UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 HENEY VILLAED 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 VOLUME I
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 HENRY VILLARD 
 
 3]ournali$t ana financier 
 
 1835-1900 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 VOL. I, 1835-1862 
 
 ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO., LTD. 
 
 2 WHITEHALL GARDENS 
 1904
 
 e 
 
 o 
 
 I V-]A\ 
 
 PKEFACE 
 
 THE circumstances of the composition of this Autobiography of 
 the late Henry Villard are set forth in his own words on page 373 
 of Volume II. The events of his youth in his native land before 
 coming to the United States he chose to describe in his mother 
 tongue. This portion of his memoirs his family edited and pub- 
 lished for private distribution two years after his death, under 
 the title, " Heinrich Hilgard-Villard : Jugend-Erinnerungen, 1835- 
 <V 1853" (New York, 1902). A brief abstract of this charming and 
 highly interesting narrative constitutes the Introduction of the 
 present volumes. 
 
 Seven of the eight books written in English are in the first 
 person. Unable, by reason of his rapidly failing health, to finish 
 the memoirs upon the scale of the ante-bellum period, Mr. Villard 
 devoted his last summer to a compendium of the period from 1863 
 to 1900 written in the third person (Book VIII). He originally 
 intended to make a record for his family, with possible publicity 
 that others might profit by the lessons of his life. As he pro- 
 ceeded and arrived at his experiences in the Civil War, he began, 
 as he explains, to feel the ardor of the historian, and, using the 
 Official Records of both sides in the greatest of American con- 
 flicts, he described the various campaigns in which he took part, 
 or was especially interested, with great elaboration and obviously 
 for the public eye. The importance of his observations in the 
 
 "\ field and of his laborious researches determined the inclusion of 
 these studies, notwithstanding their bulk, in the present publica- 
 
 os tion. A detailed exhibition of his relations to the development of 
 the far Northwestern States may some day also find its way into 
 
 LU . 
 
 fe print. 
 
 A work occupying so many years in preparation amid fre- 
 
 36S892
 
 vi PREFACE 
 
 quent and protracted interruptions conceived, moreover, and 
 expressed in two languages together with a change of person 
 must needs be lacking in unity and proportion, but is not, it is 
 believed, correspondingly deficient in interest. Great pains have 
 been taken to control facts, names, and dates ; yet there must be 
 errors and inconsistencies which have been overlooked in so wide 
 and populous a tract of human action. 
 
 No revision of the text herewith published could remove all 
 traces of the author's German origin; nor could such editing 
 have been warranted. The man speaks for himself. His charac- 
 ter shines through his manifold large undertakings, his achieve- 
 ments and disappointments, as also in his love of his native and 
 adopted countries, his championship of every cause which made 
 for political and social uplifting, and his delight in doing good. 
 But his philanthropy is only faintly portrayed by his own hand ; 
 of its full extent he alone was aware. 
 
 THOBWOOD, November, 1901
 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 VOLUME I 
 
 PAGE 
 
 INTRODUCTION (1835-1853) 1 
 
 BOOK I. FIRST EXPERIENCES IN AMERICA 
 CHAPTER L NEW YORK AND WESTWARD Ho (1853-1854).. 11 
 
 CHAPTER II. WITH KINSFOLK IN ILLINOIS (1854-1855) 28 
 
 CHAPTER III. LEGAL EXPERIMENTS (1855-1856) 36 
 
 CHAPTER IV. THROUGH POLITICS TO JOURNALISM (1856- 
 1857) 48 
 
 CHAPTER V. CORRESPONDENT AND SCHOOL-TEACHER 1857- 
 1858) 68 
 
 BOOK II. IN CIVIL-WAR TIME: BULL RUN 
 
 CHAPTER VI. THE LINCOLN-DOUGLAS DEBATES (1858) 89 
 
 CHAPTER VIL THE PIKE'S PEAK GOLD FEVER (1858-1859). 98 
 CHAPTER VHL AT CHERRY CREEK (1859) 115 
 
 CHAPTER IX. FROM THE ROCKIES TO THE MIDDLE WEST 
 (1859-1860) 127 
 
 CHAPTER X. WITH LINCOLN AT SPRINGFIELD (1860-1861).. 140 
 CHAPTER XI. AT WASHINGTON IN SUMTER DATS (1861) . . . .153 
 CHAPTER XII. FORMATION OF THE FEDERAL ARMY (1861) ..176 
 CHAPTER XIII. BLACKBURN'S FORD AND BULL RUN (1861).. 183 
 
 BOOK HI. IN CIVIL-WAR TIME: SHILOH 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. KENTUCKY IN THE SUMMER AND FALL OF 
 1861 203 
 
 CHAPTER XV. THE OCCUPATION OF NASHVILLE (1862) 218
 
 viii CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 CHAPTER XVI. THE BATTLE OP SHILOH (1862) 235 
 
 CHAPTER XVTL THE SIEGE OP CORINTH (1862) 263 
 
 CHAPTER XVni. BUELL'S RETREAT TO THE OHIO (1862). ...282 
 CHAPTER XIX. THE PERRYVILLE CAMPAIGN (1862) 306 
 
 BOOK IV. IN CIVIL-WAR TIME: FREDERICKSBURG 
 CHAPTER XX. IN WASHINGTON ONCE MORE (1862) 336 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. WITH BURNSIDE BEFORE FREDERICKSBURG 
 ( 1 862) 344 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. THE BATTLE OP FREDERICKSBURG (1862)... 353 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. CARRYING THE NEWS TO WASHINGTON 
 (1862) 385 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 HENRY VILLARD, aged 51 Jfrontispiece 
 
 From a photograph by W. Hoffert, Berlin. 
 
 HENRY VILLARD, aged about 13 to face page 6 
 
 From a daguerreotype. (He stands at the left of the group, which 
 Includes also hla mother, his sister Emma, and his uncle, Robert 
 Hllgard.) 
 
 MAPS 
 
 THE RHEINPPALZ (PALATINATE) to face page 1 
 
 FIRST BATTLE OP BULL RUN to face page 183 
 
 PITTSBURG LANDING AND SHILOH to face page 235 
 
 PERRYVILLE to face page 311 
 
 FBEDERICKSBURO to face page 353
 
 CHRONOLOGY OF HENRY VILLARD 
 
 1835. April 10. Born at Speyer, Rhenish Bavaria. 
 1839. Home in Zweibriicken. 
 1849-50. At school in Phalsbourg, Lorraine. 
 1850-52. At the gymnasium in Speyer. 
 1852-53. Studies at Munich and Wiirzburg. 
 
 1853. August (September ?). Sails from Hamburg for America. 
 October 18. Lands in New York. November 18. Western wan- 
 derings begun. 
 
 1854. Christmas. At Belleville, Illinois. 
 
 1855. At Belleville and Peoria, Illinois. 
 1856-57. Edits Volksblatt&i Racine, Wisconsin. 
 
 1857-58. Teaches a district school at Jonestown, Lebanon County, 
 Pennsylvania. 
 
 1858. Reports Lincoln-Douglas debates in Illinois. 
 
 1859. Visits Denver and Cherry Creek, Colorado. 
 
 1860-61. Reporter for the Associated Press at Springfield, Illinois. 
 
 1861. February. Accompanies Lincoln and Presidential party to 
 New York. Founds news syndicate in Washington, and becomes 
 telegraphic correspondent there of the New York Herald. July 
 21. Witnesses first battle of Bull Run. Sent by the Herald to 
 Kentucky. 
 
 1862. Visits Fort Donelson immediately after its capture by General 
 Grant (February 16). Enters Nashville before General Buell. 
 Reaches Pittsburg Landing at close of first day's fighting, April 6 ; 
 witnesses that of the second day, and the subsequent occupation 
 of Corinth, May 30. Witnesses Perryville campaign and battle, 
 October 8. Becomes Washington war correspondent of the N. Y. 
 Tribune. Witnesses battle of Fredericksburg, December 13, and 
 brings the first tidings to Washington. 
 
 1863. Sent to Port Royal by the Tribune, and witnesses Dupont's en- 
 gagement of the Charleston forts from on board the New Ironsides, 
 April 7. First visit to Boston. Sent to Murfreesboro' by the Trib- 
 une to report Rosecrans's operations. Disabled by fever, and 
 misses the battle of Chickamauga (September 19, 20). 
 
 1864. Organizes news agency in Washington, and joins Grant's army 
 in the Wilderness in May, and brings to Washington the first tid- 
 ings of the battles there. Witnesses explosion of the mine at 
 Petersburg, July 30. To Europe ; reunion with his father. Winter 
 in Munich. 
 
 ix
 
 X CHRONOLOGY 
 
 1865. April 15. Lands in Boston. Becomes Washington corre- 
 spondent of the Chicago Tribune. 
 
 1866. January 3. Marries Fanny Garrison. To Europe in July, as 
 correspondent of th<9 New York Tribune in the Franco-Prussian 
 War. Winter in Munich. 
 
 1867. In March to Paris as correspondent of the Chicago Tribune at 
 the World's Fair. 
 
 1868-70. Home in Boston. Secretary of the American Social Sci- 
 ence Association. 
 
 1870-71. To Germany, with mortgage-bank plan. 
 1871-72. First employment as expert in American railroad affairs. 
 1872-73. Serious illness in Heidelberg. 
 
 1873. Joins committees of bondholders of Oregon & California R. R. 
 Co. and of Kansas Pacific B. R. Co. 
 
 1874. Their delegate to the United States. 
 
 1875. Opens Oregon immigration bureau in New York. 
 
 1876. First visit to Oregon. President of Oregon & California R. R. 
 Co. and of Oregon Steamship Co. A receiver of the Kansas Pacific. 
 
 1877. Desperate illness in San Francisco. 
 
 1878. Dislodged by Jay Gould from Kansas Pacific receivership. 
 
 1879. Victorious over Gould. Buys out creditors of the Oregon 
 Steamship Co. and the Oregon Steam Navigation Co. Conceives 
 the Oregon Railway & Navigation Co. 
 
 1880. Contract for division of traffic with Northern Pacific R. R. Co. 
 Founds Oregon Improvement Co. Buys the two Oregon rail- 
 roads. 
 
 1881. Gains control of the Northern Pacific R. R. by the "blind 
 pool." Elected its president, and founds the Oregon & Transconti- 
 nental Co. Buys the New York Evening Post and Nation. 
 
 1882-83. Extends the main line of Northern Pacific and builds 
 branches. 
 
 1883. Organizes St. Paul & Northern Pacific Co. Builds St. Paul & 
 Manitoba R. R. Procures the writing of a 'History of the North- 
 ern Pacific Railroad.' Leads international excursion to witness 
 completion of the Northern Pacific. Involved in collapse of the 
 road. Resigns presidency of the Oregon & Transcontinental, 
 Oregon Railway & Navigation Co., and Northern Pacific. 
 
 1884-86. To Germany. 
 
 1885. Resigns presidency of the Oregon &*California R. R. 
 
 1886. To New York as representative of the Deutsche Bank. Saves 
 the Oregon & Transcontinental. 
 
 1887-88. Re-enters the Northern Pacific board. 
 
 1889. Founds Edison General Electric Co. Final retirement from 
 Oregon Railway & Navigation Co. Chairman of finance committee 
 of the Northern Pacific. 
 
 1890. Founds the North American Co. to absorb the Oregon & Trans-
 
 CHRONOLOGY xi 
 
 continental. Loses his son Hilgard. To Germany. Interview 
 
 with Chancellor Caprivi. Visit to Bismarck. 
 1891. Last official tour of the Northern Pacific. 
 
 1893. Eetires from the Northern Pacific and North American boards. 
 1893-94. Tour of the Mediterranean and sojourn in Europe. 
 
 1898. To Europe for the last time. 
 
 1899. Last tour over the Northern Pacific. Visit to Alaska. 
 
 1900. Dies November 12.
 
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 INTRODUCTION 
 
 ANCESTEY: EARLY YOUTH IN GERMANY. 1835-1853 
 
 HENRY VILLARD was born on April 10, 1835, in 
 Speyer, Rhenish Bavaria, in the home of his ma- 
 ternal grandparents, which now bears a municipal tablet 
 commemorating the event. His baptismal name was Fer- 
 dinand Heinrich Gustav Hilgard. His branch of the 
 Hilgard family, whose surname occurs widely in South 
 German village nomenclature, was of Nassau stock. 1 His 
 first known ancestor, Johann Hilgard, was a landowner 
 and a member of the Reformed Church. His descendants 
 of the fourth, fifth, and sixth generations filled pastorates 
 in various parts of what is now Rhenish Prussia. One 
 of them, Gerhard Samuel Hilgard, wrote in 1792 'A 
 Defence of the Revealed Christian Religion,' which he 
 dedicated and presented to King Frederick William II. 
 His son, Jacob Hilgard, was tutor to the heir of the 
 Prince of Nassau- Weilburg, and afterwards associate pas- 
 tor at Bacharach on the Rhine, where he married a 
 daughter of the pastor, Theodor Erasmus Engelmann, a 
 
 1 The line, briefly tabulated, is Gerhard Samuel 5 Hilgard (1717- 
 
 as follows : 1810). 
 
 Johann * Hilgard (deceased be- Jacob 6 Hilgard (1752-1813) and 
 
 fore 1626) and Doris Zwenk. Maria Dorothea Engelmann (1760- 
 
 Philipp 2 Hilgard (1603-1634) and 1845) ; married in 1782. 
 Christine Caesar ; married in 1626. Georg Friedrich (Fritz) 7 Hilgard 
 
 Johann Gottfried 3 Hilgard (born (1784-1859) and Lotte Henrich 
 
 in 1628) and Anna Katharina Caps ; (1780-1818) ; married in 1806. 
 married in 1654. Gustav Leonhard 8 Hilgard(1807- 
 
 Johann Heinrich* Hilgard (born 1867) and Lisette Pfeiffer (1811- 
 
 in 1669) and Luise Margarete 1859), parents of " Henry Villard " ; 
 
 Mauel ; married in 1701. married June 11, 1833.
 
 2 HENRY VILLARD 
 
 recluse, but a man of great learning. After Jacob's mar- 
 riage, the Prince of Nassau- Weilburg gave him the pastor- 
 ate of Marnheim, a village on the military road to Mainz. 
 At the time of his occupancy this was considered a very 
 lucrative charge, but the exposed position of Marnheim led 
 to its being plundered freely by both contestants in the 
 wars growing out of the French Revolution. Both Jacob 
 Hilgard and his wife believed in the doctrines of the Revo- 
 lution, and he was so outspoken in favor of them that he 
 was driven by mob violence into exile for four years. 
 
 Henry Villard's grandfather was Jacob's son Friedrich. 
 His education suffered considerably because of the unrest 
 of the times and the consequent impoverishment of the 
 family. An uncle sent him to the gymnasium at Idstein 
 in Nassau, and helped him to become a notary in Nancy. 
 Later he was made burgomaster in Kirchheimbolanden, a 
 village near Marnheim, mayor of Speyer, and incumbent 
 of other important Government offices. A man of very 
 solid character and of unusual beauty of person, he was 
 first married to Charlotte Henrich, the daughter of a 
 rich banker whose descendants still carry on his banking 
 business in Neustadt on the Haardt. 
 
 Their first-born was Gustav Leonhard Hilgard, who 
 in turn became father of Henry Villard. Gustav, the 
 most talented of the five sons born to Friedrich Hilgard 
 by his first marriage, was somewhat hot-blooded and mas- 
 terful, with beautiful light-blue eyes and curly, dark- 
 brown hair. Educated at the gymnasium in Speyer, he 
 afterwards studied at the universities of Munich, Heidel- 
 berg and Wiirzburg, at all of which an inheritance re- 
 ceived from his mother, who died in 1818, enabled him 
 to live handsomely and to lend a helping hand to needy 
 fellow-students. In 1828 he passed a brilliant examina- 
 tion, and went with his brother Theodor to Paris to at- 
 tend law lectures at the College de France. Returning 
 to the Palatinate, he was appointed to a small legal po- 
 sition at Zweibriicken, and later was transferred to Fran-
 
 FRANZ PFEIFFER 3 
 
 kenthal, where he filled a somewhat higher position. Early 
 an admirer of Katharina Antonia Elisabeth (commonly 
 called Lisette) Pfeiffer, he formally asked for her hand 
 in 1830. The marriage was delayed for nearly three and 
 one-half years because of the difference in religion of the 
 pair, Lisette being a Catholic. Finally the consent of the 
 Church was obtained and the home was set up in Fran- 
 kenthal. Lisette, a charming personality with blue eyes, 
 blond hair and delicate features, was the daughter of a 
 veteran Franz Pfeiffer of the wars against France 
 from 1790 until 1801, during which time he fought in the 
 army of the Prince of Conde. For his services, and in 
 recognition of three serious wounds, he was invested in 
 1816 with the order of St. Louis, which ennobled him and 
 entitled him to a pension. When his military career ended, 
 Franz Pfeiffer entered the civil service, becoming in 1817 
 director of the Government salt monopoly in Speyer. He 
 married in 1809 Marie Anna Berchtold. As Henry Vil- 
 lard spent most of his boyhood in Pfeiffer 's house, this 
 genial, extraordinarily handsome, and kind-hearted grand- 
 father played an important part in the boy's life. 
 
 Gustav Hilgard experienced the usual changes of sta- 
 tion which then came frequently to those in the legal 
 employ of the Government. In 1839 he settled in Zwei- 
 briicken, and remained there until 1856, when he was ap- 
 pointed a justice of the Supreme Court of the kingdom 
 of Bavaria at Munich. Zweibriicken was therefore the 
 true scene of Henry Villard's boyhood, although he made 
 many visits sometimes staying a year to his grand- 
 parents in Speyer. The boy early proved himself a 
 natural leader in games and in the broils between the 
 children of the city's aristocracy and those of the working 
 classes. His remarkable imagination early displayed it- 
 self, as did a thirst for knightly romance, for puppet 
 theatres and theatricals. He soon showed, despite his 
 aristocratic tendencies, that he shared the republican in- 
 stincts which manifested themselves throughout the Hil-
 
 4 HENRY VILLARD 
 
 gard family, except in the case of his father. Indeed, a 
 large political family migration had taken place in 1833 
 and 1835 to Belleville, Illinois, a town a few miles from St. 
 Louis, embracing his great-uncle Theodor Erasmus Hilgard, 
 who resigned a judgeship, because he "deemed it a price- 
 less advantage to make my [his] children freemen." 
 
 In 1848 the French Revolution upset the whole of South 
 Germany, and incidentally had a marked influence upon 
 the career of Henry Hilgard, although he was then but 
 thirteen years of age. The expectation of an immediate 
 invasion by the forces of the new French Republic threw 
 the entire town of Zweibriicken, like the rest of Rhenish 
 Bavaria, into a state of feverish excitement. In the gym- 
 nasium, which Henry had entered with difficulty, and pre- 
 maturely, as soon turned out, studies could hardly be 
 thought of, and politics was the sole theme of conversation. 
 The right of public meeting was soon granted by the mon- 
 archy to the people, and the addresses of the Revolution- 
 ary orators, together with the recruiting of a militia force 
 of five hundred men, furnished the youth of the town with 
 endless excitement. The proceedings of the Frankfort 
 Parliament interested Henry so greatly that he finally 
 obtained his father's permission to visit Robert C. Hil- 
 gard, a step-uncle (but little older than himself), then 
 entering mercantile life in Frankfort. He spent a week 
 with this young relative, seeing the sights of the city and 
 listening to the speakers at the sessions of the Parliament. 
 By this time Henry's political sympathies were profoundly 
 democratic, and, with boyish enthusiasm, he returned to 
 his home wearing a "Hecker hat" with a red feather. 
 The rector of the gymnasium was so incensed at this 
 as to give him, on his return, a choice between the hat 
 and expulsion. This incident did not improve Henry's 
 relations with his father, who continued to be loyal to the 
 Government and bitterly hostile to the Revolutionary 
 movement with which his brothers sympathized most 
 keenly. The demoralization of Henry's studies, for which
 
 REVOLUTION OF 1849 5 
 
 he was plainly not ripe, led to parental threats of appren- 
 ticing him to a trade. 
 
 In May, 1849, the Revolution began in earnest with the 
 establishment of a provisional government for Rhenish 
 Bavaria at the town of Kaiserslautern. Since it demanded 
 the adhesion of all officials, Henry's father went into a 
 brief exile. By June the gymnasium was at a standstill, 
 and Henry was free to roam the streets and watch the 
 beginnings of war. Before this occurred, he and his class- 
 mates conspired to omit, in the repetition of the customary 
 daily prayer, the passage about the welfare of "His in- 
 Christ-anointed Majesty, our most gracious Lord and 
 King." As fortune would have it, the city pastor, Dr. 
 Krieger, who was the religious instructor, called upon 
 Henry when the class next assembled. The latter re- 
 peated the prayer without reference to the King. Taken 
 sharply to task, the boy still refused to pray for the sov- 
 ereign, saying that it would be disloyal to the rightful 
 provisional Government. His classmates stood by him. 
 "This," cried the pastor, "is open rebellion and contempt 
 of religion, of his Majesty the King and of myself. I will 
 instruct you no longer." And he flung out of the room, 
 never to return. 
 
 A Prussian army under the command of Prince "Wil- 
 liam of Prussia, afterwards Emperor William of Germany, 
 speedily ended the existence of the new republic. The 
 youngsters of Zweibriicken, Henry among them, had no 
 more thrilling adventure than the spending of a night on 
 a reconnoissance with the militia of the town. This body, 
 much decreased in numbers, later saw brief active ser- 
 vice, in which one of the older students of the gymnasium 
 lost his life. With the restoration of the old order, the 
 gymnasium was reopened. The head of the school, the 
 rector, at once sentenced Henry Hilgard for insubordi- 
 nation and rebellion. The punishment was a refusal to 
 advance him with his class, which meant the loss of 
 a year's studies. This added greatly to his father's dis-
 
 6 HENRY VILLARD 
 
 satisfaction, and led to a renewal of the threat of an 
 apprenticeship. 
 
