THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 OF
 
 POEMS 
 
 WILLIAM RAINES LYTLE. 
 
 EDITED, WITH MEMOIR, 
 UY 
 
 WILLIAM H. VENABLE. 
 
 " The Poet could not sing the Heroic Warrior, unless he himself were 
 at least a Heroic Warrior too. I fancy there is in him the Politician, 
 the Thinker, Legislator, Philosopher; in one or the other degree he 
 could have been, he is all these." Thomas Carlyle. 
 
 CINCINNATI: 
 
 THE ROBEUT CLARKE COMPANY. 
 1894.
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1894, 
 BY THE ROBERT CLARKE COMPANY.
 
 PS 
 
 %:a 
 LI* 
 
 IS DEDICATKD TO THE 
 
 MEMORY OF A BELOVED SISTER, 
 
 MRS. ELIZABETH HAINES BROADWELL, 
 
 With the hope that in its accomplishment 
 her cherished wish has been fulfilled. 
 
 J. R. F. 
 
 759142
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 WM. HAINES LYTLE; MEMOIR, . . i 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra, .... 61 
 
 Popocatapetl, ........ 64 
 
 Brigand's Song, 67 
 
 Sailing on the Sea, 70 
 
 Anacreontic, 72 
 
 Jacqueline, -74 
 
 A Fragment, 76 
 
 Macdonald's Drummer, 77 
 
 The Volunteers, 81 
 
 A Midsummer-Day's Dream, . . . -84 
 
 Lines to Miss , 86 
 
 Lines in an Album, ........ 88 
 
 The Sweet May Moon, ... .89 
 
 In Camp, 90 
 
 'T is Not the Time, 91 
 
 When the Long Shadows, 93 
 
 The Merry Days of Eld, 95 
 
 Lines to Miss E , 98 
 
 The Haunted River, 99 
 
 Faded Flowers, 100 
 
 (v)
 
 VI CONTENTS. 
 
 Two Years Ago, 101 
 
 A Valentine, ....... 103 
 
 Love and Time, . . . . . . .104 
 
 Lines Suggested on the Death of Gen. T. L. Hamer, 105 
 
 A Serenade 107 
 
 Song of the Lightning, 108 
 
 Omens, in 
 
 My Thirty-sixth Birthday, 113 
 
 To My Sisters, 115 
 
 'T is Only Once We Love, . . . 117 
 
 The Siege of Chapultepec. . . . . .119 
 
 The Soldier's Dream, 121 
 
 The Farmer, 124 
 
 Hunting Song, 126 
 
 Song of the Ragged Attorney, . . . .128 
 The Farewell, 131 
 
 General Ly tie's Last Speech, . . .133 
 
 Company K. A Poem 144 
 
 Last Marching Order, 147 
 
 Last Marching Order to Brigade in fac-simile, 148-9 
 Extracts from Official Reports, . . . 150
 
 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 In the Appendix to his Geography and History 
 of the Western States, published in Cincinnati in 
 1828, Timothy Flint gives a personal narrative 
 from the pen of General Lytle, whom he describes 
 as "a distinguished and respectable citizen of the 
 State of Ohio, who has been in that country from 
 the beginning, and who probably has seen as much 
 of its progress as any other man in it." 
 
 The narrative, fresh and suggestive in style, re 
 plete with interest, relates how its writer, a lad 
 nine years old, came with his father, in 1779, from 
 Pennsylvania to the West, descending the Ohio, 
 in the spring of 1780, in one of sixty-three large 
 arks, or Kentucky boats, some of which were 
 occupied by families, others by young men in 
 tending to explore the country. " The number of 
 fighting men on board," says Lytle, "was nearly 
 a thousand." "My father," he continues, "had
 
 2 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 been a practiced soldier in the former wars of the 
 country, and had been stationed, as such, three 
 years at Pittsburgh. He was, of course, versed 
 in the modes, requisites and stratagems of Indian 
 warfare." 
 
 On the 1 2th of April the fleet halted at the 
 mouth of the Licking, and discovered an Indian 
 encampment on the Ohio shore opposite. A 
 considerable force crossed the river and the In 
 dians fled. The boy Lytle was among the sol 
 diers on this occasion. Fifty-one years later 
 General Lytle died in his own house which was 
 built near this scene of his youthful venture 
 against the Indians. 
 
 The two Lytles, father and son, both named 
 William, are distinguished from each other in our 
 early histories by their military titles, the elder 
 holding the rank of colonel, the younger that of 
 general. The family stock is of Irish origin. 
 Colonel William Lytle was commissioned captain 
 by Governor Morris, of Pennsylvania, in the year 
 1750, and he served in the old French and Indian 
 War. 
 
 General William Lytle, like his father, became 
 a famous Indian fighter and pioneer. At the age
 
 ROBERT TODD LYTLE. 6 
 
 of fifteen he was put in command of a war party 
 under the direction of the adventurous Daniel 
 Boone. In the war of 1812, he was major-gen 
 eral of Ohio militia, and in 1828, President An 
 drew Jackson appointed him surveyor-general of 
 the public lands of Ohio, Indiana, and Michigan. 
 He was founder of Lytletown, now Williamsburg, 
 Clermont county, Ohio, from which village he 
 removed to Cincinnati, where he died in 1831. 
 
 General Robert Todd Lytle, third son of Gen 
 eral William Lytle, was born in Williamsburg, in 
 1804. Coming to Cincinnati with his father's 
 family in 1810, he was educated in the old Cin 
 cinnati College, and then studied and practiced 
 law. After serving a term in the Ohio Legisla 
 ture, he was elected, in 1834, to a seat in the 
 National Congress. The next public office he 
 filled was that of surveyor-general, to which he 
 was appointed, as his father had been, by Jack 
 son. Once more he was chosen Representative 
 in the Ohio Legislature ; and, later, was commis 
 sioned major-general of the Ohio militia, a rank 
 held by his father before him, and after by his 
 illustrious son. 
 
 Robert T. Lytle was a person of fine presence,
 
 4 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 a courteous gentleman, an accomplished scholar. 
 His ability in conversation, and as an orator at 
 the bar and on the stump, was so marked as to 
 win him universal admiration. In the democratic 
 familiarity of political fellowship, his constituents 
 delighted to call him " Orator Bob," just as Cor- 
 win's followers showed affectionate loyalty by 
 huzzaing for " Old Tom." 
 
 On November 30, 1825, Robert Lytle married 
 Miss Elizabeth Haines, of New Jersey, a lady of 
 rare culture and beauty. Their children were 
 one son, William Haines Lytle, the subject of this 
 memoir, and two daughters, Josephine R. and 
 Elizabeth Haines Lytle. Robert T. Lytle died 
 in New Orleans, in 1839, aged only thirty-five, 
 and his wife survived him but two years. 
 
 On the east side of Lawrence street, midway 
 between Third and Fourth, Cincinnati, stands a 
 spacious old mansion surrounded by a broad 
 lawn and shaded by trees. This is the Lytle 
 residence, built by General William Lytle in 
 1810, and now occupied by his grand-daughter, 
 Mrs. Josephine R. Foster. It was the first brick 
 residence of its grade erected in the city. When 
 Andrew Jackson made his only visit to Cincin-
 
 THE LYTLE MANSION. 5 
 
 nati, he was General Lytle's guest, and held a 
 levee, or " Old Hickory " reception, in the south 
 parlor of this mansion. 
 
 Under its hopitable roof, the Lytle house has 
 welcomed many noted visitors statesmen, mili 
 tary officers, journalists, and foreign travelers. 
 Always have its doors been open to such as 
 sought or had won distinction in any department 
 of art, science, or literature. Among these were 
 Powers, the sculptor, Mitchel, the astronomer, 
 Read and Fosdick, the poets. The book-shelves, 
 cabinets, and walls are rich in family mementoes 
 of four or five generations autographs, official 
 commissions, portraits, silhouettes, souvenirs of 
 military interest and of patriotic devotion. 
 
 In this house, the home of his father and of his 
 grandfather, was born William Haines Lytle, on 
 November 2, 1826. Here, under the wise 
 guidance of his father and the gentle care of his 
 mother, he received the strong mental and moral 
 impulses which started his thoughts and feelings 
 in the right direction. Here, when his parents 
 died leaving him an orphan at the age of fifteen, 
 he was still the companion of his two sisters, for 
 whom he always cherished the warmest brotherly
 
 6 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 affection and most chivalrous regard. The mu 
 tual love and fidelity constantly manifested by 
 three so near and dear to one another, illustrate 
 how sacred and beautiful is the friendship of 
 kindred, the reciprocal devotion of brother and 
 sisters. Among W. H. Lytle's latest verses are 
 the lines : 
 
 " In vain for me the applause 01 men, 
 The laurel won by sword or pen, 
 But for the hope, so dear and sweet, 
 To lay my trophies at your feet." 
 
 These lines were written for the poet's sisters ; 
 and when he lay dead on the field of Chicka- 
 mauga, friends found in his pocket-book the last 
 letter they wrote to him, a letter filled with anxious 
 solicitude and affectionate assurances. 
 
 William H. Lytle inherited the martial spirit of 
 his ancestors, and the gift of eloquence. He 
 early manifested a natural tendency to express 
 himself in oratorical prose and romantic verse. 
 The poetical predilection he derived from his 
 mother, who was an accomplished writer in meter 
 and prose. The favorite themes on which he 
 exercised his boyish invention were patriotic.
 
 BOYHOOD AND YOUTH. 7 
 
 Stimulated to the pursuit of knowledge by all that 
 he saw and heard at home, he read and studied 
 and wrote, with that eager pleasure which, in an 
 ambitious youth, gives promise of rapid progress. 
 With steady fervor, he pored over books, not as a 
 task, but as a privilege. 
 
 The formal schooling he received was from the 
 professors of the old Cincinnati College, of which 
 his grandfather was a founder, and in which his 
 father was educated. Young Lytle gave his en 
 ergy to the study of language, English, Latin, 
 Greek, German and French. His diligence was 
 such that, before completing his sixteenth year, 
 he finished the prescribed course and graduated 
 with first honors, the youngest student in his class. 
 The ' ' oration " which he delivered on the occa 
 sion, February 3, 1843, was on "Law and the 
 Legal Profession." A local newspaper mentions 
 the speech as "the gem of the evening," and re 
 marks that ' ' Master Lytle is unquestionably an 
 uncommonly good speaker; the mantle of his 
 parent seems to have fallen upon him, graced by 
 additional gifts from the God of Eloquence, which 
 adds to it fresh luster and brilliance " a strain of 
 rhetorical praise which probably pleased the young
 
 8 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 orator. Doubtless the several students who spoke 
 graduation speeches that evening in College Hall 
 were conscious of some special demand on them 
 to meet the highest expectation of General Lewis 
 Cass, who chanced to be in town and was present 
 at the exercises. 
 
 The speech on law and lawyers was by no 
 means the maiden effort of its author. A packet 
 of closely-written, neatly-folded manuscripts, pre 
 pared for delivery before the Phi Delta Sigma 
 society of the college, and preserved by the poet's 
 sisters, contains a number of academic exercises 
 of merit far beyond that usually discovered in 
 lads of fourteen or fifteen. One of these compo 
 sitions is on "Love of Country," and another 
 treats of "Intellectual Freedom," or rather, of 
 the evil of mental servitude. In this last, the 
 hereditary ardor and local pride of the young 
 speaker are brought out in a vigorous appeal to 
 his fellow students to be worthy of their ancestors 
 and the place of their nativity. "And then," he 
 cries, "mightiest of motives there is your line 
 age ! descendants of the Western pioneers ! natives 
 of Western soil ! Can you be degenerate ?" In
 
 BOYHOOD AND YOUTH. 9 
 
 conclusion he quotes from William D. Gallagher 
 the lines beginning, 
 
 " Land of the West green forest land ! 
 Thine early day for deeds is famed, 
 Which in heroic page shall stand 
 Till bravery is no longer named." 
 
 While pursuing his studies at the old college, 
 and finding such inspiration as could come to a 
 a boy in a new city, which he called the "Athens 
 of the Backwoods," Lytle "caught the trick" of 
 verse, and often amused himself composing sim 
 ple ballads and songs. The earliest of his metri 
 cal pieces that escaped destruction was composed 
 when he was only fourteen years old, and is called 
 "The Soldier's Death." 
 
 Having finished the college course, Lytle 
 studied law under the guidance of his mother's 
 brother, E. S. Haines, in whose office he was 
 made ready for admission to the Cincinnati bar. 
 During the five years of preparation, in his 
 uncle's office, he found time to extend his gen 
 eral knowledge of science and literature, and 
 especially of French and German. 
 
 The Mexican war, which broke out in 1846,
 
 10 WILLIAM RAINES LYTLE. 
 
 had a romantic, adventurous, and spectacular 
 character, irresistibly attractive to young men of 
 cavalier instincts. The reports and rumors that 
 came from Taylor's army, of marches and battles 
 and bombardments, in the gulf-girt mountain 
 land of the ancient Montezumas, sounded like 
 some tale of mediaeval war, in which personal 
 deeds of daring and pursuits of love made 
 knight-errantry the glory of manhood. Hun 
 dreds of volunteers enlisted from all parts of the 
 Ohio valley, leaving book on shelf and plow in 
 furrow, to follow the flag in Mexico. No wonder 
 that the martial blood of the young and brave was 
 stirred by the recital of daring exploits and 
 perilous escapes, shared by heroes who charged 
 on the field of Palo Alto or helped storm Monte 
 rey. The very names, Mexico, Cerro Gordo, 
 Cherubusco, had a sonorous sound echoing of 
 old Spain. Captain George W. Cutter led the 
 Kenton Guards from Covington to the seat of 
 war, and, after the battle of Buena Vista, told in 
 verse how 
 
 "Amidst the sanguine dews 
 Lay the guards of Montezuma 
 And the knights of Vera Cruz."
 
 THE WAR IN MEXICO. 11 
 
 And another Kentucky poet, O'Hara, volun 
 teering at the outbreak of the war, marched away 
 beyond the Rio Grande, followed by those gal 
 lant soldiers whose valor and death he com 
 memorated afterward in the immortal quatrain : 
 
 "On fame's eternal camping ground 
 
 Their silent tents are spread, 
 And glory guards, with solemn round, 
 The bivouac of the dead." 
 
 Strange would it have been, had not William 
 H. Lytle heard the bugle blow and the drum 
 roll, even in his dreams, calling him to don the 
 sword of his fathers, if for no other reason, from 
 the impulse of military ardor and the love of 
 glory. Enlisting in the summer of 1847, though 
 yet in his minority, he was chosen first lieutenant 
 in Company L in the Second Regiment of In 
 fantry, Ohio Volunteers, Colonel Irwin of Lan 
 caster commanding. The regiment was received 
 into the service on the fifth of October, 1847, an d 
 disbanded on the twenty-fifth of July, 1848. On 
 the twenty-first of December, 1847, Lytle was 
 made captain of his company. 
 
 Lytle's campaigning in Mexico came too late
 
 12 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 in the war to afford much occasion for active 
 service, but it furnished valuable experience in 
 military training, and gave opportunity to see a 
 wonderful, tropical region, and to enjoy the 
 poetical and romantic emotions evoked by ad 
 ventures new and strange. The ten months' 
 sojourn in Mexico was rich in literary material, 
 part of which he worked up in letters mainly de 
 scriptive of scenery. Some of his best poems 
 were the fruit of his Mexican experience, for ex 
 ample, "The Volunteers" and " Popocatapetl. " 
 
 Every youth whom " Fate reserves for a bright 
 manhood," comes soon upon the day which bids 
 him lay hold of his life-work in earnest, quit the 
 dream and begin the deed. Lytle had in him a 
 steady fire of energy which kept him always 
 active. There was nothing eccentric about him, 
 nothing hesitating or despondent. Though of 
 the so-called "poetic temperament," he did not 
 affect peculiar sensibilities, indulge unruly pass 
 ions, or exact tribute of sentimental sympathy 
 from his friends. He was strong and self-reliant, 
 asking no one to live for him or to die for him. 
 Returning to Cincinnati, when the Mexican war 
 was ended, he entered into a law partnership with
 
 LAWYER AND POLITICIAN. 13 
 
 the firm of Haines, Todd & Lytle ; and at once 
 found business as an advocate in the courts of the 
 city. His general popularity among both Derrio- 
 crats and Whigs, and his known ability as a pub 
 lic speaker, led his friends of the Democratic 
 party to nominate him as candidate for state legis 
 lature, to which office he was elected in 1852. 
 He served two terms in the House of Representa 
 tives, and was for a time speaker of that body. 
 All the accounts which we have seen of his 
 political career agree in testifying that, though he 
 spoke seldom, his speaking was always to the 
 point, clear, forcible, and effective. 
 
