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Will Newton 
 
 The Young Volunteer, 
 
 BY T. GERRISH, 
 
 Author of ''Reminiscences of The War,'* The Blue and 
 
 The Gray,'^ etc. 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 BAXOOR, ME. 
 O. F. KXOWLES & CO., PRIXTERS, 
 
 1884. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 To THE SOXS OF THOSE NoBLE PATRIOTS WHO 
 FOUGHT IN DEFENSE OF THE UnION IN THE 
 
 LATE Civil War 
 
 THIS LITTLE VOLUME IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The writer has no apology to ofler in presenting 
 this book to the public. No attempt has been made 
 to display literary style. We have had no desire to 
 make the actors and events of the Civil War more 
 interesting by painting them in the colors of fiction. 
 It has been our design to give a truthful descrip- 
 tion of a soldier's life as it was seen by thousands 
 of the "Boys in Blue." And while the names of 
 its principal actors are fictitious, the characters in- 
 troduced and the events described will be readily 
 recognized by all survivors of the Union army. We 
 trust that all our readers may derive an inspiration 
 for good from the character and example of "Will 
 Newton, The Young Volunteer." 
 
Table of Contents. 
 
 Chapter I Page 13 
 
 Chapter II " 32 
 
 Chapter III ' ' 55 
 
 Chapter IV " 77 
 
 Chapter V " 93 
 
 Chapter VI " in 
 
 Chapter VII " 1 24 
 
 Chapter VIII " 141 
 
 Chapter JX " 15S 
 
 Chapter X " 171 
 
 Chapter XI " 1S5 
 
 Chapter XII " 202 
 
 Chapter XIII " 222 
 
 Chapter XIV * " 238 
 
 Chapter XV " 251 
 
 Chapter XVI ... " 262 
 
 Chapter XVII " 280 
 
List of Illustrations. 
 
 A Cavalry Engagement on the Rappahanock. 
 
 Battle of Bull Run, — July 21, 1861. 
 
 Battle of Williamsburg. 
 
 Building Breastworks near Richmond. 
 
 Camp Life. 
 
 Crossing the Potomac River at Harper's Ferry. 
 
 Charge of Captain Newton's Regiment at Fred- 
 
 ericksburof. 
 General Meade's Head-quarters at Gettysburg. 
 President Lincoln Reviewing the Army. 
 Raiding in a Snow Storm. 
 Scenes near the Battle Field of Fair Oaks. 
 Tlie Explosion of a Shell at Antietam. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 It was a beautiful Sabbath morning in the month 
 
 of May, 1861. The deep heavy tones of the church 
 
 bell had warned the citizens of the little New 
 
 England village of Maplewood, that it was the 
 
 hour for public worship ; and in obedience to such 
 
 summons, the worshipers came forth from their 
 
 homes in picturesque groups. The aged members 
 
 of the flock walked slowly, as if meditating upon 
 
 the goodness of God. The middle-aged appeared 
 
 to understand that the great respo;isibilities of the 
 
 present rested upon them. Young men and maidens 
 
 came forth in all the gaietv of youth, exchanging 
 
 many words of pleasantry as thev passed along ; 
 
 the children, too, came in little groups, looking for 
 
 the blossoms of spring and rejoicing in the clear 
 
 warm sunshine. People were also coming from 
 
 surrounding farms ; teams of almost every variety 
 
 and description, conveying entire family groups, 
 
 were being drawn up in front of the white church 
 3 
 
14 Will Newton^ 
 
 edifice. It was something unusual to see so large 
 a congregation gathering in Maplewood, and a 
 stranger would have had but little difficulty in 
 discovering that some event of great and universal 
 interest had occurred within that quiet village. 
 
 He would have detected it in the solemn words 
 spoken by the older people, as well as by the more 
 excited remarks of the younger, and also by the 
 children anxiousl}- looking in every direction, as if 
 expecting to see some strange personage. The 
 good pastor of the flock, he who had faithfully 
 ministered to its spiritual wants for more than two- 
 score years, seemed this morning to have forgotten 
 the infirmities of his sevent}^ winters, and walked 
 towards the church with a vigor unknown for 
 years. 
 
 The house was rapidly filling with people, and 
 while they are taking seats in the straight, high- 
 backed, old-fashioned pews in which former genera- 
 tions had sat and worshiped, we will for a moment 
 look at a youthful personage, one not yet observed 
 by worshiper or scribe. 
 
 He was standing in the old church-yard in the 
 rear of the church edifice, almost concealed from 
 view by a clump of small evergreen trees, which 
 
The Toung V^olunteer. 15 
 
 threw their branches out as a friendly screen towards 
 two grass-covered graves. Two white head-stones 
 were standing beside these mounds, bearing on one 
 side the names and ages of the deceased, and upon 
 the other, the words, — Father — Mother. That pale, 
 slender youth, some sixteen years of age, is Will 
 Newton, the only child of the deceased parents. 
 This spot had been frequently visited by him, 
 although he could but indistinctly remember either 
 of them. 
 
 There was nothing remarkable in his appearance. 
 His countenance was fair, with blue eyes and dark 
 brown hair, which although closely cut, did nut 
 prevent it from lying in curls upon his well formed 
 head. The only thing about him that would attract 
 special attention, was in his dress ; for he wore a 
 suit of dark blue clothes, the uniform of a private 
 soldier in the United States Army. 
 
 Will Newton had been so deeply absorbed in his 
 own thoughts, that he had not observed the gather- 
 ing congregation in the church not far off, but as 
 the last stroke of the great bell sent forth its final 
 warning from the tower, he aroused himself and 
 walked rapidly towards the church. He evidently 
 was not aware that he was to be an object of interest 
 
1 6 Will Newton^ 
 
 with his old friends, and looked somewhat surprised 
 when as he entered the church, every eye was 
 turned upon him, and a loud whisper, — "There he 
 is, — There he is," ran around the circle of the more 
 youthful worshipers. 
 
 He took his seat In an obscure corner of the 
 church near the door, but the excitement did not 
 subside. The choir and congregation came very 
 near breaking down w hile singing the old familiar 
 -hymn, — "A charge to keep I have," — but they 
 soon rallied and went throug^h the remainder of the 
 hymn with skill and great energy. The accustomed 
 quiet was ere long restored, but the presence of the 
 youthful soldier had affected all the exercises of the 
 occasion. 
 
 The pastor announced as his subject for the 
 morning discourse, the old thrilling narrative of 
 David the Shepherd boy, who. in the name of the 
 Lord God of Israel, went forth to battle w4th Goliah, 
 and while this subject is being presented to the 
 good people of Maplew^ood, wx will for a moment 
 sketch the life of the young man whose presence 
 has created so much interest among the congrega- 
 tion. 
 
The Toung Volunteer. \h 
 
 Twenty years before the date at which our story 
 opens, William Newton and his young w4fe had 
 purchased a little farm near the village of Maple- 
 wood, where for six years they had lived together 
 in almost unbroken bliss. Before the expiration of 
 those six years however, a dark cloud had gathered 
 over their home. Mr. Newton became the victim 
 of consumption, and after struggling manfully with 
 the disease for two years, he died leaving a heart- 
 broken wife and a son, the latter not quite two years 
 of age. The grass had barely had time to cover 
 the grave of the husband and father, before the 
 remains of the wife and mother were placed beside 
 it, and Will Newton, only three years of age, was 
 left alone in the world. 
 
 To settle up the estate, a distant relative of the 
 family living in an adjoining State came to Maple- 
 wood. The little farm was sold, the debts paid, 
 and little Will was taken with the few remaining 
 dollars of his father's estate, to reside at the home 
 of the relative. Seven years passed, and then the 
 boy who, during these years, had not been seen by 
 any of the villagers at Maplewood, came back to 
 his native village. He was kindly welcomed by 
 "those who had known his parents, and soon became 
 
1 8 Will Newton^ 
 
 a favorite among all the young people in the com- 
 munity. His time during the next six years was 
 divided between working for the farmers in the 
 neighborhood, and attending the village school, 
 where by close application to his studies he had 
 become an excellent scholar. A few days prior to 
 the morning on which our story opens, he had 
 journeyed to the city of D. — , twenty miles away, 
 and had there enlisted in the United States Volun- 
 teer Service for three years. Good reason why the 
 congregation at Maple wood should be interested, 
 for in their midst was the first 'man to enlist in the 
 Civil War from their town, and the first soldier in 
 a uniform that many of the people had ever seen. 
 
 The sermon was closed, the doxology sung, the 
 benediction pronounced. The congregation pressed 
 around Will to say good-bye, for it had become 
 generally known that he was obliged to return to 
 the city that afternoon, as his company was to leave 
 for the seat of war early on Monday morning. 
 Young men and women gave him many kind words 
 of encouragement, and expressed the best wishes 
 for his safety ; the fathers grasped his hand warmly 
 and spoke words of commendation ; the mothers 
 looked upon the pale motherless boy with tearful 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 19 
 
 eyes, and prayed as only mothers can for his safety ; 
 children joined in the procession and looked with 
 genuine curiosity upon the hero of the occasion. 
 The pastor gave words of encouragement and 
 Godly admonition. Good deacon Keene was among 
 the last, and had purposely remained behind, so that 
 his message would be remembered. He felt the 
 responsibility of the occasion, for was not he senior 
 deacon of the church, and had he not known Will's 
 father and mother, and had not he officiated in 
 taking charge of the exercises when they were 
 buried from the church? So clearing his voice, 
 and bracing himself for this the supreme moment 
 and effort of his life, he began in a cold, harsh tone 
 of voice, — "Well, young man, I understand that 
 you have enlisted ; it is a noble thing for you to do ; 
 the country is in danger ; many men must give up 
 their lives before the unholy war ceases ; I am glad 
 to know you are willing to sacrifice yours ; we shall 
 always remember you with pride ; and you must 
 remember that it is much more easy for you to go 
 than for other young men, who would be obliged 
 to leave both home and friends. Again I say you 
 are giving your life in a good cause." 
 
20 HV// N^eucton^ 
 
 The hot blood mounted to Will's temples at these 
 ill-timed remarks ; and how far the good deacon 
 would have £;-one on in the same strain we do not 
 know ; but as he was about to resume the thread of 
 his discourse, he was interrupted by a bluft', hearty 
 voice, saying, — -'O nonsense, deacon ; you must be 
 sufferins: ^vith an attack of the blues. Will Newton 
 will not die out there, but will come back to shame 
 us old fellows with a memory of the fact that he 
 w^as the first man in all our town to volunteer ; and 
 as for friends and home, no young man in all 
 Maplew^ood has more friends than Will, and a home 
 he shall have so long as Jerry Lamb has a shingle 
 above his own liead." 
 
 The speaker, a large framed, broad-shouldered 
 man, with a full red foce glowing w^ith good humor, 
 placed special emphasis upon the last sentence. 
 "But say," he continued, addressing the young man, 
 *'how do you propose to reach the city, if you 
 must be there to-day." — "I shall probably walk 
 sir," replied Will. "That is right," chimed in good 
 deacon Keene who had not yet retired from the 
 field. "Walk, — that w^ill be good exercise and by it 
 you will get accustomed to the long marches you 
 will have to make." Castinof a withering' look of 
 
The Young Volunteer. 21 
 
 contempt at the worthy speaker, fanner Jerry Lamb 
 blm'ted out, — "No ; you shan't walk. Come home 
 with me to dinner, and I will carry you out this 
 afternoon with my horse," and while thus speaking, 
 he hurried him from the house to his family carriage 
 in which sat Mrs. Lamb, Miss Lamb, a charming 
 girl of sixteen years, with Tom and Dick, her 
 younger brothers, aged respectively ten and twelve 
 years. 
 
 Jerry Lamb w^as considered one of the most 
 wealthy and influential farmers in the town of 
 Maplewood, and as he drove to his beautiful home 
 on this occasion, he muttered to himself and yet 
 loud enough for the other occupants of the carriage 
 to hear him, "that old deacon Keene is enough to 
 kill any one. The truth is he does not know any- 
 thing ; and yet I believe that his knowledge exceeds- 
 his religion. I don't profess to be a Christian, but 
 I do like to see people a little human-like, and have 
 some regard for the feelings of their fellow-sinners. 
 I vow I felt like choking the old fellovs^ right there 
 in the presence of the parson." And thus he mut- 
 tered on until the farm w^as reached. 
 
 The substantial New England dinner was soon 
 disposed of: — The fastest horse was harnessed to 
 
22 Wi7l Newton^ 
 
 the new buggy ; affectionate good-byes were said ; 
 Mr. Lamb and Will took seats in the carriage and 
 drove rapidly in the direction of D — 
 
 The city was reached before night-fall, and within 
 a large field in the outskirts of the town, Will 
 pointed out to Mr. Lamb a large tent, with two or 
 three smaller ones near at hand, where his company 
 was encamped, waiting for the morning train to 
 bear them to Washington, and to War. "Now 
 Will," exclaimed Jerry Lamb, as the boy alighted 
 from the carriage, "if ever you are in trouble, and 
 want assistance of any kind, call on me. I shall 
 expect you to write to us each week :" and without 
 stopping to hear Weill's thanks of gratitude, he 
 shook his hand, and leaving there a roll of bank 
 bills, turned his horse and drove in the direction of 
 Maple wood. 
 
 Will stood with tearful eyes looking at his kind 
 hearted benefactor, until man, horse and carriage 
 were concealed in a cloud of dust, and then walked 
 slowly in the direction of his company. He passed 
 through the line of sentinals, displaying the pass or 
 leave of absence which his captain had given him, 
 and reported immediately at the tent of that officer. 
 "I am glad to see you promptly on time" said the 
 
The Toung Volunteei'. 23 
 
 captain, "for we are to leave in the morning. Go 
 down to the great tent now, and get a good night's 
 rest." 
 
 Will obeyed, and a strange spectacle was presented 
 to him as he entered the huge canvas tent. There 
 were a hundred men within its ample walls 
 employed in a great variety of pursuits. Some 
 were sleeping, others were writing letters, reading 
 papers, eating supper, telling stories, playing cards 
 and other games ; while a group of half a dozen 
 young roughs were swearing, laughing, and creat- 
 ing a general disturbance. Young Newton passed 
 along as quietly as possible, and anxious to escape 
 observation, he went to a vacant corner and threw 
 himself upon the ground. The young roughs 
 however, soon discovered him, and decided that he 
 was a good subject for their sport. 
 
 He was soon surrounded and plied with all kinds 
 of insulting questions and remarks, to all of which, 
 Will replied with dignified good nature. But that 
 did not satisfy his tormentors, and the leader of the 
 gang soon proceeded to acts of personal violence. 
 Will sprang to his feet, and demanded that they 
 should desist. They greeted this demand with a 
 
24 Will NezL'tofi^ 
 
 loud shout of derision, and instantly forming a ring, 
 cried lustily,— '^a fight,"— ''a fight,"— "a fight." 
 
 The young rufiian who w^as evidently the ac- 
 knowledged leader of the band, ^vas a great, burly 
 fellow, and looked upon his slim antagonist for a 
 moment with a smile of derision ; then advancing 
 brought his open hand across Will's face \^ath a 
 ringing blow. This was hailed with a howl of 
 delight by his allies ; but their joy was of brief 
 duration. For an instant, Will stood with the blood 
 flowing in a crimson torrent from his nostrils ; then 
 something flashed out from his shoulder, and his 
 right hand, clenched solid like a hammer, rang with 
 a loud report upon the ear of his antagonist, who 
 fell as if dead at his feet. 
 
 For a moment not a w'ord was spoken b}^ the 
 fifty men who were spectators of the scene. The 
 friends of the fallen ruffian rushed towards Will 
 Avho stood like a lion at bay, crying, — "Knock him 
 down — shoot him — kill him." In that moment of 
 peril, the pale slender lad seem.ed transformed to a 
 veteran. What the result would have been, we 
 shall never know, for as they were thus rushing upon 
 their foe, a man who had been a witness of the 
 whole affair from its beginning, sprang to Will's 
 
The Tou7ig Vohinteer, 25 
 
 side and shouted, — "Luft' off there ye lubbers, or I 
 will sink every mother's son of you ; this chap is 
 all right, — I was mighty glad to see him send that 
 young pirate there gasping on his beam ends ; and 
 now if any ol you want satisfaction, call on me. 
 My name is Bill Logan, I have followed the sea for 
 thirty years, went round this globe before you lub- 
 bers were born, and if you are spoiling for a fight, 
 I can take any six of you at once, and then not have 
 cargo enough to make me a good ballast ; but if 
 one of you puts his dirty lingers on this boy I will 
 know the reason why ; and he had better say his 
 prayers before he undertakes the job." 
 
 Just at this moment, the captain broke through 
 the ring, and in angry tones demanded, "Who is 
 the cause of all this trouble?" •' 'Twas him, sir," 
 quickly said the crest-fallen friends of the fallen ruf- 
 fian, pointing to young Newton. "Every thing 
 w^as all right until he came in here putting on airs 
 and insulting: folks bv knocking them down." The 
 accused young man was about to indignantly reply ; 
 but the angry officer interrupted by saying, — 
 "Silence, sir ; and this is in payment for the kind- 
 ness I have shown you ! Here guard, take this- 
 fellow to the guard tent and watch him closely until 
 
26 Will Newton^ 
 
 to-morrow morning," and a moment later, Will was 
 hurried away by the guard to his place of confine- 
 ment. 
 
 The captain returned to his quarters. The guilty 
 roughs were exulting over the success of their base 
 falsehood. Bill Logan, the champion of Will 
 Newton, stood alone as if dum-founded by the 
 events which had so rapidly transpired around 
 him. 
 
 The latter personage, as he has already stated, had 
 been a seaman, and had followed the roving life of 
 a sailor for thirty years. Although at this time he 
 was but little over forty years of age, short in 
 stature, fleshy, with a full round face, broad shoul- 
 ders, which were a little stooped, and limbs of 
 gigantic size. His gait, w^as that so peculiar to sea- 
 faring men, whether on sea or land. At heart he 
 w'as as kind as a w^oman, but as fearless as a lion. 
 He had visited nearly every large city in the world, 
 and had encountered humanity in its lowest condi- 
 tions. He had been involved in many desperate 
 struggles before he stood forth in defense of young 
 Newton, w^hom he had beheld on this occasion for 
 the first time in his life. 
 
The Young Volunteer, 27 
 
 Lopan had accidentally drifted to the citv of D — 
 and having become weary of a sailor's life had, on 
 the preceding day. enlisted in the United States 
 service. He had been employed all day on Sun- 
 day in endeavoring to become accustomed to his 
 uniform, which he stjled the "blue toggerv put on 
 him by Uncle Sam." 
 
 As the captain disappeared. Bill muttered, "Well 
 I'll be bio wed if I ever saw any thing like that. I 
 have heard of being tried without Judge or Jury, 
 but this beats all. I'll just work up before the wind 
 to the old man's quarters and give him a salute." 
 And in genuine sailor foshion. he gave his blue 
 pants an extra hitch, and proceeded to roll along 
 the path leading to the captain's tent. Fortunately 
 for our friend, the canvas door of the tent was open, 
 so that when he was within half a dozen feet of the 
 tent, he saw the captain with a number of officers 
 within. When Bill saw this, to use his own 
 language, "he came immediately up before the 
 wind." ana nutting his cap under his arm sang out, 
 "A hoy theie. sir!" And without waiting; for his 
 challenge to be answered, he "let go," and stood 
 within the door- way. 
 
28 Will Neu-ton^ 
 
 As the astonished officers looked up to see who 
 the intruder was, he began, ''Look here, old man, 
 I don't know much about your military lingo, but I 
 am a chap who has seen knock-downs enough to 
 know what fair plav is, and to know the difterence 
 between a neat, nice, twig little sloop of war mind- 
 ing its own business, and a great, over grown, double 
 decked son of a g^un what fires on every thino;- he 
 
 sees." 
 
 ''Explain what you mean, sir !" said the captain. 
 
 '•Just what I came for, old man," replied Bill. — 
 ''that little craft that you have just towed away in 
 disgrace, is all right. He sailed in just like a 
 gentleman, and dropt his anchor, with a friendly 
 salute for everyone, and those young pirates tackled 
 him. He knocked the leader stern foremost quicker 
 than you could splice a main brace : and if you had 
 not hove in sight just as you did. the wliole fleet of 
 them would have gone to Davy Jones Locker 
 together. I tell you, old man, that lad has got the 
 metal in him. It would ha\e done you good to see 
 the shot he let fly from that starboard gun of his. 
 The other fellow struck his colors in a minute ; and 
 when the whole crowd got out their grappling irons 
 to board him, he faced the fire first-class. He has 
 
The Toung V^olunteer. 29 
 
 got grit in him, old man, and my advise is, give hini 
 fair play." And rolling the quid of tobacco in his 
 mouth with renewed energy, Bill Logan returned 
 to the tent, where the scowls of the ruffians were 
 showered upon him. 
 
 As he unrolled his blankets, and prepared to 
 camp down for the night, he gave them his parting 
 salutation in this manner: ''You understand that 
 my offer is a standing one. I am not in the habit 
 of flogging children, but if you want to try me at 
 any time, I am ready for any six of you at the same 
 time." 
 
 Will Newton was in the tent that served as a 
 guard house. He was hungry, weary and excited. 
 His face and clothes were covered with blood ; but 
 all these were forgotten by him in his indignation 
 caused by the treatment he had received from the 
 captain. 
 
 Thus the night passed, and at early dawn all was 
 life and bustle around and in the great tent. Before 
 breakfast was served to the men, they were 
 ordered to form a line in front of the captain's 
 tent. ^ 
 
 That officer referred briefly to the aflair of the 
 
 previous evening, and warned the men that any 
 3 
 
30 Will Newton^ 
 
 disobedience of orders on their part would bring 
 severe punishment upon them. He then instructed 
 the guard to bring the prisoner from the guard 
 house. 
 
 Young Newton's assailants were in high glee 
 Over the humiliation of their opponent. Bill Logan 
 ground his teeth in silent rage. A moment later 
 and the guard returned with their prisoner, but not 
 as we saw him last. The blood had been washed 
 from his face and clothes, and as he walked between 
 the sentinels he appeared to be cheerful and 
 happy. 
 
 The captain took him by the hand and said, 
 "Newton, I want to say before these men, that I 
 was misinformed as to the nature and instigators of 
 the trouble last night. You were most unjustly 
 punished. I have since learned the facts in the 
 case. You are completely exonerated from all 
 blame ; and as a token of my confidence in you, I 
 have promoted you to be a corporal. As for those 
 who assailed you last night, I have only to say, that 
 their conduct will be watched in the future, and all 
 offenses will be punished. You may now break 
 ranks. 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 31 
 
 Will Newton was delighted to stand thus exoner- 
 ated before his comrades. 
 
 The young ruffians were thoroughly discomfited ; 
 and Bill Logan was heard to mutter, — "Right 
 always prevails in the end." The men were all 
 very busy. Three days rations were to be stowed 
 away in their haversacks ; clothing and other 
 matters w^ere to be neatly packed in their knap- 
 sacks ; guns and equipments were to be made ready 
 for immediate use. 
 
 Young Newton used great care in packing his 
 
 knapsack, and in the safest place, he, with great 
 
 reverence, placed a small leathern bound copy of 
 
 the Scriptures ; for upon its fly-leaf was written in 
 
 a beautiful hand, the maiden name of that dear 
 
 mother whom he could only so indistinctly remem- 
 ber. 
 
 The loud beating of the drums called the men to 
 
 "fall in." The column was quickly formed ; the 
 
 line of march taken up for the depot, and Will 
 
 Newton was on his way to the seat of War. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 There was much for Will Newton to learn. It 
 ■was the first time that he had ever rode a hundred 
 miles from his native village, save w4ien as a child 
 he went to the home of his relative. At a junction 
 of the rail-road, his company joined the regiment 
 of which it was to compose a part. A thousand 
 men strong, crowding the long train of cars to 
 overflowing, rushed madly on, across fields and 
 rivers, winding along hill-sides, dashing through 
 tunnels, villages and cities, stopping only now and 
 then to march from one depot to another, until 
 Washington was reached. 
 
 It was not the magnificent city of Washington 
 as it exists at the present ^me. The beautiful 
 streets and parks, the elegant mansions, statues and 
 shade-trees which makes it now the most wonder- 
 ful city on the continent, were not there. 
 
 When Will Newton's regiment went marching 
 through it early in June, 1864, there was dirt and 
 disorder everywhere. Groups of infantry, squads 
 
The Toung Volunteer. xa 
 
 of cavalry, lines of sentinels, batteries of artillery 
 were seen along the streets and squares of the 
 city. 
 
 The regiment marched along some of the princi- 
 pal streets, then across the Potomac river on the 
 long bridge, and halted upon the famous Arlington 
 Heights in Virginia. It was night when they 
 arrived there, and they received orders to go into 
 camp. There were ten companies in the regiment, 
 each composed of one hundred men. Each com- 
 pany was encamped by itself, in two rows of small 
 tents, so pitched that there was a vacant space of 
 some twenty yards between the rows, which space 
 was known as the company street. 
 
 The small tents which the men were to occupy 
 were each large enough to accommodate four men. 
 The companies were speedily divided into squads 
 or messes of four. 
 
 Will Newton watched this mode of division into 
 family groups with a great deal of interest and 
 curiosity. He wondered who would be willing to 
 ■cast in their lot with him. While he was thus 
 musing, he was approached ])y Bill Logan, who 
 rolling his quid in his mouth, and giving his 
 trousers an extra hitch, remarked, ''Well, corporal ; 
 
34 Will Newton^ 
 
 providing you are willing, why not we ship as mess- 
 mates for the voyage. You may have already 
 noticed that I am not a polished stick of timber, 
 but I believe in fair play, and always stand by ready 
 to lend a hand when a messmate is in trouble." 
 
 Will was of course delighted at the prospect of 
 having his old defender become his tent-mate, and 
 by the time their arrangements were made, the 
 squads were all formed, and owing to the fact that 
 there was not a full hundred men in the com- 
 pany, there were none to share their tent with them, 
 which was a very gratifying fact to both. 
 
 It was a new life upon which Will Newton had 
 thus entered ; a life so filled with strange events 
 and unique features, that we must despair of giving 
 our young readers a truthful picture of it. So 
 much to learn that was novel in its character, and 
 so difficult to become familiar with. 
 
 The first night passed on Virginian soil was a 
 memorable one in the life of young Newton. After 
 the nine o'clock tattoo had been sounded, and 
 silence reigned supreme over the encampment, 
 Will sat out upon the hill-side near his tent to survey 
 the strange scene. It was a most lovely view. 
 The atmosphere was warm and balmy, a soft wind 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 35 
 
 breathed sweetly among the tents, the stars 
 twinkled indolently from the velvety cheeks of the 
 sky. The moon shone languidly, and but dimly 
 illuminated the scene. In the distance could be 
 seen the domes and spires of Washington. Between 
 the city and Arlington Heights there was a dense 
 broad belt of mist which hung suspended above the 
 sluggish waters of the Potomac river. Along the 
 Heights of Arlington as far as the eye could see, 
 long lines of white tents appeared in which thou- 
 sands of soldiers were sleeping. There were also 
 extensive lines of partially completed earth-works 
 and forts, while sentinels slowly marching along 
 their solitary beats, made up a scene worthy of the 
 artist's brush. 
 
 Will Newton drank this all in with a keen relish 
 for a time, but unconsciously his mind wandered 
 from these war-like surroundings, and went back to 
 the little village of Maplewood, the churchyard, the 
 groves, and all the living friends whom he had left 
 there. A strange, homesick feeling came over him 
 as he realized his homeless, friendless condition. A 
 great sob surged up from his heavy heart, and tears 
 ran like rain down over his face. He heeded not 
 how time was passing until he was suddenly aroused 
 
36 Will Nevjioji^ 
 
 by a heavy hand being placed upon his shoulder, 
 and the kind voice of his tent-mate was heard, say- 
 ing, "Come, come, my boy ! you must not be home- 
 sick ; you will soon get used to this, and then you 
 will be all right." 
 
 Will entered the little tent, lay down between the 
 army blankets and sobbed himself to sleep. 
 
 When mornins: dawned all the indications of 
 homesickness had passed away. There was so much 
 to see, to learn, and to do, that there was but little 
 time to think about home or friends. To become 
 .accustomed to the army rations was, of course, one 
 of the first, and also one of the most difficult 
 tasks that Will had to accomplish. It did seem 
 so strange to him to sit down upon the ground to 
 eat instead of at a table, as at home. And instead 
 of the three, square, hearty meals furnished on the 
 farm where he had worked, there were the nine 
 cakes of hard bread for each day's rations, a small 
 piece of meat, and a tin cup filled with coffee dealt 
 out at each meal by the company cook. 
 
 "Not much nourishment or juice to this hard- 
 tack !" quoth Bill Logan to his friend, as they were 
 eating their first dinner on Arlington Heights ; "but 
 we will get used to it after a while." And so they 
 
The Young Volunteer. 37 
 
 continued to grind the hard cakes and drink the 
 black coffee, until even Will came to regard these 
 almost as luxuries. 
 
 There were so many bugle calls, and so many 
 duties to perform, that for a few days young Newton 
 was completely confused, not knowing which came 
 first ; and when one duty was done he knew not 
 what would come next. But he was determined to 
 master the situation, and by careful observation he 
 soon had the difficult matter all systemized, and a 
 complete programme of each day's duties in his 
 mind. 
 
 It may be a matter of some interest to our read- 
 ers to know how the time of our young volunteer 
 was occupied. In the morning, at sunrise, there 
 was reveille. At this call, the men formed a line 
 in the company street, while the orderly sergeant 
 called a roll of all the names in the company. Those 
 present answering "here," as their names were 
 called. The absent were accounted for, and the ser- 
 geant reported to the captain, who in turn reported to 
 the adjutant of the regiment, so that the whereabouts 
 of each man in the command was known the first 
 thing in the morning. This was followed by the 
 call for breakfast. After breakfast the men turned 
 
38 W/l/ Newton^ 
 
 out to police the street, during which process the 
 tents were put in order, and all rubbish was removed 
 from the street and around the tents. At eight 
 o'clock the bugle sounded the sick-call ; and the sick 
 men in each company who were able to walk, under 
 the command of a sergeant, marched to the sur- 
 geons' tents to be examined and to have their wants 
 supplied. Those who were unable to go were vis- 
 ited by the surgeon in their tents. At nine o'clock 
 there was guard-mounting, when those detailed for 
 guard marched from their respective companies to 
 the parade ground in front of the colonel's tent, 
 where they were examined or inspected by the ser- 
 geant major and adjutant. At ten o'clock came the 
 company drill, which was an event of considerable 
 importance in the daily life of the soldier. 
 
 Oh ! such a drill ! marching and countermarching, 
 moving by the flank, wheeling upon a pivot. 
 
 Then the manual of arms was a mystery which 
 it seemed the men could never understand, for of 
 course they wxre very awkward. The sun was hot, 
 and two hours of exercise like this, gave them a 
 keen relish for the dinners of hard-tack, pork and 
 coffee which awaited them. 
 
The Young Volunteer. 39 
 
 At one o'clock they usually policed the regimental 
 camp. At two o'clock came battalion drill, when 
 for two hours the entire regiment in one body was 
 drilled by the colonel assisted by the other field offi- 
 cers of the regiment. At six o'clock they had sup- 
 per ; at sunset the regiment went out on dress pa- 
 rade, and at nine o'clock there was tattoo or taps as 
 it was usually called. 
 
 On Sundays there was no drill, but a regimental 
 inspection. At ten o'clock, and also in the after- 
 noon, there were religious services. The regiment 
 formed in a hollow square, facing inward, and the 
 chaplain, surrounded by the officers, standing in the 
 center to conduct the services. 
 
 Will Newton resolved to perform his duties faith- 
 fully. He was quick to learn, and soon became the 
 most expert man in the manual of arms in his com- 
 pany. His uniform was always neat and clean ; his 
 gun and equipments models of cleanliness ; his shoes 
 nicely polished. The regimental inspector one Sab- 
 bath morning, pronounced him the model soldier of 
 the regiment. 
 
 But in the midst of these manifold duties and 
 strange associations, Will always found time to read 
 his Bible, and before retiring at night, he repeated 
 
(^o Will Newton^ 
 
 the prayer which he had learned in childhood. It 
 was his custom to read a chapter aloud in the tent 
 each evening. Bill Logan had kindly assented to 
 •this, and always listened with the closest attention. 
 ■ This habit of reading aloud from the Bible was 
 soon discovered by his comrades, and a portion of 
 them, among whom were some of those who had 
 assaulted him on that memorable Sabbath, resolved 
 to ridicule him until he should abandon the practice. 
 They would gather on the outside around his tent, 
 groan and make the most hideous noises to disturb 
 him. 
 
 Bill Logan endured this for several nights, and 
 when they had closed one of their most remarkable 
 displays of rowdyism, Bill remarked, — "Look here, 
 messmate, don't it say somewhere in that good book, 
 that we must watch as well as pray?" 
 
 "Yes Bill, there is something like that found here ; 
 but why do you ask?" replied Newton. 
 
 "O nothing," responded the other; "only lam 
 not good for much on a prayer ; you attend to that ; 
 but I feel divinely moved upon to watch^ while you 
 fi'ay ; and we will begin to-morrow night." 
 
 Will asked no questions on the following evening, 
 when just before the time for the evening devo- 
 
The To7ing Volunteer. 41 
 
 tions, he saw Bill take from beneath his blanket a 
 large green-hide whip, such as were used in driv- 
 ing the mule teams ; conceal it under his loose 
 blouse and pass out into the darkness. 
 
 Will began to read aloud in a clear distinct tone 
 of voice. 
 
 There was heard a rustling of some half dozen 
 forms gathering in the grass around the tent. A 
 series of grunts and groans made the night hideous. 
 
 Bill Logan, Avho had been concealed behind a 
 neighboring tent, came quietly forward. 
 
 The great whip wielded by his powerful arm 
 sang and whistled through the air and came down 
 with great force upon the bowed forms before him ; 
 thicker and faster fell the blows, and the culprits 
 jumped and ran away howling with pain, and as 
 thoroughly frightened as if the whole Southern 
 confederacy had broken loose upon them. 
 
 Bill Logan entered the tent .and laughed until he 
 fell upon the ground, exclaiming, "that whip which 
 I borrowed of a mule driver had a powerful 
 influence upon these fellows." 
 
 ' The wicked persecutors never attempted any- 
 thing of the kind again, and they carried the marks 
 made by the whip for several weeks. 
 
42 Will Newton^ 
 
 Notwithstanding all the work, there were some 
 leisure hours in camp, and many were the games 
 invented and introduced to while away the time. 
 
 Will had made many intimate friends, and as 
 there were a large nuirfber of young men in the 
 company he did not lack for pleasant associates. 
 
 Some of the games he enjoyed, and engaged in 
 them with all the ardor and zeal of boyhood. 
 
 There was much gambling done and scarcely a 
 tent could be found in the whole company, save 
 that one occupied by young Newton, but what con- 
 tained one or more packs of cards. Nearly all 
 those who did not gamble for money, played for 
 pleasure. 
 
 Some of Will's young comrades were very 
 anxious that he should play. He w^ould plead 
 ignorance of the game ; as he had not only never 
 played but had never seen any playing cards until 
 after he had enlisted. 
 
 They offered to teach him the game. Will said 
 that he did not think it was right to play with them. 
 
 "O, nonsense !" — urged the others. "What possi- 
 ble harm can come from handling these little pieces 
 of pasteboard ; it is only in fun." Other voices 
 
The Young Volunteer. 43 
 
 chimed in, to increase the pressure brought to bear 
 upon him. 
 
 There was a peculiar fascination about the 
 beautifully painted cards which had a singular 
 influence over Will ; and within his own mind he 
 reasoned, "What harm can come from it." 
 
 But a little voice in his heart was speaking and 
 telling him that he had better say no before the 
 victory was fairly won. 
 
 He heard his name called by Bill Logan, and 
 hastened to ascertain what was wanted. 
 
 "Will," said he, "I never want you to learn to 
 play cards," as young New^ton entered the tent. 
 
 "Why not?" asked Will, wath a smile. 
 
 Reason enough ! said the other. I could tell you 
 a story about cards that you would not forget in a 
 hurry. 
 
 "Well, Bill ; I am very glad you spoke to me 
 when you did, although I guess I should have said 
 no if vou had not called me ; but I will confess 
 that I was having quite a little struggle in my 
 breast. But noAV I will lie down beside you on the 
 blankets while you tell me the story ; for I know 
 that I shall enjoy it very much. 
 
44 Will Newton^ 
 
 *'Well, I don't mind," said the other. ''I am not 
 much of a hand to spin a yarn, but will do the 
 best I can, and you will soon know why I advise 
 you and all other young men to let cards alone. 
 
 You know I began to follow the sea when I was 
 only ten years of age. For the first two years I 
 went as a cabin-boy ; and then thinking that I was 
 a man, I shipped before the mast, and went as 
 ordinary sailor. The forecastle was a rough, hard 
 place in those days, worse than it is now by a great 
 deal. I had not been there many months before I 
 could sing foolish songs, swear, chew tobacco, 
 drink a mug of New England rum, and play cards 
 with the best of them. 
 
 When I was about sixteen years old, I shipped 
 on board a large merchantman at New York, bound 
 for Liverpool. We had good officers, a fine crew, 
 and as noble a craft as ever crossed the Atlantic. 
 Among the crew was a young man about my own 
 age. He w^as a good sailor, a kind-hearted, steady- 
 going chap. When he was off duty, instead of 
 playing cards and drinking grog with the rest of us, 
 he used to read books and write letters. 
 