 As a compromise, Henry succeeded, with the aid of his 
 mother, in obtaining his father's consent to his spending 
 a year at a French semi-military college in Phalsbourg in 
 Lorraine, to which sons of prominent families were fre- 
 quently sent. In order to obtain some knowledge of 
 French he went to Phalsbourg in September, 1849, a 
 month in advance of the opening of the school. Here he 
 was fortunate in obtaining daily tuition from no less a 
 personage than Alexandre Chatrian, already a story- 
 writer, but not yet famous. When the school began, the 
 life was found to be very rigorous, the study hours long, 
 those for recreation few, the food insufficient, and the 
 morale of the boys as a whole poor. Despite the fact that 
 he found only one or two congenial friends, Henry en- 
 joyed the life and profited by it, especially physically, 
 growing a foot in height and changing from a weakling 
 to a handsome, vigorous and shapely lad. A visit to his 
 home at Easter in 1850 impressed his parents with his 
 improvement so favorably that his father decided to send 
 him in the fall to Speyer to his grandmother's (Franz 
 Pfeiffer had died suddenly in 1847, almost in Henry's 
 presence), in order to allow him to complete his schooling 
 at the gymnasium in that city. 
 
 In September, 1850, Henry passed a brilliant examina- 
 tion at Phalsbourg, visited his mother in Switzerland, and 
 was settled in Speyer in his new home, in which he con- 
 tinued to live until his graduation in 1852. As a scholar 
 he took no high rank, but by this time a strong taste for 
 German literature asserted itself, and a desire to write, 
 which became more and more pronounced as time went 
 on. As a boy he was devoted to dancing and horseback 
 riding. He was much in company with his classmates, 
 and, belonging to a forbidden students' society, became 
 involved in several escapades, one of which was punished 
 with a day's arrest and confinement on bread and water.
 
 MUNICH AND WURZBURG 7 
 
 This sentence increased his popularity with those of his 
 own age, and evoked nothing more than a cutting repri- 
 mand from his father. 
 
 A serious difference with his father was brought about 
 by Henry's career at the universities of Munich and 
 Wiirzburg, at which he studied in 1852 and 1853. Letters 
 and art were uppermost in his mind when it came to the 
 choice of a profession, but his father failed to see that, 
 as the Germans put it, "the desire of the heart is the 
 voice of fate," and advocated a technical training. He 
 accompanied his son to Munich and had him matriculated 
 at the Polytechnicum. After two months of hard work 
 Henry found his tasks there positively repugnant. In- 
 stead of advising his father, he then made the mistake of 
 having himself transferred to the University, and devoted 
 himself to lectures by the poet Geibel and by the aesthete 
 and critic Moritz Carriere. The expense of this change of 
 studies, as well as membership in the Franconia, a fash- 
 ionable student corps, soon ran him into debt, while the 
 corps life itself, with all its attractions, such as duelling, 
 balls, and ' ' Kneip- Abende, ' ' cost him many valuable hours 
 that should have been devoted to his university work. 
 When his father discovered, by accident, the change in his 
 son's mode of life and studies, he ordered him home at 
 once. After much cogitation and much warranted anger, 
 he sent his penitent son to the quieter University of Wiirz- 
 burg, and committed him to a study of the law. Here the 
 subject of this sketch lived quietly and worked hard for 
 some months, but again the old desire for literature and 
 aesthetics, for the study of which he could never gain his 
 father's consent, revived. Gradually the law became more 
 and more distasteful, and his situation was made the more 
 difficult by the necessity of paying off his Munich cred- 
 itors, who were so ready to trust him when he was a 
 member of the Franconia. 
 
 In this emergency he bethought himself of well-to-do 
 relatives at Wachenheim on the Haardt, who loaned him
 
 8 HENRY VILLARD 
 
 the sum of several hundred gulden, but informed him 
 that they would not keep the loan a secret from his father. 
 Rather than proceed to Zweibriicken and throw himself 
 upon the clemency of a parent who had never treated him 
 otherwise than sternly, and who had insisted upon forcing 
 his son into impossible grooves, Henry decided upon mi- 
 gration to a foreign country. It was his intention to work 
 hard there and to show his parents and sisters that he 
 could make an honorable career for himself by his own 
 endeavors, and this he later thought could be furthered 
 by a change of name. How well he succeeded in his efforts 
 is set forth in the following chapters from his own hand. 
 After trying to obtain temporary employment in Dresden 
 and Hamburg, and declining an opportunity to become an 
 officer in the Austrian army, he took passage on the bark 
 Nordamerika for New York, sailing from Hamburg. He 
 landed in America on October 18, 1853, after a tedious 
 and stormy voyage, with but a scanty wardrobe and an 
 empty purse, ignorant of the English language, and with- 
 out a friend to turn to in the American metropolis.
 
 MEMOIRS OF HENRY VILLAED 
 
 BOOK ONE 
 FIRST EXPERIENCES IN AMERICA
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 NEW YORK AND WESTWARD Ho. 1853^1 
 
 MY landing upon American soil took place under any- 
 thing but auspicious circumstances. I was utterly 
 destitute of money, had but a limited supply of wearing 
 apparel, and that not suited to the approaching cold sea- 
 son, and I literally did not know a single person in New 
 York or elsewhere in the Eastern States to whom I could 
 apply for help and counsel. To crown all, I could not 
 speak a word of English. 
 
 It was natural that this consciousness of my condition 
 should weigh upon my spirits. I felt, indeed, greatly 
 oppressed, and spent the first day in gloomy thoughts at 
 the Hotel Constanz. A travelling companion who had 
 tried to persuade me to accompany him to California no- 
 ticed my depression, and guessed its cause from what he 
 had drawn out of me on the voyage about my antecedents 
 and plans. He generously offered to lend me twenty dol- 
 lars, which I accepted, of course, with joy. As my weekly 
 board-bill was to be only five dollars, I felt quite relieved 
 from immediate anxiety, and sufficiently at ease in mind 
 to look the future straight in the face. I resolved to seek 
 some sort of employment without delay, but, at the same 
 time, I could not feel at all sure of success, and determined 
 to make an appeal for help to my relatives in the West. 
 At home I had become acquainted with several of them 
 my great-uncle, Theodor Adolf Engelmann, the brother 
 of my step-grandmother, and Johann Scheel, who married 
 
 11
 
 12 HENKY VILLARD [1853 
 
 one of her sisters. But I did not remember their ad- 
 dresses. I knew, however, that another distant relative, 
 Dr. George Engelmann, was a physician in good practice 
 in St. Louis, and so I ventured to address a letter to him, 
 enclosing another for my father's brother Theodor, with 
 a request to forward it. Next I took counsel with the 
 landlord regarding employment, got a number of ad- 
 dresses, including that of the Bavarian consul and the 
 German Emigrant Aid Society, from him and from adver- 
 tisements in the two German daily papers for help in 
 various occupations, and, thus equipped, began my search 
 for something to do by which I could earn my daily bread. 
 
 In the pursuit of my object I saw much of New York. 
 The city had then only about three hundred thousand in- 
 habitants, but, unless my memory deceives me, its leading 
 business streets presented as striking and stunning a pic- 
 ture of intense commercial activity as to-day. The side- 
 walks on Broadway were certainly very crowded with 
 people, and the street proper jammed full of vehicles of 
 every description. But, of course, the city had compara- 
 tively small dimensions. Fourteenth Street was the limit 
 of animated street-life. Beyond it the rows of buildings 
 began to thin out, and above Twenty-third Street things 
 still had an open-country appearance. The Fifth Avenue 
 Hotel was not then built. Between the City Hall and 
 Canal Street there were still whole streets exclusively oc- 
 cupied by private residences. The best and most fre- 
 quented hotels seemed to be located south of Canal Street. 
 I remember very clearly being struck with astonishment 
 at the sight of the lounging habits of their guests, visible 
 through the great windows of the reading- and smoking- 
 rooms on the ground floor. Whole rows of elevated legs 
 were presented to the passers-by on Broadway. The black 
 servants in several of them astonished me also. 
 
 The most renowned hotel was then the Astor House. 
 Several of my fellow-boarders had, like myself, read at 
 home descriptions of its grandeur, and we were all very
 
 1853] ASTOE HOUSE 13 
 
 anxious to see it, as one of the wonders of the age. So 
 we agreed to take a meal there for that purpose, as it was 
 only a few minutes' walk from our own hotel. No one 
 of us knew any English, but that did not deter us, as 
 we supposed that in such an establishment of world-wide 
 fame all the languages of Europe would naturally be 
 spoken. We made our way up-stairs to the office and 
 boldly made our wishes known in our native tongue, but 
 discovered promptly that we were not understood. One 
 of us then tried French, saying: "Nous voulons diner." 
 The last word was understood by the official in charge, who 
 called a boy and motioned to us to follow him, which we 
 did. We were taken into the dining-room, which did not, 
 however, as far as either size or decoration was concerned, 
 much impress those of us who had seen large Continental 
 hotels. After we had taken seats at a table, each of 
 us was handed a bill-of-fare ; but, being English, it was 
 no clearer than Sanskrit to us. We tried both German 
 and French with the waiter, without making the least 
 impression. The head waiter was attracted by our loud 
 efforts to make ourselves understood, and, although 
 equally ignorant of our language, managed to comprehend 
 the situation and, by signs, let us know that we should be 
 taken care of. We were duly served, but, instead of hav- 
 ing one course after another, according to the Continental 
 practice, a medley of dishes was put before us, consisting 
 of several kinds of meat and as many vegetables, all at 
 once, followed by a miscellaneous assortment of pudding, 
 pies, cakes, fruit, nuts, cheese, and other things. We were 
 so taken aback that we did not enjoy anything, but were 
 glad, under circumstances so embarrassing, to finish the 
 novel repast at the earliest possible moment. We with- 
 drew in disgust, paid seventy-five cents each, and made 
 our exit from the great building as hungry as we had 
 entered it. 
 
 Our landlord was Max Weber, an ex-officer of the Baden 
 army, who had emigrated in consequence of his participa-
 
 14 HENRY VILLARD [1853 
 
 tion in the revolutionary outbreak of 1849. He after- 
 wards rose to prominence in the War of the Rebellion. 
 Among his regular boarders were several political exiles. 
 These two circumstances made the "Constanzer Hof" a 
 favorite resort of the German refugees then still numerous 
 in New York. Almost every evening there was a gathering 
 of them in the tap-room, where there were noisy political 
 discussions in true German beer-house style. They dwelt 
 upon the Fatherland as well as the United States, and I 
 listened to them with intense interest. That the talk about 
 Germany was very bitter and angry was not surprising to 
 me, in view of the high tide of reaction that had set in; 
 but it astonished and puzzled me to hear likewise violent 
 denunciations of the United States as a sham land of 
 liberty, of its institutions as republican only in form, of 
 the material attractions for European immigrants as a 
 humbug with other like expressions of grievous disap- 
 pointment. Among the loudest declaimers in this strain 
 was an individual called Professor Boehm, who supported 
 himself as a writer for the local German press, and who 
 spoke with a deep, gruff voice and snappish sort of de- 
 livery. He seemed surcharged with bitterness against 
 the American Republic, and broke out into roaring dia- 
 tribes against it on the slightest provocation. His preju- 
 dices amounted to a kind of monomania, and they were 
 known all over New York. It was considered an amuse- 
 ment to hear him hold forth, and devices were resorted 
 to, such as purposely opposing his views, in order to pro- 
 voke outbursts on his part. This man did not know a 
 single American, hardly ever saw anything of New York 
 beyond the two or three streets through which his daily 
 round took him, had never been outside of the city, and 
 yet railed continually against everything American. This 
 was an extreme case, but the minds of nearly all the refu- 
 gees whom I heard express themselves were affected the 
 same way. I need hardly say that, not knowing any better, 
 I was much discouraged by their unfavorable judgment
 
 1853] HOTEL CONSTANZ 15 
 
 of the country. It acted as a damper to my sanguine ex- 
 pectations of a rapid and highly successful career. 
 
 The northern part of William Street, in which the Ho- 
 tel Constanz was situated, was, in those days, a succession 
 of hotels, boarding-houses, and beer-houses, and hence a 
 centre of attraction for my countrymen. At the upper 
 end of the street stood the Hotel Shakspere, then kept 
 by one Fickler, a fat, jovial Boniface, who had, however, 
 followed at home the more honorable profession of bar- 
 rister and politician. He had taken a leading part in 
 the Baden revolt, as a member of the revolutionary ex- 
 ecutive committee. His hostelry was much larger than 
 ours, and was also a popular rendezvous for South Ger- 
 mans, who crowded it on Sundays to overflowing. But 
 the character of the house was low, and it harbored ad- 
 venturers of both sexes and of all nationalities. Some 
 of the other William Street places represented a still lower 
 grade of entertainment, being nothing less than vulgar 
 concert-halls with suspicious-looking female attendants. 
 Among the inmates of our house, too, some unsavory 
 scandals broke out, and I began to feel decidedly un- 
 comfortable in such surroundings and longed to get away 
 from them. For two weeks I followed eagerly and faith- 
 fully every clew in my hunt for employment, but with- 
 out the least result. The Bavarian consul had an average 
 of twenty applicants for each of the few positions he 
 heard of in the course of a year. I could have had a clerk- 
 ship with mercantile wholesale and retail firms if I had 
 had a commercial training and known English. My in- 
 ability, too, to give references prevented me from getting 
 the unfilled places from employers upon whom my earnest 
 appeals and readiness to do any work made an impression. 
 My disqualifications narrowed the circle of possibilities 
 around me every day. Under the impulse of the rapid 
 decrease of my small fund, I tried to get a place as helper 
 in a drug-store or restaurant, and finally even as a waiter 
 in a beer-hall. But my "greenness" or recent arrival in
 
 16 HENRY VILLARD [1853 
 
 the country, and maybe my perhaps too genteel appear- 
 ance, were against me. I received, indeed, my first lesson 
 in the advantages which immigrants accustomed to manual 
 labor enjoy over all classes in this country. 
 
 While I did not feel at all sure of being made welcome 
 by my relatives, I still had a faint hope of an encouraging 
 reply to my letter. But it had nearly become extinguished 
 when, one evening in the third week of my stay, on enter- 
 ing the hotel in a very discouraged mood, the office-clerk 
 handed me a letter post-marked Belleville, Illinois. It 
 was the expected answer. For some time I did not dare 
 to open it, lest its contents should prove disappointing. It 
 turned out to be a letter from my great-uncle Theodor, 
 couched in cautious language, and telling me, in response 
 to the intimation of my intention to visit Belleville, that 
 my relatives did not desire to see me until they clearly un- 
 derstood the reason why I came to America. As an off- 
 set to this rebuff, I unfolded from the letter a draft for 
 fifty dollars. 
 
 The next day I made up my mind what to do. Having 
 repaid the twenty dollars I had borrowed, I resolved to 
 try and reach the West with the remainder. As it was 
 already the latter part of November, and as I had nothing 
 but an overcoat in the way of winter clothing, I in- 
 vested one-third of the balance in a cheap, but warm suit. 
 Thus equipped, I left New York on November 19, with 
 eighteen dollars in my pocket and all my other possessions 
 in a large hand-bag. I had decided to go via Philadel- 
 phia and Pittsburg to Cincinnati. My reason for choosing 
 this city as my destination was solely the fact, gathered 
 from my guide-book, that it had a large German popula- 
 tion, including a considerable percentage of Bavarians. 
 
 There was no direct railway connection between New 
 York and Philadelphia at that time. I took the principal 
 route of travel, by boat to Perth Amboy and thence by 
 rail to Camden on the Delaware, opposite Philadelphia. 
 The boat and train were crowded with emigrants, among
 
 1853] TO PHILADELPHIA 17 
 
 them many Germans. We reached Camden after dark, 
 and found the ferry-boat literally swarming with emi- 
 grant-runners, who at once beset us with their solici- 
 tations. Knowing the risk one was exposed to in trusting 
 them, I felt called upon to warn the ignorant peasants 
 among my countrymen against them. This made me at 
 once the target for their foul abuse and threats. Nothing 
 daunted, I tried, after landing on the other side, to save 
 a party of South Germans from being carried off by three 
 of the ruffians. They seized the baggage and loaded it 
 without permission on their wagons, so as to compel the 
 owners of it to follow. As the runners were Germans, 
 I boldly denounced them before the crowd and called on 
 them to desist. Thereupon all three suddenly fell upon 
 me, swearing loudly, and, before I could defend myself, 
 I was knocked down and probably should have fared very 
 badly but for the intervention of a German-speaking offi- 
 cial. My assailants, however, got away with their prey. 
 The official kindly showed me the way to the inn where I 
 intended to spend a day before continuing my journey 
 West. 
 
 I wished to stop at this inn for a special reason. I had 
 learned in New York that it was kept by a refugee, for- 
 merly a lawyer in my native town, a classmate of my 
 father's, and a friend of long standing of all our family. 
 He had been a member of the German Parliament, and the 
 head of the provisional government that ruled over Rhe- 
 nish Bavaria for two months in the summer of 1849, and 
 was under sentence of death for that offence. I remem- 
 bered him as a very good-natured and witty fellow, rather 
 too much given to conviviality, but a gentleman withal. 
 I expected to receive a hearty welcome and to have a 
 good time with him. A disagreeable surprise awaited me. 
 I found him entirely changed. He received me in a cold 
 and indifferent manner, showing no astonishment at my 
 appearance before him, as I naturally expected he would. 
 His face wore a stolid expression and disclosed a red-
 
 18 HENRY VILLARD [1853 
 
 dish hue, the sure sign of the habitual toper. I soon satis- 
 fied myself that the man had sunk low in every way, so that 
 I was glad to be turned over to the solitary waiter. The 
 inn was of a third-class character, small and insignificant 
 in all its appointments. Under the circumstances, I was 
 glad to be again under way the next day, having seen 
 as much as my time permitted of the City of Brotherly 
 Love. 
 
 The condition of my purse compelled me to travel again 
 by an emigrant-train, as I had done from New York. The 
 sight that greeted my eyes on entering the cars was any- 
 thing but comforting. The cars were low, narrow, and 
 only half as long as the present ones. The interior, includ- 
 ing the seats, was of plain wood. The passengers consisted 
 of a number of families, more or less numerous and dirty, 
 with children of all ages. Each had brought hand-bag- 
 gage, cooking-utensils and bedding, and was trying to oc- 
 cupy as much room as possible, which led to angry dis- 
 putes among them. Before starting, the cars reeked with 
 tobacco-smoke and bad odors. I went through all the cars 
 in search of the familiar sound of my native tongue, but I 
 listened in vain, and found myself in the embarrassing 
 predicament of not being able to converse with a single one 
 of my travelling companions, who seemed to consist of na- 
 tive Americans and Irish immigrants. 
 
 "We moved slower even than freight trains, out of whose 
 way we had to get time and again, and it took us fully 
 a day and a half to reach Pittsburg. At that time the 
 passage of the Alleghany Mountains was still made, on 
 what is now the main line of the Pennsylvania, by means 
 of stationary engines, placed at intervals in the mountains, 
 from which one car after another was pulled up by means 
 of wire ropes. I think that in this way it took us over 
 twelve hours to cross the range. I had to share a narrow 
 seat with another person, so no comfort was to be had 
 in the daytime and no rest at night. A still greater trial, 
 however, was to be obliged to go almost without food dur-
 
 1853] AT PITTSBURG 19 
 
 ing the long journey. We passed the larger towns on the 
 route during the night, when my inability to speak Eng- 
 lish made me afraid to leave the car, especially as I could 
 not find out the length of the stops. For the same reason, 
 I was afraid to leave the train in search of food in the 
 daytime. Thus I had to depend for sustenance upon the 
 apples and cake that were offered for sale in the cars 
 here and there. Dirty and tired as I was, I greeted our 
 arrival in Pittsburg as a deliverance from much misery. 
 
 But I had to fare still worse. I had bought a through 
 ticket to Cincinnati, entitling me to a second-class pas- 
 sage down the Ohio on a certain steamboat-line from 
 Pittsburg. Not knowing the time of the departure of the 
 boats, I made at once for the landing-place. This I man- 
 aged to find by inquiring my way in stores whose signs 
 indicated the German origin of their owners. There were 
 three boats of the same line loading. I could not find 
 out which would leave first, although I discovered some 
 countrymen among the deck-hands, whom I questioned on 
 the subject. " Whichever will be loaded full first," was 
 the reply. So I felt obliged to spend all day waiting and 
 watching in one of the low German lodging and beer- 
 houses frequented by the deck-hands who crowded the 
 levee. Being no wiser by evening, I thought it best to 
 spend the night there, repulsive as it was. I was given 
 a bed in a room with two others, lay down with my clothes 
 on and slept soundly. In the morning I was told that 
 one of the boats had a sign up that it would leave at noon. 
 After breakfast, I went on board in order to see what 
 accommodations I should have as a second-class passenger. 
 This I soon found out with the aid of a German deck-hand. 
 To my great disgust, I ascertained that my ticket only 
 permitted me to claim a place on the lower deck-quarter 
 occupied by the deck-hands, including a sooty, bare, rough 
 bunk. Made wise by my railroad experience, I laid in 
 a good supply of bread and meat, and betook myself and 
 my bag, with anything but a light heart, to the boat.
 
 20 HENRY VILLARD [1853 
 
 We steamed down the river promptly at the appointed 
 time. It was a beautiful Indian summer day, warm and 
 slightly hazy. The bluffs were still bright with the au- 
 tumn hues of the foliage. The broad, winding river was 
 alive with steam- and other craft. Farm-houses, hamlets 
 and villages were constantly in sight. We stopped at 
 several towns in the course of the afternoon, discharging 
 and receiving passengers and freight. I sat all the after- 
 noon and long after dark on deck near the bow of the 
 boat, beholding and enjoying these varied sights. Finally, 
 I became drowsy and sought the deck-passengers' quar- 
 ters astern. I found not only all the bunks on both sides 
 occupied by two or more sleepers each, but men, women, 
 and children crowded so closely together on the deck that 
 one could hardly help stepping on them. I tried first to 
 sleep in a sitting position, but after a while I likewise 
 stretched out on the floor with my bag for a pillow, and 
 soon forgot my surroundings. The warmth from the 
 steam-boilers kept those comfortable who, like myself, had 
 no other covering than their overcoats. 
 