 One of his addresses, delivered in 1853, at 
 tracted much attention. The speech was in 
 advocacy of a bill introduced by Durbin Ward, 
 of Warren county, to appropriate ten thousand 
 dollars for a statue of Washington by Hiram 
 Powers, to be placed in the State House. The 
 discourse was eloquent and persuasive, and it has 
 a special interest because it discusses matters of 
 taste and art, and pays deserved tribute to the 
 genius of an American sculptor. 
 
 In 1857, Mr. Lytle was the candidate of the 
 Democrats for lieutenant-governor, and canvassed
 
 14 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 the state, but was not elected. Governor Chase, 
 in the same year, bestowed upon him the com 
 mission of major-general, commanding the first 
 division of the Ohio militia. At that time no one 
 foresaw the imminence of the war-cloud which 
 was to burst in 1861. Though no acts of special 
 military or political significance are ascribed to 
 W. H. Lytle from the time of his appointment to 
 the command of the militia to the breaking out 
 of the Civil War, yet, perhaps, the verdict of pos 
 terity will be, that within that period he created, 
 in a happy hour, that which will perpetuate his 
 memory after his war laurels have faded. In 
 July, 1858 he wrote his best poem. 
 
 The story of General Lytle's splendid career 
 from the day when Fort Sumter yielded to the day 
 of his death on the field of Chickamauga a period 
 of less than two years and eight months covers 
 the events of three principal campaigns, each sig 
 nalized by a terrible battle. The time was indeed 
 short, but it seems long because the flying days 
 of it were laden with deeds of historic moment. 
 The time was short, but long enough to develop 
 many heroes ; but not one more illustrious than 
 William Haines Lytle, the poet-warrior.
 
 AWAY TO THE WARS AGAIN. 15 
 
 President Lincoln's first call for troops was is 
 sued on Sunday, April 15, 1861. Next day, the 
 governor of Ohio, William Dennison, telegraphed 
 to General Lytle, ordering him to establish a camp 
 at Cincinnati. Summoning his staff to meet at 
 the Burnet House, he kept them at work all night 
 recruiting a regiment. A local military company, 
 the Guthrie Grays, was made the nucleus of the 
 organization. So many volunteers desired to en 
 list that the doors of the rendezvous had to be 
 locked after the last company of the regiment 
 was filled with picked men. Hundreds of appli 
 cants were disappointed. On Tuesday the troops 
 marched to Camp Harrison, on the grounds of 
 the old trotting park, near Spring Grove. This 
 was the first properly organized camp of instruc 
 tion in the West. 
 
 The suddenly-formed camp at -once attracted 
 universal attention to its scenes of busy prepara 
 tion and high-wrought excitement. The chief 
 interest and admiration centered in the com 
 mander. Scarcely had the troops assembled be 
 fore throngs of citizens flocked to camp to proffer 
 words of cheer and gifts of price. Mass was 
 celebrated in the Irish companies of the Tenth
 
 16 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Regiment, and Archbishop Purcell made a stir 
 ring speech to the soldiers. On the same day, 
 May 1 5th, a sword was presented to Colonel 
 Lytle by T. J. Gallagher, from members of the 
 Cincinnati bar. Other friends made the colonel 
 an equally appropriate present, a handsome black 
 horse of noble breed, bearing the Irish name, 
 Faugh-a-Ballaugh, or " Clear the Way." 
 
 On the 4th of June, 1861, the governor of Ohio 
 issued a commission appointing Lytle colonel of 
 the Tenth Infantry, Ohio Volunteers, known as 
 the Montgomery Regiment, in honor of the 
 Montgomery Guards. The regiment presently 
 marched from Camp Harrison to Camp Denni- 
 son, on the Little Miami Railroad, sixteen miles 
 from Cincinnati. Before the departure of the 
 troops to Virginia, whither they were ordered, 
 a stand of regimental colors was presented to the 
 Tenth Regiment, an offering from patriotic women 
 of Cincinnati. The flags were presented by 
 Hon. Bellamy Storer, with an appropriate ad 
 dress. Coionel Lytle replied in these words : 
 
 "Sir: On behalf of the Tenth Regiment, I 
 tender to the ladies of Cincinnati, through you, 
 our heartfelt thanks for these beautiful flags.
 
 THE BLOODY TENTH. 17 
 
 "When these wars are over, we will bring 
 them back again to the Queen City of the West, 
 without spot or blemish. 
 
 " You see around you a thousand men who to 
 day say good-by to their sweethearts and their 
 friends. God bless the city, the state, the Union, 
 and the ladies. We make no promises, but when it 
 comes to the clash of steel, remember the Tenth. 
 
 ' ' Sir, tell the ladies that there is not a man in 
 these ranks who will not shed his heart's blood 
 like water beneath these colors. 
 
 ' ' We bid you good-by, and God bless you all. 
 'Faugh-a-Ballaugh.'" 
 
 The Montgomery regiment moved without de 
 lay to the assigned field of duty, in Western 
 Virginia, taking its place in the general army. 
 Numerous important services were required of 
 the regiment, though it engaged in no great bat 
 tle until September. Repeated testimonies came 
 from the war correspondents to the effect that 
 "Colonel Lytle and his officers deserved the 
 highest credit for their success in the long, heavy 
 march over the mountains;" that "the colonel 
 was wearing well and was fit for his onerous 
 tasks ;" and that his men were having a full share
 
 18 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 of "bush-whacking" and guerrilla warfare. On 
 one occasion of terrible excitement, almost panic, 
 Lytle rode in among the men, "addressed them 
 in happy but emphatic terms, and left them cheer 
 ing lustily all he said." 
 
 The battle of Carnifex Ferry, fought on Sep 
 tember 10, 1861, was the first in which the Tenth 
 Ohio was engaged, and the first scene of great 
 slaughter witnessed by Colonel Lytle. The crim 
 son baptism which the Montgomery regiment that 
 day received rechristened it The Bloody Tenth. 
 The new banner which mothers, sisters, wives, 
 and sweethearts had given to the boys in blue, 
 on the peaceful banks of the Miami, went down 
 in the conflict, but was not lost. Under its very 
 folds, the young Colonel who had received it, 
 and given pledge to protect it, fell wounded. His 
 sergeant, Michael Fitzgibbons, shot all but to 
 pieces, gasping in death, said : ' ' Never mind me ! 
 Where is the flag ? Where is it ? For God's 
 sake save the flag !" Another color-bearer, Dan 
 iel O' Conner, was shot down. Then Captain 
 Stephen McGroarty, held up the colors, was 
 struck by a rifle ball and fell wounded. All this 
 gallant work no playing soldier now took place
 
 THE BATTLE OF CARNIFEX FERRY. 19 
 
 immediately after Colonel Lytle fell-, from the 
 effect of a wound in the leg. A witness of the 
 action says : ' ' Lytle realized every idea of chiv 
 alry I had formed from romance or history." 
 The gallant colonel was mounted on the black 
 charger, Faugh-a-Ballaugh, when hit by the ball 
 which also wounded the steed. The rider came 
 to the ground, and, snatching a musket, began 
 to fire at the foe, but the horse, plunging, fell 
 dead within the enemy's works. A generous en 
 thusiasm of valor glowed in the hearts of Lytle's 
 men, and spread to other regiments. Colonel 
 Lowe, of the Twelfth Ohio, was heard to say, 
 the moment before a bullet killed him : "I want 
 to be where Lytle is. There is where the fight 
 ing will be. " Captain McGroarty, the color-bearer, 
 said: "Why, there are no men but would bat 
 tle to the death if led by Colonel Lytle." 
 
 Colonel Lytle, with other wounded officers, 
 was brought to Cincinnati, where, at the residence 
 of his brother-in-law, Samuel J. Broadwell, he 
 was cared for affectionately by his two sisters. 
 All Cincinnati was ablaze with enthusiasm. The 
 beautiful regimental flag, bearing the inscription, 
 " God and Our Union," which the ladies had
 
 20 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 presented to the " Bloody Tenth," in June, was 
 placed in a show-window of Shillito's store on 
 Fourth street. A newspaper item said: "The 
 staff is broken into several pieces, and in front of 
 the banner lies the oil-cloth cover, stained with 
 blood." People came in curiosity to look, but, 
 looking, could not see, for tears. The dread re 
 ality of war was but too sadly emblazoned in that 
 blood-stained silken symbol. The common emo 
 tion found expression in several pieces of verse, 
 among which was one by Mrs. S. H. Oliver, en 
 titled, "Banner of the Tenth Ohio." The last 
 two stanzas of her poem are here quoted : 
 
 " On the banks of Gauley river, 
 
 Many a son of Erin died; 
 Many a brave and loyal German 
 Fought Columbia's sons beside. 
 
 Honor to the Tenth Ohio, 
 
 Who the brunt of battle braved; 
 
 Henceforth let it be remembered, 
 Erin':, sons the banner saved." 
 
 Having recovered from his wound, Colonel 
 Lytle was placed in command of Camp Morton, 
 at Bardstown, Ky., a camp of rendezvous and
 
 A NEW COMMAND. 21 
 
 instruction, with an average presence of ten 
 thousand troops. He remained at this post from 
 late in January till the beginning of April, 1862, 
 and was then assigned to the command of the 
 Seventeenth Brigade of the Third Division of the 
 Army of the Cumberland, General O. M. Mitchel 
 commanding. A correspondent of the "Cincin 
 nati Enquirer," writing under date of March 27, 
 1862, gives a lively description of what happened 
 when Lytle presented himself for special orders 
 at Camp Van Buren, Murfreesboro : "While I 
 write," he says, " I hear a tremendous cheering, 
 and go out to learn what it means. I see the 
 guard turned out at present arms to some digni 
 tary, and hasten to see who it is. Imagine my 
 surprise, when I see Major Moore, of the Tenth 
 Ohio, ride up to a squadron of cavalry and shake 
 hands with a very modest-looking trooper, who, 
 on closer inspection, turned out to be Colonel 
 William H. Lytle. He was now on his way to 
 General Mitchel's quarters, where the Tenth met 
 him on their return from town. As soon as the 
 boys recognized him, a cheer went up that called 
 out the whole camp ; hats, caps, and guns went
 
 22 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 up in wild confusion, and the scene presented by 
 the enthusiastic Tenth beggars description." 
 
 On the 23d of August, 1862, orders were is 
 sued instructing Colonel Lytle to ' ' take command 
 of all the forces at Huntsville and hasten the 
 shipments of supplies " from that point to Louis 
 ville. The general commanding expressed in ad 
 vance his confidence in Colonel Lytle's judgment 
 and efficiency as an officer, " to perform the im 
 portant and probably hazardous duties " assigned 
 to him. Nor was this confidence misplaced. 
 The march was successfully accomplished within 
 seventeen days, without the loss of a soldier, an 
 animal or a wagon. On the last day the com 
 mand marched thirty-two miles, reaching Louis 
 ville on September 26th. Besides the troops, 
 which included the Tenth Ohio, Fifteenth Ken 
 tucky, two companies Alabama loyal troops, one 
 company Michigan engineers and mechanics, 
 Loomis', Ames', Ballard's, and Kennett's cavalry, 
 the Third Ohio, and Forty-second Iowa, and 
 Stone's Battery, the command was burdened with 
 a train of over a hundred wagons, a drove of 
 between five hundred and six hundred horses, and 
 also by a large number of refugees. The dust
 
 BATTLE OF PERRYVILLE. 23 
 
 and heat were intolerable, and the water was 
 scarce ; but, notwithstanding drawbacks, the march 
 was a " complete success." 
 
 The general movements of the armies of Buell 
 and Bragg in the series of military operations 
 culminating in the battle of Perry ville can be read 
 in any history of the Civil War. The special 
 part of the general action, with which our sketch 
 is concerned, was very clearly described in an 
 admirable paper on Colonel Lytle read before the 
 Loyal Legion by Dr. A. C. Kemper, in 1883, 
 from which we quote : 
 
 "Colonel Harris notified Colonel Lytle that his 
 left flank was exposed. Colonel Lytle saw that 
 his right flank also was attacked by overwhelming 
 numbers. Upon the one side, General Bragg 
 appeared in person on the field, and General 
 Polk, encouraging his troops , and on the other, 
 General Rosecrans, a host in himself. Colonel 
 Lytle begged for reinforcements. He was or 
 dered by General McCook to hold his ground. 
 Next day it was asked by some one if, under such 
 circumstances, he obeyed the order. The reply 
 was : ' Go ask Rousseau ! Go ask the Fifteenth
 
 24 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Kentucky ! And, if you dare, go ask the Tenth 
 Ohio if Lytle obeyed the order ! ' 
 
 "The most practicable thing to do was done. 
 Colonel Lytle dismounted, and led in person a 
 charge by the flank. A fragment of a shell struck 
 him on the left side of the head, behind the ear, 
 prostrating him and covering him with blood. 
 Sergeant Donohue lifted him in his arms, only to 
 be told : ' Leave me ; I 'm done for. Stand by 
 your colors !' He was left upon the field with his 
 dead orderly, Robb ; one of his aides, Lieutenant 
 St. John ; and two hundred and sixty-five out of 
 five hundred and twenty-eight of the Tenth 
 Ohio." 
 
 His wound, though frightful in appearance, did 
 not prove dangerous. He was taken prisoner, but 
 soon released on parole, and sent home. The 
 battle of Perryville was fought October 7, 1862; 
 Colonel Lytle returned to the home of his brother- 
 in-law, Dr. Foster, Cincinnati, on October i3th. 
 
 Lytle was ill-content to stay at home longer 
 than necessity required. Immediately he solicited 
 the Secretary of War to hasten orders for his 
 exchange. Secretary Stanton responded in a tele 
 gram, dated October 14, saying: "The adjutant-
 
 PRISONER OF WAR. 25 
 
 general is instructed negotiate your exchange as 
 speedily as possible. Allow me to express my 
 high estimation of your gallantry and hope for 
 your speedy recovery and restoration to your 
 command with appropriate rank." On the next 
 day, the following letter was dispatched from the 
 state capital : 
 
 HEADQUARTERS PAROLED PRISONERS, 
 " COLUMBUS, O, October 25, 1862. 
 
 "Colonel Yours of yesterday reporting your 
 self as a paroled prisoner is at hand. 
 
 " I will answer it myself, Colonel, that the oppor 
 tunity to tell you how sincerely sorry I am that 
 you are hurt and a prisoner may not slip me. I 
 wish, also, to congratulate you that you have won 
 fame so far. Courage and a clear head are God's 
 good gifts, and for our country's sake I am glad 
 you have so nobly manifested them as your prop 
 erties. 
 
 " No doubt you are in excellent quarters, sur 
 rounded by friends ; if so, remain there until you 
 are recovered, exchanged, and receive orders. 
 You are needed in the field, where I wish to
 
 26 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 heaven I could accompany you. Wishing you 
 well, Colonel, I am most truly your friend, 
 
 "LEWIS WALLACE, Maj.-Gtnl. 
 " To COLONEL W. H. LYTLE." 
 
 The complimentary dispatch from the Secretary 
 of War, and General Wallace's cordial letter of 
 soldierly congratulation, though grateful to Colo 
 nel Lytle's feelings, only increased his anxiety to 
 return to the field and resume his command. 
 After waiting impatiently two months for news 
 of his restoration to the service, he wrote to the 
 commissary of prisoners, inclosing a copy of Sec 
 retary Stanton's telegram. His letter ran as fol 
 lows: 
 
 "CINCINNATI, January 5, 1863. 
 "COLONEL WILLIAM HOFFMAN, U. S. A., 
 
 "Commissary General of Prisoners, Washing 
 ton, D. C.: 
 
 " Colonel At the battle of Perry ville, Ken 
 tucky, while engaged in rallying one of my regi 
 ments, momentarily thrown into some disorder by 
 an attack of the enemy in great force, I was dis 
 abled by a wound and taken prisoner. On the 
 day following, I was paroled at Harrodsburg.
 
 FROM PERRYVILLE TO CHICKAMAUGA. 27 
 
 On the night of my arrival in this city, I received 
 a telegram from Washington, of which the in 
 closed is a copy. Notwithstanding this order to 
 the adjutant-general, I have not yet, after the 
 lapse of more than two months, received any 
 notification of my exchange, and recently, at 
 Murfreesboro, to my intense regret, my old com 
 mand has been in action without me. May I 
 not ask, Colonel, your earliest attention to my 
 case, and that, if practicable, my exchange may 
 be effected without greater delay ? 
 
 "I will add, that my address is to Cincinnati, 
 under orders from Major-General Wallace, com 
 manding camp of paroled prisoners at Columbus, 
 dated October 25, 1862, to remain here until I 
 was recovered, exchanged, and receive orders. 
 
 ' ' I have the honor to be, Colonel, your obe 
 dient servant, 
 
 "WM. H. LYTLE, 
 
 "Colonel Tenth Ohio, lately commanding Seventeenth 
 Brigade, Rousseau's Division. 
 