 He quickly earned the name of deacon, and was 
 soon called by that title by the whole crew, includ- 
 
The Young Volunteer. 45 
 
 ing the officers. He always answered to his name, 
 and never seemed disturbed about it. 
 
 Well, I used to coax the deacon to plav cards. 
 
 For a lono^ time he refused to give his consent, 
 but at last he yielded the point if I would teach him 
 how it was done. But, bless you. it was no work 
 to teach him, for he learned so easily that before the 
 end of the first week he could shuffle a pack of 
 cards like an old gambler. I took especial pains to 
 show him all the tricks of cheating in the various 
 games ; and it was not long before he could beat 
 me more than half the time. 
 
 The devil himself seemed to help the deacon 
 along, for I never knew a man to hold such hands 
 as he would. 
 
 Why, I have played with him for hours, and 
 when I would get a pair, he would have two pairs; 
 if I held the two pairs he would have threes ; when 
 I got threes of a kind he was sure to have fours, or 
 a straight, or a fiush, or something else that would 
 beat mine. 
 
 Having this remarkable luck, he became terribly 
 interested in the game. When I could not play 
 with him he would play with the other fellows. 
 
 4 
 
46 Will Newton^ 
 
 He no longer had any interest in his reading or 
 his writing, and I almost felt that he ought not to 
 be called deacon any more. 
 
 Before we reached Liverpool he was a completely 
 changed man, and I began to feel badly that I had 
 induced him to play. 
 
 From Liverpool we sailed for San Francisco. It 
 was a long, tedious voyage ; the weather was stormy 
 and the sea rough. Before we arrived in port my 
 messmate had become a confirmed gambler. He 
 also had learned to swear and drink rum. All his 
 spare time was spent at the cards. 
 
 It made my heart ache sometimes to pass by him 
 when he was playing, and hear the oaths fall from 
 his lips, and see the fire flash in his eyes. I tried to 
 reason with him but it was of no use. The cards 
 had captured him, soul and body. He only laughed 
 at mv fears. The whole crew admitted that the 
 deacon was the most skillful and respectable card- 
 player on board the ship. 
 
 While we were at San Francisco, the deacon got 
 permission one afternoon to go on shore for a few 
 hours. The next morning he had not returned. 
 Late in the day the old man sent three of us ashore 
 to see if we could find him. We visited the saloons 
 
The Young Volunteer. 47 
 
 and dens such as sailors usually frequent, but could 
 find no indications of our missing man. Late in 
 the evening, just as we were about to return to the 
 ship, we entered one of the worst saloons that I ever 
 visited, and as we passed into the back room, we 
 found a crowd of about fifty men, made up largely 
 of Spaniards, Italians and Mexicans, and the dea- 
 con was among them at a table playing blufi^with 
 three desperadoes. I saw at a glance that the dea- 
 con had been drinking. His face was flushed and 
 his eyes gleamed like coals of fire. 
 
 He saw us enter, but gave no sign of recognition. 
 The devil had evidently been favoring him, for he 
 had been winning large sums of money. Golden 
 coins were lingling in every pocket, and a large 
 yellow stack of them was piled up beside him. A 
 great sum of money was on the board, and they 
 were betting on their cards. 
 
 Two of the four had already dropped out. It 
 was now between the deacon and a desperate look- 
 ing Spaniard. The whole crowd were armed with 
 ;knives and pistols, and I trembled for our safety. 
 
 "I will raise you one hundred dollars," said the 
 deacon, as he flung a handful of doubloons on the 
 board. The Spaniard stealthily took a card from 
 
48 JVill Newton^ 
 
 beneath him on the chair, and repHed in broken 
 English, •'! sees your hundred, and goes one hun- 
 dred more." The deacon, with rare skill, slipped a 
 card from his sleeve, looked a moment, and said, 
 *'I will cover your money and raise you five hun- 
 dred dollars." 
 
 The Spaniard was staggered. He glanced first 
 at his own hand, and then at the almost livid coun- 
 tenance of his opponent. Five hundred dollars 
 would take all the money he possessed. It was but 
 for a moment that he hesitated, and fifty pieces of 
 gold were added to the pile upon the center of the 
 board. 
 
 '^I calls, what have you.-*" said the Spaniard. 
 
 "Fours," replied the deacon. 
 
 "Fours here, too," responded the other ; "and 
 queens at that I" 
 
 "Ah ! kings, here I" said the deacon, as he threw 
 four crowned heads upon the table, and then reached 
 forth his right hand to pull in the money. 
 
 The Spaniard looked like a demon, and drawing 
 a dagger, quicker than a flash, he drove the long, 
 glittering blade through the arm of my friend, pin- 
 ning it fast to the board upon which it had rested. 
 
The Tou?ig V^olu7ttee7'. 49 
 
 All was confusion. Pistol shots and yells filled 
 the room. I can only remember smashing a chair 
 over the Spaniard's head, and then all was dark. 
 
 When I awoke, I saw that I was in the same 
 room. I had been badly injured, and so were my 
 companions ; but worse than all the rest, my young 
 friend lay cold and lifeless upon the floor. A pistol 
 shot had passed through his heart. 
 
 The next day we buried him in the city, and as I 
 stood over his unmarked grave, I resolved that I 
 would never play another game of cards, or drink 
 another drop of liquor. 
 
 Many years have passed since then, and during 
 those years I have been in all parts of the world, 
 but I have never seen a single hour that I was not 
 glad that I had made that decision. And whenever 
 I see a young man or boy learning to play cards, I 
 always w^ant to tell them of the terrible danger that 
 slumbers in those harmless, innocent looking pieces 
 of paste board. That is the reason I do not w^ant 
 you to learn to play." 
 
 Will had been deeply affected by the story, and 
 again thanked his friend for his timely advice, and 
 solemnly pledged himself never to play cards even 
 for simple amusement. 
 
^O Wi7l Newton^ 
 
 Young Newton derived much pleasure during- 
 those weeks from his correspondence. There was- 
 scarcely a man who received as many letters as did 
 he ; and whenever the bugle call, "fall in for mail" 
 was heard, Will was always among the most anx- 
 ious for it to arrive ; and nearly every day, one or 
 more letters was received. Many of them came 
 from the Lamb family, and one at least each week 
 written in a coarse, sprawling hand, signed, — Your 
 friend, Jerry Lamb. 
 
 In return he wrote his friends in Maplewood full 
 description of his army life, and also of the country 
 in which they w^ere encamped. These letters w^ere 
 eagerly read by his old friends ; and one letter in 
 which he had spoken of his zeal for the prosecution 
 of the w^ar, and of his love for the country, was taken 
 into the pulpit and read aloud to the people by 
 the pastor. 
 
 Young Newton was a most excellent penman, 
 and that fact added much to the amount of labor he 
 was called upon to perform. He was frequently 
 called to the captain's tent to assist in making up 
 the company rolls. While there, he was brought 
 into contact with many of the officers, and before 
 many weeks had passed, there was not a non-com- 
 
The Toung Volunteer, ^f 
 
 missioned officer in the regiment who had so- 
 extensive an acquaintance as that enjoyed by Will 
 Newton. He was so prompt in performing all his- 
 duties, so polite and pleasing in his manners, that he 
 became a general favorite with all who knew him. 
 
 There were a number of men in his company 
 who could not write, and these soon learned to go 
 to Will for assistance ; and he gladly employed his 
 rapid skillful pen in writing letters for them. 
 
 Among those who thus came to him for help was 
 the young fellow who had assaulted him in the large 
 tent, on that memorable Sabbath evening, in the 
 city of D — ; also, several of those who united with 
 him in that brutal attack, came for the same pur- 
 pose. These were the same who had endeavored 
 to ridicule him but a few weeks ago for reading 
 the Bible aloud in his tent. But they never referred 
 to those matters, and Will was glad to assist them, 
 and secure their friendship. 
 
 One evening he had been engaged to write a 
 letter for his old enemy, whose name was Bob 
 Stacy, to his mother, who then resided in Boston. 
 The letter was completed, and read aloud for Bob's 
 approval or disapproval. But unlike his usual 
 custom. Bob was silent. 
 
52 VFi/l Neivton^ 
 
 "What is the trouble Bob," queried the writer; 
 "Are you not satisfied with it?" 
 
 "Oh! it is not that," said the other, — "but do 
 vou know Will, what I was thinking about?" 
 
 "Of course not, how can I read your thoughts" 
 said Will. 
 
 "Well, sir; I was thinking how proud my poor 
 old mother in Bostoit would be, if she had a son 
 who could write a letter like that," and as he spoke, 
 his coarse voice became a little husky, — "And I 
 was also thinking^ how misrhtv mean I have treated 
 you, and am now obliged to depend upon you to 
 write for me my letters," — and the rough chin 
 quivered as he spoke. 
 
 "O, never mind about that. Bob ; I had forgotten 
 all about it ; and upon the whole I do not know but 
 that Bill Logan and I ought to apologize to you for 
 the blow I save vou in the tent, and for the horse- 
 whipping he gave you here." 
 
 Bob's face did not lose its doleful look as he con- 
 tinued, — "You both served me just right ; but Will, 
 I have been thinking for se^'eral days that I wanted 
 to do better. I have watched you, and I believe 
 you get along easier than I do, and have more 
 friends. I want to be and to do like vou ; and 
 
The Tou7tg Volunteer. 53 
 
 before you seal the letter, ^^^rite at the bottom of the 
 page to mother, that I am going to try and be a 
 better man ;" and as he wiped the tears from his eyes, 
 he added, "ask her to pray for her j^oor wicked boy 
 that he may do better." 
 
 Will was not only surprised, but delighted to 
 hear these \\'ords from his old tormentor. He 
 encouraged Bob, and invited him to visit his tent 
 each evening, and listen while he read a chapter 
 from the Bible. 
 
 When he informed Bill Loofan of v^'hat had taken 
 place, the latter w^as speechless for a •moment, then 
 discharging a large quantity of tobacco juice from 
 his lips, remarked, — "It beats the world how you 
 have conquered that fellow. Nothing outside of 
 the Scriptures compares w^th it. I declare it 
 reminds me of that yarn in the Old Testament, 
 where that young Noah, who left his flock of sheep, 
 and hid in the basket of bulrushes, and laid out the 
 old Giant Goliah"— 
 
 Bill's speech was interrupted by the loud laughter 
 of Will, who informed him that his Scripture was 
 sadly mixed. 
 
 "Well, perhaps so," said Bill ; "it is manyyears 
 since I used to box the Scriptural compass in the 
 
54 Wz7l Newton, 
 
 Sunday-school, and have probably lost the regular 
 
 points." 
 
 Thus the days passed, and when the first of 
 July came. Will had learned not only to be a soldier, 
 but had found his way to the hearts and good 
 wishes of his comnianding officers, and also of the 
 comrades in his company. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Federal Army was preparing for a battle. 
 The Confederates were entrenched at Manassas, 
 just beyond the Bull Run stream. The Union 
 forces under the command of General McDowell, 
 were moving forward to give them battle. Will, in 
 common with all the young men in his regiment, 
 was anxious to meet the Confederates. They of 
 course knew nothing of war ; nothing about the 
 scenes and experiences of the battle field ; nothing 
 in relation to the brave, stubborn men w4iom they 
 were to encounter upon the red fields of war. 
 
 It was on the 2ist of July. There had been a 
 skirmish the previous evening, and to-day the great 
 battle was to be fought. Will's regiment was near 
 the extreme right of the Union army, and was to 
 cross Bull Run stream at the upper bridge, or 
 ford. 
 
 It w^as an exciting morning in the life of our 
 hero. How eagerly he watched all the preliminary 
 
^6 Will N'ewfofi, 
 
 movements of the Union army. The long lines of 
 infantry moving at a rapid gait along the roads, and 
 across the fields ; squadrons of cavalry dashing in 
 almost every direction ; batteries of artillery, vv^ith 
 six horses attached to each gun, and the same num- 
 ber to each ammunition wagon thundering along 
 the roads ; officers with their escorts riding rapidly 
 to overtake their respective commands ; ambulances, 
 baggage wagons, sutler's wagons ; horses led by 
 scores of colored men bearing officers baggage. 
 
 It w^as a scene of great confusion to Will, and he 
 wondered how any one commander could bring 
 svstem and order out of such chaos. 
 
 The stream was finally crossed, and in the intense 
 heat, the battle lines began to form. Will could 
 now see but little of what was transpiring ; but 
 within the narrow scope of his vision, he watched 
 intently all that was taking place. 
 
 In front of the field where his regiment was 
 halted, a skirmish line was formed, consisting of 
 men who had been detailed from the various regi- 
 ments for that purpose. These men were stationed 
 about twenty feet apart, and at the word of com- 
 mand, moved forward promptly and at a rapid rate 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 5^ 
 
 through the under-brush in front of the Union Hne 
 of battle. 
 
 Will knew that these men had been sent forward 
 to develop or uncover the enemy's position, and 
 that the conflict would soon open. Anxiously 
 he watched the advancing skirmishers, as he caught 
 occasional glimpses of their blue forms gliding 
 through the bushes. Suddenly he saw a puff' of 
 Avhite smoke ; the sharp crack of a rifle came ring- 
 ing upon the air ; then, crack I crack I crack ! came 
 from the skirmishers' rifles all along the line, like 
 a cluster of fire-crackers. A little cloud of blue 
 smoke rose above the under-brush. Then rifle 
 shots, humming like bees, went through the air 
 over Will's head. The sound of a scattering volley 
 from beyond the Union skirmishers gave them the 
 information that the battle had be^an. 
 
 Intently did Will listen to these fearful sounds, 
 and frequently he dodged, as a Confederate shot 
 whistled in dangerous proximitv to his head. There 
 was a fearful and unexpected crash behind him. A 
 terrible screech was heard in the air. For a 
 moment, Will thought that the whole Southern 
 Confederacy had broken loose in the air above him ;, 
 crash after crash came in rapid succession, while 
 
58 Will Newton, 
 
 the atmosphere seemed ahve with yelling, screech- 
 ing demons. 
 
 Our friend quickly learned that a battery of 
 artillery had gone into position behind him, and 
 was hurling its rifled shells at the enemy. The 
 men cheered as the shells crashed above them and 
 a faint yell was heard upon the skirmish line, as 
 the blue coats advanced and pressed their opponents 
 back. 
 
 This seeming advantage ^vas only for a moment ; 
 for soon the Union skirmishers were obliged to 
 return to their former position, Avhile the Confed- 
 erate bullets came more rapidly than before. ^ Soon 
 a huge shell went plowing into the ground just in 
 front of Will's company, and exploding, sent a 
 shower of dirt all over the men. 
 
 There were many pale cheeks along the line, and 
 but a few could muster a smile as Bill Logan 
 muttered, "Hope they will tack ship before they 
 fire again." 
 
 The battle had been raging for some time at 
 different points along the line, and now the brigade 
 of which Will's regiment "was a portion, moved 
 forward to take part in the conflict. Will's heart 
 beat more rapidly than usual as they advanced 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 59 
 
 directly towards the Confederate battery. They 
 could not see the enemy, but the whistling shots 
 and horrible shells, bore ample testimony to their 
 immediate presence. 
 
 Gallantly, with well dressed lines they moved 
 forward, the skirmish line still moving in the 
 advance. They marched in this manner for nearly 
 a mile, when they came in sight of the Confederate 
 line of battle, upon an eminence almost a mile 
 distant. The Confederates also discovered them, 
 and turned all the guns of their battery upon the 
 blue column. 
 
 For some reason, the line was ordered to halt, and 
 lie down upon the ground. This was quickly done ; 
 but Will and his comrades found themselves in an 
 unpleasant and embarrassing position. The skir- 
 mishers were shooting at each other in the front ; 
 but thev could onlv fire at random, with as o^reat a 
 probability of hitting their own men, as they were 
 the Confederates. The latter's line of battle was 
 bevond the rang-e of their cruns. The Confederate 
 artillery was making sad havoc with the Union 
 men. The Union batteries were returning their 
 fire, and shells passed and repassed above the 
 shrinking- forms within the Union line, while many 
 
6o IVi'll Newton^ 
 
 of those from the Confederate guns, fell near, or 
 within their ranks. 
 
 Will, pale and frightened, was listening to the 
 awful roar, when a huge shell burst in the air 
 just above them, hurling its missiles of death in 
 every direction. Several men were injured. Will 
 raised his head to see who the victims were, and 
 was horrified to behold his friend. Bob Stacy, in the 
 agonies of death. A huge piece of the ragged iron 
 had tcnn through his shoulder in such a manner, 
 that life could lingfer in the shattered tenement but 
 for a moment. Will rushed to his side, bending 
 over the dying man. 
 
 Bob was conscious, and recognized his friend. 
 ''I am going, Will." he hoarsely whispered, and 
 putting his cold weak arms with a convulsive effort 
 around Will's neck, he whispered, — • -Write to my 
 mother that her pravers were answered." A 
 shudder, and Bob Stacy was dead. 
 
 Will forgot all the dangerous surroundings, and 
 for a few moments sat by the cold form, clasping 
 his hands, while the tears poured down his face. 
 ''Too bad ! Too bad !" he murmured, •'! shall miss 
 him so much." 
 
> 
 
 H 
 
 w 
 c 
 
 !^ 
 
 
 CO 
 
 
 'I 
 
 I 
 
The Toting Volunteer. 6i 
 
 These reveries were suddenly interrupted by the 
 cry, '''' Fall inl fall inl foivardl guide center,, 
 double quick., march T' They were to charge upon 
 the Confederate battery. It is quite impossible for 
 my pen to describe the sensations which passed 
 through Will's mind as they made that grand, wild 
 charge across the tield, and up the hill on whose 
 crest the guns were planted. The line of battle, as 
 is usually the case, was very much broken up ; offi- 
 cers were shouting their commands ; the men were 
 cheering and yelling like so many mad men ; shells 
 were crashing among them ; there was groaning, 
 praying, swearing and dying. 
 
 Bravely the thin, shattered line pressed onward. 
 Will had thrown avv'ay everything but his gun and 
 equipments, and being a swift runner, he kept well 
 up with the foremost of his comrades. They climbed 
 the hill-side, and with a cheer sprang towards the 
 battery where guns were still vomiting fire and 
 death. Will, beside himself with excitement, sprang 
 up to one of the guns, and shot down the officer 
 who was in command. 
 
 At that moment a line of gray infantrymen, who 
 up to this time had been unobserved by the Union 
 men^ arose to their feet and poured a destructive fire 
 
62 Will Newto7i^ 
 
 upon the assailants. The Union line staggered and 
 the survivors were hurled down the hill and back 
 over the plain. The shattered remnants of the reg- 
 iment could not be rallied until they had fallen back 
 to the position they had occupied when the battle 
 opened in the morning. 
 
 The conflict w^as still raging with varying results. 
 Early in the afternoon Will's regiment was again 
 ordered forward. They had advanced but a little 
 distance, w^hen our friend ^vith a number of other 
 men in the company, were detailed to go out and 
 re-inforce the skirmish line. As they thus advanced 
 in front of the line of battle. Will heard a loud 
 shout, and saw Union men hastening to the rear on 
 the right and left. He did not know enough about 
 w^ar to ask himself the question what that indicated, 
 but ran on as fast as he could go. He soon looked 
 over his shoulder to ascertain how far he \vas in ad- 
 vance of the line of battle, when, to his surprise, he 
 found that it had vanished, and around him he could 
 see Union men hastening to the rear. He w^aited a 
 few moments to ascertain, if possible, v^diat it all 
 meant, until he found that he was left almost alone 
 upon tliat portion of the battle field. Then deciding 
 
The Yoimg V^olu7iteer. 63 
 
 that some change had been made in the phin of the 
 battle, he went back in search of his regiment. 
 
 As he was thus slowly making his way to the 
 rear, for he was very weary, he saw a group of 
 gray horsemen dash out from behind a clump of 
 underbrush and gallop toward him. Then he be- 
 gan to run. The horsemen soon disappeared from 
 view. At a rapid pace, Will continued his way 
 to the rear in search of his regiment, which he ex- 
 pected to find every moment. But to his great sur- 
 prise, he did not find any body of organized troops 
 whatever ; and every soldier whom he saw was 
 moving in the same direction with himself. He 
 could not understand what it meant that men and 
 teams should be hastening back towards Bull Run. 
 
 A tall zouave in a splendid uniform, but evidently 
 much demoralized, was dashing past Will to the 
 rear at a three minute gait, and Newton accosted 
 him with, — "Say, comrade, w4iat does all this mean ; 
 wdiere are all these men going?" 
 
 The tall zouave stopped and looked upon the 
 questioner with a countenance expressive of pity 
 and contempt, and replied, "Mean.? why it means 
 that we are licked out of our boots ! Mean.? it 
 means that we are running for our lives, and that 
 
64 Wi7l Newton^ 
 
 the rebels will be here in less than three minutes to 
 gobble us all up, and I advise you to git up and git 
 or you will be taken prisoner," and on he ran. 
 
 The whole situation, now for the first time, flashed 
 upon Will's mind. The battle had been fought and 
 lost by the Federal army, and now they were all in 
 full retreat from the field. 
 
 A retreat from the battle field is one of the most 
 thrilling events in the history of armies. When the 
 retreat becomes a panic, and the officers have no 
 (iontrol over the men, it becomes an indescribable 
 scene. 
 
 It was one of these events in its most awful aspect 
 that burst upon the vision of W^ill Newton, as he 
 made his way towards the Bull Run stream. The 
 surface of the country was quite level, and as the 
 fences had been torn down, there were no formida- 
 ble barriers to prevent men and horses from moving 
 across the fields in any direction. 
 
 There were at least half a dozen roads leading 
 from the battle field upon the Federal right, to the 
 upper bridge which crossed the stream. These roads 
 w^ere all crowded with teams, three or four of them 
 abreast, rushing along regardless of frequent collis- 
 ion, each intent on reaching the bridge at the earli- 
 
The 7'ou)ig Vohinteei'. (y^ 
 
 est possible moment. Artillery, baggage wagons and 
 iimbulances, all struggling in the wildest confusion. 
 Across the fields, other teams came tearing along, 
 and plunged into the living mass, adding confusion 
 and terror to the already confused and terrified mass. 
 The horses seemed to have caught the panic, or the 
 inspiration of flight, and with flashing eyes and dis- 
 tended nostrils, dashed onward at the highest possi- 
 ble rate of speed. Their drivers, beside themselves 
 with fear, shouted at the top of their voices and 
 plied the v^^hip with great vigor. The infantry ha4 
 lost all semblance of an organization, and brave 
 men who had on that day faced death fearlessly, 
 were being borne backward by the terrible panic 
 that reigned supreme. 
 
 For some reason the whole army was panic stricken 
 and flying from a field that they had nearly won. 
 
 In the midst of all this excitement, a baggage 
 « 
 wagon was overturned near the bridge. Immedi- 
 ately three or four others crashed upon it, thus filling 
 and blocking the passage with a huge mass of ruins. 
 Then followed a scene which beggars all descrip- 
 tion. Men, horses and wagons were heaped up in 
 one great mass. Other teams dashed upon them, 
 •only to add to the horrors of the awful scene. Team- 
 
66 Will Newton^ 
 
 sters in the rear, and others who were in the sur- 
 rounding fields, now cut their horses loose from the 
 wagons, guns and caissons, leaving them as spoils 
 for the victorious Confederates. The horses plung- 
 ing into the stream, swam to the opposite bank. 
 Many of the riders were dismounted in the panic, 
 and scores of noble horses dashed in almost every 
 direction across the field. 
 
 It is not strange that Will Newton, too, caught 
 the panic. He threw away his gun, then his equip- 
 ments, and when Bull Run was reached, he was 
 making as rapid time as the fleetest. He saw at a 
 glance that there was no hope of crossing upon the 
 bridge, so he plunged into the sluggish, muddy 
 water and swam across. Sitting dow^n for a mo- 
 ment upon the bank, he took off* his wet shoes and 
 stockings, and resumed his retreat barefooted, fear- 
 ing that he was not getting along as fast as the ex- 
 iofencies of the case demanded. He threw ofl' his 
 cap and blouse and continued his flight with renewed 
 
 vigor. 
 
 It is a wonderful fact that under such circum- 
 stances, a man becomes utterly oblivious to every 
 thing else but his flight. Newton had no concep- 
 tion of the passage of time, the distance he had! 
 
The Young Volu?iteer. 67" 
 
 run, the direction in which he was running, or the 
 fact that he had not seen a single Federal or Con- 
 federate soldier for the last two hours. 
 
 As he was climbing a high Virginia fence, he 
 chaYiced to notice that the sun was passing from 
 view behind the western hills. To his great sur- 
 prise there were no Confederates within sight. His 
 bare feet were bleeding profusely ; his clothes were 
 wet, and great drops of perspiration were dropping 
 from his face. He was very hungry, and so com- 
 pletely exhausted that he could only with difficulty 
 climb the fence upon which he sat. As he consid- 
 ered his situation, he involuntarily muttered to him- 
 self, '^What a fool I am !" But something n^st be 
 done. Night Avas rapidly approaching. He must 
 have some food, and endeavor to find his regiment. 
 
 There was a small farm house not far from where 
 Will was sitting, and he determined to visit it and 
 try to purchase some food. He mustered all the 
 courage he could command and advanced towards 
 the house. But he presented a rather sorry figure 
 as he limped along the foot-path leading to the door of 
 the house. His approach was announced in genuine 
 Virginian style by the barking of half a dozen dogs 
 and by the shouts of an many little negroes, who 
 
68 Will Neivton, 
 
 laughed, rolled their eyes and displayed their white 
 teeth as Newton passed b}- them. 
 
 The owner of the establishment sat upon his ve- 
 randa smoking a corn cob pipe. 
 
 "•Good evening, sir ;" quoth Will, as he stood be- 
 fore the Virginian. 
 
 "Evening, sir ;" was the only reply. 
 
 "I am a stranger," continued Newton, "I am 
 hungry and tired, and have come to purchase some 
 food." 
 
 "I reckon bv vour looks that you are one of Lin- 
 coin's soldiers," responded the owner of the house. 
 
 "Yes, sir;" replied Will, and then the following 
 little dialogue took place : 
 
 "Where have you been.''" 
 
 "Over to Bull Run." 
 
 "Has there been a fight.'" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Who beat.?" 
 
 "The Confederates, sir." 
 
 "Well, that is good news. And what are you 
 fellows down here for, anyway, stranger.?" 
 
 "To save the Union." 
 
 "All nonsense ! Old Lincoln has just got you 
 down here to run oft' our niororers. and nothing" else. 
 
 
The 7'oung V^olunteer. 69 
 
 I would like to string him up to a tree I" ejaculated 
 the irate Virginian. 
 
 "Will you sell me some food?" questioned Will, 
 as the other stopped to take breath. 
 
 "No, I won't !" thundered the other. "I will see 
 you and every other nigger hunter in the whole 
 Yankee army starve first ! Feed you ? I would 
 rather hang you, or shoot you like a dog !" rising to 
 his feet. 
 
 During this conversation, Will Newton had been 
 revolving in his mind as to the best course for him 
 to pursue under the unlooked for circumstances, and 
 concluded that he would put on a bold front and 
 "beard the lion in his den." 
 
 "O, well," said he, "don't get mad. I only 
 came to get some food, for which I was willing to 
 pay you ; but if you are not disposed to let me have 
 it I will return to the regiment and tell the officers 
 about you. Perhaps Mr. Lincoln will want to see 
 you at W^ashington ; at any rate, the colonel, after 
 hearing what you have just said, will be quite will- 
 ing to send a guard, and escort you to Washington 
 charged with uttering disloyal sentiments." 
 
 The man's appearance immediately changed. His 
 bravado all vanished ; and in a much more humble 
 
7© Will Newton^ 
 
 tone of voice he responded, "Well, well, if you 
 wanted food, why didn't you say so when you first 
 came, and not make all this fuss standing there talk- 
 ing politics with me? You sit down here, and I 
 will go in and see about your supper." 
 
 The Virginian bustled away to have some food 
 prepared. 
 
 As that worthy disappeared, the young negroes 
 gathered nearer to where Will sat upon the veranda, 
 and the oldest of the group, a jet-black bright look- 
 ing boy of some twelve years of age, asked Will, 
 "Am you a Linkum soger, sah.^'" 
 
 "Yes, I am," replied Will. 
 
 "Don't quite see how dat am, sah," responded 
 the little darkey. 
 
 "Why," demanded Newton. 
 
 "Case, sah, de old massa whom have just gone 
 into de house, told 'is nigger dis day, dat de dam 
 Yankee sogers of Linkum all had horns and hoofs 
 like old Satan hisself, and dat dey would kill and 
 eat us all, if dey only cotched us " 
 
 Will Newton could not refrain from laughing 
 outright, as he saw the earnestness of the little 
 fellow, and the fear pictured on the face of each 
 one of the children who stood before him. He had 
 
The Young Volunteer. *]\ 
 
 not time however, to disabuse the minds of the 
 litttle ones before him, but inquired of the boy if 
 there were any horses in the barn. 
 
 "Three, sah ; but don't tell de ole massa dat I 
 told you, for he would raise de very debble wid dis 
 chile if he knowed it." 
 
 Further conversation was here interrupted by the 
 host who reported that some supper was ready for 
 the guest. 
 
 Will Newton entered the house and sat down to 
 a meal of fried bacon, corn-dodgers and milk. It 
 is quite needless to state that he did ample justice 
 to the meal. Whole battalions of the corn cakes 
 disappeared before him with a most wonderful 
 rapidity. 
 
 As he was thus devouring the food, and during 
 the temporary absence of the host, the old negress 
 who was officiating as cook, came to his side and 
 pressing her bony, wrinkled hand upon his head, 
 murmured, "De Lord bress de honey; de Lord 
 bress him." 
 
 When his appetite was fully appeased. Will paid 
 for his supper, and carelessly remarked, — "My feet 
 are very sore ; have you any horses in your barn V^ 
 
 "Not a horse," was the reply. 
 
72 Wy// Newton^ 
 
 Will paid no attention to the answer, but con- 
 tinued, — "I^ave to go a long distance to-night, it 
 is not possible for me to walk. I know that you 
 have horses in your barn ; let me have one, and I 
 will return him safely to you by to-morrow noon.'* 
 
 "No, sir ! I won't do it," was the decided answer. 
 
 "Just as you please, sir ;" said Newton. "But you 
 need not be surprised if a squad of men should 
 come and take all your horses without asking your 
 leave." 
 
 Again the owner of the house was sensibly 
 affected, and replied, "Well, w^e vs^ill have no 
 trouble ; I believe you are an honest kind of a 
 fellow if you are a Yankee, and I will let my man 
 Sam ride with you to bring the horse back, if you 
 will promise faithfully to treat me honestly in the 
 matter." 
 
 Newton, of course, gladly gave the desired 
 promise, and soon Sam, a stout negro, rode around 
 to the door on horse-back, leading another horse 
 upon which Will was to ride. He paid a liberal 
 price for the accommodation, bade his host good 
 night, and in the gathering gloom commenced his 
 ride with Sam as a companion. 
 
, The young Volunteer. 73 
 
 The night was dark, and their advance was 
 necessarily very slow. Newton had no' idea of the 
 region and was obliged to depend upon his com- 
 panion to lead the way. 
 
 "To what place do you think we had better go?" 
 asked Will. 
 
 "Reckon sah, dat de Yanks am fell back towards 
 Centerville" replied Sam. 
 
 So on they rode. It was a tedious ride for 
 Newton, but Sam told stories about hunting possum, 
 and sang plantation songs until his companion 
 laughed in spite of all his misfortunes. 
 
 The hours passed slowly away, and when day- 
 light dawned they were in the midst of the strag-^ 
 glers from the Federal army. On every hand were 
 evidences of the terrible defeat. All discipline was- 
 gone, and every man was tramping towards 
 Washington upon ''his own hook," as rapidly as he 
 could go. 
 
 When Will Newton found himself once more 
 with thex^Union army, a deep sense of mortificatioi^ 
 and shame oppressed him for the manner in which 
 he had ran from the battle field ; and when at noon 
 he found the remnant of his regiment, dismissed 
 his guide, and was welcomed by his old friend, 
 
74 Will Newton^ 
 
 Bill Logan, that feeling weighed upon him more 
 keenly. He had forgotten the fact that the regi- 
 ment had fled from the field before he left it. 
 
 His comrades welcomed him as one returned 
 from the dead ; for they thought he had been killed, 
 or taken prisoner by the enemy. Many of the men 
 in his company had been killed or wounded ; and 
 quite a number were among the missing. To his 
 great joy, he found that his tent-mate, Bill Logan, 
 had escaped uninjured. 
 
 While exchanging salutations, a message was 
 received that Will Newton was wanted immediately 
 at the captain's tent. Oh, now ! thought Will, I 
 am in for it ; but I deserve it all. So cow^ardly in 
 me to run away as I did ! and with a downcast 
 look he stood before his captain. 
 
 "Newton," said the latter, "I saw your conduct 
 in the battle yesterday," (I deserve all that is com- 
 ing, thought Will.) "and I must say that I was 
 surprised" continued the captain. (I don't wonder 
 that you were, thought Will.) "Yes," continued 
 the captain, "you charged upon that gun like a 
 veteran. I believe you are the bravest man in my 
 company. I esteemed you highly before, but 
 never thought you had such courage. To-night, at 
 
The Toung Volu7iteer. ^^ 
 
 dress parade, your name will be read as being pro- 
 moted to a sergeantcy for bravery on the field of 
 battle. How does that suit you?" 
 
 "Oh, captain," murmured Will, "I am not 
 worthy of it. Give it to some braver and more 
 worthy man, for I ran away from the battle and 
 disgraced myself forever." 
 
 "You ran away.^ I should think you did! The 
 last I saw of you was when our regiment being 
 flanked, broke and ran. You was out on the 
 skirmish line makinor straight for Richmond on 
 the double-quick." 
 
 "Oh, well; but sir, after that I ran the other way 
 and did not stop until sunset." And Will gave the 
 captain the particulars of his retreat, and the 
 adventures through which he had pased. 
 
 "That is all right, my boy, you were not to 
 blame for running when you had to face the whole 
 Confederate army alone. I am well pleased with 
 your behavior, and now. Sergeant Newton, return 
 to the company and do all in your power to assist 
 in re-organizing the men ; for they are all sadly 
 demoralized." 
 
 That night, when the company marched in from 
 dress parade, and broke ranks, three cheers were 
 
76 W/H Newton. 
 
 given for Sergeant Newton, followed by a rousing 
 tiger from the stalwart lungs of Bill Logan. 
 
 Thus ended the first battle of our young volun- 
 teer. And that night, long after his comrades were 
 asleep, he sat by the little camp-fire and wrote a 
 full account of the whole aftair to his friends at the 
 Lamb homestead, in the village of Maplewood. 
 
 When the epistle had reached its destination, and 
 had been read for the third time by our old friend 
 Jerry, he closed the letter and prophesied, — ""That 
 lad will be a gfeneral before the war is over." 
 
 One of the first duties attended to 1)y Will after 
 he returned to his regiment, was to write a long 
 letter to ]Mrs. Stacy, in Boston, informing her of 
 the death of her son, and also giving her full partic- 
 ulars of the change in his life, and the tender 
 message to her breathed from his dying Hps. 
 
 Thus ended the first battle ; and its vivid and 
 keen sensations of pain and pleasure made so deep 
 an impression upon Will's mind, that all succeeding 
 events and conflicts did not obliterate them from, 
 his memory. e 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Winter came, and with it also came heavy storms 
 of rain and wind; the roads were impassable, so 
 that armies could not move, and the troops immedi- 
 ately went into winter quarters. Little huts were 
 built of logs and covered with canvas cloth, having 
 within a small fire-place made of sods and sticks. 
 They were neither convenient nor elegant ; but 
 within them many happy hours were passed. Will 
 Newton and Bill Logan still occupied the same 
 tent, and were almost inseparable companions. 
 
 There was much sickness in camp during the 
 months of December and January, and Sergeant 
 Newton was tireless in his efibrts to look after, and 
 care for the sick and dying. The chaplain of the 
 regiment being absent from his post on account of 
 sickness, there was no one whose special duty it 
 was to look after the spiritual wants of the sick. 
 Young Newton passed hours each day in his com- 
 pany reading the Bible, writing letters, and 
 o 
 
78 Will Newton, 
 
 conversing with sick comrades. This fact was 
 soon discovered by other companies, and he received 
 many calls to visit the suffering outside of his own 
 immediate comrades. So far as it was possible for 
 him to do so, he answered every summons, and 
 went like a ministering angel to alleviate suffering. 
 
 One day he was called to visit a soldier whom 
 they thought was dying. When Will entered the 
 low damp tent, he was much impressed with the 
 rare beauty of the frail young patient before him, 
 lying in an almost helpless condition upon the 
 ground. As Newton knelt beside him and gently 
 brushed back the chestnut curls from his brow, the 
 poor fellow gasped, "Do you think that I am 
 dying?" and he wept like a child. Will soon dis- 
 covered that the invalid had no one to care for hirn ; 
 the surgeons had given up his case as hopeless, 
 and he had thus been left to die. Our hero quickly 
 made up his mind as to the course of action he 
 should pursue. He left the invalid and hastened 
 to the tent of the commanding officer of that com- 
 pany. ^ 
 
 He met the captain at the door, and with a 
 salute he said, "I am Sergeant Newton of Co. — ; 
 there is a yoiuig man in your com.pany very sick. 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 79 
 
 The surgeons say he must die ; but I think that if I 
 had him in my own tent, where he could have 
 proper treatment, he would recover. Will you con- 
 sent that I may remove him." 
 
 The officer was a coarse, profane man with but 
 little of the "milk of human kindness" about him, 
 and to the surprise of Will answered, '"No! he 
 shall not leav'e the company unless he is taken to 
 the hospital." 
 