 I was up again at daybreak, feeling stiff and dirty. I 
 looked about for some washing utensils, but failed to find 
 any. I actually was unable to wash my face and hands 
 during the whole journey, lasting nearly forty-eight hours, 
 owing to the score, more or less, of protracted stops made 
 by the boat. What with my filthy surroundings and the 
 low company,! could not help again feeling much dispirited. 
 Though the weather continued to be fine and the sights 
 along the river even more attractive than the first day, 
 my only thoughts and wishes were for my release from 
 these repulsive experiences. This feeling was intensified 
 by the impossibility of sleeping at all during the second 
 night, owing to the fearful racket made by the landing of 
 piles of freight and filling the empty space with firewood. 
 
 It was nearly noon of the second day when the City of 
 Pittsburg reached the Cincinnati landing. The levee pre- 
 sented an imposing sight. At least twenty-five boats, stern-
 
 1853] AT CINCINNATI 21 
 
 and side-wheelers, were loading and discharging freight, 
 and the bank was crowded with people, vehicles, and goods. 
 Swarms of hotel-runners and omnibuses and carriages were 
 waiting for passengers. Of course, the dirt-begrimed indi- 
 viduals emerging from the deck did not attract the run- 
 ners. I had the address of a hotel kept by a Ehenish Ba- 
 varian whom I had known as a policeman in Zweibriicken, 
 but my appearance seemed so discreditable to me that 
 I was ashamed to go directly there. Moreover, my money 
 was reduced to three dollars, and I had to be satisfied with 
 the cheapest possible quarters. Discovering a number of 
 emigrant boarding-houses on the street along the levee, I 
 selected one kept by an Alsatian, who agreed to furnish 
 me with board and lodging for the even then low price 
 of $2.50 a week. The "Hotel de Strasbourg" consisted 
 of a bar-room in front, on the first floor, and behind it a 
 room large enough to serve for foth cooking and eating pur- 
 poses. The second floor consisted of a loft, divided by thin 
 board partitions into sleeping quarters. I was assigned 
 to one containing three single beds, of which I happily re- 
 mained the sole occupant during my whole stay. Alto- 
 gether, it was the worst-looking tavern I had ever seen, 
 but it at least gave me immediately a chance to clean up, 
 for which I longed, and the food proved to be as good as 
 that I had often had at peasant-houses in the vicinity of 
 Phalsbourg. 
 
 Cincinnati even then laid claim to the title of Queen City 
 of the West, and seemed to me to deserve it. It had already 
 over two hundred thousand inhabitants. It occupied as 
 fine a natural site as could well be found, rising grad- 
 ually from the river to the hills that picturesquely enclosed 
 it like an amphitheatre. It was regularly laid out in streets 
 running parallel with and at right angles to the river. 
 The streets adjoining the Ohio were solidly built up with 
 business edifices, and those farther away with private resi- 
 dences. The Buildings were mostly plain, but the whole 
 presented a substantial and comfortable appearance. The
 
 22 HENRY VILLARD [1853-4 
 
 upper part of the city was separated from the lower by 
 the Miami Canal, nicknamed the "Rhine" from the fact 
 that the quarter to the north of it was almost exclusively 
 occupied by Germans, who even then formed fully one- 
 third of the inhabitants. My first walk about the city 
 naturally was in that direction. 
 
 I had no difficulty in finding the inn kept by the ex- 
 policeman. He welcomed me with real heartiness, as he 
 had served under my father and remembered our whole 
 family well. He at once invited me to take up my abode 
 with him, but, not feeling sure whether he meant to offer 
 me hospitality or to wish to have me as a paying guest, 
 I was afraid to accept. He told me of several Rhenish 
 Bavarians whom I knew by name and who knew my 
 family, and who were in the habit of enjoying a bottle 
 of beer or wine regularly at his house. This was joyful 
 news to me, for I felt sure of finding a suitable position 
 with his and their help. I agreed to call again in 
 the evening, in order to be introduced to my Landsleute. 
 I continued my exploration of the city all day, and re- 
 ceived such favorable impressions of it that I ardently 
 wished matters would shape themselves so that I could 
 remain there. 
 
 As a matter of fact, I stayed only a few days in Cin- 
 cinnati, as I soon found that my entire ignorance of Eng- 
 lish and lack of a specific calling made the difficulty of find- 
 ing employment among the German-Americans in that 
 city very great. In my subsequent wanderings I was 
 obliged to accept whatever work offered, whether light 
 or hard, including manual labor; and altogether had a 
 very trying experience during the winter following, as 
 also during the greater part of 1854. I returned to the 
 Queen City in March of that year, and for several months 
 represented a firm of publishers as canvasser among the 
 German-Americans. I then drifted from Ohio into In- 
 diana, where I had my first experiences as a railroad man 
 as part of the crew of a wood-train on the Indianapo-
 
 1854] AT CHICAGO 23 
 
 lis & Madison Railroad. Every day this train went out 
 into the country for twenty miles or so, loaded up with 
 wood to be used as locomotive fuel, and then ran back 
 to Indianapolis and unloaded in a woodshed. The work 
 was light, the hours were easy, and the pay good, so 
 that I enjoyed the experience (little dreaming what an 
 important part railroads would play in my career) until 
 prostrated by a serious attack of intermittent fever, with 
 which I had already made acquaintance. This confined 
 me to my bed for so long a period that my place on the 
 wood-train was filled before I was able to return to work. 
 After obtaining light employment in Indianapolis until 
 I had fully recovered, I set out for Chicago, and arrived 
 there at the end of October, 1854, a year after my ar- 
 rival in the United States. 
 
 Leaving my trunk at the station, I walked all over the 
 city. Chicago had then a population not exceeding thirty 
 thousand people, though the inhabitants claimed that it 
 was more. Then, as now, the best improved part was 
 south of the Chicago River, while on the north side there 
 were only a few short streets, and still fewer on the west 
 side. Five-sixths of the buildings were cheap wooden 
 structures. Hardly any of the streets were paved, and 
 most of the sidewalks were of wood. Still, there was an 
 air of stir and push about the town that indicated great 
 vitality, and promised a rapid growth in the future. I 
 felt sure that I had come to the right place. 
 
 In passing along State Street, even then one of the most 
 important thoroughfares, I noticed under the sign of a 
 boarding- and lodging-house the name Bernhard Norkin, 
 that borne by the elder brother of a playmate of mine in 
 Speyer. Out of curiosity, I entered and inquired for the 
 landlord, and saw, when he appeared, that I was correct 
 in my surmise. As he had left Speyer many years before, 
 he did not recognize me, Hut welcomed me very heartily, 
 and invited me, on being told that I was a new-comer, to 
 stop at his hotel. I of course gladly agreed to do so,
 
 24 HENRY VILLARD [1854 
 
 and my trunk was sent for. He introduced me to his 
 wife, a buxom, bright German woman. We had a very 
 well-cooked German dinner together, and I congratulated 
 myself on such an auspicious beginning in Chicago. But 
 this feeling was considerably dampened when I discovered 
 that, after all, I had only got into an ordinary emigrant 
 boarding-house. The keeper of it employed a wagon and 
 two runners, and, by means fair or foul, obtained all his 
 patronage from the emigrant-trains arriving twice daily 
 from the East. I subsequently saw for myself that the 
 runners were not any more truthful or less urgent in their 
 demands than their colleagues in New York. There was 
 but one dining-room, in one corner of which the baggage 
 of the guests was piled up, and a sleeping-hall directly 
 above it, divided into two parts by a thin partition, for 
 men and for women. Each compartment had eight beds, in 
 one of which I had to sleep. Emigrants in those days 
 were no more attractive in respect to cleanliness and 
 otherwise than to-day; hence I was not very happy in 
 my surroundings. But, as the host and hostess were 
 really anxious to do all they could for me, and as I ex- 
 pected the former, who had been in Chicago for some 
 years, to be very helpful to me in getting employment, 
 I concluded to stay in spite of all drawbacks. 
 
 Norkin knew a number of Pfalzer, some of whom held 
 influential positions. One of them was one of the pub- 
 lishers, and another one of the editors, of the Illinois 
 Staats-Zeitung, at that time and to-day the leading Ger- 
 man paper in the city. Another was a successful physi- 
 cian, and still another a wine-merchant. I applied to them 
 all for advice and assistance in finding a suitable occu- 
 pation, but, though they freely gave me counsel, they 
 proved to be of no real help. I also inserted an adver- 
 tisement in the Zeitung, but received no responses to it. 
 I called daily at various intelligence offices, and, moreover, 
 made personal inquiries for work in all sorts of establish- 
 ments. But the only openings I found were for waiters
 
 1854] AT CHICAGO 25 
 
 in lager-beer saloons, which already abounded in the city, 
 and for drivers of delivery-wagons. My host having as- 
 sured me that he would board me all winter, if necessary, 
 I did not avail myself of these unsatisfactory chances, 
 although one week after another passed by in involuntary 
 idleness. One morning, when I came down from my sleep- 
 ing-room, the landlord sang out to me: "Here is some im- 
 portant news for you," and pointed to an advertisement 
 in the Zeitung. It was an urgent request to me to send 
 my address immediately to the signer of it, in Belleville, 
 Illinois. The advertiser was Robert Hilgard, my step- 
 uncle and schoolmate. Of course, I felt a great shock of 
 surprise, for it looked as if Robert had come to America 
 on purpose to find me. Norkin had not been told that I 
 was not in communication with my family. He questioned 
 me, and I had to admit the fact, whereupon he urged 
 me to answer the summons immediately. I told him that 
 I had resolved not to make known my whereabouts to my 
 family till I could tell them that I was able to support 
 myself independently; but he insisted that it was my duty 
 to write to Belleville without delay, and he added smil- 
 ingly that if I did not do so he would. I replied that 
 I would think the matter over for a day or two. Finally, 
 I sat down and wrote Robert briefly where I was, and said 
 that my lot had not been an enjoyable one since landing 
 on this side of the water. I said further that, although 
 I had not been very successful, I was confident of getting 
 along, and that he need not have any anxiety on that 
 account. I begged him also to explain how he happened 
 to be in America, and to give me the fullest possible news 
 of my family. 
 
 A week elapsed without bringing an answer to my letter, 
 until, on returning to my lodging-house on the eighth day, 
 a figure rose from a chair, and I recognized at once the 
 tall form and the well-cut, handsome face of Robert him- 
 self. He greeted me very cordially, and, without wait- 
 ing for any questions from me, told me all I wanted to
 
 26 HENRY VILLARD [1854 
 
 know. He had been away from Belleville for a couple 
 of days when my letter reached there. After reading it, 
 he hesitated whether to write a reply or to make it in 
 person, and advised first with my uncle and other relatives 
 about it; the former authorizing him to offer me a home 
 in his family. He decided finally to come, as he was 
 afraid I might hesitate to accept. His strongest motive, 
 however, was the solemn promise he had given to my 
 mother, who had been a second mother to him, to make 
 every effort to discover my whereabouts and to aid me 
 in my upward struggles. This promise was not, indeed, 
 his main motive in coming to this country a few months 
 before. He had been wishing to go to America ever since 
 he had finished his four years' apprenticeship at Frank- 
 fort, believing that his prospects in life would be much 
 better over here. He had visited my parents shortly be- 
 fore leaving Germany, and thus could give the latest news 
 of them and of my sisters. It was such as to move me 
 inexpressibly, and I promised to write home at the earli- 
 est possible moment, and open communication with my 
 loved ones after the long interval of more than a year. 
 
 Robert then brought up the subject of my immediate 
 future. He urged me to go at once with him to Belle- 
 ville, assuring me that our relatives were ready to extend 
 a kindly welcome to me. At first I could not look upon 
 his proposal in the same light that he did. At last he 
 appealed to me in the name of my mother, who certainly 
 would not be relieved of her anxieties about me if I 
 continued to lead the precarious life I had led for a year, 
 instead of being under the care and guidance of my rela- 
 tives. This argument prevailed with me, and we agreed 
 to start together for St. Louis on the following evening. 
 The next day I showed Robert the city. In the evening 
 I took leave of my host and hostess, to whom I expressed 
 my sincere gratitude. We travelled all night, and reached 
 St. Louis the following noon. 
 
 We went directly to the house of a maternal aunt of
 
 1854] AT ST. LOUIS 27 
 
 Robert's, Mrs. Caroline Decker, one of the daughters of 
 my great-great-uncle Friedrich Engelmann, a man already 
 of advanced age when he emigrated with his large family 
 from Ehenish Bavaria. She had married a German- Amer- 
 ican lawyer in St. Louis, who died, after a few years of hap- 
 piness, and left her without means, but with a son and 
 daughter to support and bring up. She resolutely started 
 a boarding-house for the better class of Germans, and she 
 was keeping it at the time. She made me feel at home at 
 once. We remained there three days, seeing as much as we 
 could of St. Louis and of some other relatives there. We 
 then went by rail to Belleville, in St. Clair County, Illi- 
 nois, only fourteen miles distant, stopping over night at the 
 house of John Scheel, whom I knew, as he had visited us 
 in Zweibriicken some years before. He had emigrated with 
 Friedrich Engelmann, having been his assistant in the 
 forestry service, and had married over here his youngest 
 daughter Betty. He was a very active, shrewd man in a 
 business way, and had succeeded in accumulating a mod- 
 erate competency. He was very popular, and held at the 
 time the lucrative office of Register of Deeds and Clerk of 
 the Probate Court. He lived in a commodious house, en- 
 livened by three small children. This very kind-hearted 
 couple gave me a most cordial welcome, and invited me 
 to remain with them as long as I liked. But Robert and 
 I thought it best to drive to my uncle Theodor Hilgard's 
 farm the next morning.
 
 CHAPTER H 
 
 WITH KINSFOLK IN ILLINOIS. 1854-5 
 
 THE farm was situated five miles from Belleville in a 
 rolling prairie region, and consisted of about one 
 hundred acres of well-cultivated land. There was a rather 
 small two-story frame house painted white, and with green 
 shutters, with an extension upon the crown of a hill, in 
 the shade of some lofty trees, and commanding a fine 
 view; also, a large barn and stable combined, and half a 
 dozen other outbuildings used for various purposes. In 
 front of the house was a large vineyard, and behind it 
 a flower- and vegetable-garden. It being winter, the en- 
 semble did not look as attractive as in the greenness of 
 summer, yet was altogether pleasing. 
 
 My uncle Theodor and aunt, whom I had never seen, 
 were awaiting our coming. The former received me ra- 
 ther stiffly, but the face of the latter fairly beamed upon 
 me with kindness. My uncle was the next youngest of my 
 father's brothers, and was then about forty-six years old. 
 He was a thick-set man, rather under middle stature, with 
 a strong, round head covered with curly hair, and a broad 
 face framed by a full beard. Both hair and beard were 
 already tinged with gray. His face had a set, stern expres- 
 sion in repose, but he had a pleasant smile, which showed 
 that he was really very good-natured. My aunt won my 
 heart at once. She was of good height, and, though al- 
 ready of matronly proportions, still had a graceful figure 
 and movements. The shape of her head was beautiful and 
 her hair still jet-black. Her brilliant, soft black eyes and 
 gentle mouth imparted much light and sweetness to her 
 face (though her features could not be called handsome), 
 
 28
 
 1854] AT BELLEVILLE 29 
 
 and made her very winning. She was, too, just what she 
 seemed to be clever, vivacious, interested in everything, 
 and overflowing with inexhaustible kindness. I felt at- 
 tracted to her as to a second mother, and she treated me 
 as a mother would, for which I have always felt pro- 
 foundly grateful. My uncle was a highly educated man, 
 but was often blunt in his speech and given to ridicule 
 and sarcasm. He was exceedingly well-informed about 
 American as well as European affairs, and was full of 
 progressive and even radical ideas, and not indisposed to 
 talk. It required but little intercourse with him to bring 
 out his absolutely sterling character, which secured him 
 the highest respect of friends and neighbors and the com- 
 munity at large. 
 
 The couple were blessed with eight fine, model children 
 four boys and four girls. The eldest of the boys was 
 named Gustav, after my father; he was a year older than 
 I, and was away studying to be sin engineer. The other 
 boys Carl, Theodor, and Ernst ranging from fourteen 
 to ten, were sweet-tempered, confiding, lusty fellows, who 
 took at once to their newly arrived cousin. The eldest 
 daughter, Anna, was of my age, a handsome, well-formed 
 girl, with the black hair and bewitching eyes of her mother. 
 The second daughter was a fresh-looking blonde of a very 
 quiet disposition, never happier than when she could serve 
 others. The other two daughters were affectionate, bloom- 
 ing little girls of seven and eight, with whom I quickly 
 established the most cordial relations. 
 
 Altogether, I found myself in a family circle again, the 
 equal of which for perfect harmony and mutual affection 
 it would have been hard to find anywhere. I now felt the 
 softening, elevating influences of this sweet home-life, and 
 a sense of inner peace and happiness awoke in me that I 
 had not felt for years. My aunt begged me to do my duty 
 without delay and write to my parents. It was well in- 
 deed that I had delayed doing so till I had drawn in 
 the right inspiration from the domestic picture before
 
 30 HENRY VILLARD [1854 
 
 me. It took me days, however, to compose a letter that 
 satisfied me. When it was done and sent off by mail, I 
 felt the sense of relief that always comes with the final 
 fulfilment of a long-delayed duty. Robert wrote likewise 
 and at length, as I learned only after the lapse of many 
 years; and my uncle and aunt sent letters to my father 
 and mother after I had been a few weeks with them. 
 
 My uncle followed the practice of all successful West- 
 ern farmers in doing every sort of work on his place him- 
 self. He had only one regular hand employed to help him, 
 so that if he had not done so from choice, necessity 
 would have compelled him to take a leading part in the 
 farm routine. Though it was winter, there was enough to 
 occupy him more or less, daily. There was also but one 
 female servant in the house, so that much domestic labor 
 devolved upon my aunt and the two eldest daughters in 
 taking care of the large household. Naturally it became 
 irksome to me to be idle while all the grown members of 
 the family were continually busy. Moreover, without any- 
 thing to do, time came to hang heavily on my hands; so 
 I soon offered my services for any in-door or out-door work, 
 and this offer evidently gave pleasure all round. I helped 
 feed the horses, cattle, and swine. I chopped, sawed, and 
 hauled wood. After snow-falls, I cleared paths all over the 
 place. I assisted in shelling corn, threshing wheat, and even 
 in the annual killing of fat hogs. I performed also a variety 
 of kitchen, dining-room, and yard offices for the ladies. 
 I enjoyed the work, and it was obvious that my willing- 
 ness to do it strengthened the warm feeling of the whole 
 family toward me. I also had a chance to participate 
 several times in so-called log-raisings, a peculiar custom, 
 brought down from the pioneer days, of mutual assistance 
 among neighbors in setting up dwellings, barns, and sta- 
 bles of logs. 
 
 What with these occupations in the daytime, and read- 
 ing, games, and music in the evening my aunt and the 
 eldest daughter were very musical time passed very
 
 1854-5] AT BELLEVILLE 31 
 
 quickly, and Christmas, 1854, was at hand before we knew 
 it. The observance of it was in true German style, with 
 a great tree which the whole family helped to decorate, 
 and there were presents for everybody. What a con- 
 trast my enjoyment of the festival in such a home sphere 
 offered to the loneliness and depression I had experienced 
 during this hallowed season the year before! Until then 
 I had seen none of the relatives but Robert, who stayed 
 at the Engelmann farm about four miles away, and walked 
 over once or twice a week to visit us. On Christmas Day, 
 however, quite a number, old and young, as well as other 
 friends from Belleville, appeared to celebrate the day with 
 the family. The ice was broken for me, and after Christ- 
 mas I began a round of calls with my uncle and aunt that 
 extended all through January, and introduced me to doz- 
 ens of pleasant families in the town and country. 
 
 My first call was at the Engelmann farm, where my 
 great-great-uncle Friedrich had made his home after his 
 arrival in Illinois. It presented a very modest appear- 
 ance, consisting as it did of a small one-and-a-half- 
 story frame building with a few outhouses. The farm 
 extended over the slopes of several hills. The soil was not 
 very good, having been chosen, if I remember rightly, 
 mainly for its adaptability to fruit-growing, and on ac- 
 count of its southern exposure and sheltered position from 
 the north winds. The interior of the dwelling was fur- 
 nished in the simplest possible style, and had but little 
 that could be called comfort. This home was occupied 
 by Friedrich 's wife Betty, who had been left a widow at 
 a ripe old age a few years before, with her daughter Jose- 
 phine and son Adolph. The old lady was a picture of 
 venerableness, was well-preserved for her age, had a clear 
 and active mind, and charming, benignant ways. But 
 she was constantly depressed in spirits by the loss at sea 
 the year before of her son Jacob, who was on his wedding- 
 tour. Adolph I had seen when I visited Zweibriicken six 
 years before. He was a most interesting person then, ow-
 
 32 HENRY VILLARD [1855 
 
 ing to certain romantic events in his career. When only 
 eighteen, in 1846, he had enlisted for the war between the 
 United States and Mexico, was made a lieutenant for gal- 
 lantry, and returned with a severe wound that permanently 
 crippled his left arm and secured him a pension for life. 
 Notwithstanding this, he was carried away by youthful en- 
 thusiasm when the Schleswig-Holstein war broke out in 
 1848, while he was in Germany, and he went through it 
 as a private soldier. He was a fine-looking youth, and had 
 kept his striking personality. 
 