 On November 29th, Colonel Lytle was pro 
 moted to the rank of brigadier-general, and early 
 in the following February he was assigned to the
 
 28 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 command of the First Brigade, in the Third Di 
 vision, Twentieth Army Corps of the Army of 
 the Cumberland. The corps was commanded by 
 Rosecrans, the division by Sheridan. Lytle's 
 brigade had been commanded by General Sill, a 
 distinguished Ohioan, who fell in the battle of 
 Murfreesboro. A sergeant-major in the brigade, 
 referring to Lytle's succession to Sill's command, 
 says : 
 
 "It speedily became apparent that the same 
 lofty courtesies and qualities of mind and heart 
 which had so endeared to us the one, shone out 
 with an equal luster in the character of the other. 
 The same calm breadth of justice, the same high 
 scorn of meanness and baseness, the same rare 
 culture, the same philosophic quiet and studious 
 earnestness to excel, the same genial warmth of 
 manner, the same affectionate tenderness for the 
 comfort of his subordinates, whether officers or 
 men, the same scrupulous care not to offend, the 
 same magnanimity toward foes, and the same 
 magnificent surrender of self toward friends, dis 
 tinct in individuals, yet alike in their grand re 
 semblances to the patterns and models of the 
 race it is enough for me to say that the beautiful
 
 FROM PERRYVILLE TO CHICKAMAUGA. 29 
 
 tribute which General Lytle, in his late speech at 
 Bridgeport, paid to the virtues and valor and wis 
 dom of Sill, is itself the best and truest eulogy 
 that can be pronounced over Lytle." 
 
 The speech alluded to was a notable one which 
 was delivered in accepting a jeweled Maltese cross 
 presented at Bridgeport, Alabama, by officers of 
 the Tenth Ohio. The magnificent ornament, of 
 gold set with emeralds and diamonds, with in 
 scriptions, and the Irish emblem, the shamrock, 
 engraved upon it, was presented near a spring 
 close by the general's quarters, on a Sunday even 
 ing, August 9, 1863, just seven weeks before the 
 day of his death at Chickamauga. Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Ward, of the Tenth Ohio, made the pre 
 sentation speech, and pinned the cross to the gen 
 eral's coat. In the course of his eloquent ad 
 dress in reply, General Lytle said : 
 
 "I will not deny, gentlemen, that, when, on re 
 porting to this department, I found you were to 
 be no longer in my command, I felt that sense of 
 loneliness and isolation natural to one whose old 
 army associations were broken up. My present 
 command will pardon me for saying this, I know, 
 for, in my judgment, no man who forgets his old
 
 30 WILLIAM RAINES LYTLE. 
 
 friends deserves to make new ones. But long 
 since I have felt perfectly at home, and I can not 
 let this occasion pass without expressing to the 
 officers and men of the First Brigade my heartfelt 
 thanks for the warm and generous welcome they 
 have awarded to a stranger. Gentlemen of the 
 Tenth Ohio, you see around you your brethren 
 in arms, the men of Sheridan's division; men 
 from the North-west, from the clans of the peo 
 ple, who pitch their tents on the prairies of Illi 
 nois and Michigan and Wisconsin, and by the 
 shores of the great lakes veterans of Pea Ridge, 
 Perryville, and Stone River. When the next 
 fight comes on, may they and the old Tenth 
 stand shoulder to shoulder, and see by whom, in 
 glorious emulation, our battle-flags into the ranks 
 of the enemy can be flung the farthest and fol 
 lowed the closest." 
 
 In this noble strain the orator went on, making 
 the most memorable speech of his life, a speech 
 which, in its simple fervid force and sincerity, is 
 not unworthy to be placed side by side with Lin 
 coln's, at Gettysburg. The closing paragraph of 
 the warrior poet's address is in the following 
 words :
 
 FROM PERRYVILLE TO CHICKAMAUGA. 31 
 
 "That the day of ultimate triumph for the 
 Union arms, sooner or later, will come, I do not 
 doubt, for I have faith in the courage, the wis 
 dom, and the justice of the people. It may not 
 be for all of us here to-day to listen to the chants 
 that greet the victor, nor to hear the bells ring 
 out the new nuptials of the States. But those 
 who do survive can tell, at least, to the people, 
 how their old comrades, whether in the skirmish 
 or the charge, before the rifle-pit or the redan, 
 died with their harness on, in the great war for the 
 Union and Liberty." 
 
 The effect of this eloquent address the last 
 public utterance, as it proved, of a brave patriot 
 was profound and thrilling. 
 
 The poet, Richard Realf, who was present 
 then sergeant-major in the Eighty-eighth Illinois 
 Volunteers was inspired by the speech to com 
 pose, on the field, the following sonnet, which 
 we copy from the original draft. 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 [Speech of Brigadier General Wm. H. Lytle, Bridgeport, Ala.l 
 
 " Vates! " I shouted, while your solemn words, 
 Rythmic with crowned passion lilted past,
 
 32 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 " That land which, clung with agony, affords 
 Great souls all coined in one grand battle-blast 
 Like this soul and this singing, shall not fail 
 So much as by a hair-breadth, of the large 
 Results of affluent wisdom, whereunto 
 Across the bloody gaps our swords must hew, 
 And far beyond the mountain and the marge, 
 We press with bruised limbs that yet shall scale 
 The topmost heights of being:" therefore thou 
 Lead on, that we may follow, for I think 
 The future hath not wherefrom we should shrink ; 
 Held by the steadfast shining of your brow." 
 
 The terrific battle of Chickamauga, so fraught 
 with disaster, so memorable for deeds of heroic 
 daring, raged for two days, September 19 and 20, 
 1863. It was in the forenoon of the second day, 
 Sunday, that General Lytle while directing the 
 movements of his brigade, on horseback, was 
 shot and killed by a ball which struck him in the 
 head. He was the only Union officer of high 
 rank who fell that day. 
 
 The manuscript journal of Captain Alfred Pir- 
 tle, aid-de-camp on General Lytle's staff, affords 
 an accurate and sympathetic description of the 
 general's personal aspect and conduct on the bat-
 
 CHICKAMAUGA. 33 
 
 tie-field just before the onslaught in which his 
 life was lost. The journal says : 
 
 "The Eighty-eighth Illinois, led by General 
 Lytle, charged the enemy and took position on 
 the top of a gentle slope. A few moments after, 
 the Thirty-sixth Illinois joins them, and then the 
 Twenty-fourth Wisconsin moves up to the sup 
 port of the Thirty-sixth Illinois. Our other regi 
 ment, the Twenty-first Michigan, is also soon en 
 gaged, and a section of the Eleventh Indiana 
 Battery pushed up the hill by hand. 
 
 "The general is sitting on his horse at this 
 time, facing south, his left side toward the en 
 emy, grasping in military style his reins in his 
 left hand; his sword drawn, the blade sloping 
 upward, rests upon the reins. He wears high 
 top boots, plain dark blue pants, overcoat with 
 out ornament or cape, buttoned to the throat, 
 with sword-belt outside the only mark of rank 
 being the gold cord of a general on a military 
 hat ; under his overcoat he wears a single-breasted 
 blouse with brigadier-general shoulder-straps. His 
 horse is caparisoned as becomes his rank. Upon 
 his face is an indiscribable expression caused by 
 what is called the ' battle-fire ' a spirit of en-
 
 34 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 thusiasm brought on by the tremendous excite 
 ment of the conflict, which irradiates every fea 
 ture, sparkles from his eyes, marks with sharp 
 outlines the curves of the nostrils, and seems 
 ready to leap forth in words from his parted lips. 
 I can almost see him now. 
 
 He leans toward me, and I bend to catch his 
 words, while he calmly says with a firm voice, 
 ' Pirtle, I am hit.' For an instant I can not 
 speak ; my heart almost ceases to beat, but I say, 
 'Are you hit hard, General?' 'In the spine; if 
 I have to leave the field, you stay here and see 
 that all goes right.' ' I will, General.' And then, 
 after a pause, I say, ' Good-by,' not knowing 
 whether he is going or not. 
 
 " The enemy's fire is heavier, indicating that 
 they are reinforced, while our men drop fast. A 
 moment or two after, in order to strengthen the 
 thin line, he sent me away to bring up a regi 
 ment that had fallen back below the brow of the 
 hill. While doing this, the line began to give 
 way, the general's horse galloped wildly down the 
 hill, and I felt that he had fallen from his wound. 
 My horse was wounded by an exploding shell, 
 escaping from me in his terror and pain, but I
 
 CHICKAMAUGA. 35 
 
 made an effort to get back to the spot where I 
 had left the general, till the tide of men retiring 
 in some confusion, forced me to turn from my di 
 rect path, and I could not approach the scene, as 
 our line was being driven back. I was told that 
 General Lytle was killed, and with a heart almost 
 bursting with emotion, I joined in the retreat. 
 
 "After the battle, I met one of our orderlies, a 
 soldier of the Twenty-fourth Wisconsin, who was 
 ever ready to do the utmost for the general, and 
 who said he reached General Lytle's side after he 
 had fallen from his horse, lying speechless, but he 
 handed him his sword and motioned him from the 
 field." 
 
 The desperate final dash, which Captain Pirtle 
 could not witness, was described by others who 
 saw the close of the dread drama. Lytle said to 
 his staff before the third and last onset which he 
 led that day, " All right, men! We can die but 
 once! This is our time and place. Let us 
 charge ! " 
 
 Captain E. B. Parsons, commander of Com 
 pany K, Twenty-fourth Wisconsin Volunteers, 
 whose private letters to his parents and others 
 written at Chattanooga, in October, 1863, have
 
 36 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 been consulted in the preparation of this memoir, 
 narrating the particulars of the fatal charge, says : 
 " From the moment I saw an aide from General 
 Sheridan ride to General Lytle with an order for 
 him to bring his brigade into action, he was con 
 stantly in my sight up to the moment he was shot. 
 A few moments before we were ordered in, he 
 rode down alone near where I was standing, and 
 as I saluted him, he wheeled his horse around 
 and, speaking to the men of my company, said : 
 ' Boys, if we whip them to-day, we will eat our 
 Christmas dinner at home.' Soon the bugles 
 rang out and we started, our regiment following 
 the battery, and as we left the road and formed 
 line of battle, General Lytle and his staff rode 
 right behind the center of our regiment, and he 
 remained there until he was shot. Almost the 
 last words he uttered were, ' Brave, brave, brave 
 boys ! ' As I was looking into his face, a ball 
 struck him, and seemed to me must have struck 
 him in the face or head, for the blood flowed from 
 his mouth. He did not fall from his horse, but 
 one of his staff officers eased him down on the 
 ground." 
 
 The young officer who received the dying gen-
 
 CAPTAIN GREENE'S ACCOUNT. 37 
 
 eral into his arms was Captain Howard Greene, 
 of the Twenty-fourth Wisconsin. In a letter to 
 Dr. N. Foster, dated November i, 1863, he gives 
 the following particulars : " We had been hotly 
 engaged with the enemy for nearly half an hour 
 before he was struck. At the time the general 
 and myself were on horseback, in the front line. 
 He had just turned to give an order, when he 
 was struck in the face. He was no sooner struck 
 than he reeled in his saddle and I saw at once 
 that he was seriously wounded, and that, unless 
 caught by some one, he would fall headlong to 
 the ground. I jumped from my horse, caught 
 him by the head and shoulders, and lifted him 
 carefully down. He recognized me as I caught 
 him, and tried to speak." . . . "I called 
 Passmore and Sillcox, two of the general's or 
 derlies, to me, and we then started with the body 
 to the rear. We had gone but a short distance 
 when we met Colonel J. F. Harrison coming up 
 with a regiment he had been rallying. As soon 
 as he saw us, he jumped from his horse and helped 
 us carry the general. A few steps further on, 
 Sillcox was killed. By this time the brigade had 
 broken, and was going past us to the rear. It
 
 38 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 was just at this time that Lytle opened his eyes 
 and tried to speak, but could not. I asked him 
 if he wished to lie down, and he nodded." . . . 
 "Soon after this the general breathed his last. 
 Colonel Harrison then left to rally his men, and 
 I was left alone with the body. I knelt down by 
 the general's side and satisfied myself that he was 
 indeed lifeless. By this time the rebels were 
 closing in from our left and were not a hundred 
 feet away, and, feeling satisfied that I could be 
 of no further use to the general, I also went to 
 the rear." 
 
 Within less than a month after this letter was 
 written, the brave Captain Greene was himself 
 killed (November 25th), in the charge at Mission 
 Ridge. 
 
 The gallant Colonel Wm. B. McCreery, of the 
 Twenty-first Michigan Infantry, was one of those 
 who helped to bear the general from the field, 
 and while so doing was himself wounded, taken 
 prisoner, and afterward confined in Libby. 
 
 General Lytle had been carried to a green 
 knoll under a tree, where his body was afterward 
 recognized by confederate officers. The respect 
 ful and even reverential care which it received at
 
 CHICKAMAUGA. 39 
 
 the hands of the enemy was owing largely to the 
 fact that the dead general was recognized not 
 only as a distinguished soldier, but also as a poet. 
 A confederate major, Douglas West, of General 
 Zack Deas' brigade, was requested by a federal 
 officer to protect the body of the dead general. 
 West relates that, on hearing the name Lytle, he 
 was thrilled, being " familiar with the poem which 
 made the name immortal." Major West took in 
 his keeping the general's sword-belt and scabbard, 
 pistol, portmonnaie, memorandum book, spurs, 
 and even his shoulder-straps. "That night," he 
 says, ' ' in our bivouac by the camp-fire, we read 
 the papers, letters, and scraps of poetry that we 
 found in the pocket-book." 
 
 The confederate officer, Colonel Wm. Miller 
 Owen, in his reminiscences of the civil war, relates 
 that, while riding over the battle-field of Chicka- 
 amauga, on September 20, 1863, he came upon 
 the body of General Lytle, which he recognized 
 as that of an old friend. He says : ' 'A confederate 
 soldier was standing guard over the body. Dis 
 mounting, I asked the man his instructions, and 
 he replied : ' I am here to take charge of this body, 
 and to allow no one to touch it.' 'All right,' I
 
 40 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 said : ' I hope you will do it.' Lytle was dressed 
 in fatigue uniform. His shoulder-straps, one star, 
 indicated his rank of a brigadier-general. He 
 wore high riding boots, a regulation overcoat, 
 dark kid-gloves. While standing beside the body, 
 General Preston rode up, and asked : ' Who have 
 you there ?' I replied : ' General Lytle, of Cin 
 cinnati.' 'Ah!' said General Preston, 'General 
 Lytle, the son of my old friend Bob Lytle ! I 
 am sorry it is so.' And he then dismounted, and 
 was much affected. After asking the sentinel his 
 instructions, and receiving the same answer I had 
 obtained, he said to him : ' See that you do it, 
 my man.' " 
 
 A beautiful instance of personal friendship be 
 tween enemies in war, was afforded by the con 
 duct of a confederate surgeon, E. W. Thomason, 
 who had been a fellow-soldier with Lytle in Mex 
 ico, and who, recognizing the body of his old 
 comrade on the field of Chickamauga, had it carried 
 to his tent, gave it decent burial, and marked the 
 grave. The wounds on the face of the dead 
 officer his southern friend covered first with green 
 leaves, then with a lace net and a fine cambric 
 handkerchief. Nor did a thoughtful sympathy
 
 FUNERAL OBSEQUIES. 41 
 
 forget a still more delicate care. The surgeon 
 clipped some locks of the slain soldier's hair, and 
 sent them to the sisters of Lytle in Cincinnati. 
 The articles found on his person were forwarded 
 also. In his pocket-book were found a printed 
 copy of a poem, of unknown authorship, entitled, 
 " Company K," and a letter from his sister, Mrs. 
 Broadwell. 
 
 The remains of General Lytle had been buried 
 twenty days when they were recovered by Col 
 onel Ward of the Tenth Ohio, who bore a flag 
 of truce to the confederate lines. An escort of 
 ten men from the Tenth Ohio, in charge of Lieu 
 tenant Donahue, conveyed the body to Louisville, 
 where it was met by his brother-in-law, Dr. Fos 
 ter, and placed on the mail-boat Nightingale. 
 The boat reached Cincinnati at twelve o'clock, 
 Wednesday, October 21. On their arrival, the 
 remains were received by a company of sixty 
 men from the Seventh Ohio militia, under com 
 mand of Captain R. W. Carroll, and were es 
 corted to the court-house and laid in state in the 
 rotunda. The black coffin, with massive silver 
 mountings, was placed on a dais in the center of 
 the room, and was strewn with white roses. Four
 
 42 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 sentries guarded the body. One of these, a pri 
 vate of the old Tenth, having been ordered to 
 keep still until relieved, stood at " order arms" 
 for two hours, without moving a muscle, no one 
 relieving him by some neglect. Being asked how 
 long he intended to remain on guard in that rigid 
 attitude, he said: "Forever, if not regularly re 
 lieved." Such was the soldier's idea of discipline 
 and fidelity. 
 
 During the afternoon a multitude of citizens, 
 men and women, poured into the rotunda to look 
 upon the casket that contained their hero's clay, 
 over which the tattered flag of the Tenth Ohio 
 drooped its mournful folds. Of those who paid 
 tributes of grief that day, no one was more sin 
 cere than the aged colored servant who had been 
 with General Lytle in his campaigns, and now 
 stood weeping at the foot of the coffin. 
 
