth in rank of the 2nd Lieuten- 
 ants. When I came out I was the sixth in rank of the 1st 
 Lieutenants. I entered the action a mere filecloser. I came 
 out in command of two companies. That happened in this 
 way. During the thickest of the fight my Captain sent 
 me to the Colonel with some information as to the ap- 
 proach of a body of the enemy on our left. Just as I 
 passed Company F, a terrific volley swept over the regi- 
 ment, and the only officer of that company was badly 
 wounded. As this left his company without an officer the 
 Colonel ordered me to take command of it. Later in the 
 action my Captain was wounded and fell into the hands 
 of the enemy. So I had charge of my own company 
 also." It was some two or three weeks afterwards be- 
 fore there were enough line officers to allow one to each 
 company. And as the empty tents flapping in the night 
 wind called to mind our brother officers, some lying in 
 soldiers' graves, some pining in southern prisons, a tinge 
 of sadness colored our tlioughts. But such is war. 
 
 At Gettysburg, also, our loss was heavy ; and there, 
 too, it was quickly over. I was then serving on the staff 
 of Gen. A. S. Williams, who, though only a Brigadier, in 
 that battle commanded the Twelfth Army Corps. Towards 
 
— IB — 
 
 the latter part of the forenoon of that day, Gen. Mead 
 and all of his staff officers, together with a large number 
 of general officers and their staffs, had gathered on a 
 small rocky knob that rises abruptly a short distance to 
 "the left of the pike leading to Gettysburg. All were in- 
 tently watching the contest in which the right wing was 
 then engaged. A regiment was seen to move from behind 
 the breast- works and gallantly charge the strongest 
 point in the enemy's position. For some twenty minutes 
 the unequal contest was kept up. Then this regiment 
 moved deliberately and with a perfect alignment to the 
 rear, then by the left flank a few rods, again by the left 
 flank into their original position. Here they knelt down 
 and poured such a galling fire into the enemy which had 
 started in pursuit, that the latter were glad to seek shelter. 
 Every movement of the regiment had been executed with 
 the precision and care of a review. From all sides I 
 heard exclamations : Beautiful ! beautifully done ! 
 What regiment is that? and like expressions. I had 
 recognized the colors of my own regiment, and my heart 
 swelled with pride to which I sought in vain to give 
 utterance. 
 
 But fearful had been the cost of that brilliant move- 
 ment. It was a case, so common in warfare, of a mis- 
 taken order. An order had been sent to the brigade 
 commander to "feel the enemy " at the point indicated. 
 When the message reached Col. Mudge, who was in com- 
 mand of the Second, it had grown into an order to attack 
 the enemy and carry his position. The young com- 
 mander, for he was only twenty-three, gave a sharp 
 glance at the Aide w^ho had repeated the dispatch, and 
 with the quiet remark : " It's murder, but it's an order," 
 gave the word to advance. Bravely he led his men on 
 that forlorn hope. But he never came back. He fell 
 while leading the charge ; and when the regiment returned 
 it left with its commander on the bloody field 134 officers 
 and men. Fortj^-four in every hundred had fallen. For 
 
— 17 — 
 
 of the 22 officers and 294 men who were sent to that 
 useless slaughter, only 182 returned unharmed. During 
 the carnage five color-bearers in succession were shot 
 down. But those colors never touched the ground. 
 Before one nerveless hand had relaxed its gripe another 
 had siezed tjie staff. And during the whole fight that 
 flag which 1 had so proudly recognized was borne aloft by 
 men who could die, but could never see their colors trail 
 in the dust. No wonder one of the generals near me cried 
 out in his enthusiasm : " I never saw a finer sight than 
 that regiment coming back over that terrible meadow, 
 facing about and forming in line as steady as though on 
 parade." 
 
 Among the officers who bore honorable wounds on 
 that day, was Capt. Tom Fox. He was one for whom I 
 entertained a warm regard, and our friendship was mu- 
 tual. Our ages were almost equal, both having been 
 born in February, 1839. We graduated from college • 
 about the same time. When the war broke out we were 
 both engaged in teaching, spending the hours not ap- 
 propriated to school duties in studying law. Both of us 
 had thrown our books aside to enter the service. He 
 joined the regiment soon after I was commissioned 
 Second Lieutenant, and from that time our intimacy 
 dated. I met him shortly after the action on the 3d, and 
 he was then in the best of spirits. He was proud of his 
 regiment and of what it had done on that day. A ball 
 had struck him in the ankle, inflicting what all supposed 
 to be a slight wound. " I will go home," he cheerfully 
 said to me, " and get a little rest and visit my friends. 
 This thing will soon heal, and I will be back by the time 
 the regiment shall be called into action again." I bade 
 him good-bye, without a thought that I had seen him for 
 the last time. But the wound was more serious than we 
 imagined, and in just three weeks afterwards he died. 
 