 But our friend was not discouraged at this rebuff, 
 and hastening to the surgeon placed the matter 
 before him ; but the latter hesitated, fearing that it 
 would be a breach of military courtesy to remove the 
 man against the captain's wishes. 
 
 Then Will went to the colonel and related to 
 him all the fiicts in the case. As the colonel 
 listened to the eloquent w^ords of the thoroughly 
 interested advocate, his eyes moistened, and before 
 he had completed his story, the officer interrupted 
 him by saying, "Come wdth me, and I \vill see w^ho 
 commands this regiment. Orderly, tell the surgeon 
 to accompany me." 
 
 Down across the parade-ground, almost at a double- 
 quick went the colonel, the surgeon, and Sergeant 
 Newton. The former knocked at the door of the 
 
8o Will Newton, 
 
 captain's tent until the whole structure shook, 
 "Captain, come with me," ordered the colonel, and 
 that dum-founded officer could only obey. 
 
 Will led the way to the little tent where the 
 sufferer was gasping for breath. The colonel, with 
 the skill of a veteran, arranged a blanket for a couch ; 
 tenderly they laid the sick youth upon it, and order- 
 ing the surgeon and the captain to carr}^ the burden, 
 he and Will led the way to the cheerful tent of 
 the latter, where the sick man was placed upon the 
 soft comfortable bed. 
 
 "There, sergeant," remarked the colonel, "do 
 all you can for him ; and surgeon, you will visit 
 this tent at least twice each day, and more frequently 
 if you are sent for. Captain, return to your com- 
 pany and give more attention to your sick men, or 
 I shall be compelled to ask the Governor to put a 
 better man in command of your company." He 
 gave money to the sergeant, and instructing him to 
 call at his tent and inform him how the patient got 
 along, took his departure. 
 
 Bill Logan's sympathies were at once enlisted in 
 behalf of the sick man, and he rendered most effici- 
 ent service to the young nurse. Days passed before 
 the young man became conscious, and it was a long 
 
The Tou7ig Voluntec.}'. 8i 
 
 time before he could fully understand where he was, 
 and how he came to be there. Rest assured that he 
 was very grateful to his benefactor. Will prepared 
 food in such a skillful and attractive manner, that it 
 •tempted the appetite of his patient, and thus 
 gradually he gained strengtl i and was won back to 
 life. 
 
 There was something mysterious about him which 
 Will could not understand. He never spoke of his 
 family, his friends, or any of his former associates. 
 He never received any letters, and so far as any 
 mention of his former life was concerned, it was all 
 a blank. He was evidently about twenty years of 
 -age, and gave signs of being well educated, and of 
 having moved in the best of society. Newton w^as 
 too much of a gentleman to ask him any questions ; 
 but he often wondered about the young man's 
 former history, and the events connected with his 
 enlistment. , 
 
 They were sitting together alone in the tent one 
 evening, Bill Logan being out on picket, when the 
 young man, whose name was John Wright, thus 
 .addressed his benefactor: "Newton, I am to return 
 to my company to-morrow. I am indebted to you 
 for my life, and I feel that before I leave you, I 
 
82 Will Newton^ 
 
 should tell you some things about myself. I do this 
 in justice to you for your kindness to me ; and I 
 feel that it will be a great relief to have some one 
 to share with me my secret and burden, so I will 
 tell you in confidence what no other person in the 
 regiment knows. My true name is not John Wright,, 
 but Harry Temple. My family who reside in Lowell^ 
 Mass., know nothing of my whereabouts, or even 
 of my existence." 
 
 Will looked much surprised at this revelation, but 
 motioned for his companion to go on. 
 
 "My father," he continued, "is one of the 
 wealthiest merchants in that city. We have art 
 elegant home ; my mother and sister, together with 
 father and myself, constitute the family. I was 
 graduated from the high school and academy when 
 seventeen years of age, and immediately entered 
 Harvard College. At the close of my second year 
 in college, I came home wanting to enlist. My 
 parents and sister would not give their consent. I 
 TDecame angry and dissatisfied and thought my lot 
 in life a hard one. At college I had learned to 
 drink beer and smoke cigars. My father one day 
 saw me enter a saloon ; he followed me and found 
 me drinking with boon companions. That night,. 
 
The Yon 77 g Volunteer. S3 
 
 when I returned to my home, he gave me a severe 
 reprimand. I became desperate, and possessed with 
 some evil genius, I arose at midnight, silently left 
 the house, fled from the city, and under an 
 assumed name enlisted in this regiment, which 
 was on the point of departure from the State. I 
 have never heard from home since then. They of 
 course know not whether I am living or dead." 
 
 "Why do you not inform them where you are.^" 
 questioned Will. 
 
 "I do not want to do that. I am ashamed to let 
 them know where I am for I have outragfed and 
 abused them so much. Had it not been for your 
 kindness, I should have died and no trace of my 
 identity w^ould have remained behind me." 
 
 "Do you like a soldier's life?" asked Will. 
 
 "I should," said the Other, "if I was only strong 
 and w^ell ; but I am not. I have been sick all the 
 time since I came to Virginia, although I remained 
 on duty until within a few days before you found 
 me." 
 
 Will was silent and thoughtful, he was convinced 
 that his companion was too delicate to endure the 
 hardships of a soldier's life ; but how could he 
 secure a furlough or a discharge for him } He 
 
84 Will Newton^ 
 
 knew that he had nothing to hope from the captain 
 of Harry's company, or from the surgeon of the 
 regiment. He thought of his friend, the colonel, 
 and he resolved to place the matter before him on 
 the morrow. 
 
 At an early hour on the following morning, he 
 w^as seated in the colonel's tent, and told him the 
 wdiole story as it had been related to him by young 
 Temple. 
 
 "The young rascal!" muttered the officer, as 
 Will concluded his narrative. "And you are 
 satisfied that he cannot endure the hardships and 
 exposure of a soldier's life are you ?" 
 
 "I am sir," replied Will. 
 
 "Well, the best thing to do is to send him home. 
 I will arrange the matter and have him discharged 
 on account of disability. Do not mention the 
 matter to him ; his discharge will be here within a 
 day or tw^o." 
 
 Will returned to his tent just in time to say "Good 
 bye" to young Temple who was returning to his 
 own company. As their two company streets were 
 but a short distance from each other, they promised 
 to exchange visits frequently. 
 
The Vouiig Volunteer. %^ 
 
 The next morning after Temple returned to his 
 ■own company, he was detailed to go on picket for 
 three days. The detail without doubt was brought 
 about by his captain who had taken a special dis- 
 like to him ever since his first interview with Will 
 Newton. Temple obeyed the order, and in com- 
 pany with the other soldiers, tramped through the 
 mud and water for six miles to the picket line. On 
 arriving there, he was so feeble that the officer in 
 command of the line excused him from duty for the 
 first day. 
 
 Sergeant Newton was so occupied with his duties 
 •that he did not find an opportunity to call and see 
 his friend for two days. In the meantime, a heavy 
 storm of rain and snow was falling. His heart was 
 .filled with anxiety for his friend. As he hastened 
 to his tent, imagine his surprise when informed that 
 he was on picket. 
 
 He indignantly hastened to the quarters of the 
 orderly sergeant to ask why such a detail had been 
 made. 
 
 ''Well, sir," said that official, ''the captain said 
 'include Temple in your picket detail' that morning, 
 and you know I had to obey." 
 
86 Will Newton, 
 
 Newton then called at the captain's tent and found 
 that worthy engaged in playing cards with a brother 
 officer. A canteen and two glasses were beside 
 them on the table. Newton, with all the civility 
 that he could muster under the circumstances, en- 
 quired after Temple. 
 
 The mention of that name was sufficient to in- 
 flame the passions of the captain, and bringing his 
 clenched hand down on the table with force enough 
 to make the canteen and glasses jump, he, with a 
 terrible oath, demanded, "Young man, who com- 
 mands this company, you or I?" 
 
 Newton saw it- was no use to reply, so turned 
 away and went in search of the surgeon. To reach 
 the tent of the latter, he was obliged to pass the 
 colonel's tent. As he was in the act of passing, he 
 heard that officer's voice cry out, "Sergeant New^ 
 ton !" He went to the door to see what was wanted. 
 
 "Here sergeant," said the colonel, "is Temple's 
 discharge ; it has just reached headquarters." 
 
 "Oh, I am so glad," cried Will. "The poor fellow 
 is out on picket in this storm, and I was on my way 
 to the surgeon's tent to get him excused from duty 
 if it was possible." 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 87 
 
 "On picket! How came he there?" sharply de- 
 manded the colonel. 
 
 "His captain, sir, instructed the sergeant to detail 
 him ; but excuse me, sir, I must hasten with this ta 
 the picket line." 
 
 "You surely will not go to-night?" remarked the 
 other. "It is six miles distant and it is almost dark 
 
 now." 
 
 "Yes, sir; I must go. Temple is so delicate 
 that I fear that he will perish in the storm." 
 
 "If you must go," said the colonel, "go to my 
 orderly and get two horses ; ride one out and lead 
 the other for Temple to ride back on." 
 
 "Oh, thank you, sir," replied Will, as he dashed 
 around the tent to get the horses. 
 
 It was after dark, and poor Temple, sick, discour- 
 aged, broken-spirited and homesick, sat down on 
 his lonely beat, for he was unable to stand during 
 the whole two hours of his watch. Deeply he re- 
 gretted his past folly ; his heart yearned for home. 
 Oh for one embrace from that mother and sister who 
 were doubtless mourning him as dead. 
 
 He was aroused from these sad reflections by 
 some one stumbling in the darkness towards where 
 he was sitting. True to his training as a soldier, 
 
8S Will Newtoii, 
 
 he sprang to his feet and challenged the comer, — 
 "Who comes there?" 
 
 "Friend, with the countersign," came the answer 
 through the darkness. "Harry, it is I !" shouted 
 Will. 
 
 "I am so glad you have come ; but what on earth 
 brought you out here at this time of night?" 
 
 By this time Will had reached the place where 
 his friend was standing ; he could restrain his joy 
 no longer, but throwing his arms around Temple's 
 neck he burst into tears and cried, "Oh Harry, would 
 you like to go home?" 
 
 At the sound of the word home. Temple also 
 broke down, and answered, "Yes ; but I shall die 
 out here. I know that I shall never see home again. 
 But why do you ask me that ?" 
 
 "Because," replied Will, "I have your discharge 
 in my pocket, and have come out here to give it to 
 jou. You are your own man now." 
 
 Temple was completely overcome. He sank 
 down upon the ground and sobbed as if his heart 
 would break, and continued to repeat, again and 
 again, "Oh Will ! I owe it all to you ; how shall I 
 £ver repay you for all your kindness." 
 
The Toung Volunteer, 89^ 
 
 "There is just one way you can pay me, Harry," 
 remarked Will, in a low tone ; "and I want you to 
 promise me that, right here, to-night." 
 
 "What is it?" asked his companion. 
 
 "Promise me that you will never drink any liq- 
 uor, smoke any tobacco, or use any profane lan- 
 guage from this time ; and that you will be a good 
 son and brother." 
 
 "I promise," solem.nly said the other. 
 
 "Let us ask God to help you keep that promise," 
 said Newton, and in the blinding storm in the solitary- 
 hour of night, those friends knelt down together,^ 
 and young Newton offered a touching prayer for his 
 companion, that he might have strength given him 
 to fulfill his sacred obligation. 
 
 On the following day. Temple bade good bye to 
 his comrades and regiment. Newton accompanied 
 him as far as Washington to take passage on the 
 afternoon express train eastward-bound, and there he 
 bade him good bye. 
 
 A few days later, Sergeant Newton received a 
 letter bearing the postmark of Lowell, Mass. It 
 was a long letter, written in a business hand and 
 signed by Clarence Temple. That gentleman was 
 Harry Temple's father. The latter had arrived 
 
90 Will Newton., 
 
 safely at his home, to the great joy of his family. 
 The letter contained many expressions of gratitude 
 for Newton's remarkable kindness to young Tem- 
 ple, and closed with something like the following: 
 
 "I have been at a loss to know how to repay you 
 for the great debt we owe you, and have determined 
 to do it in a manner that will render some practical 
 benefit to you. I trust that you will not feel insulted 
 for I assure you, it is but a genuine expression of 
 our deep gratitude to you. I have this day placed 
 two thousand dollars to your credit in the Mer- 
 chant's bank of this city, and enclosed you wall find 
 a certificate of deposit in your name for that amount. 
 
 Wishing you a safe return to your friends, and 
 hoping to receive a visit from you at some time, I 
 remain. 
 
 Truly yours, ^ 
 
 Clarence Temple. 
 
 For a time Newton could not speak ; he could 
 hardly think. Two thousand dollars and all his 
 own ! He immediately resolved that he would not 
 keep the money, feeling that he had returned no 
 just equivalent for it. He found his old friend Bill 
 Logan, and read the letter to him. 
 
 "Keep the money !" said Logan, "Of course you 
 will. Mr. Temple will feel badly if you do not ; 
 and then you deserve it. But it does beat all ; luck 
 is always on your side. I have sat around this tent 
 for hours and watched you as you w^orked for that 
 
The Toung- Voluitteei'. 91 
 
 young Temple. Day and night you worked when 
 I knew that you were tired and sleepy, and some- 
 times I said to myself, he is a fool ! no one will ever 
 even thank him for all his trouble. But I was the 
 fool, and you are now well repaid for all your 
 trouble and labor. I believe that in the end it 
 always pays to do the honest thing, and I am very 
 o^lad for vou." 
 
 '•Oh, Bill," said the other, "I ought not to have 
 the money ; the thought that I had done for young 
 Temple as I would want him to do for me under a 
 change of circumstances, is all the reward that I 
 want." 
 
 "Well, perhaps so," replied the practical Logan, 
 *'but if you should live to return home from the 
 war, that two thousand dollars woidd do more to 
 help you about entering business, I think, than all 
 the other enjoyment of which you speak. The old 
 gentleman has lots of money no doubt, and my 
 advice to you is. keep what he has given vou." 
 
 After much reflection, Newton decided to keep 
 the magnificent present, and he wrote a letter to 
 Mr. Temple expressing gratitude for his kindness. 
 He also wrote to Mr. Lamb in Maplewood, giving 
 the particulars of his great, good fortune. 
 
92 Will Newton, 
 
 Farmer Lamb read the letter aloud from 
 beginning to end, three times ; then crossing his 
 legs and folding his hands with the wise look^of a 
 philosopher, he gravely remarked : ''Well, it does 
 beat all !" 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 As we have stated in the previous chapter, there 
 vv^as much sickness in the regiment during that first 
 winter in Virginia, and there was also very much 
 w^ickedness. Many of the men having thrown off 
 the restraint of Christian society, and drawn 
 together as they were in large masses, without the 
 refining influence of woman's society, indulged 
 freely in many sinful practices almost unknown to 
 them when they were at home. Profanity prevailed 
 to a fearful extent. It was shocking: to hear the 
 fearful oaths used in common conversation by the 
 soldiers, many of whom had not passed in years 
 beyond the limit of boyhood. Will Newton was 
 pained to notice, that in his own company there 
 was scarcely a man who did not indulge freely in 
 this wicked and foolish habit. x\ll the other com- 
 panies in the regiment, were equally as bad. 
 Gambling became alarmingly common as a pastime. 
 Hours and days were spent by the devotees of 
 cards in playing these various games of chance. 
 
94 Will Newton^ 
 
 Men would play until their" money was all gone ; 
 then pocket-knives, tobacco, pipes, stockings, shoes, 
 and other articles of wearing apparel would be put 
 up as stakes. There was also much liquor drank. 
 The orders were very strict against selling liquor 
 to enlisted men ; but the venders of this article 
 managed to smuggle it into camp, so that those who 
 drank it were usually Avell supplied, and if this 
 source of evil had failed, there were many of the 
 officers who would sign orders for the men to get 
 the poison at the brigade commissary. 
 
 There were probably but few regiments in the 
 army around Washington that winter more com- 
 pletely given over to these sinful and demoralizing 
 practices, than that of which Will Newton was a 
 member. The line officers were nearly all in 
 sympathy with the condition of affairs, and were 
 themselves as bad, if not worse, than the enlisted 
 men. Among the field officers, the colonel was the 
 only one who was an exception to the rule. He 
 was very temperate in all his own habits, but en- 
 tertained the opinion that if a man only performed 
 his duty faithfully it did not matter much what he 
 did when off from duty. 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 95 
 
 Thus matters went on, rapidly becoming worse 
 as the weeks passed away. In all the regiment there 
 was nothing to counteract the influence for evil. The 
 chaplain, from whom such work is expected, was 
 absent from his post, and there was no one to per- 
 form the work thus left undone. This state of 
 things troubled Will Newton very much ; for in the 
 midst of his manifold duties and all his labors of 
 love, he could but note the moral condition of his 
 comrades. It seemed so terrible to him to see those 
 men organized for war, a large proportion ot whom 
 would probably fall upon the battle field before an- 
 other campaign should close, so utterly careless as to 
 their condition, and plunging into sin at such a 
 . fearful rate. 
 
 In his own mind he planned many methods to 
 improve the situation, but gave them all up as use- 
 Jess. 
 
 One day, in his tent, he resolved to bring the 
 matter before his old friend. Bill, who had so fre- 
 quently advised him upon matters of importance. 
 
 ''Tell you, it is of no use to try," replied that wor- 
 thy. "I know what human natur' is. I have seen 
 it in all parts of the world, under all kinds of col- 
 ors, and I tell you it is a hard thing to handle. You 
 
(^G Will Newton^ 
 
 may preach and plead and waste all your sympathy, 
 but human natur' will, in the end, have its own 
 Avay. When it wants to be good, it is all right ; 
 and when it wants to be bad, it is bound to be bad, 
 and you may just as well be satisfied. If a man is 
 bound to go to satan, why, wish him well and let 
 him go. That is my motto." 
 
 "Oh, no, it isn't, either," replied Will. "I know 
 you too well to believe that ; you are always trying 
 to keep men from doing wrong. Now I want to 
 tell you what I saw this forenoon. I went up to see 
 that man in Company B who has been sick for 
 several weeks. I found him dying, and the last 
 words that he uttered as I sat beside him were ter- 
 rible oaths ; cursing God because he was to die. 
 At his tent door sat the fellows who had tented with 
 him, and while he was dying they were playing 
 cards, drinking whiskey and using the most pro- 
 fane language that I ever heard, and I resolved then 
 and there that something should be done to make 
 a change in these things." 
 
 Bill Logan had listened very attentively to the re- 
 marks of young Newton, for in his own heart he 
 was in sympathy with the position taken by Will ; 
 but he had no faith that anything could be done to 
 
The Young Volunteer. 97 
 
 change the situation, and in the earnest, practical 
 manner for which he was noted, remarked, ''All 
 that may be true, lots of them are w^orse than the 
 uncivilized heathen ; but what do you think that you 
 can do? I know you have lots of grit. You knocked 
 poor Bob out of time in the tent that Sunday night, 
 and you made a man of him afterwards ; you have 
 done wonders in the regiment and made every one 
 love you ; you charged like a mad elephant on that 
 rebel battery at Bull Run. I know you are quite a 
 chap and can do lots of things that other men bigger 
 than you cannot do ; but my advice is, let this job 
 alone ; for when you undertake to reform this 
 drunken, reckless regiment, you have taken hold of 
 about as big a job as ever was contracted for since 
 Joshua led the Egyptians dry-shod across the Red 
 sea. Take my advice. Look out for number one, 
 and let every one else do the same." 
 
 Will made no reply, but inwardly resolved to 
 undertake the task which was pressing upon his 
 heart. The following day Bill Logan was aston- 
 ished to hear Will ask him if he could sing. 
 
 ''Sing.^" replied he. "Well, I reckon I used to 
 grind out some tunes when I was a younger man 
 than I am now. I remember how I used to make 
 
98 Will Newton^ 
 
 the forecastle of our old ship echo ; lots and lots of 
 songs I used to sing." 
 
 "And when you was a boy, I suppose you used 
 to sing hymns, did you not?" asked Will. 
 
 "I should rather say I did," replied the unsus- 
 pecting Logan. 
 
 "They used to say then, that I was a clipper. 
 Sundays they would put me up in the church 
 gallery with the choir, and I didn't play second fid- 
 dle to any of them, either. I would spread every 
 inch of canvas, open my mouth wide, and let her 
 run. The old ladies all said that I would be a par- 
 son when I became a man ; but I have not seen any 
 symptoms of that since I began to follow the sea."" 
 
 "It has been a long time since then," said New- 
 ton, "but of course you have not forgotten those 
 hymns yet." 
 
 "Never shall forget them, sir," replied the other. 
 "I think of them every day, and sometimes I can 
 almost see the old parson and the congregation 
 again." - 
 
 "T am so pleased to know that," continued New- 
 ton ; "for I was down to the head-quarters of the 
 Christian Commission this morning, and they gave 
 me lots of hynm books, and this evening I am pro- 
 
The Tcnuig Volufiteer. 99- 
 
 posing to get some of the men to come into our 
 tent to have a meeting, and I want you to do the 
 singing." 
 
 Bill Logan was, for a moment, a most abject and 
 pitiful looking man, for he saw that his friend had 
 very adroitly got the advantage of him ; but being 
 determined to escape from his predicament, he be- 
 gan, ""Impossible! sergeant, impossible! I never 
 used to sing any thing but songs ; and they were 
 about such men as Robert Kidd and other old pi- 
 rates. They would hardly be the thing in a meeting 
 I reckon." 
 
 "Oh !" said Will, "but you just confessed that you 
 sang in church, and that they thought you would 
 one day be a minister ; perhaps you may, who can 
 tell." 
 
 "But," pleaded Logan, "my throat is all out of 
 order, and I have forgotten all the old hymns, and 
 I won't learn any of them new fangled 'fol de 
 rols' that they call hymns in these times. No I 
 won't !" 
 
 "You are mistaken," said Will. "In these books 
 you will find the same hymns and tunes you sang 
 thirty years ago. I know you will sing, for you 
 never refuse to do anything that I ask you to do ; 
 
lOO Will New to 71^ 
 
 so look over the book and get ready for meeting. 
 I will go out and invite the congregation to come." 
 
 '*ril be blovved*," soliloquized Bill when he was 
 left alone. ''I was never so completely sold in my 
 life before, guess I must be losing my faculties ; why 
 didn't I take the hint when that rascal was asking 
 about my singing. If I had not been a fool I 
 would have known that something was in the wind. 
 If it had been any live man except Will Newton, I 
 believe I would have thrashed him on the spot ; but 
 that fellow is as good as an angel, and if he says 
 sing, I may just as well sing, no matter how big a 
 fool I make of myself, for he will always have his 
 own way. But I wnll get even with the i^ascal for 
 this, sometime, or else my name is not Bill 
 Logan." 
 
 Evening came. Great preparations had been 
 made in Will's tent for the proposed meeting. The 
 tent itself was larger than the average, and thus 
 afforded superior advantage for the gathering. 
 Four persons could sit upon the edge of the berth 
 or bed which filled nearly one-half of the tent ; — 
 four more could sit on the rough bench that 
 extended along beside the table, and a few others 
 could sit on two hard-bread boxes which had been 
 
The Toung Volunteer. loi 
 
 placed on the tent floor. Two or three could stand 
 or sit in the door-way, and as Bill Logan remarked, 
 ''There was room for quite a number outdoors." 
 As there was no gallery for the choir to occupy, 
 Will had placed an empty hard-bread box upon the 
 bed, and after much persuasion had succeeded in 
 getting Bill Logan, hymn book in hand, to take a 
 seat upon it. 
 
 The little tent was soon filled with the invited 
 ofuests : among- them were some of the most wicked 
 men in the company. There was also quite a 
 crowd of men on the outside. 
 
 Will very modestly introduced the exercises by 
 explaining the object of the meeting. He had 
 thought that perhaps they would enjoy a meeting of 
 that kind once in a while, more than they would the 
 games and methods of entertainment which they 
 had become so accustomed to. He also informed 
 them that Bill Logan had consented to lead the 
 singing, and that he wanted them all to assist. For 
 several moments Bill had been making frantic 
 efforts to clear his throat, and at the proper moment 
 he threw back his head, expanded his lungs, and 
 in a deep, heavy voice began that old hymn, 
 "There's a land that is fairer than day." When 
 
I02 Wi'll Newton^ 
 
 the chorus was reached, to the delight of Will, a 
 large portion of the congregation joined in the 
 singing ; and they went through with the whole 
 hymn, as Bill Logan afterwards said, ^'like a 
 typhoon on the Indian Ocean." When the hymn 
 was closed, the choir looked down on the leader 
 and congregation with a look of self satisfaction, 
 as if it said, "what do you think of that." Will 
 then read the one hundred and third Psalm, and 
 offered a prayer to which the congregation listened 
 with the most profound respect. That was followed 
 by more singing, and thus a whole hour's time was 
 passed, to the enjoyment of all present. As the 
 exercises were about to close, a tall, dark-featured, 
 sharp-eyed fellow, whose name was Dan Eliott, 
 arose. Will was much concerned in mind as he 
 saw him rising to his feet, for Eliott was well 
 known as the most desperate man in the whole 
 regiment. He w^as one of the famous old forty- 
 niners, who, in that year, went to California in 
 search of gold. He was a very gentlemanly appear- 
 ing man, but a desperate gambler, reckless to the 
 last degree ; a dead shot with the revolver, and it 
 was whispered among the men, that more than one 
 victim had fallen before his unerring aim. 
 
The Young Volunteer, 103 
 
 When once upon his feet, he addressed the com- 
 pany like this: — "Gentlemen, our host is a white 
 man. It was very thoughtful in him to arrange 
 this meeting for our entertainment. I have been in 
 all sorts of fandangoes between the Atlantic and 
 Pacific, and am ready to stake my pile that as an 
 entertainment it has been a success. And gentle- 
 men, I propose that we not only thank Sergeant 
 Newton for what he has done, but invite him to 
 continue his show in the future." 
 
 "Agreed, agreed !" the men all cried out, and so 
 it was understood that the meetings should be con- 
 tinued. After the congregation had dispersed, 
 Will asked Logan what he thought of it. The 
 latter could only groan, "You do beat the vs^orld." 
 "But it was not me at all, persisted Will, it was 
 your singing. I never heard such music. Why, the 
 whole choir and congregation at Maplewood could 
 not do half as well." 
 
 Early the following morning Sergeant Newton 
 was seen calling at the colonel's tent. "What can 
 I do for you, sir.^" said that officer. 
 
 Will laid his plans before him and asked if there 
 was not some tent that he could borrow to hold the 
 meetings in. The colonel thought a moment, and 
 
I04 Will Newton^ 
 
 answered, "Yes, I have a large tent that will be 
 
 just the thing ; but where will you have it pitched?'* 
 
 "At the end of our company street near my own 
 tent, sir," said Will. 
 
 The large wall tent was soon put up in the desired 
 location, and before night came the preliminary 
 arrangements were all perfected. Seats enough to 
 accommodate fifty persons had been arranged. Will 
 had purchased candles to illuminate it in grand 
 style, hymn books had been obtained to furnish all 
 the people who came. Bill Logan, and a few other 
 singers whose services had been secured, occupied 
 elevated seats in one corner of the tent, while Will, 
 the leader, occupied a seat in front of the audience. 
 The exercises were much the same as on the previous 
 evening ; only the singing was much more general. 
 
 As these were drawing to a close, Dan Eliott 
 again arose, walked to the front and remarked, 
 "Gentlemen, the evening's entertainment has been 
 first-class, and this show must be continued. But 
 there is some expense. Now, I propose that we 
 gentlemen anti up one hundred dollars, and put it 
 in the hands of the manager, Sergeant Newton, to 
 expend for such articles of general amusement as he 
 may think proper. What do you say gentlemen.?" 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 105. 
 
 A yell of approval from the entire crowd of men 
 showed that they were all in favor of it. But by 
 this time Will Newton was upon his feet. "1 had 
 rather you would not raise the money, comrades," 
 said he; ''but if you insist upon doing that, let it 
 be for another object. I can easily pay these bills, 
 but as there are many sick men in the regiment why 
 not spend this money in purchasing some delicacies 
 for them?" 
 
 But Dan Eliott was not to be thwarted, "Don't 
 straddle my blind too quick, partner," he rejoined. 
 "I reckon this institution is able to have two funds ; 
 one of them literary or religious, whichever you 
 see fit to call it, and the other a charitable fund. 
 If the gentlemen in the audience will anti up the 
 first hundred, and pass the buck to me, I will chip 
 the second hundred." 
 
 "Done ! Done !" cried a score of voices. 
 
 The first hundred dollars was speedily raised, 
 and then the gambler drew a large roll of bills from 
 his pocket, coolly counted ofi" another hundred, and 
 handing it to Sergeant Newton, said, — "Let every 
 thing be done first-class sergeant ; you can have 
 more funds if they are needed." 
 
io6 Will Newton^ 
 
 Will was delighted to have the money to be ex- 
 pended for the sick and suflering men, and as he 
 returned to his tent he was estimating how much 
 comfort it would afford them. 
 
 There was a meeting held in the chapel tent every 
 evening for many weeks. A strange, mysterious 
 power began to effect the men. Will Newton found 
 that his heart was strangely drawn towards those 
 who gathered in the meetings. His prayers became 
 more urgent and direct that God would bless and 
 save them from sin. His words to them became 
 urgent appeals to live different lives ; and as they 
 listened, the men were greatly affected. On the 
 fourth evening, one man arose and said, "Com- 
 rades, at home I was a Christian man. When I 
 entered the army I laid aside my religion ; since 
 then I havebeen very wicked and wandered faraway. 
 I am ashamed of myself. I arise to confess my 
 w^rong doing. From this time I shall endeavor to 
 lead a different life." 
 
 The ice was now broken, and not a meeting was 
 held from that evening but what one or more men 
 expressed a desire to live a new life. There was a 
 great change in the regiment ; cards, whiskey and 
 profanity suddenly disappeared, and in their stead 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 107 
 
 were testaments, prayers, meetings and hymns of 
 praise. And the spiritual interest in the meetings 
 increased. The tent was not large enough, and two 
 others of equal size were erected so that the three 
 could be included in one. All three were crowded. 
 Many of the officers, including the colonel, 
 frequently attended the meetings. Sometimes in a 
 single evening there would be several conversions. 
 Men flocked there from other commands. Chaplains 
 from other regiments often attended the meetings. 
 Will Newton conducted all the exercises, while Bill 
 Logan and his select choir led in the singing. The 
 congregation would not listen to any change being 
 made in either department. 
 
 One night the interest and power was remarkable. 
 Several hardened cases arose and asked an interest 
 in the Christian's prayers, when to the joy of all, 
 Dan Eliott, who had been a faithful attendant and 
 supporter from the beginning of the meetings arose, 
 and thus addressed his listeners : "Gentlemen, I 
 always play a fair game and demand an honest deal 
 on the part of my opponent. I don't believe in 
 spotting the deck or hiding cards. I always anti 
 when it is my turn and make no chin music. If I 
 lose a pile it is all right providing I am playing 
 
lo8 Will JVewlon, 
 
 with a white man ; if I am not, then tlie best man" 
 takes the pile. I have been a spectator of this show 
 from the word go, and have watched the cards as 
 they have been deah out. I am satisfied that it has 
 been an honest, straight game. I know what I 
 ought to do and I don't propose to bluff the 
 Almighty. The stakes are too great to allow much 
 fooling. These gentlemen have nearly all become 
 Christians and I am resolved to follow suit. I 
 want you to pray for me," — and here the hardened 
 sinner sobbed like a child. 
 
 That was a great night in the regiment. The 
 bugle did not sound for roll-call ; the drummers 
 forgot to beat the tattoo. It was midnight before 
 the meeting closed, and at that time, Dan EHott, the 
 gambler, had found the pearl of great price. 
 
 The good work continued all through the winter 
 and early spring. Its effects were visible every- 
 where. The hospital or charity fund was so 
 frequently replenished that it did not become 
 exhausted, although countless delicacies were pur- 
 chased and carried to all the sick men in the regi- 
 ment. 
 
 A few weeks before they were to break camp in 
 the spring, a chaplain from an adjoining regiment 
 
The 7'oiing Volunteer. 109 
 
 came over and preached to the men one beautiful 
 Sabbath afternoon, and at the close of the sermon 
 over fifty of the converts received the ordinance of 
 baptisin. 
 
 After these exercises were closed, Will Newton 
 and Bill Logan were in their tent talking over the 
 w^onderful results seen in the moral transformation 
 of the regiment. ••What do you think of it. Bill?" 
 queried Ne\vton. "What I have seen," answered 
 Bill, "has convinced me with tolerable certaint\' of 
 two things : The first is, that when you asked my 
 advice about the meetings, I was a perfect fool ; 
 and the other is, that you never get beat. Whatever 
 you undertake, goes." 
 
 "Oh, not so," replied Will. "The only lesson I 
 have learned from the whole matter is this ; that the 
 most insisfnificent instrument in the hands of God 
 can accomplish great things. There is no more 
 credit to be given me, Bill, than there is to you ; for 
 your singing did more to make the meetings a 
 success than anything I could do." 
 
 "Well, perhaps so," said the other. "But credit 
 for that singing is due you, for I never vv^ould have 
 sang a hymn if you had not got to w^indward of me ; 
 and I never should have mounted that hard bread 
 
no Wzli Newton. 
 
 box in the first meeting, if it had not been for you. 
 So the credit is all yours." "I will tell you a 
 better way," solemnly replied Newton. "We will 
 give all the credit to God, to whom it belongs, and 
 let us resolve in the future always to serve him as 
 best we can. And the two comrades knelt together 
 beside their rude bed and earnestly prayed that 
 God would consecrate their lives fully to himself. 
 
 .^-^ 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The month of March in 1S63, was a very busy 
 period in the camp of the army of the Potomac. A 
 great campaign was soon to open, and the officers 
 were verv anxious to have the soldiers in the best 
 fighting trim possible. Drills, inspections and 
 reviews were the order of the day. There was a 
 very strong competition among the regimental com- 
 manders to see whose regiment should appear in the 
 best condition, and do the best service in the 
 coming campaign. 
 
 One night, Will Xewton received a summons to 
 the colonel's tent, where he had a Ions: conversa- 
 tion with that officer. "Sergeant," remarked the 
 colonel, '"there is no man in the regiment who has 
 so much moral influence over the men as vou 
 have. That is conceded by all the officers, and 
 now I have a fa^"or to ask of you. Undoubtedly 
 w'e shall soon zo to fields of strife. I desire above 
 all things else to have this regiment do the most 
 eflective work of any in this corps when we 
 
112 Will Ne-wton., 
 
 are there. I am a young man to hold the position 
 that I occupy, but I am resolved to lead these men 
 to victory and honor, or to death. In your associa- 
 tions vv^ith the men, I want you to urge upon them 
 individually, the importance of obedience, coolness, 
 resolution and braverv on their part. Sho\v them 
 how little it is to sacrifice every thing, even life 
 itself, if bv makinsf such sacrifices thev can honor 
 the flag and win a glorious name." 
 
 Will, of course, was willing to do any thing con- 
 sistent with duty : and thus the two men, forgetting 
 for a time the ditierence in their rank, discussed this 
 subject of such vital importance to them both. The 
 colonel in the course of the con\'ersation told Will 
 much of his earlv life. He was a member of a 
 wealthv familv. His father had secured his com- 
 mission, and he \vas anxious for an opportunity to 
 show that he was worthy of it. At the battle of 
 Bull Run he had displayed great bravery, but he 
 was longing for other fields where he could help 
 regain the laurels lost in that terrible defeat. 
 Newton was also informed that he was engaged to 
 be married to a beautiful and accomplished young 
 lady, and that at the close of the next summer's 
 campaign the ceremony was to be performed. 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 113 
 
 As he was about to retire, Will remarked, 
 •^ 'Colonel, you will jd^^i'^^^o^"^ i^V seeming imperti- 
 nence, but I am deeply interested in your welfare. 
 Have you never felt in your heart that you ought to 
 be a Christian ?" For a moment the officer was 
 silent, and then replied, "Sergeant, I will answer 
 you candidh'. I have thought of this matter very 
 much since your meetings began ; at times I have 
 almost decided to take a stand with you, but 
 obstacles of which vou know nothinsr have been in 
 the way ; yet there has not been a night during the 
 past two months but what I have bowed before 
 God and asked him to lead me in the path of truth. 
 I believe that mv pravers have been heard, and that 
 I have been gradually drawing nearer to God. I 
 have never experienced that peace of which so 
 many of you speak ; perhaps I have been so great a 
 sinner that such joy is not for me ; but I am 
 determined to let God lead me in the future." 
 
 "I am very thankful to know this, colonel," said 
 the other. "And now as I am about to leave, are 
 you willing to kneel \\'ith me in pra^^er.^" Silently 
 the tw^o young men bowed down together. Earnestly, 
 and with a full heart. Will Newton prayed for his 
 companion, that God ^vould lead him out into the 
 
114 ^ ^^^ Newton, 
 
 light ; that an assurance should be given him that 
 Jesus had accepted him. There came a groan and 
 sob from the colonel's breast. For a m.oment, Will 
 did not understand its import, but the other, with a 
 shining: face and tearful eves exclaimed, "Oh! I 
 havx found him ! He has come ! Such peace, — It is 
 Heaven. Glory be unto the name of Jesus for 
 ever and ever ;" — and from that hour he w^as a man 
 of God. 
 