 At sunset the body was taken from the court 
 house, and escorted to the residence of General 
 Lytle's brother-in-law, Mr. S. J. Broadwell. 
 
 The funeral obsequies of General Lytle were 
 conducted with much solemnity, on the afternoon 
 of Thursday, October 22, 1863. From an excel 
 lent editorial report, published in the Daily Com-
 
 FUNERAL OBSEQUIES. 43 
 
 mercial, the following account of the solemn cere 
 monies is condensed. 
 
 At one o'clock the doors of Christ Church, on 
 Fourth street, were opened to the ladies, many of 
 whom were already waiting. Many of the mothers 
 and wives and sisters of those who had gone out 
 with the brave Lytle to fight the battles of their 
 county, took this opportunity of showing that re 
 spect for the fallen hero which they would wish 
 to have shown to their own dear ones. To pre 
 vent crowding the church, no gentlemen were 
 admitted at first, save those mentioned in the 
 order of the day. The judges of the courts, 
 members of the bar, the city council, the clergy, 
 and others, entered and were seated in bodies by 
 themselves. All the room except that required 
 for the relatives and special friends was thus oc 
 cupied. 
 
 At two o'clock the dirge from the band in the 
 street announced the approach of the cortege. 
 The deep and solemn tones of the organ inside 
 the church responded to the music from without. 
 At the door the remains of the departed general 
 were met by Bishop Mcllvaine and Rev. Mr. 
 McCarty, pastor of the church, and as with
 
 44 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 measured steps they led the way to the aitar, the 
 congregation rose, and the bishop read from the 
 liturgy. Prayer and an anthem closed the ser 
 vices. The guard from the Tenth Ohio, who 
 had attended the body faithfully from the day 
 it left Chattanooga, then carried the coffin back 
 to the hearse ; the mourners and several delega 
 tions followed, and entered the carriages in wait 
 ing. 
 
 The streets were lined with spectators, and 
 Fourth street, from Broadway to Race, was com 
 pletely blocked. Along the line of march, many 
 beautiful flags were hung out, tied with crape, 
 and in all parts of the city they drooped at half 
 mast. 
 
 The military display was the largest ever seen 
 at any funeral obsequies in this city. Our four 
 militia regiments were out in force. After the 
 long lines of infantry in platoons, with arms re 
 versed, and marching to the solemn dirges played 
 by the bands, came a battery of artillery, two 
 guns abreast. 
 
 The hearse, surrounded by a cluster of distin 
 guished pall-bearers, followed the battery. It was 
 drawn by six milk-white horses, with black
 
 FUNERAL OBSEQUIES. 46 
 
 plumes, and was draped with emblems of mourn 
 ing. The coffin was partially covered with a 
 beautiful silk flag. Behind the hearse stepped 
 the charger of the departed hero, with the boots 
 of the fallen rider depending from either side of 
 the saddle. 
 
 Carriages containing his staff and relatives 
 came next, while near by walked the aged negro 
 servant of the general, who was once the waiting 
 man of Commodore Perry, now following the 
 dead body of his second hero-master to the grave. 
 
 Not far behind, the tattered banner of the 
 Tenth Ohio was borne by some of the sturdy 
 arms, which, under its folds, had struck heavily 
 at the rebellion on more than one field. It is 
 now a mere tatter of silk, grimed with expo 
 sure. It was closely furled and inclosed in fes 
 toons of crape, tied at intervals with black silk 
 ribbons. 
 
 An immense retinue of carriages, containing 
 the mayor and city officials, bar, numerous navy 
 and army officers, and many distinguished private 
 citizens, brought up the rear of the procession. 
 The police, handsomely uniformed, were in ad 
 vance. The procession occupied about half an
 
 46 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 hour in passing. It proceeded out Freeman 
 street to Hamilton road, where the escort drew 
 aside and permitted the hearse and carriages to 
 pass on to Spring Grove, where all that is mor 
 tal of the gifted and noble-hearted Lytle now 
 reposes, near the city of his birth and love. 
 
 A large number of distinguished officers, in 
 cluding, probably, all who could reach the city, 
 attended the funeral as mourners. Among the 
 number was General Stanley, commanding the 
 cavalry of the Army of the Cumberland. 
 
 The Lytle monument stands in a beautiful 
 cemetery in Cincinnati's suburbs. It is of the 
 Grecian order of architecture, twenty-four and a 
 half feet high, and is made of pure Carrara mar 
 ble. Upon the east and west sides are sculptured 
 suspended laurel wreaths. The east side has the 
 name of William Lytle ; the west, that of Robert T. 
 Lytle. The north side shows the symbolic scroll 
 and pen; underneath is inscribed the name of 
 General William H. Lytle. The south side is 
 adorned by a bas-relief representing the battle 
 field of Chickamauga. The general, seated on 
 his horse, and with drawn sword, is in the act of 
 leading the charging columns on that fatal day.
 
 CHARACTER OF LYTLE. 47 
 
 The bas-relief is surmounted by a cap adorned 
 with shield and cross-swords. Above all these 
 springs a thirteen fluted column, suggestively 
 broken off. On the top is an eagle holding a 
 garland of laurel leaves. It is a tasteful and ap 
 propriate tribute of affection from the general's 
 sisters to their family. 
 
 The quality of W. H. Lytle's personality was 
 shown in all he said and did. In him, the boy 
 was father to the man, and his days were " linked 
 each to each," with consistent achievements. 
 The reputation which the public gave him repre 
 sented truly his character. There were " no 
 tricks " in his " plain and honest faith." That he 
 was a man of energy, of integrity, of courage, of 
 generosity, every act of his life illustrates. The 
 martial impulse and habit controlled his destiny, 
 molded his thinking, and colored his language. 
 Nevertheless, he loved peace and the quiet em 
 ployments of the scholar. Though he did not 
 marry, his verses give ample testimony that he 
 loved and honored woman, and had strong do 
 mestic instincts as well as ardent passions. In 
 one of his gay madrigals written in the year be 
 fore his death, he sang :
 
 48 WILLIAM 'HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 " But when the birds of morning sing, 
 
 And all the wars are over, 
 Our lances at your feet we'll fling, 
 And then we'll play the lover." 
 
 The chivalric temper was shown throughout his 
 history ; he was the Bayard of a democratic land. 
 Masculine, vigorous, gallant, he had in him the 
 supreme virtue, manliness. Manly he was, and 
 also gentlemanly. General Banning relates that 
 when General Lytle was preparing himself for 
 his terrible last battle, he was observed to be in 
 full uniform, and while pulling on his gloves said 
 merrily, in reply to a question why he had taken 
 such care with his toilet, " I have tried to live like 
 a gentleman, and I propose to die like one." 
 
 General Lytle was a handsome man, of slight 
 and graceful build, but well developed, erect and 
 nervous. Like that of Wordsworth's Wanderer, 
 "his whole figure breathed intelligence." His 
 complexion was delicate, of a rosy softness al 
 most feminine, his eyes were gray, and his 
 brown hair lay in rich, silken masses over a high 
 forehead. The mouth was firm, indicative of 
 resolute character. Altogether the face was ex 
 pressive of intellect and sentiment an interesting
 
 LYTLE, THE POET. 49 
 
 face, capable of assuming the stern frown of 
 anger, and the sweetest smile of affection. 
 
 To summarize the hero's life and character in 
 a few lines, we borrow the words of the great 
 Ben Jonson, who, in his ode to the memory of 
 Sir H. Morison, exactly portrays William H. 
 Lytle. We have only to substitute one name for 
 the other. 
 
 "Alas ! but Morison fell young; 
 
 He never fell thou fall'st, my tongue, 
 He stood a soldier to the last right end, 
 A perfect patriot and a noble friend; 
 
 But most, a virtuous son, 
 
 All offices were done 
 By him so ample, full, and round, 
 In weight, in measure, number, sound, 
 As, though his age imperfect might appear, 
 His life was of humanity the sphere." 
 
 Within the period of thirty-seven years, meas 
 uring the short life of William H. Lytle, he 
 proved himself a good scholar, a successful law 
 yer, an influential politician and legislator, and a 
 military commander of great courage, skill and 
 popularity. He was also an orator of uncommon 
 ability. To his triumphs achieved at the bar, on
 
 50 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 the floor of the House of Representatives, and 
 in the army, must be added his accomplishments 
 in literature, especially poetry. Mr. Leslie J. 
 Perry, of Washington, D. C. , in a discriminating 
 article on the "Warrior-Poet," ventures to say 
 that "Notwithstanding his military fame already 
 earned, notwithstanding the high encomiums 
 passed upon him by his commander and brother 
 officers, I judge that William Haines Lytle is al 
 ready better, and will be longer, remembered as 
 the author of a little poem than as a soldier of 
 the republic." Time alone can verify or disprove 
 the correctness of this opinion ; but there seems 
 no reason for not prophesying that Lytle's sword 
 and pen will be remembered together, and that 
 each will add sacredness to the other. It is no 
 detraction from the meed of the most famous 
 martial chieftain to magnify his literary victories. 
 Renown in arms is doubly dignified in the hero 
 illustrious in letters. For, after all is said, there 
 is ineffable truth in the line of the Ohio poet who 
 sings, 
 
 " To be immortal thou must think a thought." 
 
 So fugitive is the fame even of the most emi 
 nent and worthy, that their memory is apt to fade
 
 LYTLE, THE POET. 51 
 
 fast as the flowers on the grave. Wars come and 
 pass, but the conflict of life, like a perpetual 
 Chickamauga, storms on around the generations, 
 and yesterday's idol is forgotten to-day. There 
 fore it is no small or common distinction to gain 
 by sword or pen, or both, such recognition among 
 men as insures, not immortality on earth, but even 
 fifty years of posthumous fame. More than thirty 
 years have now elapsed since General Lytle 
 passed away, and the interest in his poetry, far 
 from abating, is now keener than ever before. 
 
 There are poets of repute, of whose verse not 
 so much as a single stanza finds lodgment in the 
 popular memory; there are poems of unknown 
 authorship of such haunting charm that every 
 body knows them by heart ; and now and then 
 a rare soul, born gifted with the faculty divine, 
 leaves his name embalmed in some inspired lyric 
 which he makes. Such a favored being was 
 William Haines Lytle. For he produced in a 
 happy creative hour, one of those spontaneous 
 songs, 
 
 " Which always find us young, 
 And always keep us so." 
 
 The piece referred to is, of course, the "An-
 
 52 WILLIAM RAINES LYTLE. 
 
 tony and Cleopatra," a poem unrivaled in popu 
 larity by any thing yet written in the Ohio Valley, 
 excepting Kinney's beautiful lyric, " Rain on the 
 Roof." 
 
 Bryant's "Library of Poetry and Song" is 
 held responsible for having first put into circula 
 tion the absurd fiction that Lytle's famous poem 
 was written while the author lay mortally wounded 
 after the battle of Chickamauga. The true his 
 tory of the composition of the poem is this: 
 "Antony and Cleopatra" was written at the Lytle 
 homestead in the summer of 1858. The original 
 manuscript long in the possession of the poet's 
 sister, Mrs. Josephine R. Foster was dashed off in 
 a glow of creative excitement by the author, who 
 left it lying upon a writing table in his private 
 room. There it was found by Wm. W. Fosdick, 
 an intimate friend of Lytle, and himself a poet 
 of more than local celebrity. "Who wrote this, 
 Lytle?" inquired Fosdick, after reading the 
 poem. "Why, I did," answered Lytle; "How 
 do you like it ? " Fosdick expressed admiration 
 for the verses, and taking the liberty of a literary 
 comrade, he carried a copy of the manuscript
 
 LYTLE A POET. 53 
 
 away and gave it to the editor of the ' ' Cincinnati 
 Commercial," with the explanatory note : " EDS. 
 COM. The following lines from our gifted and 
 gallant townsman, General William H. Lytle, we 
 think, constitute one of the most masterly lyrics 
 which has ever adorned American poetry ; and 
 we predict a popularity and perpetuity for it unsur 
 passed by any Western production. W. W. F." 
 The poem appeared in the ' ' Commercial " on 
 July 29, 1858. 
 
 The poem "Antony and Cleopatra" is enjoyed 
 not only by the uncritical reader, "too simple to 
 admire," but by exacting judges in literary art. 
 For, though not a perfect piece of artistic work, 
 it is of masterly power, and sustained excellence 
 of style. The vigor never flags, the passionate 
 swell of its music mounts higher and higher to 
 the climax in the last line. No lapse into bathos, 
 no straining for rhetorical effect impairs the dig 
 nity of the verse which moves on with a rapid 
 and intense but sincere and solemn energy from 
 the beginning to the close. It is hard to decide 
 whether the dramatic or the lyric element pre 
 dominates, for, while the imperative song recalls
 
 54 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 action and the rush of war, subjective feeling sur 
 charges every stanza and, while remembering 
 Rome and glory, Antony dies triumphing in the 
 love of Egypt. 
 
 The strong and beautiful poem, "Antony and 
 Cleopatra," is the author's masterpiece, certainly, 
 but not by any means his only good poem. The 
 reader will find among the pieces, now for the 
 first time collected, several productions of such 
 merit as to demonstrate the injustice of ranking 
 Lytle among the " one-poem poets," though some 
 of these rank very high. The apostrophe to 
 ' ' Popocatapetl " is a fine poetical conception, 
 well wrought out and shows how carefully this 
 poet was capable of finishing his work, which, 
 it must be admitted, he too seldom took pains 
 to elaborate. " Macdon aid's Drummer" is a 
 brilliant descriptive ballad, full of pathos. The 
 " Brigand's Song," " Jaqueline," " Sailing on the 
 Sea," and "The Volunteers," picture in the 
 glowing colors of romance, the adventures of love 
 and war, and the objective delights and darings 
 of hot blooded youth. 
 
 The martial strain best suited the genius of
 
 CRITICAL ESTIMATE. 55 
 
 Lytle's muse. The "Antony and Cleopatra" is, 
 essentially, a song of war. The greater number 
 of the selections in the book treat of military and 
 patriotic subjects, and the war poems are un 
 doubtedly superior to the rest. All along the 
 pages are scattered epithets and phrases, exult 
 ing in "the big war," " the glittering guard," 
 "clanking spurs," "waving plumes," "free 
 man's sword," "bugle note," and "roll of 
 drums." 
 
 Next after the war songs, in number and in 
 merit, come madrigals of love, of which "Fare 
 well," " Sweet May Moon," " Valentine," and 
 " Two Years Ago," are good examples. The most 
 artistic of the poems of the amatory class is the 
 passionate "Anacreontic," especially the first two 
 stanzas, which, in warm imagery and melodious 
 singing quality, suggest the lost art of Marlowe and 
 Ben Jonson. But the sentiment and also the style 
 of Lytle's verse are not much influenced by the 
 Elizabethan literature. They belong more to the 
 romantic school of the first part of the nineteenth 
 century. 
 
 The influence of Byron, Moore, and Shelley is
 
 56 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 plainly discernible in the form, and to some ex 
 tent in the substance, of some of Ly tie's poetry- 
 In the "Haunted River," and one or two other 
 pieces, echoes seem to come from the sounding 
 gallery of Edgar A. Poe. 
 
 Critics will notice, in the poems here collected, 
 many hackneyed, sentimental expressions, faulty 
 metaphors, and defects in meter and rhyme. 
 But we must not forget that General Lytle had 
 little leisure for literary study and composition, 
 and made no claim to proficiency in the artistry 
 of poetics ; nor were the poems ever subjected to 
 the author's careful revision for publication. He 
 wrote for pleasure and from impulse, more ab 
 sorbed in the poetical contents of his work than 
 in precise, technical forms. Those pieces marked 
 by a date earlier than 1847, are to be judged as 
 juvenile productions. 
 
 One can not read the poems of W. H. Lytle 
 without being impressed by a serious tone of mo 
 rality and religion which pervades them. They 
 breathe, besides, pure patriotism, tender regard 
 for kindred, and loyalty to friends. The poet, in 
 his solitary hours, meditated deeply on human
 
 CRITICAL ESTIMATE. 57 
 
 life and destiny, and read deep lessons in nature 
 in trees and streams, in mountains and stars. 
 His moods were sometimes tinged with melan 
 choly, that infinite disappointment which comes 
 to those who vainly seek on earth to realize the 
 poet's visions and dreams.
 
 POEMS.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 
 
 I am dying, Egypt, dying ! 
 
 Ebbs the crimson life-tide fast, 
 And the dark Plutonian shadows 
 
 Gather on the evening blast; 
 Let thine arm, oh Queen, enfold me, 
 
 Hush thy sobs and bow thine ear, 
 Listen to the great heart secrets 
 
 Thou, and thou alone, must hear. 
 