 It was my uncle's habit to drive into Belleville every 
 Saturday morning and remain till evening. He spent the 
 time in shopping, making calls, dining with relatives, and 
 spending a social hour at one of the numerous beer-saloons, 
 where, according to German custom, a number of his ac- 
 quaintances met regularly. After the New Year I always 
 went with him, and thus came to know the several families 
 of relatives besides the Scheels. First among them in 
 social position was Gustav Koerner. Trained as a jurist 
 in Germany, and established as an attorney-at-law in 
 Frankfort-on-the-Main, he was compelled to fly in conse- 
 quence of his participation in the ill-judged political up- 
 rising in that city in 1833. He devoted himself to his pro- 
 fession in this country, and was associated with Theodor 
 Engelmann, the oldest son of the Forstmeister. He had 
 found it hard at first to obtain a satisfactory practice, but 
 in time became very successful and was one of the best- 
 known lawyers in Southern Illinois. From the beginning, 
 he took a lively interest in politics. He affiliated with the 
 Democratic party, which enjoyed a long ascendancy in 
 Illinois. He rendered valuable service as a party manager 
 and effective speaker both in English and in German, as 
 a reward for which and as a representative of the German 
 element he received much political preferment. He was 
 elected to both houses of the Legislature, made a circuit 
 judge, and subsequently a member of the Supreme Court, 
 and, finally, Lieutenant-Governor and ex officio President
 
 1855] AT BELLEVILLE 33 
 
 of the Senate. He was then holding that office. When the 
 proslavery tendencies of his party became so pronounced 
 under Presidents Pierce and Buchanan, he assisted in the 
 formation of the Republican party, and remained one of its 
 leaders till after the Civil War. He was intimately ac- 
 quainted with Abraham Lincoln, who honored him in 1862 
 with the mission to Madrid. He was now about forty-five 
 years old, in his prime in every respect. He was a small, 
 slight man, with a strong head, gray hair, and marked fea- 
 tures, from whose expression the weakness of his eyes de- 
 tracted much. He was somewhat distant on first acquain- 
 tance, and perhaps a little too self-assertive, but, withal, an 
 amiable man and a very fine conversationalist. With my 
 German conception of the dignity of official position, I 
 looked upon him with awe. He was very happily married 
 to one of the Engelmann daughters, Sophie. They had two 
 sons and three daughters, all very bright and interesting. 
 The elder son Theodor, a cadet at West Point, unfortu- 
 nately died there during his second year. The two elder 
 daughters, Marie and Augusta, were almost grown up, and 
 promised to be very attractive. The family lived in a com- 
 fortable brick mansion, where they dispensed much hospi- 
 tality. 
 
 Theodor Engelmann was no doubt the ablest of the 
 Engelmann sons. With a sufficiency of practical sense to 
 get on in life, he combined strongly idealistic tendencies 
 and very warm feelings, which he preserved till the end of 
 his protracted days. Besides Ueing the law-partner of 
 Koerner, he held the office of Clerk of the Circuit Court, 
 which yielded him a considerable emolument in fees. An- 
 other relative was Molly, daughter of Theodor Erasmus 
 Hilgard (then revisiting Germany), who presided over 
 the home which her father had built for himself in West 
 Belleville. She married an American, Sharon Tyndale, 
 of a well-known Philadelphia family, who met with a ter- 
 rible end. In 1871, while Secretary of State of Illinois and 
 living at Springfield, the capital, he set out one night to 
 
 3
 
 34 HENRY VILLARD [1855 
 
 take the midnight train to St. Louis, and was found mur- 
 dered on the street the next morning. No clue was ever ob- 
 tained to the motive or the perpetrator of the deed, though 
 every effort was made and the State offered a reward of ten 
 thousand dollars. Mrs. Tyndale's three sisters, Rosa, Clara, 
 and Theresa, presented the remarkable case of having mar- 
 ried three brothers Tittmann, who, belonging to a distin- 
 guished family in Saxony settled in Dresden and Leipzig, 
 went to America from political choice and necessity. Clara, 
 the younger of the two, was a woman of unusual parts, 
 which had, moreover, been carefully developed, and from 
 an early age she was tireless in her endeavor to store her 
 mind with miscellaneous knowledge. Her tastes were 
 strongly linguistic and literary. She was constituted very 
 differently from her sister Rosa, who was quite as intel- 
 lectual and, at the same time, a picture of sweet woman- 
 hood. She must have been beautiful as a young girl. 
 
 Besides my relatives, there were a great many nice people 
 living in Belleville and its immediate vicinity. The town 
 had but six or seven thousand inhabitants, and had no 
 special external attractions except that it contained an al- 
 most purely German community. I was told that the popu- 
 lation included only a few hundred native Americans. We 
 hardly ever heard any English spoken. The business signs 
 were almost exclusively in German. But this very German 
 character of the place and the adjacent settlements made 
 Belleville peculiarly attractive to people of that nationality, 
 of high as well as of low degree. There was a curious repre- 
 sentation of the former living in and about the place- 
 quite a sprinkling of noblemen and jurists, doctors, aca- 
 demic teachers, and other professional men, together with 
 merchants of the best type. Most of them had come to 
 America either as political refugees or as victims of the 
 fickleness of fortune; but not a few had, like my uncles, 
 emigrated from choice. All sorts of callings were followed 
 by them in town, and quite a number tried to earn their 
 living as farmers. The latter were known among their own
 
 1855] AT BELLEVILLE 35 
 
 countrymen as " Latin peasants." The most prominent 
 among them was Friedrich Hecker, the well-known exile, 
 who also played no mean political part in this country. 
 He lived about ten miles distant from Belleville. I heard 
 a good deal of him, but never chanced to see him in those 
 days. He and one other among the " Latin peasants" were 
 alone successful as farmers. Even my uncle, as it after- 
 ward turned out, failed, notwithstanding the hardest kind 
 of labor, to make both ends meet. 
 
 In the latter part of January, to my own great relief and 
 joy as well as that of the others, letters arrived from my 
 father to my uncle, and from my mother and sisters to me. 
 The former expressed his gratitude very warmly to his 
 brother for receiving me into his family, and indicated his 
 willingness to provide for my support to a moderate ex- 
 tent until I could earn a regular living, offering, of course, 
 to reimburse my uncle for any outlay for necessaries that 
 he had incurred for me. I really had no right to expect 
 anything else from him. My mother and sisters wrote in 
 the most loving and encouraging manner. Their letters 
 were full, too, of a great amount of interesting local news. 
 What with the reopened relations with my dear ones and 
 my pleasant surroundings, I felt once more very content 
 and happy.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 LEGAL EXPERIMENTS. 1855-6 
 
 THOSE happy days could not last forever. On the con- 
 trary, I felt it to be my duty all the time to keep 
 looking about for a suitable position. I consulted with my 
 uncle and my other relatives regularly in regard to my 
 hopes and wishes in that respect, and they were likewise 
 on the lookout. As I could hardly expect anything but 
 ordinary manual employment, I was anxious to find it out- 
 side and away from Belleville, as the social position of my 
 relatives would have made it embarrassing to all. Week 
 after week elapsed, however, without my obtaining any- 
 thing to do. One Saturday, in the latter part of March, 
 1855, my cousin Scheel informed me that an American 
 acquaintance of his, a Mr. Case, who held in Clinton 
 County, Illinois, the same official position that Theodor 
 Engelmann had that is, Circuit Court Clerk and Recorder 
 of Deeds had requested him to find him a clerk to copy 
 deeds in the records. He thought that I might serve the 
 purpose. I had doubts as to my qualifications, inasmuch 
 as, firstly, I had made but little progress in English, 
 owing to my wholly German surroundings, and, secondly, 
 because my handwriting was very bad. But he felt sure 
 that I knew enough to enable me to copy instruments in 
 writing. So we agreed that he should write and inquire 
 about terms. Mr. Case replied that the copying would be 
 paid for at the rate of twenty-five cents a page. I at once 
 made a trial in Theodor Engelmann 's office as to the time 
 it would take me to write a page of one of the ponderous 
 record-books, and found that I could write one in less than 
 an hour. After further deliberation, it was decided that
 
 1855] LEGAL EXPERIMENTS 37 
 
 I should accept the offer. Accordingly, on the morning of 
 March 23, I left Belleville for Carlyle, the county-seat of 
 Clinton County, on the Ohio & Mississippi Railroad, about 
 fifty miles eastward, with a letter of introduction from 
 Cousin Scheel to "Zophar Case, Esq.," in my pocket. I 
 need not say that it was with a very heavy heart I left the 
 haven of rest in which I had found a spiritual restoration, 
 and said good-bye to the dear family to which I had be- 
 come attached almost as to my own. 
 
 The train left me in what was more of a village than a 
 town. In fact, there were not more than three dozen build- 
 ings in it, and they were scattered over a good deal of 
 space. I was taken to the only hotel in the place, a shabby 
 and even dilapidated-looking frame building, whose inte- 
 rior appointments, including furniture and everything else, 
 were in keeping with the exterior. After dinner, I went 
 to the court-house, a good-sized building in the Grecian- 
 temple style at one time in vogue in the United States, 
 to find my employer. His office was locked, and it was 
 only on my third attempt to enter, after three o'clock, 
 that I found him in. He was seated in an arm-chair, 
 with his feet on the edge of a large coal-stove in the mid- 
 dle of the room. He wore a dirty slouch hat, which did 
 not change its place although I removed mine on entering ; 
 likewise, a long, light-blue woollen coat, such as Western 
 farmers are in the habit of wearing, a very dirty shirt 
 without a tie, and vest and trousers of coarse cloth full 
 of grease-spots. The trousers were tucked into the red 
 tops of boots that seemed never to have been blacked. 
 
 Such was the appearance of my master to be. He did 
 not utter a word until he had read my letters of introduc- 
 tion, and then only saying, ' ' Oh, it is you, ' ' he rose, show- 
 ing that he was a powerful six-footer, and added, "I will 
 show you your work." He stepped to the large writing- 
 table, pointed to some books standing upright upon it, and 
 opened a large drawer filled with bundles of paper tied with 
 red tape, which he explained were the documents to be 
 
 SG28Q2
 
 38 HENRY VILLARD [1855 
 
 copied. I asked whether he wished me to begin at once, 
 and he replied, "The sooner, the better," as the records 
 were very much behindhand. I said that I was ready, 
 whereupon he opened the books and explained in which 
 the different classes of instruments were to be copied. He 
 gave me pen and ink and then resumed his seat, leaving 
 me to begin as best I could. I felt a little embarrassed and 
 nervous, but first went through the book of deeds in order 
 to see the method of copying, and, at the end of an hour, 
 mustered up courage enough to begin writing. In the 
 meantime, several persons came into the office to file instru- 
 ments and to have a chat with the clerk. At half-past four, 
 the latter left, telling me that I need not stay later than five 
 o'clock, when I must lock the office and take the key with 
 me. He added that the regular office-hours would be from 
 nine till twelve and from one till five, and that he expected 
 me to sweep the office at least three times a week. The last 
 part of his instructions rather surprised me, as he had not 
 referred to such duties in his correspondence about me. 
 As I had long before got over my former prejudices against 
 that kind of service, and knew that it was a very common 
 thing for professional men in the West to sweep out their 
 own offices, I was perfectly willing to comply. The office cer- 
 tainly needed sweeping badly. It really looked as if neither 
 broom nor duster had been used in it for months. 
 
 In a few days I became perfectly familiar with my work. 
 It called for no exercise of intelligence, but only careful 
 cooperation between hands and eyes. It was, indeed, the 
 merest mechanical drudgery. The only stimulus I felt was 
 that my daily earnings depended on the number of pages 
 I copied. During the first week I succeeded in copying only 
 a single page in an hour, as it was absolutely necessary to 
 avoid mistakes ; corrections not being admissible in records. 
 But I could copy seven pages a day in the second week, and 
 finally even nine in seven hours' work. My master turned 
 out to be an excessively uncouth, but at the same time a 
 very good-natured man, full of that humor that finds vent
 
 1855] LEGAL EXPERIMENTS 39 
 
 in the "West in anecdotes and stories. He was laziness it- 
 self. After I had learned the full routine of the office, 
 which included the reception of instruments for file and 
 record, and of legal papers, and the fees therefor from the 
 attorneys in the suits pending in the Circuit Court, he left 
 everything to me, and he hardly did anything more than 
 talk and joke with the people who called. But he offered 
 me three dollars a week extra for taking charge of every- 
 thing. The first month I managed to earn about forty 
 dollars, and afterwards between fifty-five and sixty-five 
 dollars a month. 
 
 Besides ensuring the means of self-support, my stay in 
 Carlyle had the other great advantage for me that I was 
 compelled to use the English language exclusively. While 
 at my uncle's in Belleville, I hardly ever heard a word of 
 English, for there was not a single American there. Now, 
 with continued practice in speaking and systematic reading 
 in the evening, I made rapid progress. After the lapse of 
 six weeks, I had no difficulty in understanding ordinary 
 conversation and in making myself understood. Having 
 got so far, I made it a point to converse as much as possible, 
 and for that purpose I tried to enter into social relations. 
 There was not much choice in the town in that respect. 
 The population did not exceed two hundred people, and 
 consisted of a few merchants, the county officials, sev- 
 eral doctors, not less than a dozen lawyers, who prac- 
 tised in the county circuit courts, and the usual comple- 
 ment of mechanics, with their respective families. The 
 landlord's handsome daughter and two other young ladies 
 constituted the greatest female attractions of the place. 
 The former was very bright in conversation, and took par- 
 ticular pains to help me along in English, so that my calls 
 on her were as good as lessons for me. The social centre 
 of Carlyle was the house of Judge Sidney Breese, formerly 
 United States Senator, then holding the office of Judge of 
 the Supreme Court of the State. There were no young peo- 
 ple in his family, but I ventured to call on him, as Mr. Koer-
 
 40 HENRY VILLARD [1855 
 
 ner had given me a letter of introduction to him. His man- 
 ner was rather cold and distant, and I could not get very 
 near to him, though I saw him frequently in the court- 
 house. He was a man of great natural ability and was con- 
 sidered an eminent jurist. His figure was short and stout, 
 with a large head, short red hair and round face, a good 
 deal like Mr. Case ; and he wore large gold spectacles. Upon 
 the advent of warm weather he always wore a blue swallow- 
 tail, brass-buttoned dress-coat, yellow nankeen trousers 
 and vest, and a stove-pipe hat, presenting a truly comical 
 appearance. Like nearly every other man, he had the nasty 
 habit of tobacco-chewing. 
 
 I witnessed the monthly sittings of the probate courts 
 and the semi-annual sessions of the Circuit Court, saw 
 some curious illustrations of Western character, and lis- 
 tened for the first time to examples of forensic eloquence. 
 There were among the attending lawyers men of evidently 
 remarkable talent as speakers. I was astonished at the 
 flood of words they managed to pour out. Sometimes the 
 oratorical outbursts seemed to be indulged in on very slight 
 provocation, and hence were rather ludicrous. What struck 
 me particularly was the easy, informal way in which the 
 proceedings were carried on. There was an abandon as 
 regarded manners, too, that could not but shock me, accus- 
 tomed as I was to the dignified ways of German courts. 
 Several times some of the counsel were in a half-tipsy con- 
 dition, and became colloquial in their arguments, as if they 
 believed themselves to be in a bar-room. The term of the 
 Circuit Court was held during a very hot spell in June. 
 The judge presided without his coat and with unbuttoned 
 shirt thrown wide open. He sat thus disarrayed, tipped 
 back in his arm-chair, with his legs on the desk before him. 
 The attorneys naturally followed his example and made 
 themselves as cool as possible. One marked incident has 
 remained fixed in my mind. While one of the most loqua- 
 cious attorneys was making a fiery argument, he was inter- 
 rupted by the judge, who called out to him: "Jim, you
 
 1855] LEGAL EXPERIMENTS 41 
 
 had better keep cool in this hot weather and give me a bite 
 of your tobacco." The pleader stopped, pulled out his 
 plug and carried it to the judge, who took a hasty bite, 
 whereupon the proceedings were resumed. 
 
 At the end of three months, my work became very slack. 
 I had worked up the arrearages in recording, extending 
 over nearly six months, and the new filings were so limited 
 that I had only from three to five pages to copy daily. It 
 became, indeed, more and more apparent from day to day 
 that the regular work could yield me only a bare subsis- 
 tence. I discussed the subject with Mr. Case, and he ad- 
 mitted that this was the fact. The prospect of a necessary 
 change of occupation was thus presented to me. It was de- 
 layed for two months by my acting as temporary substitute 
 for another county official who was compelled to go on a 
 long journey. But, after this respite, about the middle of 
 August, with the consent of my uncle, I returned to the 
 farm. 
 
 I cannot say that I felt much regret when I turned my 
 back on Carlyle. The life there had, after all, been too 
 monotonous and unattractive, and there certainly was not 
 the remotest chance for any sort of career for me in such 
 a community. I left with sixty dollars in my pocket, my 
 savings after I had provided myself with a modest outfit of 
 summer clothing. I had already learned enough of affairs 
 in this country to know that of all the professions the legal 
 played the most important part, publicly and otherwise. 
 This observation, together with my intimacy with members 
 of the legal profession in Carlyle, made me conceive the 
 notion that the best thing I could do would be to become a 
 lawyer myself. The idea soon took deep root, and I com- 
 municated it, shortly after my return, to my uncle Theodor. 
 He at once approved of it, but showed me that my plan 
 could not be carried out without the consent of my father, 
 as he would, of course, have to furnish me with means of 
 support during my study of the law. He kindly offered to 
 write to him in advocacy of my wishes, and it was arranged
 
 42 HENRY VILLARD [1855 
 
 that I should continue to be his guest until a reply to his 
 letter was received. Accordingly I resumed my former 
 ways, helping all I could on the farm, and varying farm 
 life with visits to relatives and friends. 
 
 When my father's answer came, it brought a prompt and 
 favorable acknowledgment of my proposition, and offered to 
 allow me a certain sum annually, for two years, which would 
 enable me to live modestly and devote myself entirely to 
 study. I was overflowing with happiness and enthusiasm be- 
 cause of what I considered an assured and bright future. I 
 saw myself in imagination a successful lawyer and rising 
 politician. The next day we drove to Belleville to consult 
 with Mr. Koerner as to the best course to pursue in prepara- 
 tion for the profession. He at first suggested that I should 
 attend one of the several law schools in this country for 
 a couple of years, and then enter the office of some promi- 
 nent lawyer to learn the practice. When the question of 
 ways and means was considered that is, that my father 
 had agreed to provide for me for but two years it be- 
 came clear that the only way open to me was the one 
 usually followed in the West up to that time, to begin 
 the study of theory and practice combined, under a prac- 
 titioner. The conclusion was not satisfactory to me, but 
 I had to accept it. Mr. Koerner offered to give me a desk 
 in his office, but, with reference to my knowledge of Eng- 
 lish, advised me strongly to try to get a place with a 
 native lawyer. He kindly promised to look about for me 
 among his colleagues in Belleville and St. Louis. A few 
 days later I received a note from him, informing me that 
 he had succeeded in securing my admission into the office 
 of a leading lawyer in Belleville, George Trumbull (a 
 brother of Lyman Trumbull, who afterwards obtained 
 such high distinction as United States Senator from Illi- 
 nois), and said that I might enter at once. The question 
 of a suitable boarding-place in Belleville was solved by 
 Cousin Scheel's kind invitation to me to become an inmate 
 of his spacious home.
 
 1855] LEGAL EXPERIMENTS 43 
 
 Mr. Trumbull was a descendant of the well-known Con- 
 necticut family of that name. In appearance and by nature 
 he was a typical New Englander keen, nervously active, 
 wholly absorbed in his calling, not even caring for politics, 
 and more reticent than genial. He occupied a small one- 
 story brick building on the public square as an office, hav- 
 ing two small front and rear rooms. I was assigned to a 
 desk in the former. At first I had no other duty to perform 
 than to ascertain the wants of callers, if he were out. I 
 was at liberty to devote all the rest of my time to the study 
 of Blackstone, which he placed in my hands and which I 
 attacked vigorously. After a few weeks, the conviction was 
 forced upon me that circumstances worked so much against 
 regularity in that office as to render it very difficult, if not 
 impossible, for me to make much headway in the law. The 
 location was convenient, not only for clients, but for idlers 
 and gossips; Belleville, like most small towns, containing 
 an abundance of them. Altogether too many "dropped in" 
 upon Mr. Trumbull and myself. This annoyance increased 
 steadily as the weather grew cold in the fall and our warm 
 stove became a point of attraction. Then, again, Belle- 
 ville proved more and more to be a poor place for one so 
 eager as I to perfect myself in the use of the English lan- 
 guage. It was as plain as day to me that a mastery of 
 English was the essential condition of success in this coun- 
 try. I had even engaged an American common-school 
 teacher to instruct me in the proper pronunciation of Eng- 
 lish vowels, consonants, syllables, and words, just as be- 
 ginners learn spelling, for I saw that most of my employers 
 had failed to acquire it. I labored diligently with the 
 teacher from one to three hours a day, but the benefit I 
 received from his instruction was neutralized by my great 
 want of practice and lack of opportunity to hear or speak 
 English and so get my ear accustomed to it. 
 
 Thus, by degrees, I made up my mind to talk with my 
 relatives about the advisability of pursuing my studies at 
 another place, away from the disadvantages referred to.
 
 44 HENRY VILLARD [1855 
 
 They consented to the change, after due consideration, and 
 Mr. Koerner again kindly undertook to find what I wanted. 
 About the middle of November it was settled that I should 
 enter the office of a well-known law-firm, Manning & Merri- 
 man, in Peoria, Illinois, and I made my arrangements ac- 
 cordingly. I started for Peoria on November 20, and took, 
 in St. Louis, one of the steamboats which regularly 
 ran up the Illinois River. We made such slow progress, 
 owing to numerous stoppages and obstructions because of 
 low water, that we reached our destination only on the third 
 day. Peoria was then, and I believe is now, a beautiful city, 
 rising amphitheatrically from the west bank of the Illinois 
 River, or rather lake into which the river widens at that 
 point. It had about twenty thousand inhabitants in 1855 
 (over forty thousand now), and was laid out in the usual 
 rectangular way. I stopped over night at a hotel, and next 
 morning presented my letter of introduction to Messrs. 
 Manning & Merriman. I was kindly received, and, after 
 a brief colloquy, assigned to a desk in the office and in- 
 structed as to my duties. At first I was simply to copy 
 legal papers drawn up by the principals. I was to receive 
 no compensation, but had the privilege of "reading" in 
 the office when I was not otherwise occupied. I soon got 
 on very good terms with the two partners, and felt entirely 
 at home in their office. 
 