 Diligently did Sergeant Newton attend to the 
 delicate duties assigned him by his colonel, and the 
 result of his labor was soon visible among the inen. 
 There was much enthusiasm apparent in each 
 company, and every man endeavored to put himself 
 in the best possible condition for the coming conflict. 
 They no longer regarded the war as an affair with 
 w^hich they were but indirectly connected, but that 
 it was their own personal matter ; and that honor, 
 inanhood, country, every thing, was at stake. 
 They welcomed the drill and rigid discipline which 
 soldiers so often detest, because they knew that it 
 would make them more effective in the hour of 
 battle. In the prayers offered in their tents, as 
 well as those uttered in more public places, they 
 asked the great Giver of all good to remember the 
 
llie young 'Volunteer. 115 
 
 cause for which tliey were to fight, and inspire thein 
 with courage for the trying ordeal. 
 
 To the great dehght of the patriotic and ambitious 
 young colonel, it was officially announced from 
 Division Headquarters that his regiment was the 
 best drilled, and under the finest discipline of any 
 in the entire Division. He called Sergeant New^ton 
 to his tent, and with his characteristic generosity 
 said, '"Much, very much of the credit is due to 
 you." 
 
 "Not at all, sir," replied Newton. 
 
 "Tut, tut," said the colonel. "Do not deny it; 
 those meetings you held were the means in God's 
 hands of transforming the whole regiment. I never 
 saw such a change take place among men in my 
 life. I would not have believed that it was possi- 
 ble." 
 
 "Then we will give God all the thanks," 
 remarked Newton. 
 
 "I understand that," replied the other. "But you 
 were the agent by which He worked, and your 
 faithfulness and zeal made it possible for Him to 
 accomplish great things. I shall always remember 
 you wdth feelings of great gratitude." 
 
ii6 Will Newt o7i^ 
 
 A few davs before the regiment was to break 
 camp, the intelhgence came that they were to be 
 honored by a visit from the Governor of their State, 
 and great preparations were made for a fine display 
 of their soldierly qualities before their chief magis- 
 trate. The fact of his comino- was a sfreat event to 
 Will Newton. As he had never seen the Governor 
 of his State, he possessed a great desire to look 
 upon one for whom he had so great a regard. 
 
 Upon his arrival, the Governor was received with 
 great demonstrations by the regiment, and on the 
 following day there was drill, review and dress pa- 
 rade. The distinguished gentleman was highly 
 pleased with the fine appearance of the men, and 
 publicly complimented them for their soldierly bear- 
 ing. Sergeant Newton v^^as notified l)y an orderly 
 that he must report at the colonel's tent, and sup- 
 posing that there was duty to perform that had been 
 overlooked, hastened tliither ; but to his great sur- 
 prise he was invited to enter the tent and introduced 
 to the Governor himself. The colonel in present- 
 ing him to the Governor, pleasantly remarked, — 
 •• 'Sergeant Newton has been our genius for good. I 
 cannot say too much in his praise, or give him too 
 much credit for the assistance he has rendered me 
 
The T'oung Volu7iteer. 117 
 
 in bringing my regiment to that point of discipline 
 which you have witnessed. The Governor, notic- 
 ing the embarrassment of the young sergeant in 
 being thus complimented, skillfully turned the con- 
 versation into another channel. He enquired about 
 his early boyhood, his native town, and many other 
 subjects of great interest to Will, who was com- 
 pletely captivated by the pleasing address of the 
 Governor. 
 
 A delightful hour was thus passed and Will 
 Newton arose to depart. The Governor also arose, 
 and drawing a large official document from his 
 breast pocket, handed it to the sergeant with this 
 remark, — ''I heard of you before I left home, ser- 
 geant. When you return to your quarters, open 
 this envelope and you w'iU find a small testimonial 
 of my regard for you ; and may God bless you and 
 all the men in the great sacrifices you are making 
 for your country." 
 
 "Delightful, noble old man," mused Will New- 
 ton ; "so thoughtful to bring me this little testimo- 
 nial. No matter wliat it may be, I shall preserve 
 it as if of the greatest value." 
 
 He entered his tent and carelessly opened the 
 great envelope. He looked. W^hat I did he read 
 
ii8 Wi'll Neivton^ 
 
 it correctly? No, he must be mistaken. A com- 
 mission ! Sergeant William Newton, promoted for 
 bravery and good conduct, to a second lieutenant ! 
 He was about to reveal the tidings to Bill Logan, 
 when the latter was informed that the captain wished 
 him for a moment. 
 
 Within the envelope Will found also an autograph 
 letter written by the colonel to the Governor, and 
 signed by every commissioned officer in the regi- 
 ment, asking for the promotion of Sergeant Newton. 
 This was a greater surprise than the commission 
 itself, and the two about upset the equilibrium of 
 the young man. 
 
 Bill Logan now entered. "Bill, look at this!" 
 exclaimed Will, holding the commission and letter 
 towards him. 
 
 "I know all about it," replied Bill. 
 
 "How^ did you find it out?" eagerly questioned 
 the astonished Will. 
 
 "The captain told me," said Bill. 
 
 Further conversation was prevented by a crowd 
 of the boys rushing into the tent to congratulate 
 Lieutenant Newton and Sergeant Logan upon their 
 promotion. 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 119 
 
 * 'Sergeant Logan !" exclaimed the surprised 
 Newton. 
 
 *'Yes, sir; Sergeant Logan," interposed Dan 
 Eliott. "I never sleep while a game is being played 
 no matter how poor the hand I may hold ; and when 
 I caught a glimpse of the old Governor dealing out 
 the cards to-day, and saw you were to hold the aces, 
 I went it blind up to the captain and told him that 
 Logan was the man for your place. The other boys 
 antied up the same way in double-quick time, and 
 the pile is for you and Logan." 
 
 It would be very difficult to decide w^hich of the 
 two men was the most surprised at these unexpected 
 events. On the evening following the events just 
 narrated, Will noticed that the men were gathering 
 at an early hour in large numbers within the great 
 tent where the meetings had been held, but being 
 much absorbed in the work he was doing, paid but 
 little attention to what was transpiring. He was 
 soon notified that his presence was required in the 
 great tent. As he entered it, he found it completely 
 filled with men, and scores who were unable to get 
 in, were standing outside. The walls of the tent 
 had been rolled up, how^ever, so that all could see 
 what was about to transpire. Upon seats in front 
 
I20 Win Newton^ 
 
 of the audience sat nearly all the officers of the 
 regiment. Dan Eliott was standing upon the 
 platform to officiate as spokesman. 
 
 At the proper moment Dan began : "Lieutenant 
 Xewton. I am here to speak for the enlisted men of 
 this regiment. We have watched vou from the 
 beginning. We believe you are an honest man and 
 that you have played a square game. You have 
 never stalked the cards, stolen an ace or tnnnped 
 your partner's trick, but through thick and thin you 
 have just played your cards for what they were 
 worth, as an honest man should. You have always 
 been willing to anti when it was vour turn, and vou 
 have dealt just as good cards to the private soldiers 
 as you have to the officers. We were all glad that 
 vou held the winning hand vesterdav, and feelinof 
 that we wanted to present a small testimonial of our 
 regard to a partner who always played according to 
 Hoyle. \ve present vou with this sword and belt. 
 We believe in doins^ thingfs first-class, and vou will 
 not find a more beautiful sword in the whole army 
 than this," and he handed Will Xewton a beautiful 
 sword most elegantly mounted with gold and elab- 
 orate! v engraved. 
 
The Toung Volunteer. \i\ 
 
 Xewton could not speak, and the colonel seeing 
 his embarrassment, arose and said. '"I endorse all 
 that has been said by Mr. Eliott. As officers, we 
 only regret that we were not permitted to assist in 
 purchasing this beautiful and costly sword, but as 
 it is time for the meeting to adjourn. I motion tliat 
 we sfive three rousins: cheers for Lieutenant Xew- 
 ton, tlie man. who. as the speaker to-night has well 
 said, has plaved an honest hand in dealing with us 
 all." And the three cheers were given with a 
 will. 
 
 Lieutenant Xewton found much to do the last 
 few days the regiment was to remain in the old 
 camp. He was obliged to change his quarters : 
 and it was with deep regret that he broke up his 
 housekeeping arrangements with Bill Logan. The 
 latter was in despair. He did not know how in 
 the world he should get along without Xewton ; 
 especially so since they had made him Sergeant- 
 *'\Vhy," remarked he. in an excited manner. ••! am 
 no more fit to be a Sersfeant than a marine is fit to 
 command a man-of-war." At this remark. Dan 
 Eliott shook his head with a knowing wink. and. 
 said, "We boys played that card well !" 
 
122 Wi'll Newton^ 
 
 Each week Will received a letter from his old 
 friend Temple. The latter had returned to college, 
 and was profuse in his expressions of gratitude to 
 his benefactor. There were many letters for 
 Newton to write, and in the midst of so many 
 friends and such prosperity, he did not forget his 
 early benefactor, Jerry Lamb. A letter was written 
 to him covering many pages giving a full account 
 of all that had transpired within the last few days. 
 
 "Wife !" "Wife !" called that worthy but excited 
 individual, as he finished reading the letter. "Come 
 here, quick, and listen!" And the good wife 
 hastened to hear the news. 
 
 "Just as I told you it would be, wife. I always 
 insisted upon it ; and now it has come to pass." 
 
 "What has come to pass, husband?" inquired the 
 good wife. 
 
 "Oh I it is about our boy, Will Newton. I always 
 said that he vv^ould be a general before the war 
 
 closed, and now he is." 
 
 "A what! husband?" 
 
 "A General, of course ; but just listen," and he read 
 :aloud the letter. 
 
 "Why that is a Lieutenant, and not a General, 
 husband," said Mrs. Lamb, as her husband finished 
 reading the letter. 
 
The Toung Vohenteer. 123 
 
 ''Well, so it is," said the other, a little discon- 
 certed by the correction. "But so long as I don't 
 know the difference between the two, it is all right ; 
 but he is a wonderful boy, and he will make his 
 mark before he comes home, mind what I tell you 
 now !" 
 
 In the meantime many other soldiers had gone 
 forth to war from the village of Maplewood, but 
 the people had not lost their interest in their first 
 volunteer, and all were rejoiced to hear of his good 
 fortune. 
 
 The army was under marching orders. The men 
 almost worshiped their commander, General 
 McClellan, and were only anxious for him to lead 
 them forth to meet the enemy. That those desires 
 ^were gratified, our succeeding chapters will show. 
 In all that great army, there was not a finer looking 
 officer than Lieutenant Will Newton, when with his 
 regiment he marched from the old encampment to 
 take a part in the aggressive mov^ements of the 
 coming campaign. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The armv was about to be transferred from its 
 base of operations at Washington, to Fortress Mon- 
 roe, from whence it was to go up the Peninsular to 
 Richmond. It was on the first day of March, 1S62, 
 that Will Newton's reg-iment embarked on board a 
 ^ steam transport at Alexandria, Virginia, and 
 immediately sailed down the Potomac River. 
 
 Young Newton enjoyed the trip very much, and 
 in the following extract selected from a long letter 
 written to the two boys in the Lamb homestead at 
 Maplewood, he gives a description of the trip and 
 of some startling events which followed : 
 
 "Alexandria is an old citv on the Viro;-inia side 
 of the Potomac river, some five or six miles below 
 WashinH;ton. This citv is also at the head of 
 navigation for large ships, while the smaller vessels 
 can go up the river as far as Washington. Our 
 regiment halted for a few hours in the old city, and 
 I looked around to see what points of interest I 
 could find. Among them I saw the old stone house 
 
The Voting Volunteer. 135 
 
 in which General Braddock had his head-quarters 
 before he went upon that fatal Indian campaign in 
 which he lost his life. General Washington had 
 his own head-quarters there many years afterwards. 
 T also saw the old Episcopal church in which 
 General Washington \vorshiped. General Lee, 
 now of the Confederate army, also worshiped here 
 ^vhen livino: at his old home on Arlinoton Heis^hts. 
 It is a quaint, somber looking old edifice. I also 
 sa\v the place \vhere Col. Ells\V()rth, the gallant sol- 
 dier, was shot by the ruffianly proprietor of the 
 ^Marshall House. The town is very quiet. Nearly 
 all the persons whom I saw were either soldiers or 
 
 negroes. 
 
 We embarked on the steamer and were soon sail- 
 fiig down the great river. The scenery on both 
 sides was ^■ery fine. I wish that you could have 
 enjoyed it. There were great plantations and upon 
 them we saw many slaves at work ; large mansions 
 and the most magnificent shade trees that vou ever 
 saw. There was such an appearance of comfort 
 about them that I almost wanted to 2:0 on shore and 
 enjoy the luxury of such a retreat. 
 
 Fifteen miles below Washington, we passed 
 
 Mount Vernon, which, as you know, is the burial 
 o 
 
126 JVill Newton^ 
 
 place of George Washington. The men were, of 
 course, very anxious to see it. I was fortunate 
 enough to gret a favorable location from which I 
 could gratify my curiosity. The old family mansion 
 is very finely situated upon a beautiful height of 
 land at some distance from the river, but in full 
 view of it. Great oak trees threw their brawny, 
 moss-covered arms above the venerated home, as if 
 to protect it from the storms of the centuries. The 
 grass covered lawn looked beautiful in the early sun- 
 shine of spring, and I could hardly make myself 
 believe that the old house had stood there for more 
 than one hundred years. Some three hundred 
 yards south of the mansion 1 could distinctly see 
 the old vault of the Washington family, where the 
 remains of the 'father of his country' were buried 
 until the year 1S30. Then the}' were removed by 
 the United States Government to a new tomb near 
 at hand built to receive them. 
 
 As I gazed upon the scene, my friends, I derived 
 a new inspiration from it. I wish that you could 
 both visit the place and see for yourselves ; but as 
 long as you cannot at present do that, you can 
 imitate the virtues of that great man, and endeavor 
 
The Young Volunteer, 127 
 
 to be as worthy of the respect of your fellow men 
 as was he. 
 
 As we passed down the river the negroes were 
 all very much interested in us, and flocked to the 
 river's bank on both sides, standing with open eyes 
 and mouths, to see 'Massa Linkum's sojers.' Poor 
 slaves ! they look degraded and ignorant. What a 
 great wrong the American people have committed 
 against them. 
 
 Our steamer landed us near Fortress Monroe. I 
 think it must be the largest fort in America, if not 
 in the world. It encloses as much as fifteen acres. 
 It is impossible for me to attempt to describe it to 
 you. It was named in honor of ex-President 
 Monroe. There are some guns on its w^alls so 
 large that I could quite easily creep into the muzzles 
 of them. I should not want to try that however, 
 unless they would promise not to fire the gun while 
 I was in there. We are encamped near the fort, 
 and can go down to the beach and see the vessels 
 in the bay. There are very many of them ; large 
 ships, little ships, schooners, sloops, brigs, gun- 
 boats, transports, and many other kinds. They all 
 have their flags flying and look very fine. Only a 
 few days ago this navy w^as as much affi'ighted as 
 
128 Wi7l JVezvto?z, 
 
 ^vas our army at the battle of Bull Run. Of course 
 you have read about it in your papers ; but I will 
 tell you how it looked, for I saw it all. I assure 
 you it was a very important event in the history of 
 this country. 
 
 • There had been many rumors about here that 
 the Confederates were building a great gun-boat up 
 the river, that would soon come down and sink all 
 our ships ; then capture Washington, and other 
 northern cities. The stories about this wonderful 
 craft not only increased in number, but also in size. 
 
 By these reports, that craft was several hundred 
 feet long ; her guns so large that a solid shot would 
 weigh half a ton or more ; that it would draw but 
 a few inches of water, and could almost sail on dry 
 land, and it was so very fast, that no ordinary 
 vessel could escape from it. Thus men talked and 
 wondered what the Confederate gun-boat actually 
 was. We were all oii the tip-toe of anxiety. 
 
 Our curiosity was sooil gratified. For on the 
 eighth of this month, the long talked of visitor put 
 in an appearance. There ^vere a great many 
 vessels in the bay to give her a warm and cordial 
 reception. There were several of our great ships 
 of war among the number. The "Roanoke," 
 
The Young Volimteer. -I2C) 
 
 ^'Minnesota," "Congress" and "Cumberland," with 
 'numerous other, small war vessels; also merchant- 
 «hips and steamers. From the mouth of the 
 Elizabeth river the Confederate gun-boat came. 
 As she hove in sight, an alarm was given, and we 
 all rushed out where we could see it. Two small 
 Confederate gun-boats also came out at the same 
 time from the James river; but the great monitor 
 known as the "Merrimac" absorbed all the atten- 
 tion. It was a most singular looking object, and 
 w^hen it first came in view I could only think of a 
 large house floating in the water with only its roof 
 exposed to view. There were hundreds and thou- 
 sands of spectators on the land watching the results 
 with much anxiety. Among the most interested 
 of them was my old friend, Bill Logan, who stood 
 by my side. 
 
 The Merrimac emerged from the river and directed 
 its course directly towards the Cumberland and 
 Congress ofl:' Newport ISTews. ^What kind of a 
 craft do you call that, I should like to know .?' said 
 Logan. 'I have been in all ports and seen all kinds 
 of sailing and steam gear, but I never saw such a 
 looking craft afloat as that. It looks like the roof 
 of a huge house taken from some mansion up river 
 
130 Wz'll Newton^ 
 
 and floated down here to scare our people. I wish 
 that one of our frigates out there would send a shot 
 into it to see what it is made of.' 
 
 As if in response to his expressed desire, at that 
 moment a cloud of smoke rose above the port-hole 
 of the Cumberland, and a hundred pound solid 
 shot w^ent screaming over the water and struck 
 squarely against the iron Merrimac ; but it bounded 
 off as if it had been but a ball thrown from a child's 
 hand. The Congress now opened on the Merrimac 
 with its fifty guns, and the Cumberland with its 
 twenty-four. The rapid discharge of these guns 
 filled the air with almost deafening reports. A great 
 cloud of smoke was suspended over the scene. Great 
 shells and shot were striking the Merrimac like hail- 
 stones in a shower, but glancing off from its mailed 
 side they were quite as harmless in their effect. 
 Without deigning to open her port-holes she steamed 
 on toward the Cumberland, and soon her iron beak 
 went crashing through the, side of that magnificent 
 vessel. A flood of water poured into the disabled 
 ship, and at the same moment, the Merrimac poured 
 a terrible broadside into her crippled antagonist. 
 Manfully the dying Cumberland fought with her 
 terrible foe ; and not until she was sinking did the 
 
The 7'oung Volunteer. 131 
 
 survivors abandon the ship by jumping overboard 
 to save their lives. On-e hundred and fifty of the 
 sick and wounded went down with the noble ship. 
 
 We had watched this struggle with almost breath- 
 less interest. And as the Cumberland went down, 
 Bill muttered, 'I am blowed if this don't beat all 
 that I ever saw !' 
 
 After the Cumberland went down the Merrimac 
 turned upon the Congress and speedily destroyed 
 her ; the Minnesota and several other vessels were 
 injured more or less, and the Confederate gun-boat 
 as if satisfied with its day's labor, returned up the 
 river to its former place of anchorage. 
 
 That night, as I sat with Bill Logan and Dan 
 Eliott by the beach overlooking the scene of the 
 day's conflict, I was completely discouraged and 
 said it was of no use to deny tlie situation. We 
 have no ship strong enough to meet that terrible 
 monster and it will destroy every thing. 
 
 *Oh, don't give up so easy,' said Bill Logan. 'I 
 have seen things look desperate before this. I was 
 shipwrecked once, and for six days sailed on a 
 hen-coop in the Atlantic ocean with a piece of 
 oar for a mast and my shirt for a sail. All the 
 provisions I had was a few hard-tack in my pocket 
 
132 IVi/l Ne-juto7i^ 
 
 and a small cask of water, and I came out all rigfht. 
 I tell you the Lord is watching- all these things and 
 will brinof them around strano:elv sometimes.' 
 
 'That is so, gentlemen,' chimed in Dan Eliott. 
 'It is wonderful how a kind Providence often opens 
 the way for a man's escape and relief wdien he least 
 expects it. Why, I remember in '51, I had been 
 out from 'Frisco for several weeks among my mines 
 up in the foot-hills. I had been having awful hard 
 luck. No gold in the mines. The claims would 
 not sell for any thing and I went back to 'Frisco 
 dead broke. That is a pretty hard position for a 
 man who is thousands of miles from home and 
 among strangers ; but a kind Providence seemed to 
 guide me. I went into a little dirty saloon without 
 dust enough to pay for a supper, and there I found 
 a lot of greasers who had been up in the mines and 
 struck it rich. They of course wanted to play, and 
 although r was tired and hungry, I concluded to 
 accommodate them. Now, gentlemen, you know 
 that I always play an honest game. For once, I 
 had a big run, and when daylight dawned I had 
 piled up dust to the amount of a cool ten thousand. 
 I have never lost faith in Providence since then.' 
 
The Vomtg Vohinteer. 133 
 
 *But,' I questioned, 'do you really believe, Dan, 
 that Providence aided you in winning all that money 
 from the poor greasers? Was it not by your own 
 superior skill that you secured it?' 
 
 'Well,' replied the other, 'I never stop to split 
 hairs ; of course I played the cards for all they were 
 worth, and I have always noticed that God helps 
 those who help themselves.' 
 
 'But,' persisted I, 'do you think it was right to 
 win all their money?' 
 
 "Well,' some one had to get it from them,' replied 
 Dan, 'and perhaps the Lord was well pleased to 
 have it fall into the hands of a white man who 
 would make a good use of it. But all these things 
 are past. I never shall play cards again. I was not 
 advocating the playing of cards, but only showing 
 the kindness of Providence ;' and thus the matter 
 ended. 
 
 Early on Sunday morning every one in and around 
 Fortress Monroe was astir, all anxious to see what 
 would on that day transpire. A new feature had 
 appeared during the night, for in the morning there 
 was a strange vessel in Hampton roads ; a most sin- 
 gular and insignificant looking craft. 'What do 
 you suppose it is?' I asked Bill Logan, the next 
 
134 Wi'll Newton^ 
 
 morning, as we stood and looked at it through the 
 
 mists. 
 
 'Don't know,' replied the other. 'Looks much 
 like the hen-coop of w^hich I spoke last night, or as if 
 some old lady had sent a wash-tub, or a cheese box 
 adrift out in the harbor ; but I w^ouldn't be surprised 
 if it was some sort of a gun-boat that our folks 
 have constructed to attack that rebel Merrimac' 
 
 'I can hardly believe,' I remarked, 'that the Gov- 
 ernment would send so small a craft to meet that 
 great monster.' 
 
 'You can't always tell by the size,' replied Bill. 
 'Sometimes little things are mighty powerful, and 
 we shall see before night what that little fellovr is 
 made of.' 
 
 Before noon the thousands of spectators saw the 
 huge Confederate steamer once more approaching, 
 and to the delight of all, the little black Monitor 
 pushed out to meet her. 'She's got grit enough, 
 anyway,' muttered Bill Logan, as he saw the Mon- 
 itor steam for its antagonist. The battle opened. 
 We all expected each moment to see the Monitor 
 go down before her mighty foe ; but in this we were 
 happily disappointed, for the little gun-boat not only 
 managed to keep afloat but made a pretty good fight. 
 
The Young Volunteer. 135 
 
 'If I was in the habit of betting,' said Dan Eliott, 
 'I would go five to one on the little Monitor ; for 
 she is a trump and an ace at that.' 
 
 The hours passed and these two gigantic warriors 
 were engaged in a most deadly conflict. Great 
 globes of iron were hurled with terrific force against 
 each other but fell harmless from their iron sides. 
 As the battle progressed the Monitor became more 
 bold and aggressive. Round and round its great 
 antagonist it steamed, planting its blows with won- 
 derful rapidity and skill. The Merrimac was evi- 
 dently becoming weary of the conflict, and turning 
 its head sadly away steamed slowly back up the 
 river. 
 
 'She is whipped or I am a sinner !' yelled Bill 
 Logan. And all the men went wild with joy as 
 they beheld the result of the conflict. 
 
 'I always believe in Providence,' remarked Dan 
 Eliott, as the Confederate monster disappeared from 
 view. 
 
 The few days passed around Fortress Monroe 
 have been very eventful ones to me." 
 
 Will Newton was a most careful observer of men 
 and events and not a day passed without adding some- 
 thing to his store of knowledge. He was much 
 
136 Hy/l Ne~JL'to7i. ■ 
 
 interested in the colored people and frequently at- 
 tended their religious meetings. He was also anx- 
 ious to meet some of the Southern planters, to learn 
 by conversation with them, what their opinions 
 were concerning the war ; to ascertain upon what 
 they based their right to wage war against the gen- 
 eral government. To gain this desired information, 
 'he often took long rides into the country, and as he 
 was an excellent horseman, he derived much pleas- 
 ure from these trips. He often called at the plan- 
 tations which he passed, and was always received 
 with that genial hospitality for which the Southern 
 people are distinguished. Frequently he would dis- 
 cuss the situation with the old planters, and thus 
 discovered that the old doctrine of State Rights was 
 2X the foundation of all their secession heresies. 
 
 He had called at a plantation one day, some ten 
 miles from the picket line, and as he had frequently 
 been there before, he received a very kind salutation 
 from the family. They invited him to remain and 
 take dinner with them ; and as he was about to con- 
 sent, a colored man who was just passing the open 
 door of the room, gave him a very significant look. 
 His suspicions were somewhat aroused, and he 
 politely declined their invitation. His horse was 
 
The Toiuig Vohmteer. 137 
 
 hitched at the gate, and as he went from the veranda 
 to the horse he passed the colored man, who said 
 in a low tone, ''De Confeds. are on de road above 
 and below de house ; take de wood road to de left 
 as you pass into de woods yonder, and ride like de 
 debil." 
 
 That was warning enough. Will sprang easily 
 into the saddle, and waving an adieu to the family 
 who were still standing upon the veranda, he trotted 
 slowdy away in the direction of his regiment. As 
 he entered the wood, he saw the rough wood road 
 referred to by the darkey ; for a moment only he 
 hesitated; then pressing the spurs to the flanks of 
 his noble horse, he dashed down the rough and. 
 abandoned road. For a mile or more, no sounds 
 were heard save the clatter of his own horse's feet, 
 and he was beginning to think that for some cause 
 he had been misinformed, when a loud and peculiar 
 call was heard at a distance in the wood on his left ; 
 a moment later, a similar one w^as heard at his right. 
 Ah! muttered Will to himself, that means business. 
 Now for a race, and his steed dashed ahead as if 
 aware of his master's danger. As he rode on, 
 Newton bitterly upraided himself for his foolishness 
 in being so far from camp without even permission. 
 
138 Will Newton, 
 
 from his commanding officer. It is bad enou2"h he 
 thought, to be killed or captured on the field of 
 battle ; but to be caught in a scrape like this ! and he 
 urged his steed to increase his speed. Soon, to his 
 great discomfiture, he saw three horsemen in the 
 road before him, not over half a mile away. 
 
 They were coming towards him at a round trot. 
 He knew at a glance that they were Confederate 
 cavalry. His first thought was to fly in the opposite 
 direction ; but a glance over his shoulder showed 
 him a large party of horsemen coming up in the 
 rear. There was a dense forest on either side, and 
 without doubt there were foes concealed there to 
 cut oft' all hope of escape in that direction even if 
 he should undertake it. Whatever was done must 
 be done quickly ; for the horsemen in front were 
 almost within hailing distance. His mind was 
 immediately made up. He could see but one chance 
 of escape. He knew the horse which he rode, and 
 what he could depend on him to do. Newton drew 
 a white handkerchief from his pocket and held it 
 for a flag of truce above his head. The horsemen 
 were coming up three abreast ; they were savage 
 looking fellows and well armed ; one of them 
 waived his hand as if in response to the white flag, 
 
The Young Volunteer. 139 
 
 and thus each parly advanced until not half a dozen 
 paces intervened between them. Will was the first 
 to speak, and asked, "Gentlemen, what do you 
 want ?" 
 
 "A Yankee of about your size," was the reply. 
 "All right, then," said Newton, "here I am." 
 He w^as then within ten feet of the Confederates. 
 Now or never, he thought. Bracing himself in the 
 saddle, he drove the spurs into the flanks of his 
 horse and veiled w^ith all his mio^ht. With a 
 tremendous bound the frightened animal sprang 
 forward. The Confederates and horses were alike 
 unprepared for such a movement. There was a 
 terrible collision. Will cluns: to his horse which 
 went bounding at a break-neck pace down the road. 
 Two of the Confederates went prostrate, horses and 
 all in a heap together. Will heard loud shouts, and 
 looking back saw a parly of horsemen coming at 
 full speed. Now for a race, thought Will. He had 
 but little fear of their being able to overtake him. 
 His only fear was that he might meet more of them 
 before he reached camp. His pursuers soon saw 
 that it would be a diflicult task to catch him, and 
 began to fire their carbines at him. The bullets 
 
140 Wi7l Nevjton. 
 
 went above him, on either side, but horse and rider 
 escaped them all. 
 
 After an hour's ride the country became more 
 open, and at last with great joy he saw the Union 
 picket line and knew that he \vas safe. In a short 
 time he rode into camp. He w^as so chagrined at 
 the danger he had encountered that he never spoke 
 of it in camp, but he wrote a full description of it 
 to his friend Temple, at Harvard, and also to the 
 Lamb's, at Maplewood. Will Newton wisely con- 
 cluded that "discretion was the better part of valor," 
 and from that day he made no more excursions 
 beyond the Union picket line. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 It will be impossible for me to desciibe all that 
 Will Newton passed through while on the Peninsular 
 campaign. His regiment was one of the first to 
 engage in the seige of Yorktow^n ; and while the 
 tardy movements of General McCellan were irksome 
 to the adventurous spirit of the young volunteer, 
 he found much to interest him as the seige advanced. 
 The wonderful results of civil engineering^. The 
 great redoubts. Line after line springing as if by 
 magic from the ground ; huge guns in position, with 
 smaller lines of defense. 
 
 The men were very anxious for the day to arrive 
 when they should open all this enginery of war 
 upon the enemy ; but in this they were doomed to 
 disappointment ; for just as the preparations for the 
 bombardment were completed, it was discovered 
 that the place had been evacuated by the Confed- 
 erates. 
 
 Lieutenant Newton's regiment was one of the 
 first to lead in the advance on Williamsburg, and it 
 
 lO 
 
142 Will Newt 071^ 
 
 played an important part in that bloody battle. To 
 it was assigned the task of seizing a strong Con- 
 federate out-post manned by two full Confederate 
 regiments. They were to chai^ge in light marching 
 order. Their knapsacks and baggage were piled 
 upon the ground, and at the given signal they 
 dashed across a field to seize the coveted position 
 half a mile away. Gallantlv thev went forward in 
 the midst of a murderous fire. Their line never 
 wavered for a moment, when thinned, as it sadly 
 was, by the shots and shells of the enemy, it closed 
 up as if on parade, and dashed onward. The brave 
 colonel led the assault, and seeins: in it his lono- 
 looked for opportunity, resolved to be the first man 
 to mount the Confederate breastworks. Will New- 
 ton haa determined to do the same thing, and onward 
 the men dashed. Newton ^v[^s watchins: the colonel 
 so very closelv, and straining everv nerve to keep 
 pace with him, that he did not see the progress 
 made by a few other men. and when to his great 
 joy, as he sprang upon the breast works, at the same 
 instant he saw both Logan and Eliott among the 
 Confederates, capturing prisoners bv the dozen. 
 
 It was a glorious victor}^, and the regiment had 
 ^von great distinction by its brilliant conduct. They 
 
> 
 
 m 
 
 > 
 
 a 
 c! 
 
 O ^ 
 
 «#*: *i*&i^ 
 
The young Volunteer. 143 
 
 had lost several men who were killed, and many 
 others were wounded. The former were buried 
 carefully, and the wounded were tenderly carried to 
 the ambulances, and sent to the hospitals. 
 
 From Williamsburg they went to White House 
 Landing, and soon after that, participated in the 
 battle of Fair Oaks. Here Newton's regiment 
 occupied a very dangerous position and did most 
 effective service. They held their post nearly all 
 day against the superior Confederate forces which 
 were hurled upon them. Man after man went 
 down. The captain and first lieutenant of 
 Newton's company were wounded and carried 
 from the field, and the command of the company 
 devolved upon Lieutenant Newton. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, the Confederates being 
 re-inforced, made an over\vhelming charge, and the 
 noble little band of survivors were swept back in 
 defeat. Bullets came like a pitiless leaden rain upon 
 them, and the conquering Confederates with wild 
 3'ells followed in pursuit. Not far however, did the 
 Unionists retreat before they rallied, reformed their 
 line, and once more presented an unbroken front 
 to the enemv. 
 
144 ^^'^^ Newton^ 
 
 Among the missing was Sergeant Logan. "Who 
 saw him hist, and where was he then ?" anxiously 
 demanded Newton. 
 
 "I saw him in that chmip of bushes, not ten 
 minutes ago," said one pointing to some undergrowth 
 not over sixty yards in their front "He was un- 
 harmed, but nearly surrounded by rebels." 
 
 "Let us go in search of him," shouted Newton; 
 and without waiting to see who followed him, or to 
 think of the great danger he would incur by so 
 doing, he dashed for the clump of small trees which 
 had been pointed out to him. The Confederate 
 skirmishers soon saw him and bullets went hum- 
 ming like bees around him. 
 
 "Lieutenant, we are alone, but \ve will do the 
 best we can." 
 
 Newton looked, and for the first time saw that 
 Dan Eliott was the only mmi in the company who 
 had the hardihood to follow him in his perilous 
 luidertaking. 
 
 There was the sound of a desperate struggle in 
 the bushes ; and heedless of all else, the two men 
 rushed in. They fomid the object of their search 
 unharmed, save a score of slight wounds ; but he 
 was most sorely pressed. He was surrounded by 
 
The Tou7ig Volunteer. 145 
 
 three or four Confederate soldiers, who were 
 endeavoring to capture him. In the struggle, they 
 had all thrown down their guns, and were eno-ao-ed 
 in a hand-to-hand conflict. Bill Logan was now in 
 his native element. The gallant Southerners found 
 that they had caught "a tartar." The roar of guns 
 were almost deafening ; the bullets were cutting the 
 branches of the trees around them ; but these men 
 intent only upon the business at hand, struck and 
 fought on. 
 
 When Newton and Eliott arrived, they had 
 managed to evade the tremendous blows which 
 were falling from Logan's fists, and had clenched 
 him. Logan did not see the friends who were 
 coming to his relief, but supposed the advancing 
 men were Confederates ; but he was not dismaved. 
 "Come on with your grapphng irons," he yelled. 
 "Come on with your whole rebel fleet, you will 
 find that you have struck the hardest craft that sails 
 these waters." These words were not mere boast- 
 ing. With one hand he caught a man by the 
 throat ; it was a grip of death. The victim's eyes 
 rolled in their sockets, and he fell lifeless. 
 
 At that moment, Xewton and Eliott reached the 
 combatants. The surviving Confederates were taken 
 
146 lFi7l N'ezvton^ 
 
 prisoners and hurried within the Union lines. 
 Logan was Hterally covered with sHght wounds, 
 and Newton urged him to go to the rear and have 
 them dressed. 
 
 "Not a bit of it," said the brave fellow. "I don't 
 propose to go below in a storm, I want another 
 chance at those fellows before the sun sroes down to- 
 night." 
 
 That night Will Newton asked Logan how he 
 came to be so far in the rear when the reg-iment fell 
 back. 
 
 "It was like this," responded Logan. "I thought 
 w^e would be able to hold them back ; and I did not 
 slip my cables when the rest did, and in a moment 
 about every sail had disappeared. I then decided 
 to w^ork my way back slowly and pick off a few of 
 the foremost as I went. The trouble was, however, 
 that I did not go fast enough. I worked my way 
 back to the bushes, and thought it best to make a 
 stand there, and see what' the situation was. Every 
 thing Avent well for a time ; the winds were fair, 
 and looking out through the bushes I had a good 
 view of the rebels and could take a fair aim at them. 
 I heard some inen in the bushes behind me, and 
 supposing that they were our fellows, turned around 
 
The Toitng Volunteer. 147 
 
 to speak to them ; but I found that they were rebels. 
 There were some six or seven of them. I saw that 
 my only hope was in putting my best foot foremost ; 
 so I called upon them to surrender, and ran towards 
 them as if I had power to surround the whole squad. 
 One of them in a most ungrateful manner put his 
 gun to his shoulder and blazed "away right in my 
 face and the bullet just grazed my ear. It w^as an 
 inexcusable blunder for him to miss me when I was 
 so near. Of course I had to return the compliment ; 
 and wdien I fired he concluded to go below for 
 repairs. The other fellows called on me to sur- 
 render. I ouess thev thoug-ht that I did not know 
 what that meant, for I kept on fighting. That 
 made them mad, and they dropped their guns and 
 sprang upon me. They threw out their grappling 
 irons, and I met them as best I could. I used to be 
 quite a man in a tussel of that kind, so I was not 
 much alarmed. When I heard you and Dan Eliott 
 coming I thought you were Confederates, and of 
 course I began to think that all hope was gone ; but 
 your arrival saved me sure." 
 
 The battle of Fair Oaks was ended. A large 
 portion of the Federal dead and seriously Avounded 
 had been left on the battle field and fell into the 
 
1 48 Wi7/ Newton^ 
 
 hands of the Confederates ; the dead to receive a 
 hast\' burial, the wounded to be treated as prison- 
 ers of war. Thus closed the battle of Fair Oaks. 
 Upon that field the Union soldiers could look upon 
 the spires of Richmond. That vision did not 
 gladden their hearts again for long weary months ; 
 and not until thousands of brave men had fallen 
 upon scores of battle fields. 
 