 Though my scarred and veteran legions 
 
 Bear their eagles high no more, 
 And my wrecked and scattered galleys 
 
 Strew dark Actium's fatal shore ; 
 Though no glittering guards surround me, 
 
 Prompt to do their master's will, 
 I must perish like a Roman, 
 
 Die the great Triumvir still. 
 
 (61)
 
 62 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Let not Caesar's servile minions, 
 
 Mock the lion thus laid low ; 
 'T was no foeman's arm that felled him, 
 
 'T was his own that struck the blow 
 His who, pillowed on thy bosom, 
 
 Turned aside from glory's ray 
 His who, drunk with thy caresses, 
 
 Madly threw a world away. 
 
 Should the base plebeian rabble 
 
 Dare assail my name at Rome, 
 Where the noble spouse, Octavia, 
 
 Weeps within her widowed home, 
 Seek her; say the gods bear witness, 
 
 Altars, augurs, circling wings, 
 That her blood, with mine commingled. 
 
 Yet shall mount the thrones of kings. 
 
 And for thee, star-eyed Egyptian 
 
 Glorious sorceress of the Nile ! 
 Light the path to Stygian horrors 
 
 With the splendors of thy smile ; 
 Give the Caesar crowns and arches, 
 
 Let his brow the laurel twine, 
 I can scorn the senate's triumphs, 
 
 Triumphing in love like thine.
 
 ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA. 63 
 
 I am dying, Egypt, dying ; 
 
 Hark ! the insulting foeman's cry ; 
 They are coming ; quick, my falchion ! 
 
 Let me front them ere I die. 
 Ah, no more amid the battle 
 
 Shall my heart exulting swell; 
 Isis and Osiris guard thee, 
 
 Cleopatra, Rome, farewell ! 
 
 1858.
 
 64 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 POPOCATAPETL. 
 
 Pale peak, afar 
 
 Gilds thy white pinacle, a single star, 
 While sharply on the deep blue sky thy snows 
 In death-like calm repose. 
 
 The nightingale 
 
 Through "Mira Flores" bowers repeats her tale. 
 And every rose its perfumed censer swings 
 With vesper offerings. 
 
 But not for thee, 
 
 Diademed king, this love-born minstrelsy, 
 Nor yet the tropic gales that gently blow 
 Through these blest vales below. 
 
 Around thy form 
 
 Hover the mid-air fiends, the lightning warm, 
 Thunder, and by the driving hurricane, 
 In wrecks thy pines are lain. 
 
 Deep in thy heart 
 
 Burn on vast fires, struggling to rend apart 
 Their prison walls, and then in wrath be hurled 
 Blazing upon the world.
 
 POPOCATAPETL. 65 
 
 In vain conspire 
 
 Against thy majesty tempest and fire ; 
 The elemental wars of madness born, 
 
 Serene, thou laugh'st to scorn. 
 
 Calm art thou now 
 
 As when the Aztec, on thine awful brow, 
 Gazed on some eve like this from Chalco's shore, 
 Where lives his name no more. 
 
 And thou hast seen 
 
 Glitter in dark denies the ominous sheen 
 
 Of lances, and hast heard the battle-cry 
 
 Of Castile's chivalry. 
 
 And yet again 
 
 Hast seen strange banners steering o'er the main. 
 When from his eyrie soared to conquest forth 
 The Eagle of the North. 
 
 Yet, at thy feet, 
 
 While rolling on, the tides of empire beat, 
 Thou art, oh mountain, on thy world-piled throne, 
 Of all, unchanged alone.
 
 66 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Type of a power 
 
 Supreme, thy solemn silence at this hour 
 Speaks to the nations of the Almighty Word 
 Which at thy birth was stirred. 
 
 Prophet sublime ! 
 
 Wide on the morning's wings will float the chime 
 Of martial horns ; yet 'mid the din thy spell 
 Shall sway me still farewell !
 
 BRIGAND'S SONG. 67 
 
 BRIGAND'S SONG. 
 
 Through the" Sierra's wild ravines 
 
 An old grandee of Spain 
 Is passing with his dark-eyed girls 
 
 And all his gorgeous train ; 
 The spoil is rich, the guard is weak, 
 
 The way is rough and long, 
 So bathe your lips in foaming wine, 
 And chant your parting song. 
 Drink, brothers, drink, 
 
 Drink, men, and away ; 
 Adieu, senoras, in your smiles 
 We '11 bask before the day. 
 
 The moon is in the azure skies, 
 
 The stars are by her side, 
 They glitter in her path of light 
 
 Like maids around a bride ; 
 Like night-birds let us sally forth 
 
 Where booty may be won ; 
 So whet the poignard's polished edge, 
 
 And gird your carbines on.
 
 68 WILLIAM RAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Arm, brothers, arm, 
 Arm, men, and away ; 
 
 Adieu, senoras, in your smiles 
 We'll bask before the day. 
 
 All hail to-night ; for since the world 
 
 Was made in times of old, 
 The day has been for coward knaves, 
 
 The night time for the bold ; 
 Hark! to the mule-bells' distant chime, 
 
 Our lady, grant a boon, 
 That ere an hour the ring of steel 
 
 May drown their jingling tune. 
 Mount, brothers, mount, 
 
 Mount, men, and away ; 
 Adieu, senoras, in your smiles 
 
 We'll bask before the day. 
 
 To horse ! Hurra with thundering press 
 
 Over the plain we glide, 
 Around the startled hamlet's edge 
 
 And up the mountain side ; 
 With waving plumes and clanking spurs, 
 
 We sweep along like wind;
 
 BRIGAND'S SONG. 69 
 
 Our beacon on the rugged cliff 
 Is flaming far behind. 
 Ride, brothers, ride, 
 
 Ride, men, and away ; 
 Adieu, senoras, in your smiles 
 We '11 bask before the day.
 
 70 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 SAILING ON THE SEA. 
 
 " Where is my heart's dearest, 
 
 Where can he be ? " 
 " In his tall ship, Marguerite, 
 
 Sailing on the sea; 
 Sailing with a gallant crew, 
 
 Winds a-blowing free " 
 " Ah ! he vowed he soon would come 
 
 Home to wed with me ! " 
 
 "Should he never, Marguerite, 
 
 Come back to thee, 
 Thou canst find another love 
 
 I thy love will be ; 
 Then far away to Indian isles 
 
 Let us quickly flee, 
 Pine no more for truant hearts 
 
 Sailing on the sea." 
 
 Flashed her eye in anger, 
 
 Proudly turned she 
 From the muffled cavalier 
 
 Bending on his knee ;
 
 SAILING ON THE SEA. 71 
 
 But away his cloak he flung, 
 
 "Marguerite! " cried he 
 'T was her lover ! whom she thought 
 
 Sailing on the sea.
 
 72 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 ANACREONTIC. 
 
 Nay, frown not fairest, chide no more, 
 
 Nor blame the blushing wine ; 
 Its fiery kiss is innocent, 
 
 When thrills the pulse with thine. 
 So leave the goblet in my hand, 
 
 But vail thy glances bright, 
 Lest wine and beauty mingling 
 
 Should wreck my soul to-night. 
 
 Then, Ida, to the ancient rim 
 
 In sculptured beauty rare, 
 Bow down thy red-arched lip and quaff 
 
 The wine that conquers care ; 
 Or breathe upon the shining cup 
 
 Till that its perfume be 
 Sweet as the scent of orange groves, 
 
 Upon some tropic sea. 
 
 And while thy fingers idly stray 
 
 In dalliance o'er the lyre, 
 Sing to me, love, some rare old song 
 
 That gushed from heart of fire
 
 ANACREONTIC. 73 
 
 Song such as Grecian phalanx hymned 
 When freedom's field was won, 
 
 And Persia's glory with the light 
 Faded at Marathon. 
 
 Sing till the shouts of armed men 
 
 Ring bravely out once more : 
 Sing till again the ghost-white tents 
 
 Shine on the moon-lit shore ; 
 Bid from their melancholy graves 
 
 The buried hopes to start, 
 I knew ere many a storm had swept 
 
 The dew-drops from my heart. 
 
 Sing the deep memories of the past, 
 
 My soul shall follow thee, 
 Its boundless depths re-echoing 
 
 Thy glorious minstrelsy ; 
 And as the wild vibrations hang 
 
 Enfettered on the air, 
 I'll drink, thy white arms round me, love, 
 
 The wine that conquers care.
 
 74 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 JACQUELINE.* 
 
 Almond-eyed Jacqueline beckoned to me, 
 
 As our troop rode home from mounting guard, 
 
 And I saw Gil Perez's brow grow dark, 
 
 While his face seemed longer by half a yard. 
 
 What care I for the Spaniard's ire, 
 
 His haughty lip and glance of fire; 
 
 What so fit for these Southern lords 
 
 As the tempered edges of freemen's swords ? 
 
 Say, shall an Alva's merciless bands 
 
 Their hands in our noblest blood imbrue, 
 
 And then with accursed foreign wiles, 
 Our gentle Northern girls pursue ? 
 
 Hail to him who for freedom strikes ! 
 
 Up with your banners and down with the dykes ! 
 
 Better be whelmed 'neath ocean waves 
 
 Than live like cowards the lives of slaves. 
 
 Haughty Gil Perez may then beware, 
 For we love our blue-eyed Leyden girls, 
 
 And would welcome the shock of Toledo blades 
 Were the prize but a lock of their golden curls. 
 * A ballad of the " Low Countries," A. D. 1567.
 
 JACQUELINE. 75 
 
 Hope on, brothers, the day shall come 
 With flaunting of banner and rolling of drum, 
 When William the Silent shall rally his men 
 And scourge these wolves to their homes again.
 
 76 WILLIAM RAINES LYTLE. 
 
 A FRAGMENT. 
 
 There in our cloisters green, spangled with flowers, 
 We'll ponder o'er the page which God hath spread, 
 And drink its wonders ; the gorgeous vestment 
 Flaming with gold and crimson, nature flings 
 Over the fainting day. The rose-lipped morn 
 Night garlanded with stars, the universe 
 Teeming with rich benevolence, shall teach 
 Our hearts to mingle in a sweet communion, 
 So warm and glowing that the hoary Earth 
 In love's sweet light shall wear another youth 
 And bloom as in the old primeval garden. 
 The sands of life shall all be turned to gold, 
 Our lives, unchilled by frost, or storm, or hail, 
 Shall slowly wear away, till like ripe fruit 
 We yield our spirit to the gleaner Death.
 
 MACDONALD'S DRUMMER. 77 
 
 MACDONALD'S DRUMMER.* 
 
 A drummer-boy from fair Bayonne 
 
 By love of glory lured, 
 With bold Macdonald's stern array 
 
 The pains of war endured. 
 And now amid those dizzy heights 
 
 That girt the Splugen dread, 
 The silent columns struggled on, 
 
 And he marched at their head. 
 
 Then in those regions cold and dim, 
 
 With endless winter cursed, 
 The Alpine storm arose and scowled 
 
 And forth in fury burst 
 Burst forth on the devoted ranks, 
 
 Ambition's dauntless brood, 
 That thus with sword and lance profaned 
 
 Old Winter's solitude. 
 
 " Down ! down ! upon your faces fall ; 
 Cling to the guns ! for, lo, 
 
 * See Headley's account of the passage of the Splu 
 gen, by Marshal Macdonald.
 
 78 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 The chamois on this slippery track 
 Would dread yon gulf below !" 
 
 So speed the word from front to rear, 
 And veterans to the storm 
 
 Bowed low, who ne'er in battle bowed 
 To aught in foeman's form. 
 
 But hark ! what horror swells the gale 
 
 Beware, oh sons of France ! 
 Beware the avalanche whose home 
 
 Is 'mid these mountain haunts. 
 Yon distant thunder 't is its voice ! 
 
 The bravest held his breath, 
 And silently a prayer put up 
 
 To die a soldier's death. 
 
 And near and nearer with a roar 
 
 That loud and louder swelled, 
 The avalanche down glaciers broad 
 
 Its lightning pathway held ; 
 And through the shivering ranks it crashed, 
 
 And then with one vast stride 
 Swept down the gulf, till far below 
 
 Its muttering thunders died.
 
 MACDONALD'S DRUMMER. 79 
 
 In vain Italia's sunny plains 
 
 And reeling vines invite ; 
 Full many a soldier found his shroud 
 
 'Mid Alpine snows that night; 
 And he, his comrades' pride and boast, 
 
 The lad from fair Bayonne ? 
 The roll was called, no voice replied, 
 
 The drummer-boy was gone. 
 
 Gone ! gone ! but hark, from the abyss, 
 
 What sounds so faintly come, 
 Amid the pauses of the storm ? 
 
 It is it is the drum ! 
 He lives, he beats for aid, he sounds 
 
 The old familiar call, 
 That to the battery's smoking throat 
 
 Had brought his comrades all. 
 
 Over the dizzy verge that eve 
 
 With straining eyes they peered, 
 And heard the rattling of the drum, 
 
 In echoes strange and weird ; 
 The notes would cease, and then again 
 
 Would sound again to fail, 
 Until no more their fainting moan 
 
 Came wafted on the gale
 
 80 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 And when red Wagram's fight was fought, 
 
 And the big war was o'er, 
 A dark-haired matron in Bayonne 
 
 Stood watching by her door ; 
 Stood watching, praying many an hour, 
 
 Till hair and heart grew gray, 
 For the bright-eyed boy who, 'mid the Alps, 
 
 Was sleeping far away. 
 
 And still, belated peasants tell 
 
 How, near that Alpine height, 
 They hear the drum-roll loud and clear 
 
 On many a storm-vexed night. 
 This story of the olden time 
 
 With sad eyes they repeat, 
 And whisper by whose ghostly hands 
 
 The spirit-drum is beat
 
 THE VOLUNTEERS. 81 
 
 THE VOLUNTEERS. 
 
 The Volunteers ! the Volunteers ! 
 I dream, as in the by-gone years, 
 I hear again their stirring cheers, 
 
 And see their banners shine, 
 What time the yet unconquered North 
 Pours to the wars her legions forth, 
 For many a wrong to strike a blow 
 With mailed hand at Mexico. 
 
 The Volunteers ! Ah, where are they 
 Who bade the hostile surges stay, 
 When the black forts of Monterey 
 Frowned on their dauntless line ? 
 When, undismayed amid the shock 
 Of war, like Cerro Gordo's rock, 
 They stood, or rushed more madly on 
 Than tropic tempest o'er San Juan ? 
 
 On Angostura's crowded field 
 Their shattered columns scorned to yield, 
 And wildly yet defiance pealed 
 Their flashing batteries' throats ;
 
 82 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 And echoed then the rifle's crack, 
 As deadly as when on the track 
 Of flying foe, of yore, its voice 
 Bade Orleans' dark-eyed girls rejoice. 
 
 Blent with the roar of guns and bombs, 
 How grandly from the dim past comes 
 The roll of their victorious drums, 
 
 Their bugle's joyous notes, 
 When over Mexico's proud towers, 
 And the fair valley's storied bowers, 
 Fit recompense of toil and scars, 
 In triumph waved their flag of stars. 
 
 Ah, comrades, of your own tried troop, 
 Whose honor ne'er to shame might stoop, 
 Of lion heart and eagle swoop, 
 
 But you alone remain ; 
 On all the rest has fallen the hush 
 Of death ; the men whose battle-rush 
 Was wild as sun-loosed torrent's flow 
 From Orizaba's crest of snow. 
 
 The Volunteers ! the Volunteers ! 
 
 God send us peace through all our years,
 
 THE VOLUNTEERS. 83 
 
 But if the cloud of war appears, 
 
 We '11 see them once again. 
 . From broad Ohio's peaceful side, 
 From where the Maumee pours its tide, 
 From storm-lashed Erie's wintry shore, 
 Shall spring the Volunteers once more. 
 
 1849.
 
 84 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 A MIDSUMMER-DAY'S DREAM. 
 
 " That was a crazy business, 
 
 Trouble in every part, 
 And many a dashing soldier 
 Was quartered in thine heart." 
 
 Heinrich Heine. 
 
 Through the mellowed lights of the beech- 
 wood, 
 
 A river hummed its tune, 
 And I sat with Jeannette beside me 
 
 In the still midsummer's noon. 
 
 Jeannette is a haughty lady, 
 
 But I was a throned king, 
 Who had bidden the waves, my minstrels, 
 
 To clash their cymbals and sing. 
 
 The incense-laden breezes 
 
 Shed fragrance in their flight, 
 Through the stately aisles of my palace, 
 
 Flooded with emerald light. 
 
 And she of the rich low voice, 
 
 With music in each soft tone, 
 My heart and kingdom all were hers, 
 
 And she was mine alone.
 
 A MIDSUMMER-DAY'S DREAM. 85 
 
 Through the cool green aisle of the beeches, 
 
 The river hums its tune ; 
 But no more with Jeannette beside me 
 
 I sit at the still mid-noon. 
 
 From that memory-haunted forest, 
 
 I rode both fast and far ; 
 For Jeannette is a haughty lady, 
 
 And I am a poor huzzar !
 