 By chance I secured board and lodging in the house 
 of the captain of the boat upon which I had arrived. He 
 was absent most of the time, and his wife, who had the care 
 of several small children, was anything but a good house- 
 keeper, so that I did not fare very well, either as regards 
 regularity or quality of meals. The house, too, was very 
 cold, and, as the winter of 1855-6 was unusually severe, 
 I suffered no little discomfort on that account. There was 
 but one other boarder, a mercantile clerk, a few years my 
 senior, who had recommended the place to me, as he was a 
 relative of the only family in the town to which I had let- 
 ters of introduction. He was a good-enough fellow, but
 
 1855-6] LEGAL EXPERIMENTS 45 
 
 with very limited mental resources, and was also a strong 
 churchman. He urged me every Sunday to attend divine 
 service with him, but without success. I then first discov- 
 ered, by a very common experience, that non-church-going 
 is a great social obstacle in this country. From the mo- 
 ment the family to which I presented my letters of intro- 
 duction found out that I was a free-thinker, they dropped 
 me entirely. I made hardly any other acquaintances than 
 those mentioned. My social isolation made me often feel 
 very lonesome, especially when I thought of the pleasant 
 circle in which I had lived during the previous winter. 
 
 Months went by, and the spring approached without my 
 having made much progress in legal lore under the guar- 
 dianship of Messrs. Manning & Merriman. My one fellow- 
 student, David McCullough, had to confess the same fact 
 as to himself. We agreed, too, entirely, as to the causes of 
 our slow advance. We found the same difficulty that had 
 troubled me in Mr. Trumbull 's office : there was not enough 
 privacy for study. Not only clients, but politicians, 
 came to consult with Mr. Manning. It was very enter- 
 taining to listen to him, whether he talked law or politics, 
 but also irresistibly diverting from our studies. With the 
 greatest determination, it was impossible to fix one's mind 
 upon the contents of Blackstone, Chitty, and Story, while 
 so much loud talking and joking was going on about us. 
 Thus, McCullough and I daily looked at each other with de- 
 spair, sighed and then listened perforce, yet often willingly, 
 for the adroit and humorous way in which Mr. Manning 
 answered the questions of the clients as to what he charged 
 for his professional advice, was always very amusing. As 
 day after day passed by with the same discouraging result, 
 the conviction that I could never finish my studies under 
 such circumstances, and that I was, indeed, continually 
 wasting most of my time, gradually forced itself upon me, 
 just as it did in Belleville. McCullough shared this view, 
 and we both arrived at the conclusion that we must make 
 a change.
 
 46 HENRY VILLARD [1855-6 
 
 In the course of the winter, I conceived the idea of writ- 
 ing some letters for publication in the columns of the Zei- 
 tung that appeared daily and weekly in Belleville. I had re- 
 tained all along my old faith in my ability to write well. The 
 editor, Dr. Wenzel, a German-Bohemian and political ref- 
 ugee, a man of uncommon talents and acquirements, seemed 
 to take quite a fancy to me, and I felt sure that he would 
 be glad to publish any of my contributions. So I concocted 
 two letters of a partly descriptive and partly philosophic- 
 sesthetic character at least I considered them such and 
 sent them to him. They were poor attempts, in imitation 
 of Heine and Boerne, rather stilted and labored. Still, 
 they were printed, and Dr. Wenzel complimented me upon 
 them in his letters of acknowledgment. Unfortunately, I 
 had indulged in some rather sarcastic remarks upon the 
 "German philistinism" that was manifested in a great 
 many ways in Belleville. Letters from my relatives soon 
 informed me that my criticisms had stirred up a good deal 
 of ill-feeling against me. My uncle was particularly sharp 
 in his censure of the license of my pen. I certainly had 
 no deliberate intention to offend anybody, but I had, no 
 doubt, been guilty of a pertness that was unbecoming my 
 years, and decidedly improper in view of the circumstances 
 under which I had gone to Belleville, and the cordiality 
 with which I had been received. This untoward production 
 was my first formal attempt at journalism. To be frank 
 about it, while its effect troubled me in no small degree, the 
 attention it attracted rather flattered my vanity. 
 
 This incident helped to mature the resolution that the 
 drawbacks to my law-reading were evolving in me. I rea- 
 soned myself into the assumption that it would be futile to 
 expect that such studies as I should be able to pursue in the 
 office would make a good lawyer of me in a short or a long 
 time. Mr. Koerner was right, after all, in his original 
 advice to me to spend two years at a law school, had my 
 father's allowance permitted it. Would it not be creditable, 
 then, I asked myself, to try and earn enough in addition
 
 1856] LEGAL EXPERIMENTS 47 
 
 to enable me to go to a law school ? Would such a resolute 
 and independent course not also be the best means of 
 dispelling the prejudices that my article had revived 
 against me? Such was my argument, and theoretically I 
 was no doubt right. But the real test would, after all, 
 be the proof of my ability to make the money needed. 
 
 While I was casting about in my mind as to ways and 
 means regarding it, I came upon what seemed to be a 
 proper solution. I read in the daily papers long and glow- 
 ing advertisements of a new work, a 'History [or Encyclo- 
 paedia] of American Literature. ' The value of the work was 
 endorsed strongly by literary men of national reputation. 
 It was to be published in three large volumes for five dol- 
 lars each, and sold by subscription. The advertising firm, 
 well-known Chicago booksellers, invited enterprising young 
 men of good address to enter into communication with them, 
 and offered to assign certain parts of the country exclu- 
 sively to persons considered suitable canvassers, and other- 
 wise to make the most liberal arrangements with them. 
 
 I thought, here is the right thing for me. Why should 
 it be difficult to sell any number of copies of so well recom- 
 mended a book, especially when there would be no competi- 
 tion in the sale of it ? Why should it not be possible, with 
 a strong will and proper push, to dispose of enough copies 
 in a few months to earn enough to go, perhaps, to the Har- 
 vard Law School in the fall? The scheme took complete 
 possession of me. I felt too impatient merely to write to the 
 Chicago firm, and, towards the end of February, 1856, got 
 a week's leave of absence, packed my trunk, and went by 
 train to Chicago.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THBOUGH POLITICS TO JOURNALISM. 1856-7 
 
 ON applying at the store of the booksellers, at that time 
 the leading firm in the trade in the Northwest, I was 
 taken to the partner in charge of the subscription depart- 
 ment. He was a gentleman in speech and manner. He 
 took my measure at once as a youthful enthusiast with a 
 lively imagination and but little judgment. He did not 
 at all urge me on, but spoke very disinterestedly of the 
 uncertainties of the canvassing business; but he failed to 
 sober me. I told him rather proudly that I had been in 
 the business before and knew what special capacities it re- 
 quired, and that I possessed them. He said, finally, that as 
 I insisted upon it, he would be glad to let me make a trial. 
 There would not be much risk in it for me, as I need buy 
 only one copy of the work at a discount. He would assign 
 me to an entirely unexplored and very promising field, the 
 city of Milwaukee. I was to be allowed a commission of 
 thirty-three per cent, on all subscriptions obtained. Being 
 provided with a full equipment of subscription-books and 
 circulars, I lost no time in starting for the scene of my 
 future operations. 
 
 Milwaukee has always been an almost German city. In 
 1856, the preponderance of the German element was even 
 greater than at present ; in fact, its Americanization, which 
 has in the meantime progressed very rapidly, had then 
 hardly begun. It was known among German- Americans as 
 " Deutsch-Athen, " and, comparatively speaking, deserved 
 the name. There was a large number of educated and ac- 
 complished men among my countrymen, and in them the 
 love of music and histrionic art was very marked. Under
 
 1856] POLITICS AND JOURNALISM 49 
 
 the leadership of Hans Balatka, who still wields the baton 
 in Chicago, good orchestral and vocal music was more liber- 
 ally provided for than in any other city in the West. There 
 was also a very good German theatre. Another attraction 
 was the Hotel Weltstein, the best German inn in the United 
 States. It was named after the proprietor, who had be- 
 longed to a learned profession in the fatherland, and was 
 a most intelligent, well-informed, and entertaining host, 
 though too fond of a glass of good wine. He was killed 
 twenty-five years afterwards by a fall from a window. He 
 kept his house very neat and clean, furnished an excellent 
 table, and his charges were reasonable. 
 
 I obtained quarters there and quickly became acquainted 
 with a number of the leading Germans, who were either regu- 
 lar guests or who had the habit of enjoying a social glass 
 there. I felt at first encouraged by the fact that my work 
 would be mostly among my own countrymen. But I soon 
 found out that it was, on the contrary, a disadvantage, for 
 most of those I approached knew nothing of American litera- 
 ture and did not care much for it. They had not been in the 
 country long enough for that, and, moreover, their purely 
 German surroundings naturally kept their interest in 
 American affairs at a low point. I was made to feel, before 
 long, that they had not become sufficiently emancipated 
 from their feelings of caste not to look down upon me, 
 more or less, as a book-peddler. I strove very hard to 
 obtain subscribers, and regularly set out every morning 
 and devoted all the day to going about from store to store 
 and office to office. I have a lively recollection of a very 
 heavy snow-storm that raged for several days, and was fol- 
 lowed by a bitter cold spell which made canvassing very 
 irksome physically. By degrees, the meagre fruits of my 
 efforts caused my sanguine hopes to vanish, and made me 
 uneasy as to the final outcome. At the end of three weeks, 
 I had sold only thirty-five copies in all, twenty-seven to 
 Americans and eight to Germans. I believe that I am cor- 
 rect in saying that only one out of every twelve attempts
 
 50 HENRY VILLAED [1856 
 
 to sell was successful. I need not mention that that meant 
 all sorts of experiences for me, mostly of a disagreeable 
 character. I had, as a rule, to drink continually of the cup 
 of humiliation. I had the satisfaction of having tried my 
 best, and enjoyed, upon the whole, a good time, socially. 
 Of course, this did not suffice, as I had failed in my real 
 object, which was to make money. The net pecuniary result 
 was that I spent, all in all, five more dollars than I re- 
 ceived during the three weeks, though I really had exhausted 
 the field from which I expected so much. 
 
 I returned to Chicago much disheartened, and at a loss 
 what to do. I ought to have said ere this that my con- 
 fidence in the success of the venture had been so great that, 
 before starting for Milwaukee, I had written to Messrs. 
 Manning & Merriman that I had decided to give up the law 
 temporarily, in order to engage in a most promising busi- 
 ness that had unexpectedly come in my way. 
 
 I was fortunate enough to find what promised to be a 
 suitable place in the office of a firm of real-estate agents, 
 within a few days, by answering a "want" advertisement. 
 The firm name was Staples & Sims, and they had a fine 
 office at the corner of Dearborn and Clark Streets, fronting 
 on Court-House Square. Staples was a retired merchant 
 and capitalist, Sims a Scotch doctor who had not been able 
 to find a satisfactory practice. It was a queer combination 
 and did not last very long, as it turned out. The firm tried 
 to do a commission business that is, sell other people's 
 real estate on commission. My special function was to 
 attract German customers, and, accordingly, my name ap- 
 peared under that of the firm, as salesman, in the advertise- 
 ments in the German papers. My salary was fifty dollars 
 a month and a small interest in the commission business se- 
 cured by me. There was also a French clerk, as a bait to 
 French buyers and sellers, who besides acted as draughts- 
 man. I was very much set up when I secured the place, 
 and in this hopeful frame of mind I completed my twenty- 
 first year on April 10, 1856.
 
 1856] POLITICS AND JOURNALISM 51 
 
 It was at this time that I received my first lesson in prac- 
 tical politics, so to speak, in this country. I had long before 
 become a regular reader of newspapers, and fully under- 
 stood the political questions of the day. The deliberate at- 
 tempts of the Democrats in the South, aided by the bulk 
 of their Northern sympathizers, to secure an extension of 
 the territory open to slavery, in connection with the organi- 
 zation of Kansas as a Territory, was the all-absorbing and 
 all-exciting topic. The formation of a new party out of 
 the elements opposed to the admission of slavery into Kan- 
 sas and Nebraska had already begun. Free soil was fast 
 becoming a leading issue, not only in national and State, 
 but even in local elections. It was also made the dividing 
 line in the Chicago municipal election that spring. Of 
 course, I had no right to vote, but that did not prevent me 
 from enlisting as a violent partisan on the anti-Democratic 
 side. The contest was fought directly over slavery. The 
 Democratic nominee for Mayor was Thomas Dyer, and 
 the leader of the opposition Frank C. Sherman. The 
 canvass was made by both sides in the usual way, through 
 public meetings, processions, and a most violent news- 
 paper war. I engaged in it with heart and soul. Every 
 evening I attended a meeting, used my voice as loudly 
 as anybody in cheering and shouting, and joined in a 
 torch-light procession. On election day, I acted as ticket- 
 distributor, and had then my first sight of violent scenes 
 and rioting at the polls. The ' ' right ' ' and ' ' wrong ' ' seemed 
 to be so clearly defined that I could not understand how any 
 intelligent mind could be at all in doubt. That the igno- 
 rant, priest-ridden Irish should support the Democratic 
 candidates was comprehensible, but it aroused my disgust 
 and indignation that there were Germans on the Demo- 
 cratic ticket, a German newspaper and prominent Germans 
 who actually supported it. I looked upon them as con- 
 temptible apostates. I was confident, too, that the unholy 
 combination would be overwhelmingly defeated. My un- 
 utterable humiliation and grief may be imagined, therefore,
 
 52 HENRY VILLARD [185G 
 
 when the Democrats obtained a decisive victory. Influ- 
 enced by the predictions of the dire, irremediable evils that 
 would befall the country if the Democrats carried the day, 
 I felt wofully depressed in spirit. It seemed to me almost 
 as if the world would come to an end. It took me weeks 
 to forget this grievous disappointment. A certain compen- 
 sation for it lay in the extensive acquaintance which I se- 
 cured through my political debut. 
 
 My connection with Messrs. Staples & Sims continued 
 only till the end of May. They were new to the business, 
 having embarked in it only a few 'months before they en- 
 gaged me, and they failed to secure the expected custom. 
 They had also entertained extravagant expectations, which 
 remained unfulfilled, of obtaining German customers 
 through me. At the time mentioned, they proposed to 
 change the terms of my engagement so that I should not be 
 paid a salary, but only be allowed commissions on business 
 secured by me. As I had so far not derived more than 
 twenty-five dollars in this way, I could not possibly accept, 
 and therefore left them. 
 
 The loss of my place did not at all trouble me, for I had 
 conceived and was full of a scheme from the realization of 
 which I expected much honor and great profit. It will be 
 remembered that, at that time, both the proslavery and 
 antislavery parties respectively were engaged in promoting 
 with all their might emigration into the disputed Territory 
 of Kansas. In the North as well as in the South, from the 
 New England States to the Mississippi, a lively agitation 
 was going on for the formation of "Kansas emigration 
 societies." Quite a number of such had already been 
 formed and were sending settlers into Kansas. The news- 
 papers announced almost daily the arrival of more or less 
 numerous parties on their way West. My project was no- 
 thing less than the forming of a society among the young 
 Germans throughout the Northwest to secure a large tract 
 of land in Kansas and settle the members upon it. The 
 colony was to be, like the other Northern settlements, a
 
 1856] POLITICS AND JOURNALISM 53 
 
 vanguard of liberty, and to fight for free soil, if necessary. 1 
 Of course, I aspired to be the head of the organization. I 
 wrote out a regular plan for it, and, as soon as I was free 
 from office duties, I proceeded to push it. I had no difficulty 
 in interesting in it quite a number of young men, "Tur- 
 ners" and members of political clubs. There was enough 
 enthusiasm among us, but no capital. No one of us could 
 do more than pay a moderate weekly contribution into the 
 treasury. At my suggestion, it was resolved to try and in- 
 terest local capitalists in our undertaking, and the task de- 
 volved upon me. I called upon a number of well-known 
 and wealthy antislavery men, and obtained a dozen sub- 
 scriptions ranging from fifty to a hundred dollars. Of 
 course, this was not sufficient capital. It then occurred to 
 me that we could far more readily obtain this in the large 
 Eastern cities, which accordingly I persuaded my associ- 
 ates to authorize me to visit for the purpose of soliciting 
 further subscriptions. I made them also instruct me to go 
 to Washington, with a view to getting a donation of land 
 for our purposes from Congress or the Government. I need 
 not say that this feature of the venturesome enterprise was 
 attributable to the fact that I had not the remotest idea 
 of the insuperable difficulties of obtaining any sort of 
 bounty from the Federal authorities. 
 
 I went direct from Chicago via Baltimore to the national 
 capital. I had obtained letters of introduction from local 
 political leaders to United States Senators and several mem- 
 bers of the House from Illinois. The letters did not en- 
 dorse my scheme, but said that I would explain what I 
 wanted, simply vouching for my reliability. I devoted one 
 day to sight-seeing before presenting them. Aside from 
 the stately public buildings, Washington presented, thirty 
 years ago, the appearance of a shabby, lifeless Southern 
 town. The former dwarfed the masses of mean buildings 
 
 1 He "came very near joining one of the companies of Sharp's rifle- 
 men that were being formed all over the North in order to save that 
 Territory to freedom."
 
 54 HENEY VILLARD [1856 
 
 around them, making them look shabbier and more insig- 
 nificant. Intense July heat had set in, and hardly anybody 
 was to be seen on the immense streets. The large colored 
 population, exhibiting characteristics indicative of slavery, 
 was a negatively interesting feature to me. But my gen- 
 eral impression of the place was very unsatisfactory. 
 
 I had little difficulty in getting at the Illinois Senators, 
 Lyman Trumbull and Stephen A. Douglas, and saw them 
 both. Trumbull was a new member and had not made much 
 of a reputation, while Douglas was at that time the most 
 prominent political character before the American public, 
 owing to his growing opposition to the extreme proslavery 
 demands of his party, so that I considered the chance to 
 see and talk with him quite a feather in my cap. Mr. 
 Trumbull had heard of me as a former student in his bro- 
 ther 's office ; he knew my relatives, and so gave me a kindly 
 reception. I found him very much like his brother, though 
 of more commanding presence. I submitted our printed 
 colonization plan to him. After reading it through, he 
 asked what he was expected to do about it. Thereupon I 
 dwelt as eloquently as I could upon our wishes for either 
 executive or legislative aid from the Government. I saw 
 a smile steal over his face, which produced a feeling of em- 
 barrassment in me ; but I went through with my argument. 
 "Young friend," the Senator answered, "I regret that you 
 have incurred the trouble and expense of coming to Wash- 
 ington, for your mission is absolutely hopeless. What you 
 seek is contrary to law and usage, and especially ill-advised 
 in the face of the pending party struggle, in and out of 
 Congress, over Kansas. ' ' He could but counsel me to aban- 
 don at once all contemplated attempts and to return home. 
 This was a cold-water douche indeed, and I left him very 
 crestfallen. 
 
 Nevertheless, during the day, I resolved to try my luck 
 with Senator Douglas. Going to his hotel the next morn- 
 ing, I found more than a dozen callers ahead of me, and 
 it was fully two hours before I stood before the "Little
 
 1856] POLITICS AND JOURNALISM 55 
 
 Giant, " as he was already dubbed by his party. The phrase 
 was well suited to him. He was very small, not over four 
 and a half feet high, and there was a noticeable dispropor- 
 tion between the long trunk of his body and his short legs. 
 His chest was broad and indicated great strength of lungs. 
 It took but a glance at his face and head to convince one 
 that they belonged to no ordinary man. No beard hid any 
 part of his remarkable, swarthy features. His mouth, nose, 
 and chin were all large and clearly expressive of much 
 boldness and power of will. The broad, high forehead pro- 
 claimed itself the shield of a great brain. The head, 
 covered with an abundance of flowing black hair just begin- 
 ning to show a tinge of gray, impressed one with its mas- 
 siveness and leonine expression. His brows were shaggy, 
 his eyes a brilliant black. He glanced at the letters I 
 handed to him, and asked, with his deep, sonorous voice, 
 that never failed to tell upon popular audiences, what he 
 could do for me. I handed him our prospectus, when he 
 remarked : ' ' Can you tell me its substance ? My time is so 
 limited that I cannot read it." I tried to explain, but I 
 had hardly alluded to our object when he cut me short, 
 saying: "Never mind, I understand it all, but I can do 
 nothing for you. Similar requests are addressed to me 
 almost daily by societies formed in the interest of the South, 
 and, even if legal difficulties were not in the way, it would 
 never do for me to favor either side in the national con- 
 troversy, for political reasons." With this brief and em- 
 phatic reply I had to be satisfied, and took my leave. It 
 seemed useless to continue my efforts among the members 
 of the House to whom I had recommendations, and hence 
 I took the first train for Philadelphia. 
 
 I spent a whole week in the "City of Brotherly Love" 
 in pursuit of my purpose. I had only one letter of intro- 
 duction, to William D. Kelley, who was even then playing 
 a leading part in the formation of the opposition to the 
 proslavery Democracy into a new party, and who after- 
 wards achieved national distinction as a member of Con-
 
 56 HENRY VILLARD [1856 
 
 gress representing the same Philadelphia district for over 
 a generation. He received me very kindly, but did not hold 
 out much encouragement as to local success in my mission. 
 He went so far as to go around with me personally to 
 wealthy political sympathizers. They were nearly all busi- 
 ness men ; among them was Mr. Drexel, the senior member 
 of the great banking-firm of Drexel & Co. Several of them, 
 and especially Mr. Drexel, examined me closely as to the 
 details of my project, and particularly regarding the pre- 
 cise uses which we proposed to make of the capital I was 
 trying to raise. I was much embarrassed by being unable 
 to answer some of their questions. My plan did not cover 
 the point whether the subscribers would get something like 
 shares in the company in return for their money, or whe- 
 ther they were expected simply to make gifts. The truth 
 was, that my business knowledge had not been sufficient to 
 make me qualified to elaborate the scheme on a joint-stock 
 basis, and that what I really wanted was outright donations. 
 I remember very distinctly how confounded I was by Mr. 
 Drexel's remark: "Supposing that your enterprise were 
 really laudable enough to deserve pecuniary help from me 
 and others, why should you and your associates alone have 
 all the benefits reaped from such assistance?" I got out 
 of the quandary as best I could by stating that the sub- 
 scribers who desired it could, of course, have their contribu- 
 tions treated by the company as loans. But, as I was utterly 
 unprepared to give any guarantees or to show that the 
 proper legal forms had been provided for in that respect, 
 I not only failed to obtain subscriptions, but evidently be- 
 came an object of suspicion. 
 