 The Union army sustained heavy losses during the 
 progress of the campaign. The losses on battlefields 
 had not kept pace with those caused by sickness. 
 The climate on the peninsula was very unhealthy, 
 and the deadly malaria of that region told with fear- 
 ful effect upon the Union troops who had not be^ 
 come acclimated in the least degree. The regiment 
 of Will Newton had already lost over one-half of 
 the men it had mustered for duty when it had landed 
 at Fortress Monroe. The colonel had not been in- 
 jured ; but a large proportion of his officers were 
 killed or disabled with wounds. The regiment had 
 fought as bravely as even its ambitious commander 
 could desire, and won for itself so much honor that 
 ts fame extended through the whole army. Tt par- 
 ticipated in the famous seven days battles of Gen. 
 McClellan's retreat to Harrison's Landing on the 
 
c 
 
 r 
 
 D 
 
 o 
 
 to 
 > 
 
 O 
 ?^ 
 
 CO 
 
 > 
 O 
 
 o 
 o 
 
The Young Vol u nice?'. 149 
 
 James river ; and it was with a grateful heart that 
 the young volunteer at the head of his little compan}' 
 of men saw that the fearful retreat was at an end. 
 There had been no rest or sleep all those days, but 
 a series of marches and battles by which McClellan 
 made one of the most remarkable movements of 
 the \var. The men were ragged, foot-sore and com- 
 pletely exhausted ; and the first twelve hours after 
 reaching Harrison's Landing were spent lying upon 
 the ground in a sweet delicious sleep. 
 
 They remained at that point for several days, and 
 while there Newton found time to call upon many 
 of his friends in the regiment ; but that task was a 
 very sad one because so many of the men with 
 whom he had formerh^ associated were now missing. 
 It was also arranged to have a prayer-meeting while 
 they were there. In the open air, one sweet, 
 summer evening, it was held. A large company 
 was present including the colonel and other officers. 
 Hymns were sung, prayers offered and words of 
 Christian experience were spoken. As the service 
 was about to close, at the request of the colonel, the 
 wdiole company present bowed in prayer, asking for 
 God's blessing to rest upon them as they went forth 
 to other fields of conflict. 
 
150 m/i Navtoii. 
 
 Lieutenant Newton stood very high in the estima- 
 tion of his brother officers at the close of the disas- 
 trous peninsular campaign. For as a boy only sev- 
 enteen years of age, he led his company through all 
 those fierce battles with the courage and coolness of 
 a veteran. His modesty was equal to his bravery, 
 and by his kindness to all, he disarmed any hostile 
 criticism that might otherwise have been made. But 
 he was very much disappointed and humiliated over 
 the barren results of the campaign which had been 
 inaugurated but a few weeks before upon so large 
 a scale. Like the majority of soldiers in the army, 
 he believed that it was possible for Gen. McClellan 
 to have moved forward and captured Richmond ; 
 and that in doing so his losses would have been no 
 greater than they were in making his retreat, while 
 the fact was also apparent to all, that his retreat from 
 the vicinity of the Confederate Capital would pro- 
 long the war and indefinitely postpone its capture. 
 Newton's regiment however soon embarked on 
 board a transport, and while en route from Har- 
 rison's Landing at Alexandria, he wrote a lengthy 
 letter to his old friend Jerr}- Lamb. In closing it 
 he used language something like this : — 
 
The Young Volunteer. 151 
 
 "I cannot understand the movements we have 
 been making. I have had full faith in General 
 McClellan, but how can I account for his retreat? 
 We were so near Richmond at Fair Oaks, that w^e 
 could see the spires of the churches. The men all 
 believe that we could have entered the town. I feel 
 so badly that sometimes I almost wish that I was 
 sleeping with our brave boys at Fair Oaks. Their 
 death was honorable and even desirable when com- 
 pared w4th this disgraceful abandonment of the 
 campaign ; a disgrace in which we are all obliged 
 to participate. Of course we shall soon meet the 
 victorious Confederates again. I understand that 
 General Pope is preparing to receive them out be- 
 yond our old battle field of Bull Run. I hope that 
 I am not a braggart or a fanatic, but I do feel in my 
 heart that on the next field of battle it will be either 
 victory for the Union army or death for myself. At 
 any rate, I hope never to disgrace you or my friends 
 in Maplewood." 
 
 If young Newton truthfully stated his desires in 
 that letter to his friend, he was doomed to a bitter 
 disappointment, for his regiment arrived at the front 
 only in time to engage in the two bloody battles of 
 
152 Will Newt 071, 
 
 Chantilly and the second Bull Run, from both of 
 which fields the Union army commanded by General 
 Pope, was driven in the most disastrous defeat. 
 
 By a singular coincidence after the battle of the 
 second Bull Run, Will Newton's regiment was en- 
 camped for several days very near the old quarters 
 which they had occupied the previous winter, and 
 from that place we find hini once more writing to 
 his friend Lamb in Alaplewood, as follows : 
 
 "We are on Arlington Heights once more, to re- 
 main, I suppose, but tor a few days. We are within 
 a stone's throw of our last winter's encampment. 
 We have passed through many dangers since then. 
 Great changes have taken place ; over <^ne-half of 
 the men vs'ho then formed ourreo^iment have left us, 
 a large number being either killed outright or have 
 died from the wounds which they have received. 
 Qtiite a portion of them were converted in our meet- 
 ings last winter. I am so grateful that they made 
 their peace with God and were thus prepared for 
 death. It is my prayer each day that I may also be 
 ready when I am called. Every thing here is in a 
 most demoralized condition. It has been nothing 
 but defeat all the season thus far. It is not for me 
 
The Toiing Volttnteer. 153 
 
 to say where the blame rests. It is rumored that 
 the Confederate army, under General Lee, is cross- 
 ing the Potomac river near Harper's Ferry, to in- 
 vade Maryland and Pennsylvania. Our men are all 
 in good spirits. If our commanding generals were 
 as efficient as our men, all would l)e well. My health 
 still continues good. My old friend, Bill Logan, of 
 whom I have so often written, is also well ; but he 
 came very near death or capture at the battle of 
 Fair Oaks. Dan Eliott, the converted gambler, 
 whom I have already mentioned, is the bravest man 
 I ever saw. There is something mysterious about 
 him that I cannot understand. He is the best sol- 
 dier in our company. I will write you from the 
 next battle field if I am. alive and able to do so. As 
 I have written you before, I shall endeavor to do 
 my duty whether the lesult be victory or defeat, life 
 or death. We are under marching orders, and will 
 soon meet our enemies again." 
 
 While the army was being re-organized, Lieut. 
 Newton's time was completely occupied in writing 
 letters, looking after the interests of his men and 
 drilling the large number of recruits sent forward to 
 fill the thinned ranks of his company. The arrival 
 
154 Will Ne-wton^ 
 
 of these recruits and the many amusing incidents 
 arisincr from their lack of experience in army mat- 
 ters, afforded much diversion and amusement for 
 the old soldiers. One of these recruits, with a must 
 doleful look upon his face, walking along the 
 street in Newton's company the morning after his 
 arrival, with several mouldy hard biscuits in his 
 hands, was accosted by a waggish veteran who met 
 him, — "Why on earth don't you go and get some 
 soft-tack r" 
 
 "Where can it be had?" asked the other, as the 
 shadow fled from his countenance. 
 
 ^,'Go up to that large tent and tell the colonel that 
 you have come for your soft-tack, and it will be all 
 right," replied the wag. 
 
 Up the unsuspecting fellow walked, knocked 
 boldly at the colonel's tent, and when that officer 
 appeared at the door to ascertain the cause of his 
 coming, the recruit with the greatest amount of 
 confidence informed him that "he had come up to 
 get his rations of soft- tack." Of course the colonel 
 understood the joke, and with a hearty laugh sent 
 the victim back to his company with his wants un- 
 supplied. 
 
The Toinig Volunteer. 155 
 
 Another one of this class was standino- at his tent 
 door soon after his arrival looking ruefully upon 
 his soiled collar which had been white a few days 
 before. He saw that the usefulness of the article 
 in his hands was forever destroyed, and he was 
 wondering where another supply could be obtained ; 
 for he did not then understand that white collars 
 had been fearfully discounted in the arm}'. The 
 fellow's situation was soon observed bv several of 
 the boys, and one of them whose sun-burnt neck 
 had not been enclosed by a collar for more than a 
 year, asked the recruit where he expected to get his 
 collars. 
 
 "I don't know," was the desjDondent reply ; "How 
 do you fellows get along?" 
 
 "Oh, said the veteran, when we o-et out we 
 usually make out a requisition and send it in for 
 them." All the necessary information was soon 
 obtained, and the grateful, but verdant soldier pro- 
 ceeded to make out a list of the number of boxes of 
 collars needed ; the size and stvle beins: sfiven with 
 great precision. 
 
 "Now what shall I do with it?" he queried. 
 
 "Oh, go up and give it to the quartermaster," said 
 the other. "He is a savaore old fellow and will scold 
 
156 Will Newton^ 
 
 and bluster ; but he draws his pay for his work and 
 you hang to him." 
 
 Up to the quartermaster the fellow walked almost 
 feeling the inspiration of the new clean collars 
 around his neck. The quartermaster ^vith a large 
 force of clerks wei*e busily engnged upon their 
 accounts, for there had been necessarily much con- 
 fusion in this department during the previous cam- 
 paign. It being a business call, the recruit did not 
 stop to knock, but entered the tent and walked up 
 to the officer, holding out his paper and saying : 
 "There is a requisition which you will please attend 
 to immediately." The quartermaster was so deeply 
 absorbed in the bills for rations, clothing, muskets 
 and epuipments, that for a moment he did not 
 notice the intruder ; and the latter with some vigor 
 repeated his statement. The officer looked at him 
 sharply a moment, and then surmising that the man 
 Avas the victim of some joke, and not being in a 
 sportive frame of mind himself, savagely remarked, 
 "You get out of this tent !" But the recruit stood his 
 ground. His comrades in the company had warned 
 him \vhat to expect, and he was determined to 
 have his rights. To the utter amazement of the 
 angry officer he replied, "Now look here, old fellow ; 
 
The Young Volunteer . 157 
 
 don't put on airs to me, the government pa}V5 you a 
 good salar}^, and you have got to attend to your 
 business, or I will know the reason why I" He was 
 interrupted by the quartermaster, who, livid with 
 passion, sprang to his feet, and with a volley of 
 indignation seized the recruit by the shoulder and 
 hurled him from the tent. The crest-fallen man 
 then comprehended for the first time that he had 
 been sold ; but derived some satisfaction as he went 
 back to his comrades to have them gather around 
 him and exclaim, "The quartermaster is an awful 
 man when he is aroused." And thus the men who 
 but a few days before fought like veterans in battle, 
 were sporting like boys while in camp. 
 
 11 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 The army of the Potomac was once more on the 
 march in search of its old enemy. The Confed- 
 erate army had crossed the Potomac river, invading 
 the States of INlaryland and Pennsylvania, seizing 
 large quantities of grain and much stock which 
 they were transferring across the river to Virginia. 
 
 The Union army once more under the command 
 of General McClellan. was marchino^ throuo^h 
 Maryland in the direction of Frederick city to inter- 
 cept the Confederates. It was early in the month 
 of September, and the beautiful State of Maryland 
 Avas then seen at its best. Its fertile fields were 
 covered with magnificent crops which were just 
 being harvested ; the great orchards were burdened 
 with fruit ; cattle were grazing peacefully upon its 
 hill-sides until they were alarmed by the sounds of 
 war. 
 
 Frederick city was reached by the advance of the 
 Federal army, but the Confederates had evacuated 
 the place, and were reported as being some twenty 
 
The Toung Volunteer, 159 
 
 miles away to the westward, where they were wait- 
 ing for their foe to attack them, in the passes of the 
 South Mountain. The citizens of Frederick all 
 eave thrillino; accounts of the destitution and 
 demoralization apparent in the army of General 
 Lee. His soldiers were ragged, barefooted, and 
 almost starving. The Federals had high hopes that 
 the coming battle would be the decisive one of the 
 war. They pressed on and soon came in collision 
 with the Confederates in Turner's Gap and in South 
 Mountain pass. The conflict was short, sharp and 
 desperate. The Confederates were driven back, 
 and the Federals crossed to the west side of the 
 mountain. Had General AlcClellan pressed the 
 pursuit with vigor, the Confederate army could then 
 have been crushed in detail before it had time to 
 concentrate its widely scattered divisions ; but wuth 
 that element of fatal delay always seen in his cam- 
 paigns, much time of great value was lost; time 
 that was well improved by the skillful Confederate 
 commanders. 
 
 • On the night of September 16, the two great 
 armies were encamped on the banks of the Antie- 
 tam — that narrow stream between them. Early on 
 the morning of the 17th, the battle began. Will's 
 
i6o IVi/l Newton^ 
 
 regiment was on the extreme right of the Union 
 line, under th^ immediate command of General 
 Hooker. They being in the front line, became 
 engaged with the enemy at an early hour. Their 
 antagonists were a portion of Hood's Texan brigade 
 and among the most gallant troops in the Confed- 
 erate service. Newton's regiment was ordered to 
 drive the rebels from a narrow strip of wood in 
 their front and across a corn field bevond. After 
 a sharp struggle, the Confederates "^vere driven across 
 the field, the Unionists pursuing them savagely. 
 The bra^■e Texans halted in the woods beyond, and 
 poured such a deadly fire upon the Federals that 
 their advance was checked. They stood in the edge 
 of the corn field and poured their fire upon tlie 
 Confederates in the woods. Suddenly, and with 
 terrific vengeance, the Confederates charged upon 
 them. The struggle was short and deadly but the 
 Confederates were repulsed. They were soon re-in- 
 forced, and again threw themselves upon the Fed- 
 erals. The latter held their ground firmly, their little 
 line seeming: to be but a flame of fire. The conflict 
 lasted until both lines were completely shattered. 
 The Confederates, receiving more re-inforcements, 
 pushed their foes backw^ard. For a time the Federals 
 
The Young Volunteer. i6i 
 
 went slowly ; but finally as if by common consent, 
 broke and ran for the shelter of the wood behind 
 them. 
 
 The colonel, who already had several horses shot 
 under him, was still riding among his men, the 
 very incarnation of heroism, and as if he bore a 
 charmed life. Encouraging them to stand firm, he 
 dashed down to the left of his regiment hoping to 
 hasten up some re-inforcements ; and it was during 
 his temporary absence that his men fell back to the 
 wood. Not knowino^ that, dashino; back throusfh 
 the smoke to find his regiment, he suddenly found 
 himself among the most advanced of the Confed- 
 erates. They called upon him to surrender, but he 
 endeavored to escape. He had managed to ride out 
 from among them, and was approaching the wood, 
 when a full volley was fired at him, and the horse 
 and his rider both went down together. Will 
 Newton saw the peril of his beloved commander, 
 and shouting ; "Boys, we must rescue our colonel !" 
 He dashed towards the fallen man who was fully 
 two hundred yards distant. Instantly the men 
 followed him with a cheer, and ran across the field 
 that was red with blood and swept by the enemy's 
 fire. Will Newton was a swift runner, and on this 
 
1 62 Will Nezvton^ 
 
 occasion bis anxiety almost gave him wings. When 
 he reached the fallen officer all his men were Tar in 
 the rear save one ; that man was brave Dan Eliott^ 
 A score of Confederates confronted them and 
 hundreds more were hastening up. There was no 
 time to lose ; both men sprang in front of their dis- 
 abled leader to protect his person with their lives. 
 
 At that moment Newton received a blow over 
 his head from the stock of a Confederate rifle and 
 fell senseless upon the form of the colonel. Dan 
 Eliott stood alone with clubbed musket to beat them 
 back, but a rifle ball shattered his left hand and 
 arm, and his musket fell at his feet. The rebels 
 cheered and rushed upon him. Eliott glared around 
 him like a maniac. Upon the ground he saw a 
 huge, heavy cavalry saber ; he caught it up in his 
 right hand and fought like a demon ; bare headed, 
 his left arm shattered to atoms, he stood above the 
 forms of those whom he was determined to defend. 
 His eyes gleamed w^ith intense passion, all the fires 
 of desperation kindled by association with miners 
 and Indians seemed to burst forth in a livid flame. 
 The saber swept through the air, making a circle 
 around him, andw^herever it came do\vn there was 
 death. The brave Texans shrank back beyond the 
 
The Toiing Volunteer. 163 
 
 point of that dreaded weapon and began to fire 
 upon the hero who stood before them. A shot 
 entered his leg, another went tearing through his 
 cheek ; a cruel ball went crashing through his breast, 
 and as he fell backward he saw that his comrades 
 had arrived and that his charge was safe. 
 
 The battle was soon over upon the Federal right, 
 and a little group of men could have been seen just 
 in rear of the line of battle ; the wounded man 
 lying upon the ground was Dan Eliott ; the others 
 were Will Newton, Bill Logan and one or two 
 comrades. Newton had been bathing the temples 
 of the wounded man with water ; he opened 
 his eyes ; a smile of joy came to his lips as he saw 
 Newton, and he hoarsely whispered, "How are 
 you r 
 
 "All right," said Will. "I was only stunned by 
 the blow I received." 
 
 "And the colonel?" 
 
 "Is badly used up," replied Will. "A shot in the 
 shoulder and a broken leg at least." 
 
 « 
 
 "Newton, raise my head higher if you can," 
 feebly said Dan Eliott. "I want to say a few things 
 to you if I have strength." 
 
164 Wi// Ne'wto?!^ 
 
 The head of the wounded man was gently raised 
 and a knapsack placed beneath it. Once more the 
 purple lips of Eliott were moistened with water, 
 and after a moment's silence he began : "It is of no 
 use to waste words ; I am a dying man. I knew 
 when I faced them fellows alone that they held the 
 winning hand ; but I was determined to make them 
 earn their money. Thev have succeeded in doing 
 what a o^reat many other men have failed to do ; but 
 they had to pay for all the honor they won. Now 
 there are some things I would like to tell you if you 
 will consent to listen to me ; I have carried them in 
 my ow^n breast for many years ; I shall die easier if 
 I can talk them over with some one." 
 
 "My dear friend," said Newton, "proceed ; I will 
 gladly listen, for I owe my life and liberty to you." 
 
 "It is a long story and I fear that you wnll get 
 tired ; but I am so weak that I can not talk very 
 fast. I w^as born in the state of New York in tSi6, 
 so that I am now^ forty-six years old. I lived in 
 New York until I w as twenty-four years of age. 
 For two years I had been engaged to be married to 
 a girl whose father lived in my neighborhood. She 
 sickened and died ; my hope, light, love and life 
 were all buried in her grave. I thought that I should 
 
The Toiing V^oluiiteer. 165 
 
 become insane if I remained there 'and immediately 
 left home for Ohio, then considered a frontier State. 
 My family and friends knew nothing of where I 
 went. I was with trappers and Indians until the 
 gold fever broke out in 1849. During those years 
 I had tried to drown my great sorrow, but all in 
 vain. I drank, gambled, plunged into the wildest 
 of excesses, sought out the greatest dangers, but it 
 was of no use ; the fire in my heart continued to 
 burn until it seemed as if the very core of my life 
 would be eaten out. In 1S49, ^" company with a 
 party of hunters and Indians, I went across the 
 plains to California. I remained there eleven years 
 and made thousands of dollars, but the gold brought 
 me no satisfaction. I gave a^vay money like water 
 but always made more. In 1S60 I went with a 
 party of chums down through Mexico, and gold 
 poured in upon me there. Early in 1S61 I was 
 possessed with a desire to return to my old home. 
 I did so ; but mv relatives were all dead and no one 
 cared for me. I asked for Bob Eliott. A few re- 
 membered him and said that he had disappeared 
 many years before ; no one knew or cared where he 
 was. I found Mary's grave. Her family had all 
 removed to another portion of the country. I sat 
 
1 66 Will Ne-juton, 
 
 beside that grave for hours ; my brain was on fire,. 
 I dared not remain longer. I went to the parish 
 minister and gave him a bag of golden coins and 
 told him to build a monument over her grrave. I 
 rushed on to Boston, enlisted and soon afterw^ards 
 met you. Through your influence I became a 
 Christian man and thus found the only peace and 
 rest that I have known since I bade Mary 'good 
 bye.'" 
 
 Newton was listening with tears streaming down 
 his cheeks. 
 
 "Now^, Newton, if you will help me turn over a 
 little there is a pocket-book in my inside pocket that 
 I want." 
 
 Will Newton assisted his dying friend and soon 
 produced an old leathern pocket-book that had seen 
 many years of service. The cold fingers of Dan 
 Eliott, as \ve shall continue to call him, slowly 
 opened the book. He took therefrom a folded paper 
 handed it to his listener and said, "In San Francisco 
 I have ten thousand dollars. In that paper are the 
 certificates of my deposits ; also a paper legally 
 prepared by me when in Washington, wdiereby I 
 have transferred it to the parties whom I shall now 
 name : — Bill Logan is my tent mate ; if he lives to 
 
The 7'oung Volunteei'. i6j 
 
 obtain his discharge I want him to have one-half of 
 it; if he dies while in the army, his half goes to 
 you. The remaining half I have already assigned 
 to you by these papers, and in case of your death, 
 it goes to those persons whom you may name." 
 
 The astonished Newton was about to express his 
 gratitude, but the dying man forbade it. "I have 
 more to say and but a few moments to live. I am 
 not worthy to be buried beside Mary, and when I 
 am dead bury me in some cemetery near by. Put 
 me in some lowly corner ; do not mark the grave, 
 only give me a decent burial." 
 
 Another little package was taken from the pocket 
 book, a small article tied up in thin tissue paper. 
 Feebly he unrolled it ; a little old style picture, faded 
 by time, bruised and scarred, was in his hand. "This 
 is Mary, my Mary," he murmured, as with stream- 
 ing eyes he gazed upon it. "Bury this with me. 
 Ah, Mary ! we have been separated for a long time. 
 I know you have not forgotten me. I am coming 
 over the range ; you will see me before the sun goes- 
 down." A sweet, child-like smile played upon his 
 dark features. "I am coming, Mary," he softly- 
 whispered, and he was dead. 
 
1 68 Will Neivton, 
 
 Will Newton was overwhelmed with gfrief. He 
 threw himself beside the dead man and cried, "Oh, 
 my brave, noble, generous friend, I cannot give you 
 up." Bill Logan and a few others with sorrowful 
 hearts and tearful eyes gathered around to console 
 their friend. As soon as Will could command him- 
 self he called Bill Logan aside to explain matters to 
 him, so that in case of his death Logan would not 
 be deprived of his legacy. 
 
 When Bill was made to understand what his com- 
 rade had left him, he too, broke down and wept as 
 if his heart would break. As he was trying to rally 
 from his emotion, he said, "Newton, excuse me ; 
 it is not often that I run at the scuppers like this, 
 but just to think that poor Dan should do so much 
 for me. It is more than I can stand." 
 
 New^ton and Logan arranged to divide the night 
 between them watching the remains of their friend, 
 and on the following morning Will Newton rode 
 back to the small village of Boonsboro, just w^est of 
 the South Mountain Gap, in full view of the battle 
 field and purchased a lot in the little cemetery for 
 his friend. It was a beautiful lot under the shade 
 of a noble oak. A good casket was secured. The 
 whole company marched down with reversed arms 
 
The Young Volunteer. 169 
 
 to the funeral, and stood with uncovered heads while 
 the village pastor performed the burial service. 
 Three vollies were fired above his grave, and his 
 comrades said "good bye" to all that was mortal of 
 Dan Eliott. 
 
 Young Newton, on tlie following day, went to a 
 lawyer and had the papers given him by Eliott so 
 arranged, that in case of his death the money should 
 be paid to the order of Jerry Lamb, to be held by 
 him in trust to be used for the benefit of orphan 
 children in the village of Maplewood. All the pa- 
 pers with explanations were then sent to Mr. Lamb. 
 
 "Don't it beat the world !" said the latter. "That 
 boy always finds friends ; and then see what confi- 
 dence he puts in me. Well, I only hope he will live 
 to come back and enjoy the fortune he has so unex- 
 pectedly gained." 
 
 For several days after the battle of Antietam, the 
 Federal troops were busily engaged in burying 
 their dead, and also those of the Confederates who 
 had been left upon the battle field, for General Lee 
 in making his skillful and rapid retreat across the 
 Potomac had left a large portion of his dead un- 
 buried. Will Newton walked across the field while 
 the various details of troops were thus occupied, 
 
1 7© Will Newton. 
 
 and ^vas thus enabled to see what a terrible slaughter 
 there had been in both armies during the battle. It 
 was a v^ery sad spectacle thus presented to his view ; 
 hundreds of lifeless men, who but a short time be- 
 fore were among the flower of the hostile armies, 
 now cold and dead. The burial parties becoming 
 accustomed to handling the dead bodies, buried 
 them much as they would have buried mere ani- 
 mals. The great object being to get them concealed 
 from view. Thev were buried in trenches, and where 
 tw^enty or more could be covered, placed in a single 
 trench ; also in smaller and larger numbers as the cir- 
 cumstances would warrant. In some instances where 
 it was not convenient to dig trenches, the bodies 
 were thrown into deep wells and then covered with 
 earth and rocks. 
 
 Many persons delight to speak of the glories of 
 war ; but such scenes as Will New^ton witnessed 
 upon the battle field of Antietam, taught him that 
 at best war is only murder on a tremendous scale, 
 
 and in a most aggravated form. And while he, in 
 his intense loyalty for his country, saw the necessity 
 of all Union men standing in defense of their flag, 
 he deeply deplored the fact that such a terrible con- 
 flict had been forced upon the country. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 A few days after the events narrated in the pre- 
 ceding chapter, Will Newton was suddenly seized 
 by some disease, the symptoms being those of 
 typhoid fever. The surgeons, after a critical exami- 
 nation of his case, decided that absolute quiet and 
 rest was necessary. "But where can that be 
 obtained .?" wearily asked the patient, as he turned 
 upon his coarse blankets. "I will go and find you 
 some such a place," kindly responded the surgeon, 
 as he left the sutiering man. 
 
 A few hours later, the surgeon returned, and 
 reported that he had found a splendid place for his 
 patient. A fine Union family of wealth and intel- 
 ligence who lived but a short distance from the 
 battle field, had kindly consented to have the young 
 officer removed to their home where he could 
 remain until he was fully recovered. The matter 
 was soon arranged. Bill Logan was to go with him 
 as an attendant, and an ambulance soon conveyed 
 
172 Will Nezvton^ 
 
 Newton and his friend from the tent of the former 
 to the hospitable mansion of Judge Johnson. 
 
 The members of Will Newton's company were 
 all very sorry to ha\'e their commander leave them. 
 They shook their heads sadly as the ambulance 
 rolled away; one of them remarking, "We shall 
 never see him again." ''I fear that we shall not," 
 responded another; "and I am very sure that we 
 shall never see another officer like him." After 
 exchanging many remarks about Newton's kindness 
 and bravery, the men dispersed to their quarters. 
 
 The family of Judge Johnson gave Will Newton 
 a genuine Southern welcome, and gladly did all in 
 their power to aid in the work of recovery. Old 
 "mammy," the colored nurse, who had been in the 
 family from the time that Judge Johnson was born, 
 was to her great delight appointed as special nurse 
 for the young man. 
 
 "Golly, guess ole mamni}- kin fetch the voung 
 ossifer round if any body kin," proudly remarked 
 the old woman, as she took her station by his side. 
 "Pears like as if ole massa Linkum had sent de 
 chile he-ar for ole mammy to take care of. Guess 
 massa Linkum am a berry lebel-headed man, and 
 dis chile wdll show him dat he is not mistooken in 
 
The Toung Yohniteer, 173 
 
 his obpinion." But notwithstanding the skill of 
 physicians, the kindness of friends, the attention of 
 ole mammy and the watchful care of Bill Logan, 
 there w^ere long days and weeks of suffering for 
 Will New^ton to pass through. His nervous system 
 had been completely exhausted, which with the 
 terrible blow he had received upon his head, nearly 
 sent him to his grave. For a number of davs he 
 was completely unconscious of all events transpiring 
 around him ; but notwithstanding all the unfavorable 
 conditions in his case, the crisis was successfully 
 passed, and he began slowdy to recover. Not a day 
 had passed but what a delegation from his company 
 had visited the house to inquire after their com- 
 mander ; and their solicitude for his welfare revealed 
 the great love which they cherished for him. 
 
 Before Will Newton had recovered, the army of 
 the Potomac was once more under marching orders, 
 and Bill Logan was preparing to return to his regi- 
 ment. One afternoon, he sat beside the bed of 
 Newton, and as they engaged in conversation, 
 Logan remarked, ''I shall return to our company 
 to-morrow and I have one favor to ask of you before 
 I go." 
 
 13 
 
174 ^^^^ JVewfon, 
 
 "What is it, Bill?" replied the other. 
 
 "In case I should be killed before I see you again 
 that I may be buried there beside Dan. Do you 
 suppose that if he was able to speak he would 
 object?" 
 
 Newton was much afiected by the solemn words 
 and manner of the other, and endeavored to laugfh 
 at his fears. "Of course you shall be buried there 
 when you die if you desire it : but Logan, you will 
 live to go back to New England and make several 
 voyages around the world yet." laughed Will. 
 
 But Logan only shook his head. "My next voyage 
 Will, is one from which no one returns, a shoreless 
 sea ; but I am not afraid to go." 
 
 "Do not go back to the regiment," interrupted 
 Newton. "You shall not oo. I can have vou detailed 
 to remain with me until I return." 
 
 "No," answered Bill ; "that would not be right; 
 I have enlisted with the rest, and shall stand my 
 reo^ular watch and share mv danger with them. I 
 have made all mv arrangrements to ofo in the morn- 
 ing."- 
 
 "Why do you feel so positive that something is to 
 happen ?" inquired Newton. ' ^ You have been watch- 
 ing with me so long you have become nervous." 
 
r 
 
The Young V^oJunteer. 175 
 
 "Not at all sir," said Logan. "I have had a dream, 
 don't laugh now ; but in a dream it has all been made 
 plain to me." 
 
 "Oh, it is only a dream," laughed Will, "and 
 they always turn out just opposite from what we 
 expect them to be. Now I am sure you will live 
 for fifty years, and we will, when we get home, 
 enjoy life together." 
 
 "No ! No I" interrupted the other. "Dreams of 
 this kind do not come to pass in opposites. I never 
 had but one like it before, and God knows that came 
 to pass with a terrible reality." 
 
 "Tell me about it, "said Will, hoping to divert his 
 companion's mind from the painful theme upon 
 which he had been talking. 
 
 "I don't care to spin the yarn," remarked Logan ; 
 ■"but I will do so if you care to listen. It took 
 place a number of years ago, when I was about 
 twenty-five years of age. We were on the Indian 
 ocean ; our voyage had been very successful up to 
 that time. We had a fine ship of some fifteen hundred 
 tons ; our officers and crew were all excellent 
 sailors, but a very profane lot of men, and I was 
 as bad as an}' of them. The old man was a tiger ; 
 good and kind to his men, but a terrible fellow to 
 
176 Wi'/l Newton^ 
 
 make things rush. The wind had been favorable 
 and we were flying day after day with every inch 
 of canvas spread. The old man was delighted and 
 swore that he \vould make the quickest voyage ever 
 inade. One night my watch turned in at midnight ;. 
 the sky was clear and the sea smooth as glass ; the 
 ship was making about nine knots an hour. 1 soon 
 fell asleep, and \vhile in that condition, saw as 
 plainly as I see you a typhoon strike the ship and 
 make a complete ^vreck of it. The typhoon came 
 directly from the point we were making, while for 
 a few leagues on either side of it there was perfect 
 calm, and consequently, safety. I saw the whole 
 thing ;the masts going by the board ; the ship on her 
 beam ends ; the crash of timbers ; the shouts and 
 srroans of the men ; the howlino-of the storm ; mak- 
 ing up a scene I shall never forget. I awoke, and 
 springing from my hammock, rushed on deck. 
 Every thing was as calm as it was at midnight. I 
 returned to my berth, but could not sleep. The 
 dream had made such an impression upon me, that 
 early in the morning, I went into the cabin and told 
 the whole thing to the old man and pleaded with 
 him to change the course of the ship a few points, 
 that we might thus escape the danger of the coming 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 177 
 
 storm. He only laughed and said, "Boy, you are a 
 little cranky and frightened. Here, take a stiff 
 glass of grog ; it will stiffen you up.' I refused the 
 liquor, and after having once more pleaded with 
 him to change his course, without avail, I left him. 
 The day passed as several of the preceding ones 
 had. Late in the afternoon the barometer began to 
 fall ; but there were no visible indications of a storm. 
 At sunset the air became thick and close ; the sky 
 looked red and angr}-, and as the night came on, 
 the captain ordered a part of our canvas to be taken 
 in ; but the good ship still plunged, on at the rate of 
 seven or eight knots. Suddenly it grew dark ; the 
 air seemed to shiver as if it was frightened at some- 
 thing and the wind began to sigh and whistle 
 through the rigging. The old man gave orders to 
 take in sail. We all sprang to obey, but it was of 
 no use. The typhoon had struck her, and in less 
 than three minutes, ship and all had gone down. 
 
 A few minutes later the storm had passed and I 
 found myself clinging to a piece of timber. The 
 sea soon became smooth, but I w^as the only survivor. 
 The next day, I was picked up by a passing ship, 
 and learned that the track of the storm \vas so 
 narrow, that if we had changed our course in either 
 
178 Wl/l Ne-jcto)?, 
 
 direction for a few hours run we should have escaped 
 it entiielv. I tell vou that some dreams must not be 
 laughed at." 
 
 "That was indeed a singular case," replied New- 
 ton. "But what about the one you have just spoken 
 of, that which makes vou so solemn V 
 
 "Well, I can tell vou in a short time and Avith 
 few^ words," continued Logan. "I went to sleep 
 this morning a little after one o'clock and dreamed 
 just as I did before. I saw our regiment in a terrible 
 battle ; a large portion of our men were soon killed 
 or wounded, and we were defeated. Just as we 
 were about to fall back, and when I w\as in the act 
 of encouraging the boys, a rifle ball went through 
 my breast and I fell. I wxnt through the wdiole 
 process of dying as naturally and actually as I ever 
 shall ; things around me became diin and indistinct, 
 w^hile I appeared to see objects afar off, and I seemed 
 to float oft^ nearer to them. There were people on 
 the bank above me ; I was afraid that I did not have 
 strength to climb up ; some one put a hand down 
 and clasped mine ; I stood beside him, and do you 
 know, it was Dan Eliott, with a beautiful new^ 
 wdiite uniform on? I never saw him look so well, 
 and as he was making me feel at home I woke up. 
 
7he To7(}ig V^ohi7iteer. 179 
 
 It was all real to me. I shall see Dan before a crreat 
 while," — and arising- from the chair he left the room. 
 
 Will Newton was overwhelemed with his feel- 
 ings ; he was not superstitious, but in his weak 
 physical condition he could not help feeling that 
 some sad disaster was about to overtake his old 
 friend. Gladly would he have made Lo^an remain 
 with him, until he should return to his resfiment, 
 but Logan persisted in returning before the com- 
 mand crossed the Potomac river, and on the day 
 follow^ing the conversation narrated above, after a 
 tender farew^ell, Logan and Newton separated. 
 
 For several days after Logan's departure Will 
 Newton's mind was filled with fearful forebodins^s : 
 but as the days passed his old cheerfulness returned. 
 Orders had been issued from head-quarters for all 
 the sick and wounded to be removed to Baltimore 
 and Washington, and W^ill Newton was obliged to 
 leave his pleasant quarters. His host offered to con- 
 vey him to Washington ; which otter Will gladly 
 accepted, and by easv stages tiiey made it a most 
 pleasant journey. 
 
 On arriving at Washington they drove directly 
 to one of the principal hotels until Will could ascer- 
 tain in what hospital he was to be located. As he 
 
I So Ji ill Ncxvtnn^ 
 
 was passing up the steps of the hotel leaning upon 
 the arm of his Maryland host, he was surprised to 
 hear his name called several times by some person 
 who was striving to push through the dense crowd 
 to reach him. You can imagine his surprise when 
 his old comrade, Harry Temple, threw his arms 
 around his neck and received him with the gfreatest 
 manifestations of joy. 
 
 As soon as Harry could speak he exclaimed, 
 "My father is here !" and turning to a noble, digni- 
 fied gray haired man, he said, "Father, this is my 
 old friend and comrade, Will Newton." 
 
 Mr. Temple received Lieut. Newton in the most 
 cordial manner and again thanked him for all that he 
 had done for his boy. Newton explained to them 
 w^hy he was there and that he knew not where his 
 home would be while in the city. 
 
 "You shall remain here at the hotel with us," 
 remarked Mr. Temple ; "for we are to remain here 
 several weeks. It will afford me great pleasure to 
 entertain you as my guest." 
 
 "I am very grateful, sir," replied Will ; "but you 
 forget that I am a soldier and under the command 
 of superior officers. I must go wherever they send 
 
 me." 
 
The loung Volunteer. i8i 
 
 '^Have no fears on that score," replied the other. 
 "I am on intimate terms of friendship with both 
 the President and the Secretary of War, and either 
 of them will gladly grant me this small favor." 
 
 So it was arranged that Will should remain at 
 the hotel. 
 
 The days passed rapidly. His old friend had 
 much to tell him of college life and a thousand 
 questions to ask about the regiment. There were 
 drives and receptions, for Will's Massachusetts 
 friends introduced him to the highest circles of soci- 
 ety, and the time passed very pleasantly to them all. 
 
 Early in December, Nevs^ton received a telegram 
 from his colonel informing him that he would be in 
 Washington on a given date, en route for the front 
 to regain his regiment, which was then near Fred- 
 ericksburg, where General Burnside was preparing 
 for a battle. 
 