 86 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 LINES TO MISS 
 
 My foot 's in the stirrup, my hand 's on the rein, 
 My proud steed is tossing his longflowing mane ; 
 Yet, stay for a moment ! I '11 wave ere we part 
 Another farewell to the girl of my heart. 
 
 How blest was the evening I knelt by her side, 
 And watched the Miami's deep willow-fringed 
 
 tide, 
 And dreamed a fair dream that love would flow 
 
 ever, 
 As smooth and as bright as the beautiful river. 
 
 " Oh, stay ! " said the rose to the wind, as it sped ; 
 Alas ! in a moment the sighing wind fled. 
 " Oh, stay ! " said the lily, "nor leave me alone," 
 Alas ! in a moment the bright wave was gone ! 
 
 Thus, wave-like and wind-like, from those whom 
 
 we love, 
 
 The bidding of fate oft compels us to rove, 
 But memory is laden with love-lighted hours, 
 As winds, and the waves, with the fragrance of 
 
 flowers.
 
 LINES TO MISS . 87 
 
 My foot's in the stirrup, my hand's on the rein, 
 My good steed is tossing his longflowing mane, 
 One wave of her white hand, one tear from 
 
 her eye 
 
 Press on, my fleet charger ! Sweet lady good 
 bye!
 
 88 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 LINES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM. 
 
 A legend has told us that Cupid and Death 
 
 Were driven by stress of the weather, 
 To an inn where they reveled in mischief and 
 fun, 
 
 And cracked a full bumper together. 
 But Cupid, the rogue, with the arrows of Death, 
 
 A bunch from his own quiver mingled ; 
 Thus oft an old swain is smitten by love, 
 
 Whom Death for a victim has singled.
 
 THE SWEET MAY MOON. 89 
 
 THE SWEET MAY MOON. 
 
 The sweet May moon has left the night 
 
 Pensive and sad ; 
 Another eve, again her light 
 
 Will shine and all be glad. 
 But no more, love, will thy quenched beam 
 Rekindle life's delicious dream. 
 
 The sweet May moon has left the stars 
 
 Twinkling and bright, 
 Fair sentinels amid the wars 
 
 That vex the gentle night. 
 But thou, oh ! love, hast veiled thy face, 
 And left no starlight in thy place. 
 
 The sweet May moon has left the wave 
 
 To sing the while 
 In some sea-hidden dreamland cave, 
 
 She hides her mellow smile. 
 But thou, oh ! love, hast left no voice 
 To bid my saddened heart rejoice.
 
 90 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 IN CAMP. 
 
 I gazed forth from my wintry tent 
 
 Upon the star-gemmed firmament ; 
 
 I heard the far-off sentry's tramp 
 
 Around our mountain-girdled camp 
 
 And saw the ghostly tents uprise 
 
 Like specters 'neath the jeweled skies. 
 
 And thus upon the snow-clad scene, 
 
 So pure and spotless and serene, 
 
 Where locked in sleep ten thousand lay 
 
 Awaiting morn's returning ray, 
 
 I gazed, till to the sun the drums 
 
 Rolled at the dawn, " He comes, he comes." 
 
 1862. Bardstown, Ky.
 
 } T IS NOT THE TIME. 91 
 
 'TIS NOT THE TIME. 
 
 'T is not the time for dalliance soft 
 
 In gentle ladies' bowers, 
 When treason flaunts her flag aloft 
 
 And dares to tread on ours. 
 Again the swords our fathers wore 
 
 Must in the scabbards rattle, 
 And we will sing the songs of yore, 
 
 When marching forth to battle. 
 
 From every pine-clad mountain side, 
 
 From every dimpled valley, 
 The bugles ringing far and wide, 
 
 Invite the brave to rally. 
 And far to East and far to West 
 
 Our iron line advances, 
 While freedom's flag, by freemen blessed, 
 
 In glory o'er us dances. 
 
 But when the birds of morning sing, 
 
 And all the wars are over, 
 Our lances at your feet we '11 fling, 
 
 And then we '11 play the lover.
 
 92 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 And all will say 'tis time to wed, 
 As gayly drums shall rattle. 
 
 Before our conquering column's head, 
 When marching home from battle. 
 
 1862.
 
 WHEN THE LONG SHADOWS. 93 
 
 WHEN THE LONG SHADOWS. 
 
 When the long shadows on my path are lying, 
 Will those I love be gathered at my side ; 
 
 Clustered around my couch of pain, and trying 
 To light the dark way, trod without a guide ? 
 
 Shall it be mine, beyond the tossing billow, 
 Neath foreign skies, to feel the approach of 
 death, 
 
 Will stranger hands smooth down my dying pillow, 
 And watch with kindly heart my failing breath ? 
 
 Or shall, perchance, the little stars be shining 
 On some lone spot, where, far from home and 
 friends, 
 
 The way-worn pilgrim on the turf reclining, 
 His life and much of grief together ends ? 
 
 Ah ! whereso'er the closing scene may find me, 
 'Mid friends or foemen or in deserts lone, 
 
 May there be some of those I leave behind me 
 To shed a tear for me when I am gone.
 
 94 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Full well I know life's current, onward rushing, 
 Sweeps hearts away from spots where they 
 would cling, 
 
 And by life's shores fair flowers are ever blushing. 
 That o'er the waves a Lethean fragrance fling. 
 
 Yet when the thousand gales of morn are blowing, 
 Or when the bright moon gilds the solemn sea, 
 
 And the sweet stars their smiles on earth are 
 
 throwing, 
 In the wide world, will none remember me ?
 
 THE MERRY DAYS OF ELD. 95 
 
 THE MERRY DAYS OF ELD. 
 
 I have read of an old world 
 In the merry days of eld, 
 When the knight his armor wore, 
 And the king gay tourneys held ; 
 When the gentle couched the lance, 
 And the peasant bore the glave, 
 And beauty sweetly smiled upon 
 The loyal and the brave. 
 Yet mourn not that this stout old world like a 
 
 dream has passed away, 
 That the clang of arms rings out no more, with 
 
 stirring trumpets' fray, 
 That the sturdy knight so bold and the prince so 
 
 stern and proud 
 
 Sleep well the long and silent sleep, each wrapped 
 in his white shroud. 
 
 There is festival to-night 
 In the castle's lofty hall, 
 And the fire logs gleam bright 
 On the armor on the wall.
 
 96 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 " Ho! " shouts the Baron, " Minstrels, 
 Let your harps sing merrilie, 
 Ho ! fill the cups with foaming wine, 
 And drink to Chivalrie." 
 But far off on a frosty moor, beside his humble 
 
 cot, 
 The shivering serf his fagot rakes, nor murmurs 
 
 at his lot, 
 His voice is hushed, his lips are closed, but his 
 
 eye lets fall a tear, 
 
 When the night wind whispers tones of mirth to 
 his unwilling ear. 
 
 The lord rides forth to battle 
 For our blessed Savior's shrine, 
 He battles with the Paynim 
 On the sands of Palestine. 
 His deeds shine out in story, 
 Of his arm so quick and strong, 
 The harper chants his glory forth 
 And breathes his name in song. 
 
 But the serf he toils from morning, he toils till 
 evening grey, 
 
 With an aching brow and fainting heart he plods 
 along his way,
 
 THE MERRY DAYS OF ELD. 97 
 
 Grief, like a night-bird, gloomily, sits brooding on 
 
 his soul, 
 For him, no deeds of high emprise, no place on 
 
 glory's scroll. 
 
 Oh ! these merry tales of eld, 
 Of the days that now are gone, 
 How they flee before the truth 
 Like spirits from the dawn. 
 And poets sing of barons, 
 Of war, and gay amour, 
 But they never yet have caroled 
 The sad song of the poor. 
 Then mourn not that this stout old world like a 
 
 dream has passed away, 
 That the clang of arms rings out no more with 
 
 stirring trumpet's fray, 
 That the sturdy knight so bold, and the prince so 
 
 stern and proud 
 
 Sleep well, their long and silent sleep, each 
 wrapped in his white shroud.
 
 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLfi. 
 
 LINES TO MISS E- 
 
 The pulse of the year beat low, throbbed low, 
 
 The winds went drearily sighing ; 
 For wrapped in their shrouds of snow, white snow, 
 
 The last of fall flowers were lying. 
 
 I heard the north storm come down, come down, 
 
 From its farthest icy dwelling, 
 Through leafless forests all brown, all brown, 
 
 The doom of the old year knelling. 
 
 But when the light of thy smile, sweet smile, 
 Was shed on the lone chance-comer, 
 
 He dreamed a fair dream awhile, awhile, 
 Of beauty and love and summer.
 
 THE HAUNTED RIVER. 99 
 
 THE HAUNTED RIVER. 
 
 Through a desolate dim region, 
 
 Rolls a haunted river, 
 
 Shapes and shades whose name is legion, 
 
 Vex its tide forever. 
 
 Round it loom steep promontories 
 
 Fringed with morning's ruddy glories, 
 
 In the olden day, 
 
 Now, wan and gray ; 
 And still this sad, mysterious river 
 Goes sweeping, moaning on forever. 
 
 Once amid enchanted islands, 
 Where the May reposes, 
 Starred with flower-crowned highlands, 
 Drunk with breath of roses, 
 Flashed its current in the sunlight, 
 Sung its waters in the moonlight, 
 
 Sung to Dian, 
 
 And Orion; 
 
 Now, this sad, mysterious river, 
 Sweeps and moans along, forever.
 
 100 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 FADED FLOWERS. 
 
 Woven of fire 
 
 And light, these flowers be emblems of the soul, 
 Whose wing plies ceaselessly to win its goal, 
 
 Till time expire. 
 
 Beauty at dawn 
 Was theirs, drunk with rich odors, thieves of 
 
 hues 
 
 Stolen from Iris, reeling with draughts of dews ; 
 At eve, how wan. 
 
 Frail flowers ! poor heart ! 
 Dew, beauty, fragrance linger till the noon, 
 At eve, conspire to flee your presence soon, 
 
 At night, depart. 
 
 So reads the sign 
 
 May thy day linger long whose morn has spoken 
 Hope to the heart, and peace as yet unbroken, 
 
 Longer than mine.
 
 TWO YEARS AGO. 101 
 
 TWO YEARS AGO. 
 
 The winds were still, the waters shone 
 Beneath the May moon ; we alone 
 Upon the rose-twined portico 
 In silence stood, two years ago. 
 
 Her blue-veined hand was clasped in mine, 
 My pulse leapt as if lashed with wine. 
 Love, on expression could not wreak 
 Its passions, though I burned to speak. 
 
 Forth, lava-like, at last the gush 
 
 Of passionate speech broke on the hush, 
 
 And wildly poured upon her ear 
 
 The words she feared, yet loved, to hear. 
 
 In maiden beauty how she stood, 
 Fair type of saintly womanhood; 
 Shine out, sweet stars, on charms divine 
 And radiantly pure as thine. 
 
 The prize was won, the prize is lost; 
 It may be weak, but, tempest tossed, 
 I watch the dim receding shore 
 From whence I drift forever more.
 
 102 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Tell her, oh ! night, if toward the North 
 Her gentle eyes now wander forth 
 To find my love's bright symbol there, 
 Unquenchable amid despair. 
 
 The winds are still, the water gleams 
 Beneath the May moon ; but the dreams 
 I dreamed are gone, and now I know 
 How blessed I was two years ago.
 
 A VALENTINE. 103 
 
 A VALENTINE. 
 
 A loiterer by the ocean's azure swell, 
 
 Enraptured seized a gem born of the spray, 
 Scarce half admired, a still more beauteous shell 
 
 Hath prompted him to fling the first away. 
 So oft before, the tides of time had cast 
 
 Such charms across my path, I could have sworn 
 Their witching radiance beauty unsurpassed ; 
 
 Sprung from the bright sea-caves, where lurks 
 
 the morn. 
 
 Yet scarce had they my happiness undone, 
 Ere some new fancy my allegiance won. 
 Till waved thy scepter and my heart remained 
 A trembling prisoner by beauty's links unchained.
 
 104 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 LOVE AND TIME. 
 
 There beat a young heart which had never known 
 
 love, 
 'T was as fresh as the bloom of the red summer 
 
 rose, 
 
 Till the merry God smiled from the regions above, 
 And launched a bright arrow, that broke its 
 repose. 
 
 He launched a bright arrow, that broke its repose. 
 
 When the fairy-like maiden was smiling in sleep ; 
 The wound was a-bleeding, when just as love rose, 
 
 Old Time chanced along on his pinions to sweep: 
 
 Old Time chanced along on his pinions to sweep, 
 And on the new wound that the arrow had made, 
 
 As he passed without stopping (his crop was to 
 
 reap), 
 All softly and gently his finger he laid 
 
 All softly and gently his finger he laid, 
 Then noiselessly glided away from the spot, 
 
 And careless, and gladsome, as e'er was the maid, 
 Love's dream, and the wound, and the arrow, 
 forgot.
 
 LINES. 105 
 
 LINES. 
 
 SUGGESTED ON THE DEATH OF GENERAL T. L. HAMER. 
 
 The brave who sleep in glory's shroud, 
 
 How proud a fate is theirs ! 
 A stricken nation mourning stands 
 
 In grief beside their biers. 
 Strewn o'er our mountains and our plains, 
 
 Their bones in clusters lie, 
 And stars smile on their humble graves 
 
 From out the quiet sky. 
 
 Some fell upon the highland's crest, 
 
 And some sleep in the vale, 
 Where violets in summer time 
 
 Are nodding in the gale. 
 The bones of some are whitening 
 
 In stormy ocean's deep, 
 On hill and plain and ocean bed 
 
 So tranquilly they sleep. 
 
 From city and from country side 
 
 In pride of youth they came, 
 The noble and the beautiful, 
 
 To shield from harm or shame
 
 106 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 The rich old memories of the past, 
 
 The glorious legacy 
 From men who in the olden time 
 
 Fought battles to be free. 
 
 Around the effulgent flag they pressed, 
 
 That, borne in many wars, 
 Dishonor never visited 
 
 To lurk amid its stars. 
 To guard it with the old renown, 
 
 Or dearly life to sell, 
 They closed around its lustrous sheen, 
 
 And, conquering, they fell. 
 
 In time's dim cycles yet to come, 
 
 The mother to her child 
 Will tell of the fierce battle won 
 
 And the red carnage wild. 
 And proud tradition shall hand down 
 
 The glory of the brave, 
 Long as above free hearts and hands 
 
 Our star-lit flag shall wave. 
 1849.
 
 A SERENADE. 107 
 
 A SERENADE. 
 
 The air is soft and balmy, 
 
 And the moon shines clear and bright, 
 
 So throw your lattice wide, Ladie, 
 
 And bless my eyes to-night. 
 
 No smoothly polished lay I sing 
 
 Like courtly chevalier, 
 
 Yet let the soldier's tale of love 
 
 Fall sweetly on your ear. 
 
 I come from far countree, 
 
 From the land of tropic sun, 
 
 Where fame, and wreaths of laurel 
 
 And glorious names are won ; 
 
 Where the dews of night fall harmlessly 
 
 On the saber's polished side 
 
 As the dews of Time but strengthen 
 
 My soul's love for its bride.
 
 108 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 SONG OF THE LIGHTNING. 
 
 For a thousand years of time and more, 
 
 From the depths of my misty lair, 
 
 I issued forth to the frozen north, 
 
 But as lord of the upper air. 
 
 The sway o'er life and death was mine, 
 
 Where 'er my footsteps trod, 
 
 And in all Creation's broad expanse, 
 
 I bowed to none but God. 
 
 Where I slumbered, who might know ? 
 
 Or was cradled, who could tell ? 
 
 Fierce in my wrath, my blackened path 
 
 Was scorched with flames of Hell. 
 
 Yet I dwelt in each dew-wet moss-rose bud, 
 
 In each trembling blade of grass, 
 
 And in sportive glee I skimmed the sea 
 
 And danced o'er the dark morass. 
 
 I crouched in the granite quarry midst, 
 I pierced the dull old earth, 
 I fired the train that long had lain, 
 And shouted with horrid mirth,
 
 SONG OF THE LIGHTNING. 109 
 
 When fierce volcano flung its glare 
 Far o'er the ocean's brine, 
 And poured the scalding lava forth 
 As flagon pours the wine. 
 
 Earth's quickener, I slumbered oft, 
 
 For centuries concealed, 
 
 Like a great thought in stillness wrought 
 
 To blaze when once revealed. 
 
 Blasting or blessing, alike I strode 
 
 An angel or a fiend, 
 
 And on flaming wing rejoicing, 
 
 Through the deep vault careened. 
 
 But I shouted aloud from an inky shroud 
 When with death and woe I came, 
 And pealed a blast as I hurried past, 
 That shook earth's rock-ribbed frame ; 
 And suppliant forests bowed their crests 
 As my black cohorts swept by, 
 And the pealing tongue of the thunder flung 
 Aloft my battle-cry. 
 