 Depressed and humiliated, I proceeded to New York. I 
 put up at the Prescott House, a well-known and well- 
 kept German hotel, mainly patronized by the Germans of 
 the better classes from all parts of the United States and 
 from the old country. One of the first persons I saw among 
 the guests was "Colonel" Blenker, who had acquired con- 
 siderable notoriety, during the rising in the Palatinate in
 
 1856] POLITICS AND JOURNALISM 57 
 
 1849, as the commander of a so-called "free corps," an 
 independent battalion of young ultra-radicals, who proved, 
 however, more determined in the display of red emblems 
 than on the battle-field. I became acquainted with him 
 at the table d'hote. He was tall, well-built, with fine 
 manners, but his features, so far as they were not covered 
 by his full beard, had the coloring of a confirmed toper. 
 He was a very loud talker, and, when he did not brag of his 
 martial achievements, could not say enough in denunciation 
 of the United States, where his merits hitherto had not been 
 recognized. I soon found out that the cause of his disgust 
 with the country was the fact that he was obliged to eke 
 out a precarious living as a small market-farmer in Rock- 
 land County, New York. He supplied the hotel with vege- 
 tables and fruit, and, strange to say, took his pay mostly in 
 dinners and wine. He subsequently played quite a part 
 on the Northern side during the War of the Rebellion. 
 
 I had a letter to Dr. Hexamer, a German physician of 
 very high professional and social standing, and also a 
 leader of the local German wing of the newly-formed Re- 
 publican party. Had he lived, he would doubtless have had 
 a brilliant career, but he was consumptive and had then but 
 a short time to live, as he told me himself. He was one of 
 the kindest and most delightful men in every way that I 
 ever met, ready at once to help my scheme, with which he 
 was much impressed. He introduced me personally to 
 Friedrich Kapp, which proved the beginning of a lifelong 
 intimacy. Kapp was engaged in the practice of law, so he 
 seemed to be just the man I needed to put my project into 
 legal shape. He was very willing, too, to give me the bene- 
 fit of his advice. He agreed with my Philadelphia critics 
 that I and my associates could not expect the public to place 
 a large sum of money unconditionally in our hands, to be 
 used as we saw fit. He advised me strongly to abandon all 
 efforts to raise money under my original plan, and proposed 
 to me to organize a joint-stock company. However, even 
 a brief discussion of the details of the methods to be fol-
 
 58 HENRY VILLARD [1856 
 
 lowed in acting on his proposition was sufficient, little as 
 I then knew of business affairs, to satisfy me that, in the 
 first place, having no acquaintance, no influence, and no 
 means with which to meet the preliminary expenses, it 
 would be utterly impossible for me to effect such an organ- 
 ization. Secondly, even if I succeeded in forming a com- 
 pany, I could not expect to realize my ambitious dream of 
 controlling it, as I had nothing to contribute towards its 
 capital. 
 
 Thus I was compelled to come to the conclusion that my 
 scheme would have to be dropped. I was not inclined, how- 
 ever, to accept it at once, and my mind only gradually 
 worked up to the recognition of that disagreeable necessity. 
 But my reluctance was due as much to lack of conviction 
 as to the recognition of the awkward position in which the 
 miscarriage of my plans would inevitably place me for 
 had I not collected considerable money in Chicago, which 
 was then spent for travelling expenses? 
 
 Meantime, I enjoyed an interesting political experience. 
 Deep excitement over the memorable Presidential election 
 of that year was felt throughout the country. The nomina- 
 tion of John C. Fremont as the candidate for the White 
 House and the opponent of the further extension of slavery 
 had, more than all others, produced intense enthusiasm, 
 in which I shared. Hexamer and Kapp were very active in 
 organizing German Republican clubs in New York and the 
 adjoining cities. I accompanied them regularly to the 
 meetings held for the purpose. Their propaganda was not 
 as widely successful as they thought it would be, for the 
 mass of our countrymen showed a stubborn adhesion (born 
 of ignorance and their traditional voting for the Demo- 
 cratic ticket) to the Democratic party. I was also a regu- 
 lar frequenter of the Republican headquarters, which were 
 established at Clinton Hall on Broadway, nearly opposite 
 Clinton Place. The chairman of the Republican Central 
 Committee was Simeon Draper, a well-known real-estate 
 dealer. I remember well the admiration I felt every time
 
 1856] POLITICS AND JOURNALISM 59 
 
 I saw his commanding figure and heard his stentorian voice. 
 I was also present when a serenade was given to ' ' John and 
 Jessie" (Colonel Fremont's wife, nee Benton), who occu- 
 pied a house on Clinton Place, and I had the good fortune 
 to shake hands with them both on that occasion. 
 
 I thus loitered in New York for several weeks before 
 returning to Chicago to explain to my associates the reasons 
 for my failure. Most of them were slow to accept my state- 
 ment that I had tried my best but failed, owing to the 
 nature of our scheme, and criticised my staying in the East 
 longer than was necessary. In settling my account, there 
 was strong opposition to allowing me all that I claimed for 
 travelling expenses, in consideration of which I reduced my 
 claim considerably, though I had charged for only part of 
 my stay in New York. The result of it all was that I re- 
 signed and that the "land association" thereupon collapsed. 
 
 This sorry ending reduced me again to pecuniary embar- 
 rassment. I had not felt justified in drawing the monthly 
 allowance from my father, after leaving Peoria. Thus I 
 found myself with less than thirty dollars in my possession. 
 I had intended to return to New York, feeling sure that, 
 with the aid of my new acquaintances, I could find an ac- 
 ceptable position, but this was now out of the question. 
 At this juncture, I learned accidentally of an opening that 
 seemed to me especially attractive. The Republicans of 
 Racine, Wisconsin, on the direct railroad line between Chi- 
 cago and Milwaukee, were anxious to win over to their 
 party the large German vote in their city, and for that 
 purpose planned to buy the Democratic German paper and 
 convert it into a Republican organ. They had asked the 
 editors of the Illinois Staats-Zeitung to recommend a suit- 
 able person to take charge of the concern, and I had heard 
 of the matter through one of them. I was convinced that 
 I was sufficiently familiar with current politics, and that, as 
 for the rest of the needed qualifications, the natural ability 
 which I claimed for myself, together with the energy and 
 enthusiasm that I should bring to the new occupation, would
 
 60 HENRY VILLARD [185G 
 
 enable me to acquire them speedily. I saw a direct road 
 to literary and political distinction before me. Accord- 
 ingly, I lost no time in pursuing that great chance. I per- 
 suaded my informant to give me a letter of introduction 
 to the Republican Executive Committee of Racine, and took 
 the next train for that place. This was about the end of 
 August, 1856. 
 
 Racine was then, and, I am told, still is, a beautiful town. 
 It is situated right on the shore of Lake Michigan, of which 
 it commands a grand view. There was one long, broad 
 street, lined on both sides with business buildings. The 
 residence part consisted of fine shaded avenues intersecting 
 each other at right angles, with numerous attractive homes. 
 The city was the seat of the county authorities, and of a 
 well-frequented college which always enjoyed a good repu- 
 tation among Western educational institutions. It con- 
 tained about twelve thousand inhabitants, one-third of 
 whom were Germans. The county population was also 
 largely German. My first impressions of the place were so 
 favorable as to make me doubly anxious to secure the 
 acceptance of my services. The chairman of the Republi- 
 can Committee, a bright young lawyer, received me with 
 evident pleasure. I felt much relieved on learning from 
 him that I had no competitor. He at once called a meeting 
 of the committee and presented me to them. They asked 
 no questions at all and engaged me on the spot, with ex- 
 pressions of great satisfaction. The committee had a secret 
 option from the publisher of the German paper to buy it 
 at a certain price, and they resolved to proceed at once to 
 raise the necessary money and exercise it. I was to have 
 eighteen dollars a week salary princely pay, as it seemed 
 to me and the sole editorial and business management on 
 behalf of the new owners. The chairman at once set out 
 with me to find a suitable boarding-place, and I obtained a 
 very satisfactory one in a genteel private family, for the 
 low price of five dollars a week for a nice room and all 
 my meals. Thus, literally, in less than twenty-four hours
 
 1856] POLITICS AND JOURNALISM 61 
 
 after leaving Chicago, I was at anchor in what appeared 
 to be a permanent haven of rest and promise. A feeling of 
 security and hopefulness came over me which I had not expe- 
 rienced to the same degree since I landed on American soil. 
 As it took the committee several days to close the purchase, 
 I had sufficient leisure to see the town and vicinity thor- 
 oughly and to make acquaintances. I was charmed with all 
 I saw and heard. 
 
 This happiness was somewhat dimmed when the com- 
 mittee had concluded their bargain and I took possession 
 of the weekly Volksblatt printing-office for them and ascer- 
 tained the exact condition of the paper. The man who had 
 sold it was a printer by trade, and had, with one assistant, 
 edited and printed the paper. The supply of type was lim- 
 ited and nearly worn out. There was only an old-style hand- 
 press, on which six hundred copies could be printed in a 
 working-day of twelve hours. The appearance of the paper 
 was indeed wretched, and its contents no better. It had 
 been edited mainly with the aid of scissors, but the selec- 
 tions plainly indicated absence of both taste and judgment. 
 There was very little editorial matter, and what there was 
 consisted of commonplace stuff expressed in ungrammatical 
 language. Indeed, the author of it, who was not at all an 
 educated man, confessed that he never had attempted to 
 write out anything, but that it was his regular practice 
 to put such thoughts as he had directly into type. Under 
 the circumstances, it was not to be wondered at that the 
 subscription-list always remained small. There were nomi- 
 nally about three hundred and eighty names on the books, 
 but a close examination proved that many of the rural sub- 
 scribers had either not paid at all for years, or paid in 
 farming produce butter, eggs, chickens, potatoes, corn, 
 and the like. Further inquiries also showed that the sub- 
 scribers were almost entirely made up of shopkeepers, sa- 
 loon-keepers, mechanics, and farmers, and that two German 
 doctors were the only representatives of the higher educa- 
 tion among them. That with such readers there was not
 
 62 HENRY VILLARD [1856 
 
 much chance for " literary distinction" was plain enough. 
 As the paper was to raise boldly, between two issues, 
 the Republican instead of the Democratic flag in its col- 
 umns, the effect of this somersault upon the subscribers 
 remained to be seen. It was clear that, as a preventive 
 of numerous desertions among them, the contents of the 
 paper ought to be very much improved; but the poor ma- 
 terial equipment rendered this out of the question. 
 
 Still, I resolved to try my best. New as I was to the 
 calling, the first weeks were full of hard work and nervous 
 anxiety. I believe that I wrote and re-wrote the editorials 
 in the first number issued under my control half a dozen 
 times, until I could persuade myself that they would pass 
 muster. I worked literally night and day, succeeding, I 
 can say without self-flattery, in producing very respectable 
 papers. There were at the time only three other German 
 Republican papers published in Wisconsin, as against a 
 score of Democratic, but they all complimented my work. 
 The Democratic organs, as was to be expected, raised a 
 great outcry against the political conversion of the Volks- 
 blatt, and at once began to abuse me as its originator, with 
 much wrath and unanimity of feeling. The change in the 
 politics of the paper provoked also a declaration, by about 
 a score of old subscribers, published in a Milwaukee German 
 paper, that the "treason" of the paper was due to the 
 mercenariness and bad faith of the publisher, who had no 
 right to sell it, as leading Democrats had originally sup- 
 plied the capital. This added fuel to the flame, and made 
 the war I waged in my columns against political opponents 
 hotter from week to week. More than half of the sub- 
 scribers stopped their paper; but I did not mind this, as 
 the local managers of the campaign ordered as large an edi- 
 tion as we could print with our facilities, till after the 
 election. 
 
 I was not expected to do anything except, through the 
 newspaper, to persuade the local German voters to go with 
 the Republican party. But I was too earnest, and too full
 
 1856] POLITICS AND JOURNALISM 63 
 
 of the intense excitement that took possession of the whole 
 Union during the memorable Presidential contest of that 
 year, to confine my activity to writing. I volunteered to 
 organize a German wing of the local Republican club, and, 
 although this was no easy task, owing to the stolid alle- 
 giance of my countrymen to the other party, I succeeded 
 in working up a membership of nearly fifty from the small- 
 est beginnings. We held frequent meetings, which gave 
 me the long-desired opportunity to practise public speaking. 
 I readily got over the first embarrassment, common to all 
 beginners in that art, and acquired considerable fluency. 
 I even addressed some gatherings of German voters espe- 
 cially brought together to listen to me. I was so much en- 
 couraged that I even ventured on two occasions on the bold 
 experiment of speaking in English before general meetings 
 of the Republican club. I was well prepared, and, as a 
 double precaution against failure, spoke but briefly. It 
 helped me very much to have the opportunity to listen to 
 a number of prominent politicians and fine speakers from 
 other States who came to Racine to address mass-meetings. 
 There were also some very good speakers among the local 
 leaders, whom I heard regularly in the club. The most 
 prominent among them was Judge Doolittle, afterwards 
 United States Senator. 
 
 Notwithstanding these political preoccupations, I found 
 time to form a regular connection, as Western political cor- 
 respondent, with the Neue Zcit, a weekly of the highest 
 aspirations, founded by an enterprising German publisher 
 in New York. It numbered among its contributors all the 
 leading German-American writers, as well as eminent lite- 
 rati and journalists in the old country. It was edited 
 with great care, and every number was replete with fine 
 articles on politics, literature, science, music, and other 
 subjects. I had become acquainted with its editors in New 
 York, and had an ambitious longing to be permitted to 
 write for it. Shortly after reaching Racine, I prepared a 
 long letter on the general political situation in the North-
 
 64 HENRY VILLARD [1856 
 
 west. I spent much time and labor on it and sent it to 
 the editors at a venture. To my intense joy, there came an 
 answer from them within a week, saying that it was gladly 
 accepted, and that further contributions were desired from 
 me. My compensation was to be five dollars a letter, which 
 was not a liberal allowance, considering the hard work in- 
 volved in it for me; still, it was adding just so much to 
 my income, and, moreover, I thought it such an honor to 
 write for the Neue Zeit that I would gladly have corre- 
 sponded with it without pay. 
 
 I vividly recollect to this hour the feverish anxiety into 
 which I had worked myself by the time of the near ap- 
 proach of the election. I became so restless that even my 
 editorial duties seemed very irksome. I did outside political 
 work from morning till midnight. The night following the 
 elections, I stayed up with the local Republican leaders till 
 the small hours of the morning. The election returns were 
 not encouraging when we finally sought our quarters, but 
 there was no ground for giving up hope. I need hardly 
 say that I felt indescribably woful when it became a cruel 
 certainty on the following day that, instead of achieving 
 a sweeping victory, the Republicans had suffered an over- 
 whelming, humiliating defeat. My inexpressible disgust 
 made me shun the sight of everybody, and it took me nearly 
 a week to recover my balance. 
 
 There was enough in the condition of the Volksblatt to 
 sober me entirely. As already mentioned, its sudden politi- 
 cal conversion had resulted in a considerable melting away 
 of the subscription-list. The election being over, all the 
 campaign subscriptions stopped, of course, and the fact 
 stared me in the face that there remained only about two 
 hundred and fifty names that could be positively relied on 
 for the future. The advertising patronage, too, was slim. 
 The total gross income of the paper from both sources was 
 not more than eighteen hundred dollars. A close calcula- 
 tion showed that it would take nearly twice as much to pay 
 my salary, the wages of two printers, the cost of paper, ink,
 
 1856] POLITICS AND JOURNALISM 65 
 
 etc. Moreover, the renewal of type was imperative. Dur- 
 ing the campaign, the paper had been allowed a subsidy of 
 fifty dollars a week out of the party funds, and, in view 
 of the condition described, it was of vital importance to 
 me to know whether this stipend would be continued. 
 Hence, I naturally communicated without delay with the 
 Republican Committee on the subject, only to discover, how- 
 ever, that all their enthusiasm had evaporated with the lost 
 election. I received, too, my first lesson in that common 
 experience in this and every other free country, that there 
 is the greatest difference between the promises of politicians 
 before an election and their fulfilment after it. I was in- 
 formed at once that not only had the campaign fund been 
 entirely exhausted, but the committee was still in debt for 
 electioneering expenses, and that hence they could not con- 
 tribute another dollar towards the VolksNatt. Nor was 
 this all. I now learned for the first time that the greater 
 part of the purchase price of the paper was still unpaid 
 that, indeed, only one-fourth of it had been paid down in 
 cash, and that the balance would become due in six months 
 from the date of purchase and was secured by a mortgage 
 on the whole concern. This revelation was accompanied 
 by the suggestion, which, under the circumstances, sounded 
 a good deal like mockery, that, in view of my zealous ser- 
 vices during the campaign, the committee would be will- 
 ing to waive all claim for the cash payment, and turn the 
 paper over to me, to be dealt with as best I could, upon the 
 sole condition that I should continue to advocate the Repub- 
 lican cause. 
 
 The double task was thus to be put upon me of increasing 
 the income of the paper to a living point and making pro- 
 vision within less than four months for the payment of 
 the remaining three-quarters of the purchase price 
 a decidedly appalling outlook. But my enthusiasm and 
 confidence in myself were greater than my business ex- 
 perience, so, after considering the question for a couple of 
 days, I decided to accept the committee's proposal. I had
 
 66 HENRY VILLARD [1856-7 
 
 persuaded myself that, with strong personal efforts, I might 
 succeed in securing considerable additions to the subscrip- 
 tion-list. Then I had reason to think that, by adding a job- 
 printing outfit to the establishment, a new source of in- 
 come might be found. As regarded the unpaid purchase 
 money, I got over the difficulty by assuring myself that, 
 if I was successful in my efforts in other directions and 
 could make a small additional payment, the creditor would 
 probably be willing to grant an extension of time. There 
 remained the necessity of procuring a new lot of type for 
 the paper. I had heard that it was not difficult to obtain 
 credit from type-makers, and that was sufficient to do away 
 with my hesitation on that score. 
 
 I can affirm that I left no stone unturned in my subse- 
 quent endeavors to establish the Volksblatt on a paying 
 basis. I devoted all the time I could spare from my office 
 labors as editor and publisher to a persistent canvass for 
 new subscribers and advertisers. I solicited not only in 
 Racine, but in three other smaller towns in the county. I 
 even visited Milwaukee repeatedly, but at the end of the 
 year I had secured only a hundred and thirty subscribers 
 more and about seven hundred dollars ' worth of advertising 
 about one-third of the amount needed to keep up the 
 paper. A good part of the new receipts, too, I had to use 
 for travelling expenses. 
 
 This meagre result brought me to the end of my wits. 
 I had exhausted the whole field in which anything was to 
 be gathered. I might have bought job and ordinary type 
 on credit, if I had made myself personally liable for it, but 
 I was afraid to do so, and did not buy. The inevitable 
 end of my newspaper ownership came early in January, 
 1857. Unable to pay the wages of the compositors any 
 longer, I advised the chairman of the Republican Com- 
 mittee of my state of stress. He authorized me to turn the 
 concern over to the former owner, who reluctantly ac- 
 cepted it and forthwith changed it back into a Democratic 
 organ. He claimed at the time that the committee, and I
 
 1857] POLITICS AND JOURNALISM 67 
 
 myself as its successor in the control of the paper, were 
 liable to him for the balance due, but he had no legal rem- 
 edy and did not attempt to enforce his claim. Twenty- 
 four years later, when at the height of my prosperity, I 
 received a letter from this same person, saying that he 
 had been ruined by relieving me of the paper and asking 
 for some recognition on my part. I sent him a check for 
 one thousand dollars.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 CORRESPONDENT AND SCHOOL-TEACHER. 1857-8 
 
 I HAD saved enough money to keep me for a few months, 
 and concluded to remain in Racine till spring. Al- 
 though without any regular employment, I was not idle. I 
 continued my contributions to the Neue Zeit, even ventur- 
 ing to alternate letters with brief essays on social and po- 
 litical subjects, which were as readily accepted. I was jus- 
 tified then in believing that I should succeed as a German 
 writer. I also knew that, owing to the limited field open 
 to German journalism and literature in this country, a 
 career as such would hardly be satisfactory as regarded 
 either material profit or reputation. I saw, too, the incom- 
 parably wider sphere in both respects of the Anglo-Amer- 
 ican journalist. I had acquired such familiarity with Eng- 
 lish that there seemed to be no reason why I should not, 
 with proper diligence, succeed before long in learning to 
 write with sufficient fluency and correctness to enable me 
 to enter that wider arena. I therefore determined to de- 
 vote myself unremittingly to the task. I practised Eng- 
 lish composition for several hours every day, unless absent 
 from home. I had to be my own teacher, and I followed 
 a very simple and, as the result proved, effective method. 
 I took a newspaper article or magazine, or a chapter in 
 a novel, or some standard matter, read it over carefully 
 several times, and then tried to reproduce it with pen and 
 paper. Having the model before me, I could always cor- 
 rect my own work. After two months' practice, I felt able 
 to venture an article on European politics for the Daily 
 Advocate, the local Republican paper. I took it to the 
 editor myself, explaining that it was my first attempt 
 
 68
 
 1857] CORRESPONDENT AND TEACHER 69 
 
 at writing in English, and that I expected no compensation 
 for it if he thought it fit to be published. He looked it 
 over, detected only one error, and promised to publish not 
 only that but any other matter in the same line that I might 
 bring him. I wrote thereafter one or two articles a week 
 for the paper, with constantly increasing facility. 
 