 New^ton determined to go to the front with him. 
 In vain did his friends urge him to remain ; so he 
 bade them farewell, and in company with the colonel 
 left Washington for Falmouth, a small village in 
 Virginia near Fredericksburg. 
 
 On their route the two friends chatted like 
 school boys. The colonel informed Will that his 
 
1 82 Will Nezvton, 
 
 wounds were not all healed and his broken les; 
 was so weak that he was compelled to use both a 
 crutch and cane when he walked. '*! fear," laughed 
 the colonel, as he looked upon Will's pale, thin 
 countenance, ''that they will think we are not much 
 of a re-inforcement ; I, on crutches, and you so thin 
 and wasted ; but I could not bear the thought of the 
 regiment going into the battle without being there 
 to share the dangers with them. But, by the way, 
 Newton, what became of that soldier who defended 
 us in the corn field of Antietam } At that time I 
 was partially unconscious as I lay beneath my horse ; 
 but I could see him, bleeding from a dozen wounds 
 and swinging that bloody saber, as he kept at least 
 twenty Confederates at bay. It was the most daring, 
 reckless exploit that I ever saw. I was talking with 
 the Governor about it last week, and he intimated 
 that if the man w^as living he should be rev^'arded 
 with a commission for his bravery." 
 
 "Poor Dan Eliott is dead," sadly rem^arked New- 
 ton. "He died that very day. He received a mor- 
 tal wound just as our men arrived and I'escued us." 
 
 And thus the two brother officers passed the 
 hours, and as the sun was sinking from view behind 
 
The Toujig V^olunteej'. 183 
 
 the hills across the Rappahanock river, they reached 
 the encampment of their old command. 
 
 The regiment was out on dress parade when the 
 colonel and Will appeared upon the parade ground 
 in front of them. When the men saw them all dis- 
 cipline w^as for a single moment forgotten, and to 
 the great surprise of the officer in command, who 
 had not noticed the arrivals, threw their caps in the 
 air, giving three rousing cheers for the colonel, and 
 three more for Lieutenant Newton. 
 
 The regiment was speedily dism.issed from the 
 parade and the men by scores flocked around the 
 new comers to give them a hearty welcome. 
 
 As soon as it was possible W^ill Newton went to 
 his company. The captain had recovered from the 
 effects of the wounds which he had received at the 
 battle of Fair Oaks, and was in command. Logan 
 was almost overcome with joy to see Newton again. 
 The regiment was under marching orders, and on 
 the following day they moved in the direction of 
 Fredericksburg. The colonel and Newton rode in 
 an ambulance as neither of them was able to march. 
 
 That night they bivouacked on the Stafford hills, 
 across the Rappahanock river, directly opposite the 
 city. Will Newton and Logan shared each other's 
 
184 W7// Newton. 
 
 blankets for the night and conveised in low tones 
 long after then- comrades were asleep. Newton 
 purposely avoided all mention of the matter which 
 had pressed so heavily upon Logan's mind when he 
 bade him good bye in Maryland. They talked of 
 the past, from the time when they first met each 
 other, and of the many subsequent adventures 
 through which they had passed, and what they would 
 do if they should live to return to New England. 
 But Will Newton could see that Logan's apparent 
 cheerfulness was all assumed and that some melan- 
 choly subject was pressing upon his mind ; silently 
 he raised his heart in prayer for the safety of his 
 friend during the coming battle. It was past mid- 
 night before they bade each other good night. There 
 was but little sleep for Newton, however ; he was 
 thinking of the friend beside him. Bill Logan slept 
 soundly, though occasional murmurings would come 
 to Newton. He listened, but could only hear him 
 say, "Yes, Dan, I am coming." And thus the night 
 passed slowly away. 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 The battle of Fredericksburg bad been raging for 
 several hours with desperate fury before the regi- 
 ment of Newton was ordered across the river. Ear- 
 lier in the day a consultation had been held by the 
 colonel and Newton to decide as to how they should 
 get into the battle, as neither of them was able to 
 walk a great distance. The surgeon and all the 
 officers advised them to remain where they were, 
 but neither ot them would listen to that for a mo- 
 ment. So it was finally arranged that they should 
 both go on horseback. 
 
 It was quite late in the afternoon when they 
 were ordered across the riNer. The battle was be- 
 ing decided against the Federals, and their division 
 was designated to make a charge and thus endeavor 
 to carry the famous stone wall and the heights be- 
 yond. Their line was formed in rear of the city 
 and within point-blank range of the Confederate 
 guns. The colonel and Will Newton were the only 
 wounded officers in the regiment on that occasion. 
 
1 86 Will Ne-wton^ 
 
 It was a reckless undertaking: for them to endeavor 
 to ride across the open field every square inch of 
 which was raked by the enemy's fire ; but if they 
 did not ride they could not go, and they ^vould not 
 consent to remain behind. The order v^^as given. 
 The regiment sprang to its feet and upon the double- 
 quick dashed across the field towards the Confeder- 
 ate works. A murderous fire was poured upon 
 them but they pressed on. Much to Newton's dis- 
 gust, before he had proceeded far, his horse was shot 
 dead, and not being able to keep up with the men 
 he was obliged to return to the city and with the 
 deepest anxiety wait for the result of the conflict. 
 There could be but one result to such an undertak- 
 ing. The desperate valor and reckless sacrifice of 
 life could avail nothing against such odds, and the 
 regiment in common with the whole division, was 
 hurled back after having- sustained a fearful loss. 
 
 Will Newton, as he was endeavoring to find the 
 remnant of his regiment, saw a small squad of his 
 own men coming back bearing one of their com- 
 rades on a blanket ; his heart sank as he saw them. 
 Sadlv they laid their burden at his feet. It was the 
 form of Bill Logan. He was dead. Will was 
 overwhelmed with grief, and his comrades, think- 
 
.,, .-.-.r^v'TVi-Tsiw.riTr.^^^T^^rVif 
 
 
 n 
 
 > 
 
 O 
 w 
 
 n 
 
 > 
 
 w 
 
 2 
 
 O 
 
 > 
 
 o 
 
 WW 
 
 C 
 
 O 
 
The To7ing Vohinteer. 187 
 
 Ing to assuage his sorrow told him of Logan's prow- 
 ess and daring. No other man, they said, went so 
 near the Confederate works as did he, and when 
 the regiment could go no farther, Logan sprang out 
 in front of the line, waving his hat and callino: for 
 the men to come on. He was immediately shot 
 down, and as his men rushed forward to recover his 
 bodv, he onlv articulated the words, ''Dan, I am 
 
 coming;-." 
 
 ''Brave, good man." murmured Will. "I do not 
 know how I can live without you. Logan and 
 Eliottboth gone ! I feel that I am left alone." New- 
 ton had the body of his friend carried across the 
 river, and detailed two of his men to gfuard it until 
 the battle was decided. 
 
 On the foUowins: morninof he obtained leave of 
 absence, as he was unable to perform active service, ^ 
 and conveyed the remains to Washington, and«from \^ 
 thence to Boonsboro, Maryland, wliere he buried 
 them beside those of Dan Eliott. iVfter a week's 
 absence he returned and found his regiment near 
 Falmouth, at which point they w^ent into winter 
 quarters. 
 
 General Hooker was soon placed in command of 
 the armv, and a thoroug^h re-ors^anization of the 
 
iS8 Will Nezvton, 
 
 whole Federal army was made. Those officers who 
 were disabled or inefficient, were asked to resign, 
 and worthy men promoted to fill their places. The 
 colonel of Will Newton's regiment was promoted 
 to a Brigadier-general ; the captain of his company 
 was promoted to be Major of the regiment, while 
 Will Newton was made Captain of the company, to 
 the great satisfaction of all his men. But much 
 work and responsibility devolved upon him in this 
 new position ; and he straightway undertook the 
 work of making his compan}- the best in the regi- 
 ment. 
 
 There were many ways in which he worked to 
 accomplish this result. He visited all the tents 
 
 ^ AVithin his command, talked pleasantly with his men, 
 learned much about their families left at home, and 
 
 \ >f the circumstances surroundino" them. He took 
 special pains to have all the wants of the men sup- 
 plied so far as he possibly could ; the sick were 
 given special attention, and manv luxuries were 
 provided for their use by the thoughtfulness and 
 generosity of their beloved commander. He thus 
 won the confidence of each man. They all came to 
 understand that the captain was their special friend, 
 and who would do all in his powder to aid them 
 
The TotiJig Volunteer. 189 
 
 whenever they needed assistance. They in turn 
 asked themsehes how they could repay him for the 
 kindness thus shown ; and when he informed them 
 that it was by good behavior and discipHne on their 
 part that he was to be repaid, each man immediately 
 lesolved to assist in making the company the model 
 one of the regiment. 
 
 Not many weeks went by before they were 
 23ointed out on drill at dress parade, in camp and 
 on review, as the Banner Company of the brigade. 
 Once each week. Captain Newton arranged to have 
 a fine dinner for the wdiole company ;vegetables and 
 all necessarv materials were purchased at the brigade 
 commissarv and placed in the skillful hands of the 
 company cook, who would, in double-quick time, 
 produce a delicious repast for the men. These 
 were special seasons in the history of the company, 
 and at such times, all rank was laid aside, and Will 
 New^ton came forth from his tent with dish and 
 spoon to take dinner with the boys ; and by his 
 own wit and boyish entliusiasm did much to add to 
 the joy of the occasion. Some of his brother 
 ofHcers were a little jealous at the popularit}" of the 
 young captain with his men. One of them sneer- 
 inglv remarked, that if he only had the wealth 
 
 13 
 
ic)0 Will Newton^ 
 
 possessed by Newton, he too, could provide dinners 
 
 for his men. 
 
 ^'Perhaps so," said Will. ''Let us estimate for a 
 moment the cost of some of our purchases. How 
 much do you expend each week for cigars, my dear 
 
 sir.^" 
 
 "Oh, but a little," said the other. "Not over fifty 
 cents a day perhaps." 
 
 "How much for liquors?" queried Newton. 
 
 "Very little indeed," was the answer. "Two 
 dollars a week will cover that." 
 
 "Yes, said the other, "but a number of you have 
 organized a social club, and three evenings each 
 week you have suppers. Now, how often does your 
 turn come to provide the wine supper?" 
 
 "Once a month only," replied the officer. 
 
 "And how much does that cost?" asked Will. 
 
 "About twelve dollars." 
 
 "Well, sir;" resumed Newton; "let us figure 
 this up ; your tobacco each week is three dollars 
 and a half; vour liquors cost two dollars more, and 
 vour wine supper averages about three dollars a 
 w^eek, making a total aggregate of eight dollars and 
 fifty cents each week, at your own estimates, which 
 are probably below their actual cost to you. But 
 
> 
 
 o 
 
 O 
 
 H 
 O 
 
 
The IToung Volunteer. 191 
 
 eight dollars and fifty cents each week is consider- 
 ably more than the amount which I pay for the 
 benefit of my company." 
 
 "That may be," somewhat tartly responded the 
 other; "but a fellow wants a little fun and enjoyment 
 out here. There is work and danger and hardships 
 enough and I want some enjoyment to even the 
 thing up." 
 
 "Very true, sir," replied Newton. "But I doubt 
 after all if you derive any more pleasure from your 
 methods than I do from mine. It is just grand to 
 have all your men love you, and to know that you 
 are helping those who are so situated that they can- 
 not help themselves ; at any rate I prefer my plan to 
 yours." And at this point the matter was dropped 
 by mutual consent. 
 
 A weekly prayer-meeting was sustained in the 
 company, and Captain Newton very often went to 
 the tents of his men and joined with them in family 
 prayers. One night, at the close of a very hard 
 day's work, he chanced to be in comipany with the 
 chaplain of the regiment and several other officers, 
 when they were approached by a soldier in a faded 
 uniform who was anxiously inquiring for the chap- 
 lain. He stated that his brother was sick and dying ; 
 
1.92 Wi'll Newton^ 
 
 he wanted some one to pray Avith him ; there was- 
 no one in his own regiment on whom he could call 
 for that service and he had come for relief. 
 
 '•How far is your regiment from here?" asked the 
 chaplain. 
 
 "About three miles I think, sir," said the soldier. 
 
 "Well, it is now about dark and beginning: to rain 
 I do not see how I can go," replied the chaplain; 
 ^'and I have very many sick men in my own regi- 
 ment to look after. The Government ought to have 
 a chaplain in each regiment." 
 
 "That is so, "rudely laughed an officer ; "can hard- 
 ly expect one man to do the praying for the whole 
 army, can they.-" And a loud laugh followed this 
 jest. 
 
 The soldier with a sad face and tearful eyes 
 turned a^vay. Captain Newton immediately fol- 
 lowed the man from the tent and accosted him with, 
 "My good fellow, 3-ou look tired and sad." 
 
 "Yes, sir :" and the man burst into tears. Trying 
 to recover his composure he added, "You will par- 
 don me. sir, but my heart is nearly broken ; poor 
 Jim has been sick ever since the battle at Fred- 
 ericksburg : he is much younger than I am, so he 
 kind 'o leans on me. I have taken care of him 
 
The Youiig l^olunteer. 193 
 
 nights, and done all my work days, so that I am 
 almost worn out. To-night, Jimmy felt that he was 
 dying and wanted some one to pray for him. He 
 talked so much about it that I said he should have 
 some one. I am not worth a cent to pray myself, 
 and there was no one in our regiment that would. 
 I heard that up here you kept a man who w^as paid 
 by the Government to do nothing but pray, so I 
 tramped up here ; but he won't go. Poor Jim will 
 feel awful bad when I tell him that there is no one 
 in the army to pray for him." 
 
 "Wait here a moment," said New^ton ; and he 
 ran to the quartermaster's tent where he borrowed 
 a heavy coat and two horses, and vaulting into the 
 saddle, and leading the other horse to the waiting 
 man, ordered him to mount and lead the way. Out 
 in the darkness they rode making all possible speed, 
 the high mettled horses throwing the mud all over 
 them as they dashed on. 
 
 "Here we are, sir," said the guide, as they 
 halted in a company street beside a small tent. A 
 soldier standing near took the horses, and the two 
 men stooping low, entered the little tent. A short 
 piece of candle very dimly lighted the tent. Ever}'- 
 tthing had been done that was possible to make the 
 
194 Will Newton^ 
 
 tent comfortable for the invalid who laid upon the 
 rough couch. He was but a boy, fair and delicate, 
 who was evidently in the very last stages of a quick 
 consumption. He opened his blue eyes as they 
 entered, and gazed wistfully into their countenances. 
 
 The elder brother threw himself upon his knees 
 beside the bed, and kissing the thin, upturned face, 
 cried, '^Dear Jim, he has come to pray with you.'* 
 
 "What! as mother used to pray?" feebly gasped 
 the young sufferer. 
 
 "Yes, as mother used to," kindly replied the 
 other. 
 
 Captain Newton, throwing aside his wet coat, 
 knelt down and took the sufferer's hands in his own 
 and asked, "iVre you very sick, my boy.^" 
 
 "Yes, sir;" was the w^iispered answ^er. "I am 
 so tired that I shall be glad when the end comes." 
 
 "And you wanted some one to pray .^" continued 
 the officer. 
 
 "Yes, sir ; read and pray. I didn't want to die 
 without it." 
 
 "Well, my boy, I have come to help you in that 
 matter." And Will began to repeat from memory 
 many passages of Scripture. 
 
 "Oh, they are so nice," whispered the dying boy ; 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 195 
 
 "and now I want vou to pray. Mother used to- 
 learn me a prayer that began with something hkc 
 'Our Father, who'art in Heaven,' perhaps you have 
 heard it ; and in it somewhere it said, 'forgive us 
 our sins.' Be sure and say that part very plainly, 
 sir, for I want my sins forgiven." 
 
 Will Newton's heart was touched by the earnest 
 simplicity of the boy's faith, and folding him in his 
 arms with his head resting upon his shoulder he 
 poured out his heart, asking God to smile in merc}^ 
 upon the suffering one. 
 
 Before the prayer closed he felt the head sinking 
 more heavily upon his shoulder. The boy was dead ; 
 but a sweet smile of peace and resignation rested 
 upon his countenance. Encouraging words of 
 Christian sympathy were spoken to the living, and 
 after giving him a generous sum of money. Captain 
 Newton returned to his regiment. 
 
 Thus the winter passed. There were many manly 
 sports introduced by the men in which the captain 
 joined most heartily. In playing ball, pitching 
 quoits, running races and other games, he excelled 
 all his competitors ; and without forfeiting his dig- 
 nity in the least degree he won the respect and con- 
 fidence of all. 
 
ic)6 Will N'ezvtoji^ 
 
 But the young officer did not find his experience 
 in the army devoid of all anxiety and trouble, for 
 occasionally things occurred which were very pain- 
 ful to him. During the winter that they were en- 
 camped at Falmouth, the general in command of 
 his brigade, one day extended invitations for some 
 fifty officers to dine with him. It was a most bril- 
 liantoccasion. Capt.Newtonandseveral other officers 
 from his regiment were included in the number in- 
 vited. The dinner was served in a lar^e tent and 
 the long table was well loaded with the bounteous 
 banquet. 
 
 They entered into the spirit of the hour with great 
 zest. Prominent on the bill of fare were wines and 
 liquors of all kinds which were served in the great- 
 est abundance. 
 
 Captain Newton noticed with regret that he was 
 the only guest at the table whose glass was not filled 
 and drained. This exception to the general rule 
 was unnoticed by the party until the glasses had 
 been emptied several times. Then, "the wine was 
 in and the w^it was out," and the exhilarating effects 
 of the liquor were plainly visible. An officer who 
 sat on the opposite side of the table from Newton, 
 
The Toiing Vohuiteer. 197 
 
 cried out, '^Gentlemen, we must look after Newton, 
 for he has not drank his liquor." 
 
 This outburst was followed by a chorus of cries 
 like the following : — "He lacks true pluck!" "A 
 sort of school ^j^irl I" "Guess he desig'ns to be a 
 parson !" "A man who won't drink, won't fight !" 
 "Give him some milk and water !" "Send him 
 home to his mother !" 
 
 Newton felt much embarrassed and very in- 
 dio^nant as he listened to these derisive cries from 
 his brother officers, and the tempter whispered to him 
 that for this time he had better compromise the matter 
 by drinking a glass of wine, and thus have all the 
 unpleasant features disposed of. But it was only 
 for a moment that he entertained the thought, and 
 he resolved to stand by his convictions for right 
 Avhatever the result should be. 
 
 In the midst of this drunken uproar he arose from 
 his seat determined to retire from the company. At 
 that point, however, the host, who occupied a seat 
 at the head of the table, arose and supporting him- 
 self by leaning upon the table, said in a tone of au- 
 thority, "Captain Newton will resume his seat!" 
 
 "Not to be insulted, sir," said the latter firml}-, 
 facing his superior officer. 
 
198 Wi7l Newton^ 
 
 "Oh !" responded the host, "we are all brave 
 men here. We are gentlemen. We pledge both 
 bravery and honor in these glasses, and it is both 
 ungentlemanly and cowardly to refuse to drink. "^ 
 At this remark a loud shout of applause ran around 
 the circle. 
 
 "Sir, I am your guest," replied Newton ; "and 
 as such I wish to show you all due respect, but I 
 shall not drink any liquors at your table ; and as for 
 bravery, there are at least as many opportunities to 
 display it on the field of battle as in a drunken de- 
 bauch like this. You speak of honor ; if such con- 
 duct as I see here is a specimen, I have no desire to 
 be an honorable man." 
 
 The company were almost appalled at the manly 
 words thus spoken. The host was beside himself 
 with passion. He brought his clenched hand down 
 with terrible force upon the table, and with an oath 
 he drew a revolver from his belt and rushed upon 
 young Newton, exclaiming, "No man shall insult 
 me at my own table !" 
 
 Captain Newton calmly folded his arms across 
 his breast and remained perfectly unmoved by the 
 threatening danger. The other officers here inter- 
 fered and led the host back to his seat. But the 
 
The Tou7ig Volunteer. 199 
 
 general immediately ordered Captain Newton to go 
 to his quarters and remain there under arrest until a 
 court martial could be convened to dismiss him in 
 disgrace from the service. There was of course 
 nothing for Newton to do but to obey, and he re- 
 turned to his tent. 
 
 He had been there but a short time however, 
 before his old friend, the former colonel of his regi- 
 ment, now a brigadier general, rode up to his tent 
 and invited him to take a ride with him. 
 
 "I am under arrest," replied Newton. 
 
 "For what.?" asked his friend in great surprise. 
 
 Captain Newton gave him all the particulars of 
 the case. 
 
 "The villain !" muttered the listener. "I will teach 
 him a lesson." ' 
 
 "What can you do?" asked Will. 
 
 "I shall place the whole matter before General 
 Hooker and you will hear from this with a ven- 
 geance before many hours," said the general, as he 
 bade his friend good-bye and rode away. 
 
 He went directly to the army head-quarters and 
 told the whole story to the erratic, impulsive, brave 
 commander. General Joe Hooker. "Old Fighting 
 Joe" was very indignant. He drew up his straight, 
 
200 Will Nezvton^ 
 
 soldierly form to its fullest height and ejaculated as 
 he walked rapidly back and forth across the room, 
 "I will teach him a lesson ! I command this army ! 
 I will have better discipline ! If an officer drinks 
 liquor, I cannot hinder it so long as it does not in- 
 jure him as a soldier ; but when he insults and 
 threatens to shoot and disgrace a man that does not 
 drink, it is outrageous ! I will put a stop to it I 
 That fellow^ shall be made an example of for the 
 whole army," and seizing a pen the old general 
 wrote a note to the officer against whom the com- 
 plaint had been made, of which the following is the 
 substance : 
 
 "You w^ill immediately release Captain Newton 
 whom you have placed under arrest. Apologize to 
 him and then send your resignation to these head- 
 quarters, and thus escape a court martial." 
 
 It is quite needless to add that before many hours 
 had passed. Captain Newton was released and a cer- 
 tain brigade commander in the army of the Poto- 
 mac resigned on account of his ill health. 
 
 But Will Newton soon discovered that many of 
 his brother officers did not cherish as friendly feel- 
 ings for him as he could have wished ; although his 
 regret on that account was amply compensated for 
 by the love and respect of the better class of officers 
 
The Toting Volunteer. 201 
 
 and all the enlisted men in the regiment. The 
 boys termed him the "soldier's friend, "and that title 
 was of more value to him than any honor that could 
 have been bestowed upon him. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 One embarrassing feature in Newton's experience 
 as captain, was the fact that within his company 
 w^ere several boys about his own age. They were 
 smart, bright, active fellows, as full of life and 
 mischief as boys can possibly be ; and while there 
 was nothing willful about them, they were always 
 playing practical jokes upon each other, and forag- 
 ing upon both the Government and the surrounding 
 citizens. Of course New^ton knew enough of human 
 nature to understand that such things must be ex- 
 pected on the part of the men ; but at times by their 
 thoughtlessness they placed him in most aw'kward 
 positions. Four of these young rogues occupied 
 one tent, and so notorious had become the exploits 
 of its occupants, that the tent was known as the 
 "forager's retreat;" and if the walls of that little 
 tent could have spoken, they would have told of 
 many bountiful meals eaten therein at the expense of 
 the Government, or of Virginia planters. But so 
 
'Ilie 7'oung Volu7iteer. 203. 
 
 adroitly were all these matters managed that the 
 guilty could never be detected. 
 
 One morning during the winter, near Falmouth, 
 there was a loud knock at Captain Newton's door, 
 and when opened to ascertain what w^as w^anted, 
 there stood before him a tall, lank citizen, clad in an 
 all butternut suit of clothes, with slouched hat, long 
 hair and beard. His errand w^as soon madeknow^n. 
 On the previous night his only porker, a fine fat pig 
 that he had been feeding with great care and which 
 he intended to slaughter in a few days for his own 
 use, had been stolen. The thieves had killed ^he 
 pig on the premises and carried the meat away ; 
 leaving a card fastened to the door of his house, 
 upon which was printed in rude letters, "Charge 
 the price of the pig to Uncle Sam." The outraged 
 man was of course very angr}- at this piece of 
 impudence, and through the mud and a heavy frost 
 upon the ground, he had tracked the thieves to 
 Captain Newton's company, and demanded that 
 officer to assist him in his endeavor to recover his 
 lost property. Newton of course informed him that 
 he would do all in his power to aid him, for he felt 
 indignant at the meanness of those w^ho would steal 
 the only pig a man possessed. 
 
204 lVi7l Newton^ 
 
 The company were immediately ordered to "fall 
 in." When the line was formed, a detail of four 
 men was ordered to search every tent in the com- 
 pany. Captain Newton expected of course that 
 when the "forager's retreat" was searched some 
 proof of the theft would be discovered, but no signs 
 of the lost piggy were there. When the search had 
 been completed, the report was that no indications 
 of the stolen property had been discovered. The 
 old Virginian departed, vowing vengeance upon the 
 whole Union army. 
 
 Nothing more was heard of the affair until on the 
 following day at noon, when one of the rascals who 
 occupied the ''foragers' retreat," stood coolly at the 
 Captain's door with a fine roast of pork done to a 
 turn. It w^as handed to the captain, and without 
 speaking the donor walked away. 
 
 After dinner, Will Newton walked down to the 
 "forager's retreat," and said, "Look here boys, you 
 managed that well ; for I did mv best to ascertain 
 if that pig was in the company, and failed ; and I 
 want you to tell me where you had it concealed V 
 
 One of the four owners of the tent, and the one 
 who on great occasions usually acted as spokesman 
 
 for them all, replied, "Captain, wx have the great- 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 205 
 
 est respect for you, and if you insist upon knowing, 
 why of course we must tell you ; but I hope you 
 will not make such a demand, for we are men of 
 honor and to give you the required information 
 will place us in a very awkward position." 
 
 "Whv so?" asked Newton. 
 
 "Because the pork was concealed in the tent of a 
 friend, and we do not want to implicate him." 
 
 "Was the pork in the regiment when the search 
 was made?" demanded the captain. 
 
 "Oh yes, indeed." came the reply. 
 
 "Then why was it not found?" asked the cap- 
 tain. "For every company was searched at the same 
 time." 
 
 "Because they did not happen to search the 
 officers' tents," replied the other. 
 
 "You do not pretend to tell me that the stolen 
 pork was concealed within the tent of any officer in 
 this regiment, do you?" demanded the surprised 
 Newton. 
 
 "Exactly," said the other very solemnly. "One 
 of the best officers in the whole regiment. One who 
 is a brave Christian man." 
 
 "What do you mean ? Who is it? I demand that 
 you inform me," ejaculated the astonished captain. 
 
 14t 
 
2o6 Will JVczv ton ^ 
 
 "Well, if I must, I must,'' said the other. ''You 
 see we got in with the pig just before the morning 
 roll-call ; w^e knew there would be a fuss and search 
 after it, and that we must put it in a secure place. 
 We concluded that the safest place would be where 
 they would least expect it to be found. So when 
 the old chaplain went out at the roll-call we got in- 
 to his tent and covered the pig up with his blankets. 
 Bibles, tracts and other things, so that no one would 
 have mistrusted that it was there." 
 
 The captain was half angry, but laughed until the 
 tears rolled down his cheeks. "You rascals !" he 
 exclaimed. "And so you concealed your stolen pig 
 in the chaplain's tent. Supposing it had been dis- 
 covered there, what would the chaplain have said.?" 
 
 "Well," replied the other, "he is a smooth 
 spoken old fellow, and would have gotten out of it 
 in some way." 
 
 "But how did you get your pork out of his tent 
 without being discov^ered.'" questioned Newton. 
 
 "Oh, nothing easier," said the other. "Tom here 
 had a very severe headache. We feared he would 
 have an attack of typhoid fever, and if he did, per- 
 haps he would die. So I went up and told the 
 chaplain about it and asked him to come down and 
 
The IToung Volujzteer. 207 
 
 make some consoling talk to him, and while he was 
 preparing Tom to die, Dick and I went up to the 
 chaplain's tent with a hard-bread box ; we put the 
 little pig into it and spread some religious papeis 
 and tracts over him. As we were leaving the tent, 
 the sergeant-major yelled out, 'What are you doing 
 there?' We answered, 'going to do some religious 
 work for the chaplain.' By the time we got back 
 here, Tom was prepared for eternity. So we hid 
 the pork until to-day and then cooked it. We hope 
 you liked your piece, captain.^ We had an awful 
 sight of trouble and work to get it, but good people 
 must always expect tribulation and trouble in this 
 world I suppose,"— and the young rascal turned his 
 eyes upward in the most approved fashion. 
 
 Captain Newton made a great effort to look severe 
 and then gave the boys some good advice in a kind 
 way, persuading them not to forage any more, bid- 
 ding them good day and -hoping that they would 
 follow his counsel. . 
 
 It was but a few days after this however, when 
 one of these four worthies was seen riding into camp 
 on a fine black horse. Newton immediately hailed 
 him and asked, "W^here did you get that horse .^" 
 
 "Bought him, sir ;" was the answer. 
 
.2o8 Wi'll Neivton^ 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "Down near Warrenton, sir." 
 
 "What did you buy him for?" 
 
 "To speculate on ; what will you give me for 
 him ?" 
 
 The captain shook his head and passed on. He 
 evidently had some fears as to the rightful ownership 
 of the horse. The soldier soon traded with the 
 quartermaster, and sold him the black steed for the 
 snug sum of one hundred and twenty-five dollars^ 
 The soldier of course to guarantee that he had a 
 perfect right to sell the animal. 
 
 On the following day there was a commotion in 
 camp. A gentleman residing a few miles away had 
 arrived, claiming the horse as his property ; it having,- 
 he stated, been stolen from his stable. The quarter- 
 master sent for Captain Xewton, who immediately 
 summoned the vender of horses from his company^ 
 The citizen claimed that the horse was his, while 
 the soldier insisted that he had bought him over 
 thirty miles away and paid seventy-five dollars for 
 him. The citizen stoutly argued that the horse was. 
 his and deplored its loss, as it was so kind an animal 
 that his daughter could ride him.. 
 
The yoimg Volunteer. 209 
 
 "Is there anything pecuHar about the feet of your 
 liorse ?" asked the young soldier. 
 
 *'No, sir;" said the citizen. 
 
 "About his shoes?" said the soldier. 
 
 "No, sir ;" said the other. 
 
 "Kind to ride on horseback?" 
 
 "Yes, sir; perfectly." 
 
 The lad persisted that his horse had been pur- 
 chased and paid for, and that it did not answer the 
 description given by the man of his property. The 
 horse was led out once more for the inspection of 
 the company. His feet were examined, and to the 
 surprise of all he wore those round shoes, worn by 
 horses w^hose feet are flat. The citizen was very 
 much chagrined. 
 
 "This horse is a perfect tiger when you mount 
 him," said the young soldier. "I will put a saddle 
 on him, and you see." He took him back to the 
 stable, and soon led him forth with saddle and 
 bridle. "Here he is, if any one wants to try him ; 
 he is an ugly brute." 
 
 "He is my horse and is as gentle as a lamb," said 
 the irritated citizen. "I will mount him myself." 
 
 "Be careful sir," said the young man, as he 
 handed him the reins. 
 
2IO Will Nexvton^ 
 
 With a withering look of contempt the gentleman 
 sprang into the saddle, but in a moment the horse 
 bounded into the air with a vicious scream of rag-e 
 or pain, while his heels went high into the air, and 
 the rider went heels w^ over the horse's head. 
 
 "Oh, just as I expected," sorrowfull}' exclaimed 
 the hopeful youth. '•'•He is an awful vicious animal." 
 The citizen was assisted to his feet, the horse w^as 
 captured and led back to the scene of the disaster ; 
 he was tossing his head defiantly as if anxious to try 
 it over again. 
 
 "I can't understand it." said the gentleman, as he 
 limped away ^vith many bruises. "He looks so 
 inuch like my horse that I could take my oath to 
 his identity ; but he is so vicious ! My horse was 
 perfectly kind. I must have been mistaken." 
 
 Several wxeks elapsed before Captain Newton 
 could obtain any clue to the mystery narrated above. 
 The four occupants of the "forager's retreat" looked 
 a little ashamed and crest-fallen when he met them, 
 but he wisely decided to ask them no questions about 
 the horse trade. He was passing their tent one day 
 and they invited him to enter. The leader of the 
 gang began, "Captain, you have always been kind 
 to us, and we feel condemned for having deceived 
 
The Young Volunteer. 211 
 
 you about that horse affair, and we want to tell you 
 all about it." 
 
 "I shall be pleased to have you do so," replied the 
 captain. 
 
 *'We told the tiling at the time about as it was,' 
 said the other ; "but there were a few incidental 
 matters which we did not put in. That old gentle- 
 man who came here after the horse has a colored 
 man working for him. Tom and I made this col- 
 ored fellow's acquaintance, and he told us that when 
 the rebels were here, the old man was a strong rebel, 
 and wdien we came, he was a loyal man ; so we got 
 a kind of prejudice against him. We arranged with 
 that black fellow to ride the old man's horse off 
 some six miles from home and then sell him to us. 
 He did so. We paid him seventy-five dollars for 
 the animal and he gave l^ack sixty of it to us. On 
 our way home with our horse we happened to think 
 that possibly he would be tracked, and got the bril- 
 liant idea of changing his shoes. A battery black- 
 smith was found wdio did the job for us. We brought 
 him home and you know the rest." 
 
 "But," said the captain ; "if he was a kind, peace- 
 able horse, I don't understand why he should kick 
 
213 Will NezL'tofi^ 
 
 and plunge so when his owner mounted hhn that 
 day." 
 
 *'Oh," said the other, "there was a little strategy 
 about that which you don't understand. When I 
 went to saddle the horse for the old gentleman I 
 chanced to have a small piece of leather in my 
 pocket \vith several sharp pointed tacks in it ; it had 
 been used as a hinge upon a small wooden box. I 
 chanced to think that it would be well to use that, 
 and so I placed it under the saddle in such a way 
 that the least pressure upon it would cause the points 
 to prick the horse's back. I cautioned the old gen- 
 tleman, but he was so headstrong that it was of no 
 use, and you know^ the result." 
 
 "Oh, boys," said Will, gravely, "that w^as too 
 bad ! I guess you went too far, and you had better 
 return the mone}- to the quartermaster and take the 
 horse to his owner." 
 
 "Well, captain, that seems a little hard, but we 
 are willing to do as you say ; but we don't want to 
 give ourselves away if we take the horse back. 
 Won't the old fellow go for us and make another 
 fuss.?" 
 
 "You return the horse and 1 will look after that 
 
The Tou72g V^ohaiteer. 213 
 
 matter," replied the captain ; "but bays you must 
 promise never to do any thing like this again." 
 
 The money was refunded to the quartermaster 
 and the horse was returned to its rightful owner. 
 
 A few wxeks after this the sutler's tent was one 
 night raided upon, and among other articles of value 
 which were stolen, were several boxes of tobacco. 
 Of course there was an uproar in the morning. The 
 tents were all searched by a detail of soldiers, includ- 
 ing the "forager's retreat," but no tobacco w-as 
 found. The sutler was very indignant and out- 
 spoken in his wrath and condemnation ; but as he 
 was something of a sharper himself, there was 
 not much sympathy for him among either officers 
 or men. 
 
 Several days later Captain Newton was passing 
 the "retreat" and noticed several large pieces of to- 
 bacco lying upon the table. He at once asked the 
 boys where the tobacco was secreted during the 
 search that had been made for it. It was some little 
 time before he could obtain a clue to the mystery ; 
 but it was soon revealed to him that they had sus- 
 pended the boxes in their small chimney until after 
 the search had been made. 
 
214 ^^^^^^ Newton^ 
 
 "But why did you take the tobacco?" said New- 
 ton ; "neither of you use it. Why take those things 
 which were of no use to you ?" 
 
 "Oh, you see," replied they, "lots of the boys have 
 no money to buy tobacco and the old sutler will not 
 trust them ; so we fellows have been doing a sort of 
 missionary work, and have given it away. Why, 
 we have tobacco'd almost every man in the regi- 
 ment and have several plugs left." 
 
 The captain could not find it in his heart to scold 
 much, especially as he remembered how often he 
 had labored with them and the little effect it had 
 had upon them. But he urged them to remember 
 one thing, that they were not supposed or expected 
 to do much more missionary work of that kind. 
 
 A bee-hive was stolen from a farm house and 
 was traced to the regiment. The colonel deter- 
 mined to make an example of the guilty parties so 
 that an end might be put to these depredations. He 
 ordered every man in the regiment to fall into line, 
 then a guard searched all the tents. They looked 
 everywhere but no hive, bees or honey could be 
 found. Captain Newton's tent was a large square 
 wall tent ; the bed which was in one corner being 
 two or three feet from the floor. A day or two after 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 215 
 
 the fruitless search had been made, Newton was 
 busily engaged in writing at his table, when to his 
 surprise he saw several bees flying around him. 
 For a time he thought nothing of it, but as their 
 number perceptibly increased and he recalled the 
 event that had occurred a few daj^s before, he de- 
 determined to investigate the matter. He looked in 
 every place where he thought any thing of the kind 
 could possibly be concealed, and at last, under his 
 bed. His search was rewarded by hearing a loud, 
 buzzing sound, and seeing a large, suspicious look- 
 insr box. In a moment he understood the whole 
 matter. His first impulse was one of indignation, 
 but the whole aflair was so ludicrous that he laughed 
 in spite of himself. A happy thought occurred to 
 him, and he immediately sent word to the leader of 
 the band which resided in the "forager's retreat" 
 that the captain desired to see him at his tent. In 
 a few moments that worthy reported at the specified 
 place. 
 
 "Ah, Joe," said the captain, "I am very glad to 
 see you. I have a small favor to ask of you." 
 