 A good ship sailing on the sea, 
 A pilgrim on the shore, 
 A temple on a lonely hill 
 Where worship bowed of yore ;
 
 110 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 A blinding flash, a thunder peal, 
 That fills the welkin wide, 
 A hulk, a corse, a ruin, tell 
 The sum of human pride. 
 
 Ye know how the treacherous wit of men 
 
 Has lured me with my love, 
 
 How the wing that flamed so free is tamed, 
 
 To the flight of the carrier dove 
 
 But beware the lightning's tongue of fire, 
 
 Ye cunning sons of men, 
 
 When the woe begetter shall rend his fetter, 
 
 And roam the skies again !
 
 OMENS. Ill 
 
 OMENS. 
 
 " Here I am, Lord, for thou didst call me." 
 
 I Sam. iii, 8. 
 
 Last night in the mid-watch 
 When all was still and drear, 
 My name, I heard it called, 
 Oh, Christ, how dread to hear. 
 Was it a dream ? no sleep 
 Had kissed my lids that night ; 
 Helpless I lay and powerless, 
 All trembling with affright. 
 
 I listened, yet no sound 
 Smote on my straining ear, 
 Save the wild wind whirling 
 The leaflets torn and sere. 
 And in the sudden pause, 
 As sped its coursers fleet, 
 Solemnly in the gloom around 
 I heard the night's pulse beat. 
 
 Doubt not between our world 
 And those where spirits dwell,
 
 112 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Shadowy links there be 
 Whereof tongue can not tell. 
 Heed not the haughty soul 
 Whose wisdom never bends, 
 At the still voice of Omens, 
 That God in mercy lends. 
 
 In the broad light of day, 
 
 When gloom broods o'er the deep, 
 
 His arm is still to shield us, 
 
 His love can never sleep. 
 
 His mercy walks abroad at noon, 
 
 And on the midnight air ; 
 
 So thought I, and my troubled soul 
 
 Found rest again in prayer.
 
 LINES ON MY THIRTY-SIXTH BIRTHDAY. 113 
 
 LINES ON MY THIRTY-SIXTH BIRTH 
 DAY. 
 
 Swift through the hurricane of life 
 
 My shattered bark drives on, 
 The pilot's hand has left the helm, 
 
 Rudder and mast are gone. 
 I hear the roar of angry seas, 
 
 And see the breakers rise, 
 Revealed amid the sullen gloom 
 
 By lightning-lighted skies. 
 
 'T is done ! To hope I bid farewell, 
 
 Love and her lights may flee, 
 And youth's entrancing glamour fades 
 
 From hope to memory. 
 Far o'er the Atlantic's waves to-night 
 
 My true love wends her way, 
 And many a tear is mingled with 
 
 The ocean's briny spray. 
 
 Gird on my trusty blade once more, 
 And saddle my sinewy steed ; 
 
 Dash down the gloomy page to earth, 
 Whose lore I would not read.
 
 114 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Weave fast your woof, weird sisters three ! 
 
 Again among the brave, 
 For freedom and for victory, 
 
 Or for a soldier's grave ! 
 
 1862.
 
 LINES TO MY SISTERS. 115 
 
 LINES TO MY SISTERS. 
 
 Dear sisters, mid the toil and strife 
 
 That vex young manhood's troubled life, 
 
 My heart to you will fondly stray, 
 
 Though absent now and far away. 
 
 I miss your words of hope and cheer, 
 
 That nerved my soul when all was drear, 
 
 The sunny smiles and soothing ways 
 
 So prized from earliest boyhood's days. 
 
 In vain for me the applause of men, 
 
 The laurel won by sword or pen, 
 
 But for the hope, so dear and sweet, 
 
 To lay my trophies at your feet. 
 
 And though the world should prove unkind, 
 
 A solace in your smiles I '11 find. 
 
 The links that link us three together 
 
 Defy this life's most stormy weather, 
 
 And in bright worlds we know not of 
 
 Will still enclasp our sacred love. 
 
 Bloom, flowers! where'er my sisters move; 
 
 Shine on them, stars ! with beams of love ;
 
 116 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Your vigils, holy angels, keep 
 That no dark dream affright their sleep ; 
 And sunny garlands, fortune, twine 
 To deck their brows, sweet sisters mine.
 
 'TIS ONLY ONCE WE LOVE. 117 
 
 'TIS ONLY ONCE WE LOVE. 
 
 The heart that throbbed at Glory's voice 
 
 And followed in her train, 
 Although in sloth it slumbers long, 
 
 May wake to life again. 
 But ah ! when once true love has bloomed, 
 
 As many a heart can prove, 
 The fragrance wasted ne'er returns 
 
 'Tis only once we love. 
 
 I tread the sunny paths of life, 
 
 'Mid beauty's proud array, 
 But the spell that lent a charm to all 
 
 Has mist-like passed away. 
 No more the thrill from mingled pulse 
 
 The eloquent low sigh, 
 Nor the unbidden tear of joy 
 
 That trembled in the eye. 
 
 Yet ofttimes in my early dreams, 
 
 From some enchanted isle, 
 Comes one with her soft, winning voice 
 
 And the old gladsome smile,
 
 118 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 And hand in hand we wander on 
 Through violet-bordered glades, 
 
 Till with the night's starred legions bright 
 The joyous vision fades. 
 
 Ah ! sadly pass the hours away 
 
 When that sweet light departs, 
 Which fair as dawn on Eden rose 
 
 With rapture on our hearts. 
 And many a blossom fair is culled 
 
 As through the world we rove ; 
 But the fairest is the rarest flower. 
 
 'Tis only once we love.
 
 THE SIEGE OF CHAPULTEPEC. 119 
 
 THE SIEGE OF CHAPULTEPEC. 
 
 Wide o'er the valley the pennons are fluttering, 
 War's sullen story the deep guns are muttering, 
 Forward ! blue-jackets, in good steady order, 
 Strike for the fame of your good northern border ; 
 Forever shall history tell of the bloody check 
 Waiting the foe at the siege of Chapultepec. 
 
 Let the proud deeds of your fathers inspire ye 
 
 still, 
 Think ye of Monmouth, and Princeton, and 
 
 Bunker Hill, 
 
 Come from your hallowed graves, famous in story, 
 Shades of our heroes, and lead us to glory. 
 Side by side, son and father with hoary head 
 Struggle for triumph, or death on a gory bed. 
 
 Hark ! to the charge ! the war-hail is pattering, 
 The foe through our ranks red rain is scattering; 
 Huzza ! forward ! no halting or flagging till 
 Proudly the red stripes float o'er yon rocky hill. 
 Northern and Southerner, let your feuds smolder ; 
 Charge! for our banner's fame, shoulder to 
 shoulder !
 
 120 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Flash the fort guns, and thunders their stunning 
 
 swell 
 
 Far o'er the valley to white Popocatapetl, 
 Death revels high in the midst of the bloody sport, 
 Bursting in flame from each black-throated cas 
 tle-port, 
 
 Press on the line with keen sabers dripping wet, 
 Cheer, as ye smite with the death-dealing bayonet ! 
 
 Our bold Northern eagle, king of the firmament, 
 Shares with no rival the skies of the continent. 
 Yields the fierce foeman; down let his flag be 
 
 hurled, 
 
 Shout, as our own from the turret is wide un 
 furled! 
 
 Shout ! for long shall Mexico mourn the wreck 
 Of her proud state at the siege of Chapultepec. 
 
 1848.
 
 THE SOLDIER'S DEATH. 121 
 
 THE SOLDIER'S DEATH.* 
 
 " Early in the morning we found him lying cold and 
 stiff on the scene of his former exploits." 
 
 The night had come and the stars were bright, 
 And the moon shone o'er the battlefield, 
 When the unjust cause of a tryant's might 
 Was crushed by the weight of freedom's shield. 
 
 Years passed by and a people great 
 Had arisen in a mighty land, 
 And peace and hope and might they date 
 From a contest gained by a gallant band. 
 
 Upon the waste so stained with blood, 
 
 Beside a great and rushing stream, 
 
 A worn and weary soldier stood, 
 
 Like a phantom raised in a feverish dream. 
 
 As the winds of winter by him course, 
 And curl the foam on the billow's crest, 
 Naught can oppose their onward force, 
 They carry a groan from the soldier's breast. 
 
 * Written at the age of fourteen.
 
 122 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 The scenes of the past before him glow, 
 While memory's rays upon them beam, 
 And the waste before is crowded now 
 And polished arms before him gleam. 
 
 Through the vault of heaven the bugles call, 
 The eager troops to the conflict pour, 
 Like grass before the scythe they fall, 
 Mowed down as the cannons loudly roar. 
 
 As the moon beams on their armor dance, 
 Springing like beast from out his lair, 
 Each grasping close his deadly lance, 
 The shadowy horsemen fast appear. 
 
 As in their crowded ranks they stream, 
 Now loudly swells the battle cry, 
 Floating in air their banners gleam, 
 With clashing swords is the tumult high. 
 
 See the old man stands with kindling eyes, 
 And lifting high his hoary head, 
 His upraised arm he scarcely stays, 
 'T is but the battle of the dead. 
 
 The night has passed the morn has come, 
 With rosy hue the east is flushed.
 
 THE SOLDIER'S DEATH. 123 
 
 And on that spot seemed nature dumb, 
 So tranquil was the scene and hushed. 
 
 When mortals by the wayside passed, 
 The soldier's last deep breath had flown, 
 With naught to cheer save the midnight blast, 
 On the battlefield had he died alone. 
 
 1840.
 
 124 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 THE FARMER. 
 
 From golden morn till dewy eve, 
 
 When the sky gleams bright and red, 
 With many a strong and sturdy stroke, 
 
 I labor for my bread. 
 No sickly fits nor ills I dread, 
 
 My chest is deep and broad, 
 And though I work the live-long day, 
 
 I rise and thank my God. 
 
 No lily hue is on my brow, 
 
 No rings on my hard hand, 
 I wield the axe, I drive the plow ; 
 
 Or when war shrouds the land, 
 I seize my father's well-tried blade, 
 
 And that for Freedom's sod 
 It is my glorious right to bleed, 
 
 I rise and thank my God. 
 
 And when my daily task is o'er, 
 And the sun is sinking low, 
 
 As faint with work and honest toil, 
 To my humble roof I go,
 
 THE FARMER. 125 
 
 I see the perfumed city beau 
 
 With his ebony walking rod, 
 And that I 'm not a thing like him, 
 
 I rise and thank my God. 
 
 The widow's prayer upon mine ear, 
 
 Unheeded never fell, 
 I ne'er beheld the orphan's tear, 
 
 But my own heart's fount would swell. 
 I never Heaven for gold would sell, 
 
 Nor for wealth would stoop to fraud, 
 A poor but yet an honest man, 
 
 I rise and thank my God. 
 
 And when the good sun floods with light 
 
 This land of liberty, 
 And spreads around my happy sight, 
 
 As in prayer I bend the knee, 
 That I am strong and bold and free, 
 
 In the land my fathers trod, 
 With quivering lip and outstretched arms, 
 
 I rise and thank my God. 
 
 1843-
 
 126 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 HUNTING SONG. 
 
 Arouse ! Hunters ! Arouse ! 
 
 Brightly breaks the morn, 
 Freshly blows the morning breeze, 
 
 And cheerily winds the horn. 
 The deer his covert leaving, 
 
 Lingers in the vale, 
 And over the lofty mountain-top 
 
 The crimson glories sail. 
 
 Awake ! Hunters ! Awake ! 
 
 Nature from her sleep 
 In summer's arms comes forth 
 
 To bid the glad pulse leap. 
 The sorrowing night has vanished, 
 
 Her dreary watching done, 
 Her tear-drops hung on trembling leaves 
 
 Are glittering in the sun. 
 
 To horse ! Hunters ! To horse ! 
 
 Bounds each noble steed 
 Like a bold spirit wearying 
 
 From bondage to be freed.
 
 HUNTING SONG. 127 
 
 Give rein! give rein; with ringing shout 
 
 The soaring eagle scare, 
 And follow with echoing cry the stag, 
 
 Deep in his forest lair. 
 
 1846.
 
 128 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 SONG OF THE RAGGED ATTORNEY. 
 " Lidentum dicere verum quid betat ? " Horace. 
 My coat has long since lost its gloss, 
 
 My purse of gold is bare, 
 I stride no horses fleet and fine, 
 
 Nor dine on dainties rare. 
 Yet ho ! my cheek is full and red, 
 
 My eye is clear and bright, 
 And I laugh at rags, and want and care, 
 
 With a jolly strong heart and light. 
 
 Ha ! ha ! Sir Spider, on the wall, 
 
 How lank you look and poor, 
 We' ve neither webbed a single fly 
 
 For a good twelve months or more. 
 Yet ho ! who cares ? we both live high 
 
 As high as we can get 
 And we season the good things that we say 
 
 With the salt of our attic wit. 
 
 The spider has fled into his web, 
 The mouse, he scampers away, 
 
 And the dusty office seems chill and drear, 
 With the shadows long and grey.
 
 SONG OF THE RAGGED ATTORNEY. 129 
 
 What ho, old moth ! art working still ? 
 
 The prince of scholars you be 
 Toiling away in your wormy cell 
 
 Like a monk right steadily. 
 
 And now to fancy's mystic eye, 
 
 The mournful twilight teems 
 With solemn shapes and dusky forms 
 
 From the dark land of dreams. 
 What ho ! start not, I know them well, 
 
 Brave doctors of the law 
 Each one in place quick for the dance 
 
 My quivering bow I draw. 
 
 Ha ! ha ! these figures grave and dusk, 
 
 See how they wheel and spin, 
 Footing it up and shuffling down 
 
 To the merry violin. 
 Oh ! ho ! 't is a farcical sight to see 
 
 Lord Eldon, you alone, 
 Now forward Coke, and Matthew Hale, 
 
 With jolly old Blackstone. 
 
 The soldier loves the flash of steel, 
 
 The sailor loves the sea, 
 The forester carols a merry tune 
 
 In praise of the greenwood tree ;
 
 130 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Yet ho ! for law, with scales so bright, 
 And the sword to shield from harm, 
 
 And her ragged sons who laugh at care, 
 With jolly light hearts and strong. 
 
 1845-
 
 THE FAREWELL. 131 
 
 THE FAREWELL. 
 
 My bark is clearing a path of light 
 
 Over the waters fair, 
 In whose crystal depths the Queen of Night 
 
 Is bathing her golding hair. 
 Silence and beauty are throned above, 
 
 In the vaults of the summer sky, 
 And the river murmurs a tale of love 
 
 To the stars as it ripples by. 
 
 Tell, fair Moon, if thy golden eye 
 
 My lady-love can discover, 
 Does she gaze on thine orb in sympathy 
 
 And muse on her distant lover ? 
 Or if through her casement thou shinest now. 
 
 On her pride in sleep serene, 
 Strew lightly. Moon, on her peerless brow 
 
 The snow of thy silver sheen. 
 
 Night wind, droop thy waving wings, 
 
 I pray thee cease to rove, 
 Till I burden thy heedless wanderings 
 
 With the precious freight of love.
 
 132 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Then plume thy scented wing once more, 
 Thy way by the moonlight steer, 
 
 And the burning tide of my bosom pour 
 By stealth in my lady's ear. 
 
 Breathe to her, wind, farewell, for one 
 
 Over whose days she threw 
 A ray of gladness such as shone 
 
 When yet the world was new. 
 Say that afar his heart will tell 
 
 Of those bright hours cherished long, 
 As the crimson lip of the lone sea-shell 
 
 Murmurs its ocean song. 
 
 1846.
 
 GENERAL LYTLE S LAST SPEECH, 
 
 DELIVERED IN CAMP AT BRIDGEPORT, ALABAMA, 
 
 AUGUST 9, 1863, 
 ON RECEIVING A JEWELED MALTESE CROSS 
 
 FROM THE OFFICERS OF 
 
 THE TENTH OHIO REGIMENT. 
 
 The presentation speech, by Colonel Wm. W. 
 Ward, of Ohio, concluded in these words : 
 
 "We, now, your old comrades in arms, wit 
 nesses of your conspicuous gallantry in the field ; 
 witnesses, also, of your skill in council, and thor 
 oughly conversant with your accurate knowledge 
 of military duty present to ' OUR COLONEL' the 
 cross I have placed, General, upon your breast, 
 knowing as we all do and also anxious to tell 
 your dear brothers in arms gentlemen of whose 
 gallanty I would have been assured, even if you 
 had not told me of it that OUR COLONEL'S cross 
 will be like the white plume of the hero of Ivry 
 
 seek it where the fight is thickest." 
 
 (i33)
 
 134 WILLIAM HA1NES LYTLE. 
 
 GENERAL LYTLE'S SPEECH. 
 