 After the New Year, 1857, I had frequent occasion to 
 interrupt my labors for days at a time. I learned by chance 
 that some leading Germans in Milwaukee had formed a 
 project similar to my Chicago land scheme, and would ap- 
 ply to the Wisconsin Legislature for a special act incor- 
 porating a land company with powers to acquire real estate 
 in any part of the United States and to issue stock and 
 bonds against it. The information revived so strongly my 
 former faith that such an organization could make no end 
 of money, that I went to Milwaukee to confer with the 
 parties in question. I found that, though having no defi- 
 nite plans, they were very enthusiastic about the matter. 
 The idea again got such complete possession of me that I 
 made up my mind to try for a charter myself, alone. I went 
 to Madison, the capital of the State, where the Legislature 
 was holding its biennial session, and interested the Senator 
 and member from Racine County in the scheme. They 
 framed the charter for me, and in due time it was passed 
 by both houses ; but, to achieve this success, it was necessary 
 to make several visits to the capital. During my stay there, 
 I renewed my acquaintance with Hermann Goll, whom I 
 had met the year before at Chicago, a man of thorough 
 scholarship and great literary capacity, who was fulfilling 
 the uncongenial duties of editor of the weekly German 
 newspaper. He was thoroughly disgusted with his voca- 
 tion and surroundings, for he was withal an extreme radi- 
 cal ^(politically) as well as a most entertaining man. He 
 did not endure his situation long, but returned to his na- 
 tive land of Baden, where he died a few years ago, being 
 at the time the editor of the conservative official journal of 
 the Government of the Grand Duchy. I also became ac-
 
 70 HENRY VTLLARD [1857 
 
 quainted with Dr. Fuchs, another German scholar and 
 thorough gentleman, and his bright, amiable wife. He 
 held a professorship at the State University. These pleas- 
 ant acquaintances were the only actual fruits of my 
 repeated visits to Madison, for subsequent efforts in Mil- 
 waukee to utilize the charter by forming a land company 
 conjointly with the parties referred to proved unavailing, 
 so that I gave up the attempt in disgust and the act re- 
 mained a dead letter. 
 
 In the course of the winter, I had my first insight into 
 American domestic life and society as it then existed in a 
 comparatively new Western town. My recollections in this 
 connection are of the most agreeable nature. I saw then, 
 for the first time, the neatness, order, comfort, peace, and 
 quiet that, as a rule, characterize the American home ; and 
 made the observation, which is confirmed every day of 
 my life, that American women of any social position have 
 not their equals in any other country for brightness, tact, 
 and true womanhood, and that they are as intelligent as 
 American men and superior to them in all other respects 
 except, of course, knowledge of practical life. The rich- 
 est men were persons who began life as mechanics or small 
 tradesmen. Their whole bearing showed their origin, but 
 their wives and daughters looked like ladies, and in most 
 cases were really such. Yet those uncouth-mannered men 
 had given, or were giving, the very best education to their 
 children that money could command. The professors of 
 the college imparted a somewhat higher tone to social life 
 than prevailed in other Western towns. Some of them 
 were really learned and ardently devoted to their calling. 
 The older college students and a goodly number of attrac- 
 tive young ladies rendered the social circles very animated 
 and pleasant, at least for one of my age. 
 
 What with my past savings and current earnings, I was 
 able to remain in Racine till early in May. I had had such 
 a pleasant and at the same time useful experience there 
 that I found it really hard to make up my mind to leave for
 
 1857] CORRESPONDENT AND TEACHER 71 
 
 good. It was true, too, that my departure was regretted 
 by many of my acquaintances. But it was clear that my 
 aim had to be pursued elsewhere, and, thinking that such 
 pursuit would be more promising in the intellectual centres 
 of the East, I set out once more for New York. I arrived 
 there with a slender purse and half a dozen long articles on 
 miscellaneous subjects, three in German and three in Eng- 
 lish, prepared in advance, as a means of further introduc- 
 tion to the metropolitan press. 
 
 With the acquaintances I had made the year before 
 in the Empire City, I had no trouble in obtaining proper 
 introductions to the editors of the principal American and 
 German dailies namely, the Tribune, Times, Herald, and 
 the Staats-Zeitung, the Democratic paper. It was far more 
 difficult to obtain personal interviews with several people, 
 whom, however, I managed to see after more or less ante- 
 chambering Charles A. Dana, the editorial manager of the 
 Tribune, and also Henry J. Raymond and Frederic Hud- 
 son, who filled like positions on the Times and Herald. 
 The first-mentioned I found quite talkative and affable. 
 He began the conversation in German, which he spoke very 
 fluently, and, after a few keen questions, he soon took my 
 measure, and made me confess that I was a new hand at the 
 journalist's trade and had nothing to offer but a willing- 
 ness to work and ambitious aspirations. He showed a dis- 
 position to sneer at the latter. Still, the ardor with which 
 I pressed my application for employment seemed to im- 
 press him. He took down my address, saying that he would 
 perhaps try me as a general reporter of the doings of the 
 Germans in the city. I offered him one of my English 
 articles on ' ' German Life in the Northwest, ' ' and he prom- 
 ised to read it. Mr. Raymond also received me kindly, Hut 
 gave me no encouragement at all, and declined to receive 
 and examine one of my English productions. He intimated 
 that the Times had more editorial contributions than it 
 could print, that it was always ready to pay liberally for 
 what it published, and for valuable news. He was perfectly
 
 72 HENRY VILLARD [1857 
 
 polite, but brief and decided. His whole manner, indeed, 
 revealed the vigorous, resolute mind that characterized his 
 career as a journalist. Mr. Hudson's response to my ap- 
 plication was substantially the same. "What do you think 
 that you can do for us ? " he asked me, when I got through 
 with my explanation of my wishes; and I found it hard, 
 of course, to reply. "Anything in the way of news that 
 you bring us, I will read, and use if acceptable." He 
 merely cast a glance at the samples of my ability to write, 
 and turned me off, saying, ' ' It would have to be a matter of 
 the highest value to induce the Herald to print anything so 
 long." 
 
 The Staats-Zeitung was then and is now one of the most 
 prosperous newspapers in the world, and, as such, entirely 
 able, but willing only to a moderate degree, to pay for ex- 
 tra contributions. Mrs. Uhl, the widow of its founder, was 
 the active business-manager. She was a woman of com- 
 manding and pleasing presence, and superintended the 
 whole concern, including the editorial and business depart- 
 ments, with untiring industry (she was at her post at eight 
 o'clock every morning), excellent judgment, and great suc- 
 cess. The politics of the paper were abominable, but it 
 had a Sunday issue on neutral ground, and to it I sought 
 admission. Mrs. Uhl had a very kindly nature, which blos- 
 somed out in after years in the shape of private and pub- 
 lic charity on the largest practical scale. On her death, in 
 1884 (she died Mrs. Oswald Ottendorf er) , her worth was 
 recognized by one of the greatest public demonstrations 
 ever witnessed in New York. I understood that she was 
 beset all the time with requests like mine, and hence hardly 
 expected the friendly hearing which she granted me. She 
 agreed to have my literary articles read by her literary 
 editor and to advise me promptly of the result. My call 
 at the office of the New-Yorker Democrat bore no fruit, 
 as I had anticipated from what I had heard of its lim- 
 ited pecuniary resources. 
 
 In a few days I received my manuscript from Mr. Dana,
 
 1857] CORRESPONDENT AND TEACHER 73 
 
 with a brief note saying that he could not use it. The 
 Staats-Zeitung, on the other hand, informed me that two 
 of my articles had been accepted, and that they would be 
 paid for, when published, at the rate of four dollars a col- 
 umn. They brought actually twenty-one dollars to me 
 in all. This was rather a humiliating compensation for 
 what represented more than a week's hard work, and did 
 not augur well for the rapid acquisition of wealth by means 
 of my pen ; but I took the money and worked on. If I re- 
 member correctly, my contributions to the Staats-Zeitung 
 earned me only four dollars a week. The Neue Zeit also 
 continued to accept about a column every fortnight, for 
 which I received five dollars, and I managed, too, to get 
 something to do for the German edition of Frank Leslie's 
 Illustrated Weekly, which was started at that time. As re- 
 garded the American press, my dream of an editorial con- 
 nection had been rudely dispelled ; but, nothing daunted, I 
 resolved to get en rapport with them as a chance reporter 
 or penny-a-liner. I tried all the three dailies named with 
 brief accounts of special occurrences among the German 
 population, such as public festivals, military parades, pro- 
 ceedings of societies, etc., and succeeded fairly well. At 
 least half of what I offered was accepted, but the work was 
 hard and discouraging, owing to the uncertainty of the pay. 
 I do not believe that my income from this source ever ex- 
 ceeded eight dollars a week. 
 
 This was literally scraping a precarious livelihood. I 
 continued it for nearly three months and gradually grew 
 very weary of it. I had neither sufficient income nor leisure 
 for social enjoyments, and led a very lonesome life. I be- 
 gan to long for a change and to consider my leaving the 
 West a great mistake. I was already thinking of ways and 
 means of returning there when a chance to do so was sud- 
 denly presented to me. A contest had broken out between 
 the Republicans and Democrats of Minnesota in the polit- 
 ical convention called under an act of Congress to frame 
 a State Constitution, that attracted a good deal of atten-
 
 74 HENRY VILLARD [1857 
 
 tion. It flashed upon me that I might induce one of the 
 American dailies to send me as a special correspondent to the 
 scene of action. I proposed this without delay to the three 
 managing editors. Mr. Dana alone was willing to consider 
 it. He would not, however, act upon my bold suggestion 
 to allow me a regular salary and expenses, but agreed, after 
 much parleying, only to let me write not less than twenty 
 columns from St. Paul, and to allow me twelve dollars a col- 
 umn for the work. I figured up the travelling expenses 
 to St. Paul at fifty dollars more money than I had at my 
 command. I was about to give up the plan, on account of 
 this apparently insuperable obstacle, when an American 
 fellow-reporter, with whom I had struck up a close acquain- 
 tance, helped me out with a good piece of advice. He 
 recommended that I should go to Albany and ask Thurlow 
 Weed, the famous editor of the Albany Journal, to obtain 
 passes for me. My adviser had himself tried the same thing 
 successfully. 
 
 I packed up and took the first evening boat for the capi- 
 tal of the State. On landing in the morning, I made di- 
 rectly for the Journal office, and ascertained that the re- 
 nowned personage I went to see was fortunately in town. 
 I had the desired interview with him before noon. His 
 exterior was the index of a remarkable man. His tall form, 
 beardless face, set in a frame of gray, bushy hair, heavy 
 eyebrows, and a large mouth made a strong combination 
 of features. His kindly eyes and pleasant smile were 
 in contrast to the rest of his face. He gave me a friendly 
 welcome and listened to my request. After questioning me 
 as to the object of my Western trip, he said promptly, 
 "I think I can help you," sat down, and wrote a letter 
 of introduction for me to a local railroad official, requesting 
 him to obtain passes for me as far westward in the direction 
 of St. Paul as possible. The thanks that I expressed were 
 sincere, for I certainly had no claim upon him. The letters 
 had the desired effect. I was given a pass from Albany 
 to Buffalo, orders for transportation thence to Detroit by
 
 1857J CORRESPONDENT AND TEACHER 75 
 
 Lake Erie, and from Detroit to Grand Haven, Milwaukee, 
 and Prairie du Chien, the terminus of the only railroad at 
 that time crossing the State of Wisconsin to the Mississippi 
 River. I started at once and had a most interesting and 
 enjoyable, but uneventful, trip of four and a half days to 
 Prairie du Chien. There I took a passenger steamer up the 
 Mississippi to my destination. I found the scenery formed 
 by the banks of the river very picturesque. Going up- 
 stream and making many landings, we were over twenty- 
 four hours on the boat. I believe that we reached St. Paul 
 on the 15th of August. 
 
 The town had not over seven thousand inhabitants. I 
 was struck with the beauty and other advantages of its 
 situation and was at once satisfied it had a great future. 
 At the levee there was a long line of steamboats, showing 
 already an extensive local commerce. The Territory of 
 Minnesota being then on the eve of admission to the Union 
 as a State, the tide of immigration from the Eastern States 
 had set strongly in that direction. Several boats arrived 
 daily from below with crowds of seekers of political and 
 other fortunes. The place was thronged with a floating pop- 
 ulation far beyond its residential. It consisted of two 
 straggling business streets parallel to the river, gradually 
 ascending to a plateau bordered by wooded hills, which had 
 already been reached by the residence portion of the town 
 and was considerably developed. From the plateau there 
 was a magnificent prospect over the Mississippi valley and 
 a large expanse of country to the west of it. There were 
 two main centres of life in the community the large brick 
 hotel, at which I stopped, and the Territorial capitol. 
 There was stir enough, to be sure, but who would have dared 
 to prophesy that in a little over thirty years the small town 
 would grow into a city of two hundred thousand people? 
 
 The complication in the constitutional convention that 
 led to my journey was this : The Democrats were charged 
 with having perpetrated frauds in the election and sent 
 up five members from Pembina County (now part of North
 
 76 HENRY VILLARD [1857 
 
 Dakota), who were rejected as coming from outside terri- 
 tory. The Republicans numbered fifty-nine and the Demo- 
 crats fifty-four. Upon the rejection of the Pembina dele- 
 gates, the Democrats seceded and sat in a separate hall. 
 Each party proceeded to make a constitution, denounced 
 the other violently, and the bitterest War was raging be- 
 tween them when I arrived. For a week, there was plenty 
 of material for letters, but wiser counsels prevailed, and a 
 committee of conference was appointed to harmonize the 
 two constitutions and submit only one to the people. The 
 conference was successful, and the committee's report was 
 made to both bodies and adopted on August 30. There- 
 upon, the "double-headed" convention adjourned and my 
 mission was ended, much sooner than I wished. 
 
 Being thus deprived of political material for correspon- 
 dence, I sought to obtain other by visiting various parts 
 of the Territory. For this purpose, I joined a party of 
 young fellows who set out for a fortnight's hunting-trip 
 to the northwest of St. Paul. We started in an ordinary 
 farmer's wagon, drawn by two horses. After travelling 
 some hours, the road came to an end, and we continued our 
 way at a venture across the wild prairie. We struck a 
 tamarack swamp in the afternoon, and, thinking that it 
 was of no great extent, tried to cross it. We struggled on, 
 but had not reached the end of it when the sun set and we 
 felt obliged to stop for the night in a comparatively dry 
 spot. From the time we entered the swamp, men and ani- 
 mals struggled desperately to protect themselves from the 
 swarms of mosquitoes, but, in spite of the most vigorous 
 resistance, we were quickly stung all over. We walked 
 alongside of the horses, which, although we brushed them 
 incessantly with twigs, were constantly covered and driven 
 almost wild by the insects. Their ears and nostrils suf- 
 fered especially. On halting for the night, we made a 
 narrow circle of branches strewn with green grass about 
 our camp, and fired it, so as to surround ourselves with a 
 dense smoke. It did but little good, and, owing to our
 
 1857] CORRESPONDENT AND TEACHER 77 
 
 efforts to protect ourselves and the horses, no one of us got 
 any rest. We started again at daybreak, and it took us 
 nearly the whole forenoon to reach dry prairie. The mos- 
 quito plague, however, diminished but little, so that we 
 decided to make for St. Paul again as quickly as possible. 
 We arrived there late in the evening of the third day. I 
 was a sight to behold. My face was really disfigured, and 
 I was so exhausted that I stayed in bed for a whole day. 
 
 In spite of this experience, I set out on another wagon- 
 trip to the town of Faribault, on the Minnesota River, forty 
 miles southwest of St. Paul. My motive was to see James 
 F. Shields, formerly United States Senator from Illinois, 
 and a resident of Belleville, where I had become acquainted 
 with him. He had distinguished himself in the Mexican 
 War, but belonged to the class of political adventurers, 
 so numerous in the West in those days, who tried their 
 fortunes in one new State after another. Not being re- 
 elected to the United States Senate in Illinois, he migrated 
 to Minnesota, whence he managed to be sent as Senator for 
 a short term. Subsequently, on her admission into the 
 Union, he served on the Northern side in the war against 
 the Southern Rebellion, and succeeded in being elected 
 United States Senator from Missouri. The newspapers had 
 announced that Speaker Orr of South Carolina and several 
 other leading Democratic politicians were visiting him, and 
 this fact prompted my journey. 
 
 I had another sore trial from the mosquitoes in crossing 
 the so-called Big Woods, a strip of timber, many miles wide, 
 extending from south to north across the State. But other- 
 wise the drive through the rolling prairie country, dotted 
 with lakes fringed by oak groves, to the picturesque valley 
 of the Minnesota was quite interesting. Faribault I found 
 to be an embryo village of a few dozen brick, frame, and log 
 houses, for which a large growth was expected. It never be- 
 came more than a small country town, however. Under 
 the pre-emption law, General Shields had acquired a quar- 
 ter-section of land immediately adjoining the town. I
 
 78 HENRY VILLARD [1857 
 
 found him living upon it, on an eminence commanding a 
 beautiful view of the surrounding country, in a one-story 
 log house of the most primitive description, divided into 
 three rooms. He was sitting in front of it, with his visitors, 
 on rude chairs; smoking a "corn-cob" and looking alto- 
 gether like a true pioneer. He received me very cordially, 
 and introduced me to the rest of the company, and I spent 
 several hours listening to their varied talk. They were all 
 supplied with a good stock of funny stories, which they 
 dispensed with great liberality. Altogether, I gathered 
 ample material for some descriptive letters, and bitter, there- 
 fore, was my disappointment when I found, on my return 
 to St. Paul, a letter from the editor of the Tribune, de- 
 clining to authorize me to write any more, thus leaving me 
 once more without employment. While thinking over my 
 situation, the idea came to me that I had better return to 
 New York and offer my services to the Tribune, or any 
 other paper there that might be willing to accept them, 
 as a regular correspondent from the seat of the Sepoy 
 Mutiny in India, which at that time absorbed the anxious 
 attention of the whole world. 
 
 I arrived in New York about the middle of September, 
 and immediately entered upon the pursuit of my objects. 
 As no one of the great dailies had, up to that time, pub- 
 lished special correspondence from the seat of the Mutiny, 
 I felt very confident of success, and visions of prospective 
 honors and profits cheered me on ; but I had not taken one 
 important factor into consideration. The country was fast 
 plunging into the severe financial crisis of 1857. The sus- 
 pension of the Ohio Life and Trust Company, which ushered 
 in that era of long and general distress, had already oc- 
 curred and was being daily followed by failures of banks 
 and commercial houses in the city. General distrust pre- 
 vailed, and trade of every sort had come almost to a stand- 
 still. The newspaper business, like every other, was being 
 seriously affected, and publishers and editors necessarily 
 were bent upon reducing rather than enlarging their cur-
 
 1857] CORRESPONDENT AND TEACHER 79 
 
 rent expenditures. My successive applications to the edi- 
 tors of the Tribune, Times, and Herald resulted in nothing, 
 although I saw them more than once. The sole encourage- 
 ment I received was from the editor of the Evening Post, 
 John Bigelow, afterwards Consul-General and Minister to 
 France, but he only offered to pay me twenty dollars a 
 letter for what I wrote. 
 
 I was very loath to give up my plan, and for weeks taxed 
 my wits for means to raise the needed funds. 1 The only 
 result was that, in the latter half of October, I found my- 
 self penniless and without any prospect of work in the great 
 city, which was swarming with tens of thousands of idle 
 men and women, the victims of the crisis. I was finally 
 obliged to put up in a German boarding-house in Jersey 
 City, and to appeal for help to a former female servant of 
 my parents, whom I accidentally found to be living there. 
 Her husband, whom I had also known in my youth, was a 
 skilful journeyman stone-cutter, and had saved a little 
 money from his earnings. These good people gladly pro- 
 vided for my wants, which did not exceed five dollars a week. 
 In my subsequent prosperity I had the satisfaction of being 
 able to manifest to them my grateful appreciation of their 
 kindness. 
 
 I prepared a number of articles, both in German and in 
 English, on various subjects, and every few days went to 
 New York and visited the newspaper offices to find a mar- 
 ket for them. But all through October I managed to sell 
 only two German articles, for which I received ten dollars ! 
 While in a German office one day, I accidentally picked up 
 the Reading (Pa.) Adler, the well-known principal paper 
 of the Pennsylvania Germans in the eastern counties of the 
 State, printed in the singular jargon spoken in those parts. 
 Glancing over the advertising columns, I noticed quite a 
 number of short advertisements for teachers in Berks and 
 Bucks and Lebanon Counties. Being very much discour- 
 
 1 One illusive opening was the Government's military expedition 
 against the Mormons in the autumn of 1857.
 
 80 HENRY VILLARD [1857 
 
 aged as to my ability to earn a living by literary work, 
 and anxious to be relieved from my pecuniary straits, 
 it occurred to me that there lay the possibility of regular 
 employment. To be sure, I had not the slightest knowledge 
 of teaching, but, from what I had seen of the country 
 schools in different places, I was persuaded that I could 
 manage to fill the prescribed requirements. Accordingly, I 
 left Jersey City for Reading on the last of October. On 
 reaching it, I called on the County School Commissioner, 
 to whom I explained my aspirations. He informed me that 
 there was no suitable opening for me in his county, but that 
 he had just received a letter from his colleague in the ad- 
 joining county of Lebanon, asking for a teacher for one of 
 the district schools under his administration. I took the 
 next train for Lebanon, and presented myself without delay 
 to the School Commissioner. He was a very kindly, elderly 
 man, speaking very good German, who interested himself 
 at once in my case. He asked me whether I had a teacher's 
 certificate, and, when I replied that I had not, suggested 
 that I should submit to an examination at once, or pre- 
 pare myself for one, as I could not be accepted as a teacher 
 without a certificate. I declared my willingness to be ex- 
 amined on the spot, though doubting my ability to pass, 
 whereupon he assured me that I need have no fears. He 
 made me sit down, and, for an hour and a half, put me 
 through a series of questions in arithmetic, grammar, his- 
 tory, and geography, three-fourths of which, under his 
 kind leading, I answered correctly. Then, on payment of 
 one dollar, I received a certificate pronouncing me duly 
 qualified to teach any district school in the State of Penn- 
 sylvania ; also a letter of introduction to the Board of School 
 Directors for Swatara Township, the chairman of which 
 resided in the village of Jonestown, six miles from Lebanon, 
 whither I went on foot the next morning. 
 
 I found Jonestown to be a neat, clean place, consisting 
 of a public square from the four sides of which as many 
 streets extended at right angles. The buildings around the
 
 1857] CORRESPONDENT AND TEACHER 81 
 
 square, which contained some fine elms, consisted of three 
 hotels with old-fashioned swinging signs, two stores for gen- 
 eral retail trade, and some mechanics' shops. The hamlet 
 had a most sleepy look, which on closer acquaintance proved 
 to be in accordance with its true character. Its population, 
 with the exception of a single family, was entirely made up 
 of Pennsylvania Germans, and their peculiar language was 
 used exclusively. I made my way to the most attractive 
 hotel, the landlord of which, a fine-looking, white-haired 
 man, was watching the goings-on from a chair on the main 
 veranda. He gave me a hearty welcome, and, like a gen- 
 uine village Boniface, immediately tried to find out who 
 I was and what I wanted. On learning my object in being 
 there, he made himself known as one of the school board, 
 and offered to take me at once to the chairman of it. 
 This proved to be the village doctor, a native of New York 
 State, and an intelligent, well-educated man. He received 
 me very kindly, and, after an hour's talk, we were on the 
 best possible footing. 
 