 "Will gladly do anything in my power, sir, to 
 assist you," said the other. 
 
2i6 Will Newton^ 
 
 "Thank you, Joe ; it is only a small job. There 
 is a large box under my bunk there that I want re- 
 moved. Will you please go under here and bring 
 it out.^' 
 
 For a moment Joe hesitated ; it was an awkward 
 position for him. He finally replied, "With pleas- 
 ure, sir." 
 
 Like a martyr, upon his hands and knees, Joe 
 went about his allotted task. The captain almost 
 exploding with laughter, retreated from the tent, 
 closed the door after him and watched the proceed- 
 ings through a small window. 
 
 Joe had seized the hive with nervous desperation 
 and began to drag it forth from its place of conceal- 
 ment ; but the bees already angry at the outrage in- 
 flicted upon them, lit upon him by dozens and scores. 
 Our hero fought them silently for a moment or two, 
 but it was very dark and Joe was upon his hands 
 and knees so that his little tormentors had the ad- 
 vantage of him. They crawled up his trowsers 
 legs and into his stockings ; they were upon his 
 hands and arms, in his hair, eyes, ears, and circu- 
 lating very lively along his face and down his neck. 
 
 "Whew ! gosh ! sixty ! blazes ! thunder ! Jupiter ! 
 Heavens and earth ! !" howled Joe, as he emerged 
 
> 
 
 r 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 217 
 
 from beneath the bed. Covered with his terrible Httle 
 foes he jumped and danced around the tent for a time, 
 but as matters gradually became worse, he opened 
 the tent door and dashed like a buck to his tent, 
 where he hoped to get rid of his foes. 
 
 The occupants of the "forager's retreat" were soon 
 summoned to appear before the captain where they 
 confessed the whole transaction. Having stolen the 
 hive they had concealed it under the captain's bed 
 by raising up the tent wall. They did not suppose 
 that the bees would leave the hive and they were 
 designing to remove it the very night after it was 
 discovered. 
 
 The captain sent them to the owner and gave him 
 his choice to return the hive or have the money paid 
 him for it. He preferred the latter. A good round 
 sum was paid him. 
 
 The foragers removed the hive and bees from the 
 cabtain's tent; the latter was generously remem- 
 bered when the honey was taken from the hive- 
 Poor Joe walked like an old man for several weeks. 
 
 Quite a number of recruits were sent to Captain 
 Newton's company during the winter that they were 
 encamped near Falmouth, and it required constant 
 vigilance on the part of Newton to prevent the 
 
21 8 lVi7l Newton^ 
 
 young rascals from playing practical jokes, and o* 
 a serious nature upon them. Such things were 
 indulged in by the old soldiers everywhere ; but Will 
 Newton had not forgotten his ow^n experience when 
 he first entered the service, and did all in his power 
 to protect the recruits. He was one night passing 
 a tent occupied by several men who had but recently 
 joined the company, and as he passed he saw that 
 the occupants were all out ; a moment later he saw 
 one of the bo3^s enter the tent. The captain watched 
 him closeh" and saw^ him carefully deposit quite a 
 large package of cartridges in the ashes under the 
 fire. The design was tor the powder to explode 
 about the time the owners of the tent should return. 
 
 As the one who had concealed the package was 
 about to leave the tent, Newton stepped up and 
 asked him to remain within in the tent until the 
 owners should return and tell them that the captain 
 vs^ould like to see them. 
 
 "I will stand outside and tell them, sir," replied 
 the other. 
 
 "Oh, no," said Newton, "that will not do ; it is 
 quite cold out here ; sit down on that stool beside 
 the fire and enjoy yourself until they return." 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 219 
 
 The fellow of course had to obey or confess as 
 to what he had just done, and that would not do. 
 So with a doleful countenance he took the designated 
 seat, but looked as if he expected some great calam- 
 ity to overtake him. The captain from a little dis- 
 tance watched the result. He waited but a moment 
 or two ; there was a loud explosion. The tent was 
 filled with smoke, and the patient watcher covered 
 with ashes, dirt and fire, came out of the door- way 
 head over heels, exclaiming, "Those recruits don't 
 know an}' better than to pack their cartridges in the 
 ashes !" 
 
 Among the recruits, was a big, corpulent German, 
 and the boys at once decided that he was a fit subject 
 for sport. He was fat and good natured ; slow to 
 learn, and so dull in comprehension that he could 
 never see the point of a joke until several days after 
 it had taken place. On the day after he joined the 
 company he came to the "forager's retreat" and 
 inquired as follows, "Vat dosch you fellies mean 
 mit de picket poscht dosch one fellie have to standeth 
 upon it." 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Joe, "we can soon teach you 
 how, you come with us." And Dutchey followed 
 his instructors. A sharpened post was driven into 
 
220 Will Newtofz, 
 
 the ground, the upper end was sharpened to a ponit. 
 
 "There sir, it is ready now ; try and get upon it." 
 
 They all assisted, but it was of little use for the 
 big fellow immediately tumbled to the ground. 
 
 The spectators laughed heartily, and the poor 
 fellow remarked, "I can never learn how !" 
 
 "You must not get discouraged too quick, my 
 good fellow," said the captain, who at this moment 
 most unexpectedly appeared upon the scene. -'Do 
 not get discouraged ; some of these old fellows will 
 show you how. Come Joe, said the captain, mount 
 the picket post and give him the benefit of your 
 example." 
 
 Joe demurred, but he looked at the captain's stern 
 face a moment and decided that it was best for him 
 to make the attempt. With, a sorry looking face, 
 and assisted by his comrades he managed to stand 
 upon the peaked point of the post about four feet 
 above the ground ; but it required his utmost skill to 
 maintain his balance. Over a hundred men had by 
 this time been attracted to the spot. 
 
 "Stand there five minutes," said the captain, 
 looking at his watch, "and then I will excuse you ; 
 unless you do you must try it over again." 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 221 
 
 With many flourishes of his arms and movements 
 of his head and body, which called forth great 
 merrirqent from the spectators, he managed to main- 
 tain his perch for the given time of five minutes. 
 
 15 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 In one of the many letters written that winter to 
 his old friends, the Lambs, at Maplewood, Will 
 Newton gave this amusing description of some inci- 
 dents in his army experience : 
 
 "To sleep by a small camp-fire out on the picket 
 line during a very cold night is an event more 
 memorable than interesting ; and to make it enjoy- 
 able is one of the most difficult feats in the soldier's 
 life. 
 
 Imagine the situation for yourself. — A cold windy 
 day in winter, where even in this region the ground 
 is frozen quite hard with frost ; a few leafless trees 
 flinging their bare arms sorrowfully against the rough 
 screaming wind. The picket reserve is about one- 
 fourth of a mile in rear of the picket line. It is 
 composed of perhaps fifty men, who are gathered 
 closely around a small fire. Your corresponden 
 has the honor of being the officer in command. 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 223 
 
 The day closes and the night comes on colder 
 and more windy than the day. The air is cold and 
 chilly ; the wind penetrating through our clothing 
 quite easily. We soon make our arrangements 
 to pass the night as comfortably as the circum- 
 stances will permit. One of our blankets is spread 
 out upon the damp, cold, frosty ground, and we lie 
 down upon that beside the fire, and draw another 
 blanket over us, and try to sleep. But we find many 
 embarrassing features existing, which the uninitiated 
 would not expect. I was just beginning to sleep 
 when I became somewhat suddenly aware of the 
 fact that my side which was nearest to the fire was 
 becoming too hot, while the opposite side was 
 nearly frozen ; which of course necessitated a change 
 of position ; but not many moments had passed after 
 such a change had been made before the fact was 
 apparent that the upper portion of my body in its 
 recumbent position was covered with sparks of fire, 
 while the lower was keenly feeling the snapping of 
 Jack Frost's teeth. Again I changed locations ; then 
 my feet were too hot and my head was too cold. 
 Thus we passed the night ; roasting, freezing, turn- 
 ing and scolding around our picket fire. But in the 
 midst of all these discomforts there was much good. 
 
224 Win Newt 071^ 
 
 nature and wit displayed, showing that the boys are 
 determined to make the best of every thing. 
 
 I had just fallen asleep last night, about midnight, 
 Avhen I was aroused by one of the boys who 
 growled as he was turning his cold side towards the 
 fire, •! wish we had a military fire.' 'What earthly 
 benefit would that be?' asked an unsuspecting com- 
 rade wiio was half asleep. "Oh then,' chuckled 
 the other, -we would form it in a hollow square 
 and sleep in the center.' -Bright boy,' grunted the 
 other, and a loud lauoh ran around the circle of 
 recumbent soldiers. 
 
 To-day I walked down the picket line for a inile 
 or more, and when I returned I was surprised to 
 see that two large posts had been driven down near 
 the fire at a distance from each other of about 
 twelve feet. A large beam had been securely 
 fastened on the upper ench of the posts, about ten 
 feet high. Of course I was interested, and asked 
 what it was for. 'Now Captain.' said one of the 
 most mischievious boys in the whole squad, "I want 
 vou to o^uess what it is for : and if vou can gfLiess 
 right within five minutes I will promise never to 
 forage any more while I am a member of your com- 
 pany.' A great inducement had thus been offered 
 
The Young Volunteer. 225 
 
 me, for the speaker was an inveterate forager and 
 had caused me more trouble in that respect than any 
 other man in the company. So to please the boys 
 I began to guess. I named every conceivable thing ; 
 but the answer was always, mo.' 'Four minutas have 
 passed, captain,' exclaimed the young rascal, who 
 held the key to the problem which I was endeavor- 
 ing to solve. Then I guessed more rapidly ; but 
 when the time w^as up I had failed to succeed. I 
 then of course demanded that he should tell me the 
 object for which the posts and beam had been placed 
 there. With the dignity of a judge, the boy sat 
 upon a log and began, — 'Captain, that is a great 
 thincr ; it is a wonderful invention. The Govern- 
 ment will be wdlling to pay me a large sum of money 
 for it, for I believe it will come into general use all 
 through the army.' And thus he ran on until I 
 interrupted again and demanded to know what the 
 invention was for. ^Well, captain,' he replied, 'I 
 was about to tell you. I shall have a dozen ropes 
 suspended from the pole, and instead of lying upon 
 the ground to freeze to-night, as you did last night, 
 I intend that each of you shall hang up before the 
 fire. I will keep awake to turn you round so that 
 you can keep warm all the time. My mother used 
 
236 Wi7l Newton^ 
 
 to roast her geese in that way, but I will promise 
 not to roast any of you fellows.' Then there was a 
 loud laugh ; and I will confess that I did feel some- 
 thing like a goose. 
 
 Soon after the above episode, one of the boys with 
 a very sober face remarked that he would like to 
 have the company discuss a question which was of 
 great importance to them all. 'What is it?' eagerly 
 asked half a dozen voices ; but having learned wis- 
 dom from my past experience, I remained quiet. 
 *My question is,' replied the first speaker, 'What are 
 wx to consider as the first step of the soldier?' That 
 was indeed a question of importance, and the dis- 
 cussion soon waxed warm. One asserted that the 
 first step was to learn to "obey orders ;' others gave 
 answers like the following: 'To keep clean.' — 'To 
 learn the manual of arms.' — 'To cook the rations in 
 good shape.' — "How to carry a knapsack.' — And 
 thus for an hoin* or more the discussion went on. 
 I was somewhat grateful to the boy who had pro- 
 posed the question, for I felt that the discussion 
 would benefit the men. 
 
 As they were thus reminding themselves of such 
 things as were essential in making good soldiers, I 
 rejoiced that at least one thing was being considered 
 
1 he Toung Volunteer. 227 
 
 by them that did not consist entirely of fun. The 
 question was at last referred to me, and I, with be- 
 coming gravity, informed them that in my opinion 
 many of them had given a correct answer as to what 
 constituted the first step of a soldier. But he who 
 had propounded the question stood by and shook 
 his head profoundly and said the question had not 
 yet been answered. 
 
 'Well, Mr. Philosopher,' I remarked, 'please in- 
 form the gentlemen present what constitutes the 
 first step of a soldier,' and to my chagrin, the an- 
 swer came plump and quick, — 
 
 'Twenty-eight inches, sir.' 
 
 For me to write that the whole squad looked mad 
 enoujjfh at their tormentor to demolish him, would 
 be stating the truth in a very mild manner indeed. 
 
 I have decided that it is no use for me to endeavor 
 to keep up with them in their fun for they are the 
 most incorrigable wags that I ever saw. One of 
 them went down a few days ago to the tent of a 
 German sutler, a sliort distance from our regiment, 
 and asked the old fellow if he had nails to sell. 
 
 'Yaw,' answered the proprietor. 
 
 'What kinds have you to sell.?' inquired the cus- 
 tomer. 
 
328 Will Newton^ 
 
 'All kinds,' was the answer, as the proprietor 
 walked up to serve his customer. 
 
 'So then you have all kinds of nails to sell?' per- 
 sisted the other. 
 
 'Yaw,' said the now provoked Dutchman. 'Vatch 
 you think me for, one phool }' 
 
 'Oh, no,' responded the hopeful youth; 'but as 
 you have all kinds of nails to sell, weigh me out 
 two pounds of finger nails, please.' 
 
 The soldier ran away just in time to escape from 
 a huge bologna sausage which the angry Dutchman 
 hurled at him. 
 
 I never knew them to find their match but once, 
 and that was but a few weeks aofo. In one of the 
 tents the chimney was built of sods, answering ev- 
 ery purpose very well, but not of a very substantial 
 character. Acoloredboy some sixteen years old came 
 to our company and the boys thought they would 
 have some fun with him. He was as black as he 
 could be, and especially prided himself in his ability 
 to butt a fearful blow with his head. The boys of 
 course were anxious for him to give an exhibition 
 of his prowess in that direction. This he was will- 
 ing to do, provided they would furnish some soft 
 object for him to strike so that his head would not 
 
'The Toung Volu?iteer. 229 
 
 be injured. This they were willing to do, and two 
 blankets were quickly rolled up into a huge bundle 
 to serve the purpose. This bundle was placed at 
 the open fire place on one side of their tent. The 
 young negro backed up to the other side of the room 
 about five yards away, took deliberate aim, and with 
 bowed head bounded with all his might for the tar- 
 get. The boys, in accordance with a previous ar- 
 rangement, pulled the target away and the negro's 
 woolly head went crashing against the back of the 
 chimney with such force that the whole structure 
 came tumblinor dow^n with a terrific crash. 
 
 The boys and the negro came out of the ruins 
 unharmed ; but as the former were looking with 
 doleful countenances upon the ruins of their chim- 
 ney, the negro evidently fearing that they would en- 
 deavor to hold him responsible for the disaster, 
 shook his head defiantly, and as he walked away, 
 muttered, 'Better take care ob de ole smoke stack 
 when dis niggah's gwine to butt !' and the only con- 
 solation left for the boys was to rebuild their chim- 
 ney." 
 
 On the afternoon of the day that Will Newton 
 wrote the above letter to his friends in Maplewood, 
 he noticed a large farm house with the usual num- 
 
230 Will Newton^ 
 
 ber of small buildings around it situated about a 
 third of a mile outside the picket line, and knowing- 
 that there were no rebels in that vicinity, he re- 
 solved to visit it, and detailed two of his men to go- 
 with him. As fortune would have it, they were 
 Tom and Joe of the famous "forager's retreat." 
 When they reached the house these two worthies 
 at once volunteered to wait outside while the captain 
 went in. The owner of the mansion received him 
 very graciously ; a pleasant hour was passed and 
 they returned to the picket line. That night at a 
 late hour, the entire picket force was aroused by a 
 terrible commotion outside the lines. Word was 
 passed along the line that some Confederate cavalry 
 were about to make an attack upon them. The men 
 "fell in" to resist the Confederates, but the noise 
 did not seem to draw any nearer to them. There 
 were cries of men and screams of women, barking 
 of dogs and cackling of hens ; several shots were 
 fired and all was pandemonium itself. As soon as- 
 Captain Newton was thoroughly aroused, he saw at 
 once that the noise was in the vicinity of the farm 
 house which he had on that day visited. The noise 
 soon subsided and once more quiet reigned supreme. 
 Newton instantly surmised that his attendants, wherfc 
 
The Toung Volunteei'. 231 
 
 he called at the house, had something to do with the 
 midnight disturbance. So on the following morn- 
 ing, at the first opportunity for doing so, he called 
 one of them to him and asked him about it. There 
 was only a moment's hesitation and then Joe gave 
 the following graphic account of the whole aflair : 
 
 "You see, sir, when w^e went out there with you 
 yesterday we were looking around to see if there were 
 any Confederates concealed around the buildings, and 
 to our great surprise we found as large a flock of 
 fine looking chickens as you ever saw, and we also 
 discovered the place wdiere they kept them nights. 
 It was right close beside the log house occupied by 
 the negroes. We thought that you would like to 
 have some chicken soup, and when our relief came 
 off at eleven o'clock last night, Tom and I walked 
 over to the house. It was very dark. We found 
 where the hens were but the door was fastened. We 
 made a noise I suppose, in breaking that open, and 
 the hens began to make a little disturbance. We 
 soon got inside the building and captured some five 
 or six of the hens all right, but Tom stumbled over 
 something and fell upon a low roost of hens which 
 we knew nothing about. Then such a noise ! The 
 hens and roosters all screamed and yelled as if each 
 
332 Will Newton^ 
 
 was anxious to make the most noise. We held our 
 breath and waited for the noise to subside. The ne- 
 groes heard the hens and evidently supposed that 
 some animal was killing the poultry ; at any rate, 
 out they came, a dozen or more men and women. 
 The hens made such a clatter that we did not hear 
 the negroes. I was standing inside with my back 
 towards the door of the little house when suddenly a 
 man stumbled upon me and the cold barrel of a gun 
 glanced by my ear. I thought of course that the 
 Johnnies were upon me, and forgetting every thing 
 else, being nearly dead with fright, I sprang straight 
 up in the air and yelled for all I was w^orth. That 
 of course frightened Tom, and he jumped and yelled 
 as loud as he could. By that time, the negroes who 
 were surprised to find any human being there, and 
 fearing they were about to be killed, began to yell 
 and pray and cry for mercy. They were jumping 
 up and down sw^inging their arms as they went. In 
 the confusion the door got closed and neither of us 
 could find it. There w^e were, men, women and 
 hens all together. The dogs began to bark and 
 howd and then ^\Q heard the report of a gun. At 
 last Tom found the door and we ran out to ascertain 
 who were firing the guns ; and had you been there, 
 
The 7'oiing Volunteer. 233, 
 
 captain, I know you would have laughed. The old 
 man and woman had been aroused by the racket. 
 They occupied a room on the second floor of the 
 house. Without stopping to change their clothes, 
 they had lighted a lamp. The old woman was 
 loading the guns and handing them to the old man 
 who was evidently determined to defend his castle 
 to the last. So he would step to the open window, 
 and without taking aim would fire directly into 
 the air, all the time calling in loud tones for those 
 who were making the attack upon his home, to fly 
 or he would kill them. In the midst of all this up- 
 roar Tom and I left. It was a very discouraging 
 afiair for us, captain." 
 
 "I am very glad," said the captain, "that you 
 failed in your undertaking. The excuse you have 
 m^ade for going there to get chicken soup for me is 
 a very poor one ; and when you had secured six 
 chickens, by your own report you were not satisfied. 
 How much soup did you think that I would need? 
 I am ashamed of you. Joe, and am very glad that 
 you was obliged to come back without a single 
 chicken." 
 
 "I did not say that," interrupted Joe, "we got 
 back with five or six of them ; but we would have 
 
234 ^^^^ Newton^ 
 
 made a glorious haul if those confounded neoroes 
 had not interrupted us." And the worthy Joe 
 departed. At noon however, a fine dish of the 
 spoils was sent up to the captain. 
 
 One day, Captain Newton, with several other 
 officers, were riding outside the Federal picket lines 
 not far from Ely's Ford upon the Rappahanock 
 river. It was at that time a part of the country 
 that had not felt the ravages of war as had other 
 sections farther up the river. There were large 
 plantations ; the fences remained undestroyed ; and 
 large herds of cattle which had not been molested 
 by the soldiers of either army. They were riding 
 past a field of about twenty acres which was en- 
 closed by a very high fence, when to their surprise, 
 they saw three Union soldiers dashing across the 
 field in pursuit of a huge fat buck. The men were 
 armed with small revolvers, and as the animal 
 managed to keep a good number of yards in advance 
 of his pursuers, he evidently was not receiving much 
 injury from the small battery brought to bear upon 
 him. As the pursued and pursuers passed the edge 
 of the field near where the officers were watching, 
 unobserved by the soldiers the result of the chase, 
 Captain Newton discovered that they belonged to 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 235 
 
 his command, and were none other than the three 
 famous foragers. Back and forth, to and fro, across 
 the enclosure the soldiers and sheep dashed. At 
 times it looked as if the former were about to seize 
 their prey ; and then the gallant old buck would 
 leave his enemies far behind him in his race for life. 
 The spectators enjoyed the scene very much, and 
 riiade many comments as to its probable results. 
 Fortune at last seemed to favor the gallant pursu- 
 ers ; for the old buck dashed into a narrow lane, the 
 only exit from which was the narrow entrance 
 through which he had entered. The soldiers with 
 a loud cheer dashed to that opening, being now 
 confident that the prize was their own. They con- 
 tinued their pursuit along the lane, which was only 
 about two yards in width, and as they proceeded, 
 they discussed what would be the easiest ^vay for 
 them to carry the meat to their regiment. In the 
 meantime, the buck had reached the end of the lane 
 and not finding any avenue of escape, turned around 
 and walked defiantly back facing his pursuers. The 
 boys saw him coming, and were highly elated. 
 
 *'He is coming back to surrender!" cried Joe. 
 
 "Yes," said another. "But it must be an uncon- 
 ditional surrender, old fellow." 
 
236 Will New ion ^ 
 
 In a few moments they were within a few yards 
 of old Billy. The latter stopped, planted his fore- 
 feet firmly upon the ground, held his head erect, 
 and looked pleasantly upon the approaching parties. 
 
 ''Poor old fellow," said one ; ''He deeply regrets 
 the great trouble lift has caused us ; we had better 
 not waste any more ammunition on him, but catch 
 him and lead him like a prisoner to camp ; it will be 
 much easier than to carry him after he is killed." 
 
 This was quickly agreed to by the three worthies, 
 who walked deliberately forward in Indian file to 
 seize the foe, who had so quietly surrendered. The 
 leader was within two yards of the buck when he 
 saw something threatening in his appearance. His 
 warning cry. -Look out, boys !" led to the sudden 
 drawing of the revolvers ; but that movement was a 
 moment to late to avert the threatened disaster. 
 The old buck had made a desperate charge upon his 
 assailants. 
 
 For a time things were decidedly mixed. There 
 was a rushing mass ! The sharp crack of revolvers. 
 Three soldiers and a sheep, all striving for the 
 uppermost position. There were shouts and 
 groans. 
 
The Young Volunteer 237 
 
 The result of it all was, a sheep bounding across 
 the field, and three crest-fallen, blood stained, dirt 
 covered soldiers limping, not in pursuit of the 
 escaped prisoner, but towards their camp near Fal- 
 mouth. 
 
 le 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 The pleasant associations enjoyed by the army of 
 the Potomac in their camp near Fahnouth were 
 interrupted during the months of March and April 
 by the stirring events which were transpiring around 
 them. General Hooker was determined to have his 
 army the best ever *' marshaled upon the continent." 
 So there were drills, reviews and parades ; and late 
 in the month of April they were prepared to cross 
 the Rappahanock river, and attack the Confederate 
 army. 
 
 The men had the greatest confidence in their 
 commander, and expected to march forward to 
 victory. Captain Newton's regiment was one of 
 those which crossed the river at Ellis Ford, and 
 formed a portion of the Federal line of battle upon 
 the extreme right, near the Chancellorsville house. 
 On that fatal May afternoon, when the corps of 
 General Hov^ard was so disastrously surprised and 
 defeated by General Jackson, Newton's regiment 
 was in an advanced position, directly in front of 
 
The Toung Volu7iteer, 239 
 
 the Chancellorsville house, in pursuit of what they 
 supposed to be the retreating Confederates. That 
 portion of the Federal skirmish Hne which he at 
 that time commanded, had reached the "Brock 
 road," and was pressing as rapidly through the dense 
 underbrush as they could, when the awful roar of 
 the battle, and retreat upon their right and rear, 
 informed them of the disaster which had turned the 
 tide of battle against the Federal forces. But as he 
 received no orders to fall back upon the main line 
 of battle, they continued to press onward, driving 
 the Confederate skirmishers before them. Before 
 the sun had passed from view the Confederates 
 began to drive them back ; and to add to the peril of 
 tlieir position, they were fired upon from the rear, 
 showing: that the Confederates were behind them as 
 well as in front. 
 
 Matters immediately became worse, and Will 
 Newton gave the order for "each man to look out for 
 himself." There was a running skirmish through 
 the pine forest. A portion of the Federals managed 
 to escape, but a larger number w^ere captured. 
 Captain Newton found himself surrounded by a 
 dozen gray soldiers who demanded him to sur- 
 render ; and seeing no possible chance for escape, he 
 
240 Wi'll Newton^ 
 
 obeyed with the best grace he could command. Two* 
 of his captors took him in charge and started for 
 the rear. They followed the Brock road to the 
 point where it intersects with the wilderness turn- 
 pike, and then followed the latter thoroughfare to- 
 the old Wilderness tavern, His captors were both 
 Virginians, and being very talkative, he gathered 
 much information from them. 
 
 "You'ens have got it this time," said one of them. 
 
 "What about the battle on our right?" asked 
 Newton. 
 
 "We'ens have gone in thar right smart, I reckon,'* 
 said the Confederate. 
 
 "What has been the result?" anxiously enquired 
 the Federal. « 
 
 "Old Jack has captured your whole right wing, 
 and before midnight, your whole army will either 
 be captured or driven back across the Rappahan- 
 ock," responded the exultant Confederate. 
 
 When the three men reached the old turnpike 
 which led directly from the battle field to the Wil- 
 derness tavern, it did look as if the Confederates'" 
 declaration was true ; for the Federals were coming 
 back as prisoners by thousands. Alany of them 
 were Germans, Avho looked so thorouHilv friMitenedi 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 241 
 
 that one would suppose they had lost their last 
 earthly friend. 
 
 *' How many men have you in the fight?" asked 
 Newton of his captors. 
 
 "Reckon we'ens are equal to about two hundred 
 thousand," said the other. 
 
 "Oh, no, that cannot be !" replied Newton. "How 
 do you reckon .?" 
 
 "Well, sir," responded the Confederate; "we 
 have fifty thousand men ; then ole massa Bob Lee 
 is equal to fifty thousand more, and ole 'Jack' is 
 good for a round hundred thousand, making us 
 equal to two hundred thousand men." And the 
 fellow^ grinned at his own wit and assurance. 
 
 Will Newton now found himself* in a novel situa- 
 tion. He was a prisoner of war ; and with some 
 two thousand other prisoners was guarded within a 
 large field near the old tavern. They ^vere six miles 
 from the battle field ; but the roar of the conflict 
 could be distinctly heard. Darkness came on, but 
 the battle raged with unabated vigor. Confederate 
 couriers were dashing back from the front reporting 
 great successes gained by their army and corres- 
 ponding disasters for the Federals. All this added 
 
242 Wi'll Nevjfon, 
 
 to the gloom resting upon the hearts of the prison- 
 ers. 
 
 Late in the evening, rumors came back to the 
 Wilderness tavern that some reverse had befallen 
 the Confederates. The Federal prisoners and Con- 
 federate guards each anxiously waited to learn what 
 the disaster was. At midnight it was stated that 
 Stonewall Jackson ,was seriously wounded, and 
 would soon be broiight back to that point in an 
 ambulance. This report was quickly confirmed by 
 the arri\'al of that wounded general. The Confed- 
 erates w^ere loud in their expressions of sorrow over 
 their great misfortune ; for they contended that the 
 death of Jackson would be the most serious loss 
 which their army could sustain. 
 
 It can be easily imagined how anxious Will 
 Newton was to escape from his imprisonment and 
 rejoin his regiment ; and during the early hours of 
 the night he was on the alert to improve the first 
 tavorable opportunity. But it was nearly daylight 
 before he ^aw^ any hope of succeeding. The Con- 
 federate guards were not only tired and sleepy, but 
 were very much oppressed with the misfortune 
 which had befallen their great leader, General Jack- 
 son. As tlie Federal prisoners were all lying upon 
 
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 mm 
 
The Young Volunteer. 245, 
 
 the ground, as they supposed asleep, the guards 
 relaxed their accustomed vigilance, and gathered in 
 groups of two or three along the line surrounding 
 the Federals and talked over the situation. Will 
 Newton made his way upon his hands and knees 
 near to where two of the sentinels stood talking, 
 and heard one of them sav : "We have licked the 
 blue bellies again." 
 
 "Yes," said the other, "but if old Jack dies we 
 are the losers." ^ 
 
 "That is so," replied the other. '"Old Jack is 
 worth more to us than the whole Yankee army, 
 even if we had captured it all." 
 
 While the two jjuards w^ere thus talkins" over the 
 state of affairs. Will Newton continued his course 
 upon his hands and knees and was soon out of sight 
 of the g^uards. He then arose to .his feet and ran 
 towards the woods as fast as he could go. When 
 he considered himself at a safe distance from his 
 guards he paused to decide upon what course to pur- 
 sue to rejoin the Federal army. His first thought 
 was to strike out in a course directly opposite from 
 the battle field and then make a wide circuit through 
 the forest, crossing one of the upper fords of the 
 Rappahanock and thus escape to his command. 
 
344 Will Newton^ 
 
 But he finally decided that the boldest plan would 
 
 be both the safest and the easiest. 
 
 The road leading from the Wilderness tavern to 
 the Confederate army upon the battle field at Chan- 
 ceilorsviile was filled with stragglers and wounded 
 men making their way back to the rear. All was 
 disorder and confusion, but as it was so dark, 
 the color of a uniform could not be distinguished. 
 Newton resolved to walk along that road, and if pos- 
 sible, thus make his escape. He accordingly en- 
 tered the turnpike and walked on very quickly 
 towards Chancellorsville. Throwing- off his officer's 
 coat and hat, bare headed and in his shirt sleeves, 
 he was enabled to walk with great rapidity, so that 
 when daylight dawned he was where the battle had 
 , began the previous day. He saw an old pair of 
 gray trowsers upon the ground and drew them on 
 over his own. He also found an old white hat, and 
 picking up a musket and equipments from the 
 ground he boldly marched for the front as a Con- 
 federate soldier. He met a small group of Confed- 
 erate officers. "Where are you going, my man.?" 
 demanded one of them. 
 
 "To the front to revenge Jackson," replied New- 
 ton, as he trudged onward. 
 
The Toung Volunteer . 245 
 
 He did not continue his way along the road but 
 directed his step towards the Confederate left. Soon 
 reaching their line of battle, which he found in a 
 very demoralized condition, and without attracting 
 any special notice from the men who supposed he 
 was simply in search of his regiment somewhere in 
 the line, he passed on to the skirmish line. Here he 
 quickly ascertained that he was in close proximity 
 to the Federals. The pickets were exchanging 
 shots with great rapidity, being separated by a dis- 
 tance of about a hundred yards. Will Newton dis- 
 played great zeal as a skirmisher for a short time, 
 loading and firing with rapidity, but taking good 
 care to aim so high that he would not injure any of 
 his comrades on the other skirmish line. He grad- 
 ually worked his way to the front in advance of the 
 Confederate skirmishers. 
 
 "Look out how you go out there !" said one ; "for 
 those Yankees are shooting mighty careless this 
 morning." 
 
 Newton, did not heed this timely caution, but con- 
 tinued to dodge from tree to tree until he thought 
 he had reached a place where it would be wise for 
 him to change his tactics ; so throwing down hi^ 
 
246 will Newton, 
 
 gun he ran like a deer for the Federal picl^ets shout- 
 ing as he ran, ''Don't shoot ! don't shoot !" 
 
 The Confederates sent a few shots after him, but 
 to his great joy, he safely reached his comrades and 
 quickly made himself known to them and narrated 
 ■his method of escape. The men gave him a hearty 
 welcome, furnishing him with a few hard-tack and 
 giving him all the facts which they knew about the 
 disastrous defeat of General Howard on the preced- 
 ing day, while he in turn informed them of the serious 
 wounding of the great Confederate General, Stone- 
 wall Jackson. This intelligence elated the Federals 
 as much as it had discouraged the Confederates. 
 Thev declared that thev did not care for the whole 
 rebel army if Jackson was only out of the way. 
 
 Captain Newton pursued his Journey through the 
 
 woods until he reached the Chancellorsville house, 
 
 where General Hooker had several days before es- 
 
 ' tablished his head-quarters. Here he saw a fecene 
 
 of confusion almost beyond description. 
 
 He made his ^vay through the crowds of stragglers 
 and wounded soldiers and soon learned that his regi- 
 ment was in the line of battle at Fair View% a few 
 • hundred yards in front of Hooker's head-quarters. 
 
The Young V^olunteer. 247 
 
 He immediately joined his company who welcomed 
 him with three cheers and a tiger. 
 
 Captain Newton was glad to find that his regi- 
 ment Ijad not sustained a great loss on the previous 
 day, were now in good fighting trim and waiting 
 for the rebels to make an attack upon them. 
 
 They had not long to wait, for the reckless Gen. 
 
 Stewart, who took command of Jackson's troops 
 
 that morning, immediately ordered them to charge 
 
 . upon the Federal lines and sweep every thing before 
 
 them. 
 
 It was on Sunday morning that this terrible charge 
 was made. The Federals had the advantage of su- 
 perior numbers and also of position. The Confed- 
 erates had the great advantage of superior general- 
 - ship and went to their work determined to win. 
 They were inspired by the victory of Saturday, and 
 • also with a desire to revenge the fall of General 
 Jackson. The greatest fury of the charge fell upon 
 the Federal line around Fair View. The line was 
 
 • formed on the crest of a little hill on the edge of the 
 ' woods and the whole brow of the hill frowned with 
 
 • batteries. The Confederates came through the 
 woods with the most reckless desperation. Twice 
 they charged upon the Federal line and were re- 
 
348 Will Newton^ 
 
 pulsed. The ground shook under the combined 
 roar of the artillery of both armies. Shells were 
 bursting every where. The Confederates charged 
 the third time. The Federal line was obliged to 
 recoil. Captain Newton's regiment was flanked 
 from its position and with a fearful loss was driven 
 backward. They rallied however, and made a stand 
 among the battery guns which they were to defend. 
 It was a deadly struggle. Confederate shells fired 
 from batteries beyond the woods fell upon them 
 killing blue and gray alike. The battery horses 
 were all killed. Dead and dying men lay beside 
 the guns where they had fallen. The Confederates 
 were determined to capture the artillery and the 
 Federals were resolved to save them. Will New- 
 ton and his company fought beside a section of a 
 brass battery. Six times in quick succession did the 
 fearless Confederates plant their torn flag upon the • 
 guns and as many times did Newton and his men 
 drive them back. The gunners fought with their 
 rammers, handspikes and every thing else w^hich 
 they could use. When the enemy was driven from 
 the guns for the last time, over half of Newton's 
 company was killed or wounded. Then came or- 
 ders to fall back in order to contract the lines. The 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 249 
 
 wounded men were assisted a short distance to the 
 rear. The dead were left upon the field. But how 
 could the ofuns be removed? The officers in com- 
 mand of them were all slain and there were no 
 horses to draw them away. 
 
 •'We can haul them oft' ourselves 1" shouted Cap- 
 tain Newton, as he sprang forward to assist in the 
 work. 
 
 But at that m.oment half a dozen Confederate shells 
 burst around them, and both gun-carriages were 
 disabled. 
 
 "What shall we do with them now V asked New- 
 ton . !; 
 
 A grizzly old gunner with a terrible wound in 
 his face, replied, "The rebels must not have these 
 guns, sir. Here is a deep well into which we could 
 dump them. I don't think they would get them 
 out in a hurry." 
 
 "All right !'' shouted Newton. "Boys, pitch them 
 down the well !" 
 
 There was but little time for them to perform the 
 task, for the rebels were already charging again in 
 their front and nearly surrounding them. The men 
 responded to the call of Newton with a cheer, and 
 the two great brass guns went plunging down forty 
 
250 Wz7l Newton. 
 
 feet to the bottom of the well. Then back across the 
 field they ran only in time to escape being captured . 
 by the victorious Confederates. 
 
 Before noon Chancellorsville was in the possession 
 of General Stewart. The Federals met with dis- 
 aster every where upon the field of Chancellorsville, 
 and notwithstanding the bravery of the Federal sol- 
 diers and the skill of many officers, the great army 
 of General Hooker retreated across the Rappahan- 
 ock river, leaving thousands of their dead and 
 wounded in the hands of an enemy whom they out- 
 numbered nearly three to one. 
 
 Through a drenching rain storm the soldiers 
 tramped through the mud w^ith an uncomplaining 
 fortitude and returned to their old winter quarters 
 around Fal month. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 During the latter half of the month of June, 1863, 
 the army of the Potomac followed the Rebel army 
 under General Lee across the Potomac river, through 
 the state of Maryland, and entered Pennsylvania. 
 Captain Newton at the head of his company, marched 
 all these weary miles. There were many excellent 
 men in his command of whom he was justly proud ; 
 and he had no fear but that when the enemy was 
 encountered upon the held of battle, his company 
 w^ould maintain its good reputation for bravery and 
 discipline. He was on the most intimate terms of 
 friendship with every man. and yet there were none 
 for whom he cherished the same feelings which he 
 had for Bill Logan and Dan Eliott. He had hoped 
 when they crossed the Potomac river and entered 
 Maryland, that an opportunity would be offered him 
 to visit their graves, and also look in upon his old 
 friends near Sharpsburg. But in marching through 
 Maryland, near Frederick City, they learned that all 
 the passes of the South ^Mountain range were 
 
252 Will Newton, 
 
 guarded by the Confederates, so that privilege was 
 denied to him. 
 