 As I look over these old letters, comical incidents are 
 mingled with the sad. I find in one, written the day 
 
— 18 — 
 
 before Antietam, an amusing account of the fainting of 
 a man in the ranks. It was the day after the action at 
 South Mountain. We were toiling up the steep roads 
 that afford the only passage over the ridge, now winding 
 around declivities, now attaining some vantage ground 
 from which we had an unobstructed view for miles, 
 and again plunging into thick woods which entirely 
 shut out every prospect. Just as the road entered a 
 small patch of trees near the summit of the mountain, 
 a battery on the other side, and only about a quarter of 
 a 'mile ahead, opened fire. As one gun after another 
 boomed out, it seemed in that clear air as if we were 
 directly upon it. Suddenly there fell upon our ears the 
 sharp ringing sound of a musket striking upon rocks. 
 As every eye turned in that direction there was seen the 
 body of one of the most stalwart men in the command. 
 He lay stretched out at full length on the macadam by 
 the roadside, seemingly in a dead faint. One of the 
 officers of his company approached him and gazed 
 intently into his face. Then grasping him by the collar, 
 with a vigorous jerk he brought him to his feet, and 
 while he assisted him with his boot to retake his place 
 in the ranks, he remarked in a tone that could be heard 
 the entire length of the regiment: "The next time you 
 want to faint, don't do it with red lips." It is needless 
 to say the poor fellow never heard the last of that epi- 
 sode ; and he was known to the close of the war as the- 
 man-who-fainted-with-red-lips. 
 
 One more incident, and I will not further tax your 
 patience. The battle of Resaca, in Georgia, was fought 
 in a very hilly and woody country. Ravines concealed 
 by trees and heavy underbrush, led in almost every 
 direction, and for this reason it was diflicult to find a 
 position where our flanks were not more or less exposed. 
 An Indiana battery had been placed at the mouth of one 
 of these ravines, wiiere it commanded the ground over 
 which the enemy must pass in advancing*, and there it 
 
— 19 — 
 
 had done magnificent execution. Charge after charge 
 of the rebels had been repulsed, and a large share of the 
 credit was due to this battery. The enemy evidently 
 came to the conclusion that those guns must be silenced 
 at any cost. There was a slight depression on the left 
 flank of the battery ; but the forest seemed so thick and 
 impenetrable there that its Captain did not anticipate 
 any trouble from that quarter. He reckoned without 
 his host, however Late in the afternoon, while hotlj^ 
 serving his guns, he was thunderstruck by an attack 
 from the left and rear. His infantry support almost 
 immediately gave way. There seemed nothing for it 
 but that his Parrotts must go. The rebels sprang upon 
 them with a yell, and before he could give the order to 
 face about, the gray uniforms were swarming upon him. 
 But Gen. Williams saw his predicament. The first brig- 
 ade, which contained the Third Wisconsin, the Second 
 Massachusetts and the Twenty-seventh Indiana, was 
 near at hand and not engaged. The General rose in his 
 stirrups, pointed to the endangered battery, and shouted : 
 Save it, men. I have never seen a job done with more 
 neatness and despatch. That old first brigade simply 
 went for those guns. One tremendous volley was fired; 
 and then without a shout or a sound, but with that ter- 
 rible earnestness which seemed to render cheers a mock- 
 ery, they charged upon the gray-coats. The battery 
 was saved, and in a few moments was pouring cannister 
 into the enemy's lines with, if possible, greater energy 
 than before. But it was a treat to see that Captain. 
 He ran up to the nearest regiment of the brigade, with 
 his great long arms stretched to their utmost, and grasp- 
 ing as many men as he could reach, he hugged and 
 squeezed them to his bosom. Tears of joy ran down his 
 face, and he almost sobbed out his incoherent Avords of 
 thanks and praise. He said he had heard that the east- 
 ern army could not fight. But it would not do for any 
 
— 20 — 
 
 man to say tliat in Ms presence thereafter. From that 
 event dated the fraternization between the troops who 
 had been transferred from the Potomac and the men who 
 had fought in the west, which during the long march to 
 the sea became cemented into the closest friendship. 
 

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