 Colonel, and Gentlemen of the Tenth Ohio In 
 fantry My old Friends and Comrades : I can not 
 tell you how deeply I am touched by this beauti 
 ful testimonial. I am very glad to learn that, al 
 though you have not for a long time been under 
 my command, you have not forgotten me ; and I 
 feel it also an especial honor that you have taken 
 the trouble to visit me in our camp in the moun 
 tains to make me this present in the midst of a 
 campaign, and, I fear, at great personal inconven 
 ience. In all sincerity I can say to you that never 
 did the heart of a soldier of the Old Guard beat 
 higher no, not even when at the hands of the 
 " Little Corporal" himself he received the Cross 
 of the Legion than does mine to-day. Come 
 what may to me to-morrow or in days beyond ; 
 come what may, as under the leadership of our 
 gallant chief, the invincible Rosecrans, this Army 
 of the Cumberland follows his happy star through 
 the eventful drama of the war, at least for me
 
 SPEECH OF GENERAL LYTLE. 135 
 
 this token, from the cherished comrades with 
 whom I entered the service, is secure. 
 
 So long as, in God's providence, my life is 
 spared, I shall look on it, gentlemen, and be re 
 minded of many a stirring incident, both in your 
 experience and mine. It will recall the pale and 
 troubled faces with which men stood in the black 
 shadows that strove before civil war, and the 
 horror that thrilled our breasts when the rebellion 
 first proclaimed itself by overt acts ; the revered and 
 holy flag of the nation was fired on by parricidal 
 hands at Charleston. It will bring back to me the 
 fiery and tumultuous gatherings of armed men that 
 rallied to defend the flag. I will remember, as I 
 gaze on it, a thousand incidents connected with our 
 camps at Harrison and Dennison. It will remind 
 me of the long and weary marches when our 
 solitary column threaded the mountain defiles of 
 West Virginia, of the memorable 8th of October 
 at Carnifex Ferry, when your ranks, plowed by 
 shot and shell, stood fast and firm until the enemy 
 fell back across the Gauley under cover of the 
 night, the movement masked by darkness and the 
 roar of the mountain stream. It will remind me 
 of the brave Milroy; of Fitzgibbon, the color-
 
 136 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 bearer ; of Kavanaugh and Kennedy, of many a 
 hero soldier whose name we will keep green in 
 memory; of that red autumnal day, at Chaplin 
 Hills, when Jackson, Terrill, Jones and Campbell 
 fell, their names crowned with the deathless laurel, 
 when, in your own brigade, the chivalry of Ohio 
 and Kentucky, and Indiana and Michigan, added 
 a new and glorious leaf to the somber annals of 
 the Dark and Bloody Ground. 
 
 I will be reminded too, as I gaze upon its em 
 erald and its shamrock, the significant emblems 
 with which your taste and the craft of the artisan 
 have enriched it, of that gallant and beautiful 
 island of the sea, the devotion of whose children 
 to my country and their country, has been so 
 gloriously manifested in this hour of her bitterest 
 travail. 
 
 String with fresh cords the Irish harp, worn 
 with recounting the triumphs of your race, to 
 breathe in new and yet loftier strains of minstrelsy 
 their deeds in arms and deeds of noble daring 
 during this rebellion. Let the pale cheek of Erin, 
 as she watches across the deep, crimson with ex 
 ultation at the names of Corcoran and Meagher, 
 and the record of your own gallant regiment, the
 
 SPEECH OF GENERAL LYTLE. 137 
 
 armed witness before this, your generation, to the 
 undying fame of Richard Montgomery. 
 
 I will not deny, gentlemen, that when on re 
 porting to this department, I found you were to 
 be no longer in my command, I felt that sense of 
 loneliness and isolation natural to one whose old 
 army associations were broken up. My present 
 command will pardon me for saying this, I know, 
 for, in my judgment, no man who forgets his old 
 friends deserves to make new ones. But long 
 since I have felt perfectly at home, and I can not 
 let this the first occasion that has presented 
 itself pass by without expressing to the officers 
 and men of the First Brigade my heartfelt 
 thanks for the warm and generous welcome they 
 have awarded to a stranger. Gentlemen of the 
 Tenth Ohio, you see around you your brethren 
 in arms, the men of Sheridan's division ; men 
 from the North-west, from the clans of the peo 
 ple, who pitch their tents on the prairies of Illi 
 nois and Michigan and Wisconsin, and by the 
 shores of the great lakes, veterans of Pea Ridge, 
 Perryville, and Stone River. When the next 
 fight comes on, may they and the Old Tenth 
 stand shoulder to shoulder, and see by whom, in
 
 138 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 glorious emulation, our battle-flags into the ranks 
 of the enemy can be flung the farthest and fol 
 lowed the closest. Nor will it diminish your in 
 terest in this brigade to tell you it was once com 
 manded by the pure and heroic Sill Sill, whom 
 you knew so well last year, during your campaign 
 in Northern Alabama. Than his, the war has de 
 veloped no nobler spirit. The Military Academy 
 at West Point might point to his name alone, and 
 stand fast in the affections of the people. Ohio 
 in no braver or better blood has sealed her de 
 votion to the Union. 
 
 " Him shall no sunshine from the field of azure, 
 No drum beat from the wall 
 No morning gun, from the black fort's embrasure, 
 Awaken with its call," 
 
 But his name will be embalmed in the praise 
 of states, and this, his old brigade, at Chatta 
 nooga, or Atlanta, or in Eastern Tennessee, or 
 wherever its proud banners flaunt the sky, will 
 cherish his memory and avenge his fall. 
 
 But, gentlemen, I know your time is limited, 
 and that I must not detain you too long. Rest 
 assured that I shall follow the military career of
 
 SPEECH OF GENERAL LYTLE. 139 
 
 each and all of you with the deepest solicitude. 
 The third year of the war is upon us. How fierce 
 has been the struggle, our vast national debt and 
 shattered ranks bear witness. Whether the end 
 is near or not, I can not tell. The past months 
 will be forever memorable for the splendid 
 triumphs of our arms, and to the eyes of hope 
 the sky is flushed with faint light and the morning 
 seems near at hand. But come victory or come 
 defeat, come triumph or come disaster, this I 
 know, that against rebels in the field or traitors at 
 home, despite the plots of weak-kneed and cow 
 ardly politicians of the North and the machina 
 tions of foreign despots and aristocrats, the scarred 
 and bronzed veterans of the warlike West, the 
 men on whose banners are inscribed Mill Springs 
 and Donelson, Pea Ridge and Vicksburg, Shiloh, 
 Carnifex and Stone River, will make no terms, 
 accept no truce, indorse no treaty, until the mili 
 tary power of the rebellion is crushed forever, and 
 the supremacy of the National Government ac 
 knowledged from the Potomac to the Rio Grande. 
 Am I told that Union restored by force of arms 
 is not worth having ? Am I told that if the states 
 now in revolt are whipped in fair fight beaten
 
 140 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 and humiliated they will be unworthy and de 
 graded members of the Union ? We must have 
 peace first, says a certain school of politicians, 
 and then, if we can, we will argue the South into 
 a reconstruction. In other words, these gentle 
 men would have the Government .and the loyal 
 masses of the country drain to the dregs the bitter 
 cup which they would dash from the hands of 
 traitors and rebels. The territory you have oc 
 cupied is to be abandoned, the public property, 
 the dock-yards, and fortresses you have re 
 captured after two years of war, are to be sur 
 rendered, the victorious armies of the Mississippi, 
 the Cumberland, and the Potomac, followed by 
 the jeers and scoffs of the enemy, are to sneak, 
 with arms reversed and flags trailed in the dust, 
 across the Northern border ; and your Government 
 the Government of Washington, and Jefferson, 
 and Jackson is to cower, dishonored and dis 
 graced, a byword and hissing among the nations. If 
 the rebel armies (I will not say the rebel States, for 
 it is not against the States, nor their constitutional 
 rights, we wage war), if the rebel armies, and the 
 oligarchs who control them, have their pride 
 broken, and their prestige humbled, let them
 
 SPEECH OF GENERAL LYTLE. 141 
 
 blame themselves. They have sown the wind, 
 let them reap the whirlwind, till the bloody prob 
 lem is finally worked out ; eye to eye, foot to foot, 
 sword to sword, bayonet to bayonet ; if need be, 
 for ten years longer, with iron hearts, and iron 
 fleets, and iron hail, this generation of loyal men 
 will, by God's grace, endure its heavy cross, and 
 until the broad daylight of peace and order and 
 victory shall come, will stand to arms. 
 
 And then for you, soldiers soldiers, but free 
 men and armed citizens of the Republic it will 
 be for you to remember the Roman saying, Vel 
 pace, vel hello, darum fieri licet " or, as old Milton 
 has paraphrased it, " Peace has her victories, no 
 less renowned than war." It will be for you to 
 look to it that those arbitrary war measures, justi 
 fied by the awful presence of a rebellion, whose 
 like the world never saw before ; justified by the 
 maxim that "the safety of the Republic is the su 
 preme law," die, with the necessities which gave 
 them birth. It will be for you to see that the 
 powers of the Government are restricted to their 
 lawful and appropriate channels ; that each State 
 has its full and perfect rights under the constitu 
 tion, awarded to it ; and, finally, through the in-
 
 142 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 strumentality of the ballot box, it will be for you to 
 put the seal of eternal political damnation on those 
 subtle and designing demagogues, whose disaffec 
 tion and disloyalty to the country have already 
 prolonged the war, and to-day, more than all 
 other agencies, feed the unholy fires of treason, 
 riot and insurrection. Mark the prediction, that, 
 when the war is over, it will be to the men of 
 this human army, more than to any others, that 
 the people of the Southern States will look for a 
 wise, generous, patriotic conservatism. 
 
 They will trust you because of your unflinch 
 ing and unwavering loyalty to your great cause ; 
 they will respect you as one brave man, even 
 though overcome, respects another with whom 
 he has measured swords. The government of 
 Jefferson Davis may flatter the political apostates 
 of the North for military purposes, but I much 
 mistake the character of Southern men, if, while 
 they hug the treason, they do not scorn the trai 
 tor. 
 
 It will be for you, above all others, when this 
 rebellion has spent its strength, to recall to the 
 minds of the people, the admonition :
 
 SPEECH OF GENERAL LYTLE. 143 
 
 " It is well to have a giant's strength, 
 
 But, oh, 't is tyranny to use it like a giant;" 
 
 To heal up the sores and scars, and cover up the 
 bloody foot-prints that war will leave ; to bury 
 in oblivion all animosities against your former 
 foe ; and chivalrous as you are brave, standing on 
 forever stricken fields, memorable in history, side 
 by side with the Virginian, the Mississippian, 
 or Alabambian, to carve on bronze or marble 
 the glowing epitaph that tells us of Southern as 
 well as Northern valor . 
 
 That the day of ultimate triumph for the 
 Union arms, sooner or later, will come, I do not 
 doubt, for I have faith in the courage, the wis 
 dom, and the justice of the people. It may not 
 be for all of us here to-day to listen to the chants 
 that greet the victor, nor to hear the brazen bells 
 ring out the new nuptials of the States. But those 
 who do survive can tell, at least, to the people, 
 how their old comrades, whether in the skirmish 
 or the charge, before the rifle-pit or the redan, 
 died with their harness on, in the great war for 
 Union and Liberty.
 
 144 WILLIAM HAINES LYTLE. 
 
 CO. K. 
 
 [Poem found in a pocket-book taken from General 
 Lytle's pocket when he lay dead on the battlefield of 
 Chickamauga. The authorship is not known.] 
 
 There's a cap in the closet, 
 
 Old, tattered, and blue, 
 Of very slight value, 
 
 It may be, to you ; 
 But a crown, jewel-studded, 
 
 Could not buy it to-day, 
 With its letters of honor, 
 
 Brave "Co. K." 
 
 The head that it sheltered 
 
 Needs shelter no more ! 
 Dead heroes make holy 
 
 The trifles they wore ; 
 So, like chaplet of honor, 
 
 Of laurel and bay, 
 Seems the cap of the soldier, 
 
 Marked "Co. K."
 
 "co. K." 145 
 
 Bright eyes have looked calmly 
 
 Its visor beneath 
 O'er the work of the Reaper, 
 
 Grim Harvester, Death! 
 Let the muster-roll, meager, 
 
 So mournfully say, 
 How foremost in danger 
 
 Went "Co. K." 
 
 Whose footsteps unbroken 
 
 Came up to the town, 
 Where rampart and bastion 
 
 Looked threat'ningly down ! 
 Who, closing up breaches, 
 
 Still kept on their way, 
 Till guns, downward pointed, 
 
 Faced "Co. K?" 
 
 Who faltered, or shivered ? 
 
 Who shunned battle-stroke ? 
 Whose fire was uncertain? 
 
 Whose battle line broke ? 
 Go, ask it of History, 
 
 Years from to-day, 
 And the record shall tell you, 
 
 Not "Co. K."
 
 146 WILLIAM RAINES LYTLE. 
 
 Though my darling is sleeping 
 
 To-day with the dead, 
 And daisies and clover 
 
 Bloom over his head, 
 I smile through my tears 
 
 As I lay it away 
 That battle-worn cap, 
 
 Lettered "Co. K."
 
 LAST MARCHING ORDER. 147 
 
 LAST MARCHING ORDER. 
 
 Below is printed, from the original, one of the last 
 orders received by Brigadier-General Lytle: 
 
 HEAD QUARTERS, 30 Div., 2OTH A. C. 
 
 TRENTON, GEORGIA, Sept. 6, 1863. 
 ORDERS, 
 
 This Division will resume the march this morning in 
 the following order: 
 
 1. 2d Brigade, Col. B. Laiboldt. 
 
 2. 3 d " " L. P. Bradley. 
 
 3. ist " Genl. W. H. Lytle. 
 
 4. Ammunition Train. 
 
 5. Ambulance " 
 
 6. Brigade trains in the order of their Brigades. 
 
 7. Division Supply Train. 
 
 Genl. Lytle will detail one regiment of his command 
 to act as rear guard. 
 
 Col. Bradley will move his Brigade at 12 o'c., to be 
 followed immediately by the Brigade of Genl. Lytle. 
 
 By command of MAJ.-GENL. SHERIDAN. 
 
 GEO. LEE, Captain and A. A. G. 
 To BRIG. -GENL. LYTLE, Command'g ist Brigade. 
 
 LYTLE'S LAST ORDER TO HIS BRIGADE. 
 
 To this memorial collection may appropriately be 
 added the last written words of General Lytle, hastily 
 penciled on the back of the foregoing order, and a. fac 
 simile of which occupies these final pages. The hu 
 mane and beautiful sentences here reproduced, consti 
 tute the last order of a loved and honored commander 
 to his heroic followers. 
 
 The Memorial closes with extracts from the Official 
 Reports of the Battle of Chickamauga.
 
 148 GENERAL LYTLE'S LAST WRITTEN ORDER. 
 
 ftf^^t^-f^i t*~ ++/***** "^ 
 
 Qfi-tiZ^it^jfc^i^ asf* 7h^> 
 
 S ^+- 

 
 GENERAL LYTLE's LAST WRITTEN ORDER. 149
 
 EXTRACTS FROM OFFICIAL REPORTS. 
 
 From Maj.-Gen. W. S. Rosecrans' Report of the Battle 
 of Chickamauga, September 20, 1863. 
 
 "As Brigadier General WM. H. LYTLE fell in lead 
 ing a gallant charge against the foe, advancing on our 
 retreating troops, I may be excused for departing from 
 the strict rule of mentioning only those officers whose 
 good conduct could be properly officially noticed by the 
 general commanding. 
 
 This brave and generous young officer, whose first 
 wounds were received while fighting under my command 
 at Carnifex Ferry, (where he fell desperately wounded 
 at the head of his regiment), was also badly wounded 
 and taken prisoner at the battle of Perryville, where he 
 repelled a desperate onslaught of the enemy. 
 
 " On rejoining the Army of the Cumberland, with his 
 well-earned rank of Brigadier General, he was assigned 
 second in command to General SHERIDAN. When he 
 fell gloriously on the field of Chickamauga, Ohio lost 
 one of her brightest jewels, and the service one of its 
 most patriotic and promising general officers." 
 
 From Maj.-Gen. P. H. Sheridan's Official Report. 
 HEADQUARTERS DEPARTMENT OF CUMBERLAND. 
 "Among the killed early in the engagement of the 2otn 
 was Brigadier General W. H. LYTLE, who was three 
 times wounded but refused to leave the field. In him 
 the country has lost an able general, and the service a 
 gallant soldier. 
 
 From the Report of Colonel Silas Miller, -who, as 
 
 Senior Colonel, succeeded General Lytle in 
 
 the command of his Brigade. 
 
 " While rallying the men to the formation of this line, 
 our gallant, noble and beloved commander fell. 
 
 "Twice or three times wounded previously during this 
 action, he had persistently refused to leave the field, gal 
 lantly doing more than his duty to the men he loved, and 
 who worshiped him, he sacrificed himself without reluct 
 ance. 
 
 " No words or eulogies can add any luster to his 
 deeds of heroic daring, or render more honored or 
 revered among men the name and memory of WILL 
 IAM HAINKS LYTLE."
 
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