 It was evident to all, that when the Confederates 
 were encountered, there would be the greatest con- 
 flict of the war. Each day Captain Newton prayed 
 that his Heavenly Father would so govern and con- 
 trol the affairs of the Nation, that when the battle 
 was fought, it would be decided in favor of ihe 
 Federals, and inflict the death blow upon the Con- 
 federates. 
 
 It was while the army was thus marching through 
 Maryland, that General Hooker resigned his com- 
 mand and Genei'al Meade was promoted to fill the 
 position. Late on the night of July first. Will New- 
 ton reached Gettysburg. His regiment had made a 
 most weary march to reach that point, for a battle 
 had been raging nearly all day. Two army corps, 
 the first and eleventh, commanded respectively by 
 Generals Reynolds and Howard, had met the Con- 
 federate army, and after a desperate battle had been 
 driven back with "-reat loss. General Revnolds 
 himself, one of the most gallant and skillful officers 
 in the army, being among the slain. The victorious 
 Confederates were now in their immediate front, and 
 the battle would be renewed in the morninsf. The 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 253 
 
 exhausted men threw themselves upon the ground 
 to get a little rest and sleep. The stars twinkled 
 peacefully upon the scene. The stillness of night 
 w^as broken however, by the sharp crack of the 
 picket's rifle, and by the preparation which w^as 
 being made for the battle of the morrow. It is a 
 great mercy that soldiers can sleep under such cir- 
 cumstances, and that even their dreams are not dis- 
 turbed by the dark shadows of coming events. 
 Thousands of men slept that night on the fields of 
 Gettysburg who on the following night would sleep 
 the sleep of death. Yet their dreams were pleasant ; — 
 peace, the Union unbroken, home, friends and rest, 
 were the objects which, like beautiful paintings, 
 they gazed upon during those unconscious hours. 
 
 In the earlv dawn of Tulv second. Will Newton 
 and his comrades were aroused, that they might be 
 ready for any emero^ency which should arise. Their 
 regiment was not placed in the front line of battle, 
 but was held in reserve. During all the forenoon 
 no general engagement was brought on. There 
 was some skirmishing, each picket on either side 
 being ever on the alert to shoot his antagonist upon 
 the other picket line. So that the sharp crack of 
 
254 ^^'^^ Newton^ 
 
 rifles and the music of the minie-ball were constantly 
 
 heard. 
 
 It is always an interesting- study to watch a regi- 
 ment of old soldiers when they are waiting for 
 orders to move into battle. The experience gained 
 in past conflicts has taught them that war is no 
 child's play ; and that the glory of the battle field is 
 only desirable and enjoyable when seen upon paper. 
 There is not much talk made. A recruit here and 
 there expresses a desire to engage in this his first 
 battle ; but he is looked upon with unmingled pity 
 and contempt by his veteran comrades as he makes 
 such thoughtless remarks. Many of the bravest 
 men look pale and gloomy ; some are grimly 
 engaged in examining their guns and equipments, 
 that they may be in the most effective condition ; 
 others are occupied in conversation, speaking in low 
 tones, as if loud conversation would awaken the 
 elements of the battle. Some are carefully re-pack- 
 ing their baggage and looking u})on the small 
 articles of treasure which have been their compan- 
 ions for so long a time. A few were sleeping as 
 if to secure by it renewed vigor and strength. A 
 large proportion were busily engaged in writing 
 letters. Will Newton was included in the last 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 255 
 
 named class. He had just completed a long letter 
 to his friend at Maplewood. The epistle thus in- 
 dited was as follows : 
 
 Gettysburg, Penn. , July 2nd, 1S63. 
 My Dear Mr. Lamb :• 
 
 We are here upon the battle field waiting for the 
 great conflict to open. We have had a long, weary 
 march from where I wrote you last. When we came 
 through the State of Maryland I was very anxious to 
 visit the graves of my old comrades at Boonsboro ; 
 but the presence of the Confederates prevented it. 
 My men, like myself, are very much exhausted by - 
 the long forced march. The battle here began 
 yesterday when w^e were thirty miles away. As 
 you w^ill have learned by the papers, the Federal 
 troops were outnumbered and defeated with a heavy 
 loss. The one redeeming feature about it is this. 
 Our soldiers fought with great gallantry, inflicting 
 severe losses upon the enemy and holding them back 
 until re-inforcements arrived. General Reynolds, 
 commander of the first corps, was killed. VVe ex- 
 pect the battle to open every minute. It will be one 
 of the most important and desperate of the war. 
 Our line of battle is formed upon a long ridge of 
 land and is well protected by artillery. If the enemy 
 make an attack upon us in this position we shall 
 have a great advantage over them. Many lives will 
 be sacrificed for the country here to-day. My own 
 is quite liable to be included in that list. And feel- 
 ing this, I could not refrain from writing these lines 
 to you, my best and dearest living friend. I have 
 never regretted for a single moment that I enlisted ; 
 for the longer I remain here, the more thoroughh^ 
 am I convinced that the war must go on until 
 
356 Will Newton^ 
 
 slavery is abolished and the doctrine of State Rights 
 be destroyed ; and if it is my lot to fall, all is well. 
 My life will have been a success. In case this is- 
 my last letter, you understand my wishes in relation 
 to all my worldly affairs. In that event, if my grave 
 is marked, convey my remains to Maplewood and 
 place them beside father and mother. Give my 
 kindest regards to your family : assure them artd all 
 the friends in Maplewood that I have never for- 
 gotten them, or the many tokens of favor which they 
 have shown me. 
 
 Hoping that this will find you all well, I remain 
 as ever. 
 
 # 
 
 Your friend. 
 
 Will Newton. 
 
 The battle on the second day at Gettysburg was- 
 opened by General Lee, who threw forward his 
 right wing under command of General Longstreet. 
 This movement brought the corps commanded by 
 the last named officer in collision with the third 
 corps of the Federal army commanded by General 
 vSickles. These troops were posted upon the Em- 
 mettsburg turnpike in a singular and somewhat 
 unfortunate formation. The Confederates moved to- 
 the attack with great gallantry and vigor. Their 
 batteries gained a position from which they enfiladed 
 the line of General Sickles. The brave Union troops 
 fought like men who knew that the honor and 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 257 
 
 safety of their country depended upon their conduct 
 The battle as thus opened by Longstreet's two divis- 
 ions, commanded by Generals McLaws and Hood, 
 throwing themselves upon the veterans of the third 
 corps, was one of the wildest spectacles presented 
 during the war. Back and forth the two lines 
 rolled again and again, looking like moving wind- 
 rows of fire as they fought. But it soon became 
 apparent to General Meade that Sickles must be 
 re-inforced or his entire corps would be destroyed. 
 It was a most critical moment, not only in the 
 history of the battle, but also in the history of the 
 Nation and of Christian civilization. 
 
 But thanks to the tardiness of General Lee in 
 making the attack, re-inforcements were at hand. 
 Messengers pressed the spurs against the flanks of 
 their steeds and dashed here and there over the field, 
 and soon lines of men were in motion marching- to 
 re-inforce the shattered columns of Sickles. Among 
 these was the regiment of Will Newton. Down 
 over the northern slope of Cemetery ridge the}' 
 came upon the double-quick. They were led into 
 the battle at that famous point known as the peach 
 orchard, at the point of the fatal angle in the line of 
 General Sickles. It was an awful tide of death and 
 
258 Will Newton, 
 
 disaster which they were thus called upon to breast. 
 
 Shells were screaming through the air, bursting 
 in the g-round. and filling" the air with clouds of 
 earth and hundreds of deadly missiles ; solid shot 
 was bounding- like foot-balls through the ranks and 
 above the heads of the men ; the fatal minie-balls 
 were coming like hailstones from a storm cloud; 
 men dead and d3ing were scattered upon the ground ; 
 others with ghastly wounds were painfully walking 
 to the rear ; scores of battery horses were either 
 disabled or flying riderless across the fields. 
 
 Such was the fight into which Will Newton led 
 his men on that memorable afternoon. As the new 
 line formed with a cheer, the shattered fragments of 
 the old line gave way and went back in confusion. 
 The Confederates followed up their advantage with 
 much vigor and burst like a tornado upon the Fed- 
 eral line. They struck Newton's regiment like a 
 tidal-wave of death. Ilis company was in the cen- 
 ter, at the colors ; both wings of the regiment were 
 sw-ept away while the center was shattered by the 
 storm of iron missiles which burst upon it. Will 
 Newton called upon his men to stand firm. The 
 color-sergeant was shot down, and everv member of 
 the color guard was either killed or disabled. 
 
The Young Vohmteer. 259 
 
 Will Newton caught up the colors and gave them 
 to a sergea;it in his own company. By this time 
 the Confederates had advanced so near that it was- 
 simply a hand to hand conflict, with the great advan- 
 tage of superior numbers on the side of the Confed- 
 erates. Captain Newton stood in ftont of his men- 
 fig-htino: like a demon. He did not notice that his 
 supporters had nearly all been disabled or pressed 
 back ; that he was almost alone and surrounded by 
 his foes. A rifle ball went crashing through his 
 shoulder and lung-s. He fell. There w^as no Dan 
 Eliott or Bill Logan to defend him. The Confed- 
 erates rushed on, and Will Newton, wounded and 
 unconscious, was left within the enemy's lines. 
 
 As the afternoon waned the conflict increased in 
 its fury. The slaughter was almost unparalleled in 
 the histor}- of the civil war. Darkness alone caused 
 a cessation of the horrors, and the survivors sank 
 once more upon the ground to rest. Thousands of 
 brave men were lying wounded upon the field and 
 their groans were heart-rending. Others lay with 
 their cold faces turned upward their dumb lips 
 speaking in condemnation of violence and war. 
 Over two-thirds of Captain Newton's regiment was 
 reported killed or wounded that night, and among 
 
36o Will New Ion ^ 
 
 all the lost, there was not one who was more sadly 
 missed than was Will Newton. 
 
 The third day dawned over the wearied but un- 
 daunted hosts which for two days had fought on the 
 battle field of Gettysburg. Neither army was will- 
 ing to call it a d;-awn game. The battle opened on 
 the Federal right at an early hour and raged until 
 nine o'clock in the morning, an important advan- 
 tage being gained by the Federal soldiers. 
 
 All was quiet until three o'clock in the afternoon 
 when one hundred and fifty guns on either side 
 opened the most terrific cannonade that ever shook 
 the continent. For an hour this duel lasted. It 
 was appalling beyond all description. Then came 
 the grand charge of General Pickett's splendid di- 
 vision. This movement was the forlorn hope of 
 the Confederates, and it was without doubt the most 
 magnificent charge of the war. They reached the 
 Federal lines and were for a few moments victori- 
 ous ; but they were overpowered, flanked, nearly 
 surrounded and overwhelmed. Very many were 
 killed and wounded ; others were captured and only 
 a small remnant escaped to the Confederate line. 
 
 This was the last demonstration made upon that 
 historic field. Sadlv did General Lee reform his 
 
The Yozing Volunteer, 261 
 
 broken columns and prepare to escape by a rapid 
 retreat across the mountain and the Potomac river 
 to Virginia. The army of General Meade, sadly 
 smitten and decimated, could not make a vigorous 
 pursuit. Over fifty thousand men had been killed, 
 wounded or captured. 
 
 The rebellion had touched its high water mark 
 and from that hour its fortunes beofan to wane. The 
 North was encouraged by this great victory to make 
 large preparations to prosecute the war, which 
 thenceforth was to be carried on upon a more mag- 
 nificent scale than before. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 It was the fourth day of July, 1863. The tele- 
 graphic wires had flashed all over New England 
 the intelligence of the great victory won by the Fed- 
 eral army at Gettysburg. It was a season of min- 
 gled pleasure and grief; — joy, on account of victory 
 and safety for the Union, and grief for the wounded 
 and dead. The papers were filled with long lists 
 of names which were scanned with the greatest in- 
 terest by every one. Ever}^ town in New England 
 \vas thrilled with a new life. Maplewood was no 
 exception. That village had many gallant sons who 
 had fought on that field, and there was the greatest 
 anxiety on the part of relatives and friends to ascer- 
 tain what their fiite had been. 
 
 Among those who were waiting at the post-ofiice 
 for the arrival of the daily mail and the morning 
 papers, was our old friend, Jerry Lamb. His smil- 
 ing red face was this morning pale and anxious as 
 if some great care pressed upon his mind. The 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 263 
 
 long looked for papers arrived. Jerry Lamb se- 
 cured his mail, sprang into the buggy, and as his 
 horse walked towards home he anxiously looked 
 over the columns of casualties. 
 
 *'Oh, God, how horrible !" he groaned, as he saw 
 the long lists of the killed. x\fter some difficulty 
 he found the regiment for which he was so anxiously 
 looking, and almost the first name that caught his 
 eyew^as "Captain Newton wounded, probably mor- 
 tal, and captured." That was all, but it was enough. 
 The paper dropped from Jerry's hand ; the reins 
 lay loosely upon the horse's back. Great tears rolled 
 down the good man's cheeks ; sobs came surging 
 from his heart. He could only say, "It is too bad ! 
 too bad I too bad T 
 
 After a few moments he recovered himself. Again 
 he read that fatal line, "Will Newton, wounded, 
 probably mortal, and captured." He drew up the 
 reins firmly, the \vhip cracked upon the back of the 
 astonished horse who rushed frantically along the 
 road. 
 
 Jerry Lamb reached home. He dashed into the 
 house where his family were anxiously awaiting the 
 news. "Listen !" said he, in a tone of authority, 
 and once more read that sentence which had been 
 
% 
 
 -264 - IVi'll Neivtofi, 
 
 hastily constructed by some newspaper correspond- 
 ent on the field of battle. ''Will Xewton, wounded, 
 probably mortal, and captured." "You see," cried 
 Jerry, "it is not a settled fiict that Will is dead. All 
 hope is not lost. Here, Sam !" calling to the hired 
 
 man, "turn that horse and carry me to D . I 
 
 shall take the first train for Gettysburg." 
 
 "Why husband !" "Why father !" cried a quar- 
 tette of voices ; "are you insane.^" 
 
 "No ; but I shall be unless I can find poor Will 
 Newton, dead or alive. Good-bye all," — and with- 
 out waiting to change his wearing apparel he ran 
 to the carriage, waved a final adieu and was gone. 
 
 "Well, I never!" ejaculated Mrs. Lamb. 
 
 "I am so glad he has gone. Poor Will," sobbed 
 Miss Lamb. 
 
 "Gracious ! won't he have a bis: time lookinsfover 
 the battle field ; wish he had taken us both along 
 with him !" exclained the two young Lambs in a 
 chorus. 
 
 When the train reached Gettvsburgr at noon, on 
 the sixth day of July, a large number of gentlemen 
 and ladies alighted from it. Many were correspond- 
 ents ; others who came to look the field over to 
 gratify their curiosity ; some to assist in the general 
 
The Young Volunteer. 265 
 
 care of the wounded, while many, very many came 
 on the sad errand of looking for their friends, un- 
 certain as to their fate. Among the latter was Jerry 
 Lamb. He sprang from the train almost before.it 
 had ceased to move, and seeing an officer standing 
 near he ran up to him and said, ••Tell me, sir, 
 where the boss of the concern can be found. ^" 
 
 The officer smiled as he replied, ••If}oumean 
 the 'medical director,' you will find his office where 
 that flag is flying yonder." 
 
 Mr. Lamb remained to hear no more and soon 
 reached the building pointed out to him. He en- 
 tered. There were many officers present, but Jerry 
 Lamb knew nothing of their rank and cared less 
 about it. '"I want the man who has charge here I'* 
 he exclaimed, as he entered. 
 
 A tall, dark, stern featured officer stood near. "I 
 am the surgeon in charge, sir," he responded. 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 "I am a plain, practical man, sir," replied Jerry 
 Lamb; "bufi come looking for that man," point- 
 ing to the sentence in the newspaper which we have 
 quoted. "Tell me all you can about him." 
 
 "I know nothing about him," replied the officer ; 
 "If he is now living, he has probably been carried 
 
266 Will Newton^ 
 
 by the Confederates to Virginia ; but much more 
 likely he is dead and buried before this time." 
 
 "For whom is he looking?" questioned a pleasant 
 looking 2:)hysician who stood near. 
 
 "For Captain Will Newton of regiment," 
 
 quickly answered Mr. Lamb. 
 
 "I do not know where he is," said the other. 
 "But a member of his regiment is wounded in my 
 tent. If you will go with me we will see if he 
 knows anything about him." 
 
 They entered the great tent and stood beside a 
 sergeant who had lost one leg, and had also re- 
 ceived a desperate wound in his breast. "Ser- 
 geant," asked the surgeon, "Do you know Captain 
 Will Newton of your regiment?" 
 
 "Captain Will Newton !" responded the soldier, 
 "well, I should think so. Ain't I a sergeant in his 
 company, and didn't I fight by his side out in the 
 peach orchard there ? Captain Will Newton, I tell 
 you, gentlemen, is a white man. A perfect tiger in 
 a battle, and won't he be awfully missed from our 
 regiment?" And the poor fellow cried like a 
 child. 
 
 "What became of him?" asked Mr. Lamb. 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 267 
 
 "This gentleman," interrupted the surgeon, "is a 
 particular friend of Captain Newton, and is very 
 anxious to learn all he can about him ; but I fear 
 that if you talk it will inflame your wounds, and 
 you are too weak to run such a risk." 
 
 "What! are you a friend of Will Newton's?" 
 eagerly asked the sergeant, "Then you sit down 
 here beside my bed and I will tell you all about it. 
 Live or die, if you know mv captain I will talk 
 
 any way I" 
 
 Mr. Lamb seated himself beside the rude bed, 
 and the wounded sergeant began : "You see, old 
 fellow, how it was. Dan Sickles was out there on 
 the Emmettsburg pike with the old third corps, and 
 old Longstreet undertook to smash him. Sickles 
 was being pushed pretty hard when they poked us 
 fello^s's in to help him out of his scrape and save 
 the day. We got in the verv worst place in the 
 whole line, and just in time to be too late. The 
 rebels were wading in big, and our fellows vv^ere 
 trying to get out just as fast as they could. We went 
 in w^ith a yell and tried to stop the rebels ; but the 
 job was too big for us. Our company was in the 
 center of the regiment, in a moment both our flanks 
 w^ere shot to pieces and the center was badly shat- 
 
268 Will Newton^ 
 
 tered. It was an awful time. My captain, sir, 
 stood right out in front, bare-headed and with a 
 revolver in each hand he blazed away not ten feet 
 from the Confederates. I stood beside him until he 
 went down. He put his hand up to his shoulder 
 and breast and fell like dead. My leg went off at 
 the same time. The rebels ran over me, but drasr- 
 ged him back within their lines. I crawled towards 
 our lines and got about half the way back when I 
 got another wound, and then subsided until after the 
 battle was over. I think that without doubt the cap- 
 tain is dead. I know that he got a hard blow by 
 the way he went down." 
 
 Mr. Lamb was very grateful »to find a man who 
 had stood beside his friend in battle, and thanked 
 him for all his information ; then with that kindness 
 for which he was distinguished, asked, -'Have you 
 the means to purchase all the delicacies and things 
 vou will need here.^" 
 
 "I have no money, sir," replied the soldier ; but 
 the citizens kindly give me many things to eat so 
 that I am comfortable." 
 
 "I don't want any man who fought with my boy 
 to depend altogether upon charity," proudly re- 
 
l^he Totuig Vohtnteer. . i(y(^ 
 
 sponded Mr. Lamb. ''Here, my good fellow, take 
 this," and he put a fifty dollar note in the sergeant's 
 hands. 
 
 '^Well, well, if I ain't beat !" said the sergeant, 
 as Mr. Lamb passed from the tent. "Fifty dollars ! 
 Twenty-five of that will be all I shall need, and when 
 he calls again I will ask him if he is willing for me 
 to send the other twenty-five to wife and children." 
 
 Mr. Lamb walked across the fields to where the 
 Confederate line of battle had been formed. He 
 was sad and depressed. It looked as if his errand 
 was a fruitless one and that no indication of Will 
 Newton could be found. Being weary he hired a 
 team and rode slowly along the Chambersburg turn- 
 pike. 
 
 Before he was aware of it the sun had nearly 
 passed from view behind the South Mountain hills, 
 and he found that he had come a long distance from 
 Gettysburg. There was a little hut standing by the 
 roadside nearly concealed from view by the dense 
 foliagfe of surrounding: shade trees. Mr. Lamb 
 spoke to an aged negro who was standing in the 
 yard and inquired how fiir it w^as back to the village. 
 
 "Plump eight miles, I reckon, sah ;" was the an- 
 swer . 
 
 18 
 
270 JV/ll Newton^ 
 
 "Did the Confederates trouble you any on their 
 retreat?" asked Mr. Lamb. 
 
 "Oh, golly, sah ! not in de least. Spects dey 
 might ob done so, sah, but ole woman and me hid 
 in de bushes." 
 
 "Did you see any of the prisoners whom they 
 had taken pass this way?" 
 
 "Yes, sah; lots ob Massa Linkum's men went 
 back lookin' mighty sorry, too, dey was." 
 
 "Were any of the prisoners wounded?" 
 
 "Wounded? Lord a massa, sah ! guess you would 
 tink so hnd you been he-ah, sah ; sich groaning and 
 crying I neber he'rd in my life, sah ; and den dey 
 left dead ones scattered all along de road, and for a 
 whole day I worked to bur}^ de poor fellows." 
 
 "Did they leave any of the wounded who were 
 not dead?" asked Mr. Lamb, and to the surprise of 
 that gentleman, the old negro gave a somewhat 
 evasive answer. 
 
 "Why do you not give me a direct reply, sir?" 
 said Mr. Lamb. ' ^ 
 
 "Because, sah ; deseam perilous times. De people 
 who live up between he-ah and de mountains am 
 all Secessioners. De rebels mav be back he-ah in a 
 
The Young Volunteer, 271 
 
 day or two, and it am not sartln whose hands de ole 
 woman and I fall into." 
 
 "But what has all this to do with the question I 
 asked you about the rebels leaving wounded men 
 along: this road?" 
 
 *'Dat am de very secret, sah ; and if you swear 
 never to go back on de ole man I will tell you de 
 whole story." 
 
 "You can depend on me to keep your secret," re- 
 plied Mr. Lamb, now thoroughly interested. 
 
 "Sah, you see de rebels went back dis way wid 
 all their wounded. When dey died in de w^agon 
 dey would unload dem and drive on. It was about 
 daylight on de morning of de fourth of July, I was 
 peaking out through de trees thar to see what w^as 
 going on. A wagon stopt right he-ah. De driver 
 w^id a big oath said he wouldn't haul dem dead men 
 any longer and he took out from de wagon, sah, six 
 dead bodies. It made me groan to see how he 
 tumbled dem down like ole truck upon de ground. 
 Den he jumped upon the seat and drove on like de 
 wind. I watched mv chance, and when for a few 
 minutes dar Avas no teams passing, I went out here 
 whar de dead men were. I found dat five ob dem 
 were rebels, de other one was a Linkum sojer in de 
 
.272 Will Newton^ 
 
 bressed blue uniform. Widout stopping to think. 
 I'se took him up in these arms Hke a chile and toted 
 him in to de house, sah. I'se laid him on de floor, 
 when good gracious, I'se like to lose my breff*, cose 
 he groaned like as he wasn't dead. Den I run for 
 de ole woman and we tuk him up tender like and 
 put him on de bed out ob sight for fear de rebels 
 miofht come and find him. De old woman found 
 de kam-fire, bundles of }^arbs, and udder things 
 and has dosed him dav and nisfht. But he am as 
 cazv as a coot, we don't dare to sav nuffin, or 2:0 
 any ^vhar, tor fear de rebels and Sessioners will kill 
 us all." 
 
 The little hut was dark. The neo^ro led the wav 
 to a small room in one corner. Through the cracks- 
 there came a faint gleam of sunshine that but dimly 
 lighted the room. Upon a low, rude, coarse bed 
 in one corner was the form of a man. The dim 
 light fell upon a countenance, pale ; but at that 
 moment flushed bv fever. An old negfress was 
 bending over the bed bathing the man's temples and 
 singing in a low, weird tone. 
 
 •'Ole woman, I'se brought this gemman to see 
 de sojer/' 
 
The You7ig Volunteer. 273 
 
 The ole woman thus accosted, sprang to her feet, 
 as if to defend her patient if it was necessary ; but 
 Mr. Lamb did not notice her. He only saw the 
 form on the bed. He sank beside it, and while 
 tears of joy rolled down his cheeks, he sobbed, "Oh 
 Will, my bo}', my boy, don't you know me?" 
 
 The poor sufferer turned his head with a feeble 
 motion and muttered, "Who called — Dan Eliott? 
 Bill Logan?" and then he was silent. 
 
 Suddenly Mr. Lamb answered, and began to plan 
 w^ith his accustomed eners^v. He turned to the 
 astonished negroes and said, "You watch here ; take 
 good care of him ; I will go for a surgeon and be 
 back soon." 
 
 He rushed from the house, sprang into his car- 
 riage and applied the whip to the horse in a most 
 vigorous manner he almost flew over the road in 
 the direction of Gettysburg, and within thirty min- 
 utes from the time he left the hut of the negrroes 
 he drew up in front of the tent where he had met 
 the sergeant who belonged to Newton's company. 
 As he dashed into the tent, he cried, "Where is the 
 surgeon ?" 
 
 "Here I am, sir," said that officer, stepping for- 
 vv^ard, "What do you want?" 
 
274 Will Newton^ 
 
 "I have found my boy alive, and you must go 
 with me to save liis life." 
 
 "How^ far from here?" questioned the surgeon. 
 
 "Eight miles." 
 
 "I can be ready in five minutes; wait for me 
 here." 
 
 The disabled sergeant cried with joy when Mi\ 
 Lamb told him that Newton was found. As Mr. 
 Lamb vv^as waiting for the surgeon, the veteran told 
 him of sickness in his family at home ; of heavy 
 expenses and small income ; of penury and suffer- 
 ing, and asked if he was willing for him to send 
 them a portion of the fifty dollars. 
 
 "Not a cent of it," said the generous-hearted man. 
 "Keep it all for yourself; but send them this." 
 
 A hundred dollar note fell on the. soldier's face. 
 "I only wish I could give as much to the familj^ of 
 every soldier who fought at Gettysburg." 
 
 Tiie surgeon examined his patient carefully for a 
 few moments ; "a hard case," he whispered, "badly 
 shot, high fever, much exhaustion, chances all 
 against him. He must have the best of care. First 
 of ail, he must have different quarters and where 
 there is light and ventilation. There is no way in 
 which he can receive proper care here. Are there 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 275 
 
 any houses near here?" asked the surgeon of the 
 
 negroes. 
 
 "One right above he-ah, sah ; but he am an awful 
 Secessioner, sah." 
 
 "Look out for the man until we come back," 
 replied the surgeon ; and motioning for Mr. Lamb 
 to follow, he sprang into the carriage and they drove 
 rapidly to the house referred to by the negroes. The 
 surgeon knocked on the door with a loud rap and 
 the owner immediately came to the door. "I have 
 a w^ounded soldier just below here, sir," explained 
 the surgeon; "He is not strong enough to be re- 
 moved to Gettvsbursf. I want a bed and room in 
 your house for him." 
 
 "My house is not a government hospital, sir," 
 coldly replied the owner, as he was about to close 
 the door upon them ; but the surgeon was too quick 
 for him, and springing inside the door he greeted 
 the astonished proprietor as follows : "I am a sur- 
 geon in the United States service. I have full 
 authority and power to act in these matters. I must 
 have the best room in this house. If you keep still 
 and do all vou can to aid us it will be all rig-ht ; if 
 you cause us any more trouble 1 shall send you 
 
t 
 
 276 Wi7l Newton, 
 
 under guard to Washington as an active sympathizer 
 with the rebels." 
 
 From that moment the owner of the house caused 
 them no more trouble. In the parlor a nice easy 
 cot was arranged, and then the surgeon told the 
 owner of the house and his son to follow himself 
 and Mr. Lamb. They went to the negroes' hut. 
 and using the old blankets on which Will Newton 
 was lying as a stretcher, they bore him tenderly to 
 the place prepared for him. The aged colored 
 people held up their hands in mingled surprise and 
 fear as they saw the old Secessionist and his son 
 within their humble abode. 
 
 Ever}^ thing possible was done to alleviate the suf- 
 ferings of Will Newton. For three days and nights 
 both the surgeon and Mr. Lamb remained at his 
 bedside. He was delirious all the time. It nearly 
 broke Mr. Lamb's heart to hear him talk. On the ^ 
 third night the crisis was passed ; and just as the sun 
 was appearing in the east the patient awoke from 
 a lonof slumber. The suro^eon saw that he w^as 
 rational. He whispered to Mr. Lamb, ''Go out as 
 easily as you can ; he will live^ 
 
 Mr. Lamb obeyed, but he was completely over- 
 come by the intelligence, and weeping like a child 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 277 
 
 he walked clown the road and entered the negroes' 
 home. They saw, but misunderstood his sorrow. 
 The old man exclaimed, "De Lord be merciful I 
 Is de boy dead ?" 
 
 "Oh no," sobbed Mr. Lamb, "He is better, he 
 will live." 
 
 "De Lord be praised, sure !" ejaculated the old 
 lady. 
 
 "And it is all due to you my friends," continued 
 Mr. Lamb ; "and now I want to reward you for your 
 kindness." 
 
 "Not a cent, sah ; not a cent, sah ! we'se rich now 
 sah ! we'se rich ! de bressed Lord am w4th us, we'se 
 rich !" 
 
 "Do you own this place?'" asked Mr. Lamb look- 
 ing around the cabin. 
 
 "No, sah ; we'se must leabhe-ah dis fall, sah." 
 
 "Well, where will you go.^" asked the other. 
 * "Don't know, sah. Childer all dead; we'se no 
 money only what I earn ; but de Lord alius provides 
 for de old chileless man and woman. No fear, sah, 
 we'se rich !" 
 
 "But," continued the practical business man, "do 
 you not know of sonfe colored family where you 
 
278 Will Newton, 
 
 could have a home and board with them if you only 
 had the money to pay for your board each week ?'* 
 
 "Laws, honey, dar is my neice down in Gettys- 
 burg ; reckon she would be powerful glad to have 
 us under sich sarcumstances ; but her Jake am dead, 
 and she has four little pick-a-ninnies to look out for," 
 said the old lady. 
 
 "Well, now," replied Mr. Lamb, "you go and 
 see her ; find out what it ^vill cost a week to board 
 you both and come back and let me know." 
 
 The next day Mr. Lamb called again to see his 
 old colored friends. 
 
 "I'se been down thar, sah," exclaimed the 
 negress ; "Sally was powerful glad to see me. I'se 
 talked with her about de bo'ad, sah. She w^ould be 
 willin to bo'ad ole man and me if we could only pay 
 her ; but Sally is powerful poor, sah." 
 
 "What would she ask a week.-^" inquired Mr. 
 Lamb. 
 
 "Wall, sah ; she put on a big price, Sally did. 
 She would give the old man and me the spare room, 
 give us our tobaccy and tea on de Sundays, fo-ah 
 one dollar a week." 
 
 "Not a great price either," ^laughed Mr. Lamb, 
 "And now you pack your things and move right 
 
The Toung V^olunteer. 279 
 
 down to Sally's, and when I go to Gettysburg in a 
 day or two I will arrange with the town authorities 
 there to pay you two dollars a week as long as you 
 live. That will pay for your board and clothes." 
 
 *'De Lord be praised!" fervently interrupted the 
 old man. 
 
 As soon as the crisis in Will Newton's case was 
 passed, Mr. Lamb sent the following telegram to 
 his family : 
 
 "I have found him ;' he will live." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 Several days elapsed after Will Newton had passed 
 the critical point in his case before the surgeon 
 thought it advisable for Mr. Lamb to make himself 
 knov^^n, so he was never present in the sick room 
 when the patient was awake. It had been arranged 
 that the surgeon should w^atch beside him at such 
 times, and w^hen he was asleep, Mr. Lamb was a 
 constant attendant. One afternoon while his old 
 friend was thus occupied, being very weary with 
 long and anxious ^vatching, he fell asleep. When 
 he awoke he found that his patient was also awake, 
 and looking upon him in amazement w4th eyes wide 
 open. "Mr. Lamb !" faintly murmured Newton. 
 
 "My dear boy !" responded the other. 
 
 It would be useless for us to undertake to de- 
 scribe the scene that followed ; but from that day 
 Will Newton rapidly recovered. During the four 
 weeks that elapsed after the event narrated above, 
 and before Newton was able to be removed from 
 the house, there were so many questions for him to 
 to ask and so much information for his friend to 
 communicate, that the days passed away very pleas- 
 antly to both. 
 
The 7'oung Volunteer. 28^1 
 
 They had not forgotten their old friends and 
 benefactors, the colored people, and true to his 
 promise, Mr. Lamb made all the necessary arrange- 
 ments with a banker in Gettysburg to pay the aged 
 couple one hundred dollars a year as long as they 
 lived. On the day before they were to leave the 
 village Mr. Lamb and Will Xewton rode out to call 
 upon them. The manner in which they were re- 
 ceived and entertained was unique and ludicrous in 
 the extreme. The inmates of "Sallv's" house saw 
 them coming and all filed out to meet them. The 
 old man led the procession closely followed by his 
 companion whose head was crowned with a huge 
 bright red turban. Then came Sally and her chil- 
 dren, all as fat and as black as the pigs in her little 
 back yard. 
 
 '^Bress de Lord ! Bress de Lord I" fervently ejac- 
 ulated the old man, as his visitors alig4ited from 
 their carriage ; and the aged negress held up her 
 hands in amazement, exclaiming, "'Pears like de 
 honey come back from de dead! De good Lord 
 have mercy." 
 
 They all entered the little cottage. It was plain 
 but neat and comfortable, and it was evident to the 
 visitors that Sally was a model housekeeper. At 
 
283 Will Newt 071^ 
 
 Will Newton's request, Mr. Lamb carried a large, 
 mysterious looking bundle from the carriage into 
 the house. Will quickly opened it and began to 
 pull forth packages which he had purchased and 
 brought as presents to his old friends. Dry goods 
 and groceries, — almost enough to stock a small 
 store. 
 
 ''Here uncle and auntie," gleefully called New- 
 ton, "these things are all for you," and the old 
 couple laughed, wept, shouted and prayed all at the 
 same time. While Will was distributing his gifts 
 and explaining to them how they could draw their 
 money from the bank each week, Mr. Lamb was 
 interviewing Sally and informing her that if the old 
 people should be sick and in distress, she was to 
 notify the banker who would write Mr. Lamb, and 
 that the latter gentleman would supply all their 
 wants. Sally on her part assured him "dat de ole 
 folks should be well tended." 
 
 The parting scene was quite an affecting one, for 
 Newton deeply realized the great obligation which 
 he was under to the ignorant but kind-hearted ne- 
 groes who had providentially been so situated as to 
 save his life. He gave each of them a small sum of 
 money and Sally was also remembered quite gener- 
 
The Toung Volunteer. 283 
 
 oiisly in the same maimer, and amidst the tears, 
 prayers and thanks of the negroes, the two gentle- 
 men rode away. 
 
 The arrangements were all perfected and on the 
 early train Mr. Lamb and Newton were to leave 
 Gettysburg for home. 
 
 There was great excitement in Maplewood. Such 
 a day had never been known before in the history 
 of the town. All classes of citizens were interested. 
 Every home was in a state of commotion and every 
 individual w^as upon the streets. A stranger would 
 have supposed that some strange resurrection of life 
 and business had taken place during the night. The 
 occasion of it all was, that Mr. Lamb and Will 
 Newton were expected to arrive on the noon train, 
 and the people had come forth from their homes to 
 welcome back from the war their first volunteer. 
 The old ladies and gentlemen were all at the depot, 
 prominent among whom was the good old parson 
 and angular Deacon Keene. The middle-ao-ed men 
 and women had also left their work and were pres- 
 ent in full force to honor the great event by their 
 presence, while the boys and girls were determined 
 to out-do all others in giving character and interest 
 to the scene. A large arch had been erected in 
 
284 Wz'll Newton. 
 
 front of the little depot, and on it nestling amid flow- 
 ers and flags, was the one word ''welcome." Beau- 
 tiful bouquets had been prepared by the dozens,, 
 and as a leading feature of the whole aff'air, the two 
 Lamb boys, in imitation of their father's public 
 spirit, had induced the village postmaster to send 
 
 down to the city of D , the day before, and 
 
 have three soldiers come up with a small cannon to 
 fire a salute on the arrival of the train. The whole 
 crowd was on the very "tiptoe" of excitement. 
 
 "There it comes I there it comes !" cried a score 
 of small boys as the sound of a distant whistle was 
 heard. In a few moments, which to the waiting 
 crowd seemed a much longer time, the train rolled 
 into the depot. There was a moment of breathless- 
 suspense on the part of the assembled hundreds. 
 Soon the portly form and cheerful face of Mr. Lamb 
 appeared upon the platform of the car, and upon 
 his arm leaned a thin, pale, emaciated soldier. 
 Scores of beautiful bouquets were showered upon 
 him, while the cheers of the people and the thunder 
 of the cannon announced that Will Newton, the 
 Young Volunteer, had returned to Maplewood^ 
 
RARE BOOK 
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 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
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