 Having taken my intellectual measure, he told me 
 frankly that I was altogether too well educated for the 
 class of people I was to come in contact with, and for the 
 common-school work I wished to undertake. But, on being 
 informed that I sought the latter not from choice but from 
 necessity, he offered to make it as pleasant as possible for 
 me. He called a meeting of the school directors for the 
 same evening, at which I was formally assigned to the va- 
 cant school for the two terms of three months each (the com- 
 mon schools in the county were not kept open longer) , and 
 my compensation fixed at thirty dollars a month and board 
 more than had ever been allowed for the same service. 
 I was but too glad to accept, but was rather taken aback 
 when the doctor explained to me that I was not to have an 
 allowance for board, but would have to "board around" 
 among the farmers whose children were to be my pupils 
 that is, to change my eating- and sleeping-place once a week. 
 There was nothing to be done, however, but to submit.
 
 82 HENRY VILLARD [1857 
 
 The first school-term was not to begin for a week, so I 
 remained at the tavern I had first selected during that time. 
 I went back to Lebanon for the valise that contained all 
 my belongings. I was reduced to the suit I wore, a fall 
 overcoat, and a limited supply of linen and underwear. I 
 bought the prescribed text-books, to the study of which I de- 
 voted myself diligently. During the week I also made my- 
 self acquainted with the leading villagers and the sur- 
 rounding country. I found the latter most attractive every 
 way. The Swatara River, that flowed through the village, 
 coursed through a most picturesque valley from the beau- 
 tiful Blue Mountains, the main ridge of which was but a 
 few miles distant. The rolling country was finely diversi- 
 fied and highly improved, and dotted with prosperous 
 farms. Fine public roads extended in every direction a 
 feature especially pleasing to a passionate pedestrian like 
 myself. Assuredly, I did not fail to visit at once the scene 
 of my future labors. The school-house was an ordinary 
 building, decidedly neglected, and too small for the num- 
 ber of children entitled to use it, but well-lighted and 
 well-situated on an elevation close to a by-road, about three- 
 quarters of an hour from the village. 
 
 I duly entered upon my duties at the appointed time. 
 Only thirty-five pupils out of sixty reported, and the at- 
 tendance was always meagre, never exceeding forty, and 
 sinking in bad weather often below thirty. The ages of my 
 pupils ranged from eighteen to five, the majority being 
 perhaps twelve, with the sexes about equally divided. Most 
 of them were healthy and comely, but shabbily dressed 
 and anything but cleanly in appearance. The majority of 
 them were evidently intelligent, but the examination with 
 which I began my teaching, in order to find out how 
 they had been taught before and how much they knew, 
 proved that they had received very irregular and limited 
 teaching. Their spelling was very defective, their writing 
 awkward, and their pronunciation of English very in- 
 correct. It became clear that I should be equal to my
 
 1857] CORRESPONDENT AND TEACHER 83 
 
 task, as far as necessary knowledge was concerned, in all 
 the branches except that of writing, in which I was dis- 
 qualified by my own bad hand. I graded my pupils as best 
 I could under the circumstances, and then proceeded regu- 
 larly with the prescribed instruction. 
 
 The law required five hours' teaching daily. The morn- 
 ing session opened at nine and continued till noon, with 
 ten minutes' recess at half-past ten, followed by an inter- 
 mission till half-past one, and then two hours more of reci- 
 tations. Saturday was a holiday. Thus I could not com- 
 plain of excessive work, nor were my duties irksome to me, 
 as the pupils were well-behaved and I soon got on a 
 good footing with them. During my stay I had but few 
 occasions to administer admonition or punishment, the 
 latter only of a light sort. The main trouble was not 
 bad conduct so much as laziness, especially on the part of 
 the older girls. The general ignorance of my flock was 
 amazing, and I seemed to be among veritable German peas- 
 ant children. They saw very little of the outside world, 
 and I readily attached them to me by reading and talk- 
 ing to them of it. Though they were the offspring of 
 families that had been settled in Pennsylvania for genera- 
 tions, only a few of them could converse or understand 
 English, so I spoke German to them. At first they found 
 it difficult to understand me, accustomed as they were to 
 the dialect. This very fact made them look upon the 
 "schoolmaster," as they all called me, with awe, as a sort of 
 superior being. Within a few weeks, the whole school was 
 ready to do anything for me, obviously feeling honored by 
 being allowed to talk or walk with me. 
 
 I certainly could not boast of great achievements in my 
 experience as a district teacher, but when I contrasted 
 my freedom from care with my last experiences in New 
 York, I felt very content with my temporary lot. This 
 feeling was strengthened when I read in the New York 
 daily Tribune, which I had subscribed for, of the progress 
 of the general distress in the large cities. But there
 
 84 HENRY VILLARD [1857 
 
 was a feature in my new life that was most distasteful 
 to me from the start. As already mentioned, the terms 
 of my engagement included ' ' free board, ' ' which was to be 
 furnished in rotation at the homes of my pupils. Each 
 family was bound to keep me only one week, so every Satur- 
 day I had to pick up my traps and move to new quarters. 
 As a rule, my hosts were kindly disposed and treated me 
 to the best they had ; but their coarse fare, crude manners, 
 and primitive domestic arrangements were hard to put up 
 with. The people I stayed with were all descended from the 
 poorest and mcst degraded class of peasants, who had emi- 
 grated under labor-contracts from my native province a 
 century previous. They brought with them their domestic 
 habits and had stuck to them ever since. I was surprised 
 to find that their table-fare, beverages, furniture, utensils, 
 and domestic practices generally were all but identical with 
 those of the peasantry of the Palatinate at that very time. 
 I found dishes on their tables that are not known in any 
 other part of Germany. They slept on and under feather- 
 beds, and, alas! I had to submit to these too, just as 
 the peasants of the Palatinate do to-day. The very bench 
 at the back of the stores for lounging purposes and smoking 
 was not wanting. Of course, these people had been elevated 
 above the level of a hundred years before, as their parents 
 had had the advantage of the generally civilizing results 
 of life in America, but my hosts were, almost without ex- 
 ception, sadly ignorant, narrow, and low. To be obliged 
 to eat at table and to spend the evening hours and free 
 days with these people, and to He obliged to sleep in the 
 same room with the male farm help, was anything but an 
 agreeable necessity. Yet I made the most of my predica- 
 ment and got along without friction. 
 
 I was, however, immensely relieved when my friend the 
 doctor, at Christmas, in response to my earnest and con- 
 stant entreaties, persuaded the school board to let him 
 arrange for my board and lodging on a different basis. 
 Accordingly, we succeeded in persuading a family with
 
 1858] CORRESPONDENT AND TEACHER 85 
 
 which I had lived a week, and which I liked better than any 
 other, to board me regularly for the modest sum of three 
 dollars a week, which the school board was to pay. The 
 family bore the name of Umberger, and consisted of two 
 brothers and their wives and four children of the elder 
 pair, two of whom were a boy of eighteen and a girl of 
 seventeen. During the four months that I remained 
 with them, there never was the least jarring between us. 
 I requited their kindness by giving the children extra 
 teaching at night, and entertaining the inquisitive older 
 folks during the long winter evenings by telling them of 
 life in the West, in Germany, and in the great American 
 cities. To show how circumscribed the vision of these peo- 
 ple necessarily was, I need but mention that most of the 
 farmers and their wives whom I met during the winter, 
 had never seen a railroad, though they lived within six 
 miles of one! 
 
 I spent my evenings, except Saturdays, at home, talking 
 and reading. Saturdays I set out for the school-house 
 after breakfast, and, after starting the fire in the stove, 
 spent all day doing journalistic work. I did not want to 
 get out of practice, and I sought also to add to my modest 
 income by it. Nothing that I offered to American papers in 
 New York was accepted, but the Staats-Z eitung published 
 some descriptive sketches and a short tale, if I remember 
 aright. Saturday evenings and Sunday afternoons and 
 evenings, I made calls in Jonestown, or spent some time 
 among the loungers around the office stoves in the several 
 taverns. Of course, I longed for company, and sought 
 what there was of it, poor as it was. One Sunday a month 
 I spent in Lebanon, where I picked up a pleasant acquaint- 
 ance with the editor of the leading local paper, the Lebanon 
 County Courier, through some communications on various 
 subjects which I sent him for gratuitous publication. 
 
 Time passed quickly till the end of May, 1858, when 
 my engagement was terminated by the closing of the 
 schools.
 
 MEMOIRS OF HENRY VILLARD 
 
 BOOK TWO 
 IN CIVIL-WAR TIME: BULL RUN
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE LINCOLN-DOUGLAS DEBATES. 1858 
 
 MAN is the creature of habit, and though the experi- 
 ences through which I had passed at Jonestown were 
 anything but congenial, I was almost loath to change my 
 peaceful, careless existence for the more active life I really 
 desired. It was evident that I had made many friends 
 who were sorry at my departure, and I did not part from 
 them without sincere regret. The Umberger family all 
 cried when I took leave. I promised them and others to 
 visit Jonestown again soon; but, alas! though I have all 
 along intended to do so, circumstances have always pre- 
 vented my revisiting the scene of my first and last at- 
 tempt at teaching up to this writing that is, during the 
 thirty-eight years that have elapsed since I left. I sup- 
 pose I should now hardly find any of my acquaintances 
 among the living. 1 
 
 I departed from Jonestown just twenty-three years old, 
 with a moderately replenished wardrobe, about sixty dol- 
 lars in my pocket, and fifty more due me from the Staats- 
 Zeitung. This was all I had in the world except splendid 
 health, eagerness for work, and fully regained and un- 
 bounded confidence in* myself. I went directly to New 
 York, determined to try once more for regular journal- 
 istic employment. I was more fortunate this time than 
 in the previous fall. On calling at the office of the Staats- 
 Zeitung and sending in my name to the publisher, Oswald 
 Ottendorfer, I was at once invited into his private office. 
 He received me very cordially, complimented me on my 
 
 1 Jonestown was revisited by Mr. in fact, whom he had known had 
 Villard in company with his son disappeared. 
 Oswald in the spring of 1897. All, 
 
 89
 
 90 HENRY VILLARD [1858 
 
 work for the paper, and asked me whether I was a profes- 
 sional journalist. Encouraged by his friendly manner, I 
 spoke out frankly about my past and my aspirations. We 
 talked a long time, and he finally told me he would consult 
 with Mrs. Uhl, the proprietress of the paper, as to giving 
 me steady employment, and let me know something definite 
 the next day. 
 
 On reporting to him at the appointed hour, he took me 
 to Mrs. Uhl 's room and presented me to her. She received 
 me very kindly, saying that she had read my contributions, 
 and hoped that I might become regularly connected with 
 the paper. Mr. Ottendorfer then stated that their weekly 
 edition had a very large circulation throughout the West- 
 ern States, to keep up which it was necessary to send out 
 special agents from time to time to look after their cus- 
 tomers. He proposed that I should travel for the paper 
 through the middle States of Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, and 
 Illinois, collecting old subscriptions and getting new sub- 
 scribers, and at the same time writing regular descriptive 
 letters to the paper. Mrs. Uhl was willing to have me en- 
 gaged on trial for three months, and to allow me fifteen dol- 
 lars a week and actual expenses. I thought I ought not 
 to hesitate for a moment and accepted at once. I received 
 the necessary detailed instructions, the fifty dollars due 
 me, and one hundred dollars in advance on account, and set 
 out the next day for Ohio. 
 
 I commenced my canvass at Steubenville, and in the 
 course of the next five weeks, following the subscription- 
 list, visited about twenty-five larger and smaller towns, in- 
 cluding Newark, Canton, Massillon, Columbus, Springfield, 
 and Chillicothe. I wrote regularly one letter a week, 
 making from one and a half to two columns, for publication, 
 and this part of my work gave entire satisfaction. But I 
 was not successful in the other respect. I expected to find 
 more or less educated Germans in the places I visited, who 
 would be glad to give me the benefit of their advice and as- 
 sistance. But I rarely came across any men of culture.
 
 1858] LINCOLN-DOUGLAS DEBATES 91 
 
 Those I had to deal with were mainly grocers, saloon-keep- 
 ers, and small mechanics. It was hard to collect past dues, 
 and much harder to enlist new subscribers. My attempts 
 in the latter direction exposed me to no little rudeness, and 
 the pecuniary results of my efforts were so meagre that 
 my collections were not equal to my current expenditures. 
 
 I felt it my duty to write Mr. Ottendorf er frankly, at the 
 expiration of a month, that I was afraid I should not prove 
 a successful canvasser, and to propose a new plan of 
 operations. The public press was filled at the time with 
 references to the approaching contest on the stump for the 
 succession to the United States Senate between Senator 
 Stephen A. Douglas and Abraham Lincoln in Illinois. 
 The eyes of the whole country were fixed upon the former 
 as the champion in the Senate of the wing of the Demo- 
 cratic party which had adopted his fallacious doctrine 
 that the people of the Territories should be left free to 
 regulate their domestic institutions that is, to establish 
 or to keep out slavery, as they saw fit against the other 
 wing, having the countenance of President Buchanan, 
 which favored the introduction of slavery in Kansas and 
 the other unsettled parts of the Union. Abraham Lin- 
 coln was the representative of the young Republican party. 
 A series of joint debates between the two leaders had been 
 arranged, which it was evident would form the principal 
 political event of the season. I suggested to my employers 
 to let me proceed at once to Illinois and observe the ap- 
 proaching political campaign there as the Staats-Zeitung's 
 special correspondent. To my great joy, my proposition 
 was readily accepted, and I proceeded without delay to 
 Chicago. 1 
 
 I reached there just in time to witness the grand ovation 
 given to Senator Douglas on his arrival from Washington. 
 
 1 Sympathy with the Douglas ters gratuitously, during his Wes- 
 
 Democrats in their opposition to tern engagement with the Staats- 
 
 the proslavery followers of Bu- Zeitung, to John W. Forney's Phila- 
 
 chanan led him to offer to send let- delphia Press, a Douglas organ.
 
 92 HENRY VILLARD [1858 
 
 He was received and escorted through the streets like a con- 
 quering hero, and it was made strikingly apparent that the 
 Illinois Democracy were all but unanimously for him 
 against the National Administration. I called on him the 
 next day at the Tremont House to make known my mission, 
 and to ask his leave to accompany him. I was promptly 
 shown to his parlor, where I found him talking to a few 
 friends. I knew him well by sight from my visit to Wash- 
 ington in 1856. He bid me a hearty welcome, and intro- 
 duced me to the other visitors and to his private secretary, 
 Mr. Sheridan. On learning the object of my call, he said 
 at once that he should be very happy to have my company 
 during the campaign, and directed the secretary to inform 
 me fully regarding his programme, and make the proper 
 arrangements with me. While we were talking, his newly- 
 wedded second wife came in through a side door, and I 
 was introduced to her. She was at once a most lovely and 
 a queenly apparition. Indeed, it seemed to me that I had 
 never seen a woman more beautiful in every way. Her tall 
 figure was perfectly proportioned, and her every movement 
 and gesture most graceful. She presented a marked con- 
 trast, in her youthful, blooming freshness and vivacity, to 
 her small, dark, sombre husband. She appeared to be de- 
 voted to him, and certainly helped him no little in his po- 
 litical aspirations. 
 
 The first joint debate (in the famous series of seven) 
 between Douglas and Lincoln, which I attended, took 
 place on the afternoon of August 21, 1858, at Ottawa, Illi- 
 nois. It was the great event of the day, and attracted an 
 immense concourse of people from all parts of the State. 
 Douglas spoke first for an hour, followed by Lincoln for an 
 hour and a half ; upon which the former closed in another 
 half hour. The Democratic spokesman commanded a 
 strong, sonorous voice, a rapid, vigorous utterance, a tell- 
 ing play of countenance, impressive gestures, and all the 
 other arts of the practised speaker. As far as all ex- 
 ternal conditions were concerned, there was nothing in
 
 1858] LINCOLN-DOUGLAS DEBATES 93 
 
 favor of Lincoln. He had a lean, lank, indescribably 
 gawky figure, an odd-featured, wrinkled, inexpressive, and 
 altogether uncomely face. He used singularly awkward, 
 almost absurd, up-and-down and sidewise movements of 
 his body to give emphasis to his arguments. His voice was 
 naturally good, but he frequently raised it to an unnatural 
 pitch. Yet the unprejudiced mind felt at once that, while 
 there was on the one side a skilful dialectician and debater 
 arguing a wrong and weak cause, there was on the other 
 a thoroughly earnest and truthful man, inspired by sound 
 convictions in consonance with the true spirit of Ameri- 
 can institutions. There was nothing in all Douglas's pow- 
 erful effort that appealed to the higher instincts of human 
 nature, while Lincoln always touched sympathetic chords. 
 Lincoln's speech excited and sustained the enthusiasm of 
 his audience to the end. When he had finished, two stal- 
 wart young farmers rushed on the platform, and, in spite 
 of his remonstrances, seized and put him on their shoulders 
 and carried him in that uncomfortable posture for a con- 
 siderable distance. It was really a ludicrous sight to see 
 the grotesque figure holding frantically on to the heads of 
 his supporters, with his legs dangling from their shoulders, 
 and his pantaloons pulled up so as to expose his underwear 
 almost to his knees. Douglas made dexterous use of this 
 incident in his next speech, expressing sincere regret that, 
 against his wish, he had used up his old friend Lincoln so 
 completely that he had to be carried off the stage. Lincoln 
 retaliated by saying at the first opportunity that he had 
 known Judge Douglas long and well, but there was never- 
 theless one thing he could not say of him, and that was that 
 the Judge always told the truth. 
 
 I was introduced to Lincoln at Freeport, and met him 
 frequently afterwards in the course of the campaign. I 
 must say frankly that, although I found him most ap- 
 proachable, good-natured, and full of wit and humor, I 
 could not take a real personal liking to the man, owing to 
 an inborn weakness for which he was even then notorious
 
 94 HENRY VILLARD [1858 
 
 and so remained during his great public career. He was 
 inordinately fond of jokes, anecdotes, and stories. He loved 
 to hear them, and still more to tell them himself out of the 
 inexhaustible supply provided by his good memory and his 
 fertile fancy. There would have been no harm in this but 
 for the fact that, the coarser the joke, the lower the anec- 
 dote, and the more risky the story, the more he enjoyed 
 them, especially when they were of his own invention. He 
 possessed, moreover, a singular ingenuity in bringing about 
 occasions in conversation for indulgences of this kind. I 
 have to confess, too, that, aside from the prejudice against 
 him which I felt on this account, I believed, with many 
 prominent leaders of the Republican party, that, with re- 
 gard to separating more effectively the antislavery North- 
 ern from the proslavery Southern wing of the Democracy, 
 it would have been better if the reelection of Douglas had 
 not been opposed. 
 
 The party warfare was hotly continued in all parts of 
 the State from early summer till election day in November. 
 Besides the seven joint debates, both Douglas and Lincoln 
 spoke scores of times separately, and numerous other speak- 
 ers from Illinois and other States contributed incessantly 
 to the agitation. The two leaders visited almost every 
 county in the State. I heard four of the joint debates, and 
 six other speeches by Lincoln and eight by his competitor. 
 Of course, the later efforts became substantial repetitions 
 of the preceding ones, and to listen to them grew more and 
 more tiresome to me. As I had seen something of political 
 campaigns before, this one did not exercise the full charm 
 of novelty upon me. Still, even if I had been a far more 
 callous observer, I could not have helped being struck with 
 the efficient party organizations, the skilful tactics of the 
 managers, the remarkable feats of popular oratory, and the 
 earnestness and enthusiasm of the audiences I witnessed. 
 It was a most instructive object-lesson in practical party 
 politics, and filled me with admiration for the Anglo- 
 American method of working out popular destiny.
 
 1858] LINCOLN-DOUGLAS DEBATES 95 
 
 In other respects, my experiences were not altogether 
 agreeable. It was a very hot summer, and I was obliged 
 to travel almost continuously. Illinois had then only about 
 a million and a half of inhabitants, poorly-constructed rail- 
 roads, and bad country roads, over which latter I had to 
 journey quite as much as over the former. The taverns in 
 town and country, as a rule, were wretched; and, as I 
 moved about with the candidates and their followers and 
 encountered crowds everywhere, I fared miserably in many 
 places. Especially in the southern part of the State, then 
 known as "Egypt" and mostly inhabited by settlers from 
 the Southern States, food and lodging were nearly always 
 simply abominable. I still vividly remember the day of 
 semi-starvation and the night with half a dozen roommates 
 I passed at Jonesboro', where the third joint debate took 
 place. 
 
 I saw more of Illinois than I have since seen of any other 
 State in the Union, and I acquired a thorough faith, based 
 on the immeasurable fertility of her prairies, in the great 
 growth that she has since attained. I also formed many 
 valuable acquaintances, a number of whom have continued 
 to this day. It was then that I first saw my lifelong friend 
 Horace White, who accompanied Mr. Lincoln as the repre- 
 sentative of the Chicago Tribune, and R. R. Hitt, the offi- 
 cial stenographer of the Republican candidate. He was 
 one of the most skilled shorthand writers in the country, 
 and his success as such led in due time to his appointment 
 as reporter of the United States Supreme Court. This 
 position he resigned for a successful career as diplomat 
 and Congressman. 
 
 I firmly believe that, if Stephen A. Douglas had lived, 
 he would have had a brilliant national career. Freed by 
 the Southern rebellion from all identification with pro- 
 slavery interests, x the road would have been open to the 
 highest fame and position for which his unusual talents 
 qualified him. As I took final leave of him and Lincoln, 
 doubtless neither of them had any idea that within two
 
 96 HENRY VILLARD [1858 
 
 years they would be rivals again in the Presidential race. 
 I had it from Lincoln's own lips that the United States 
 Senatorship was the greatest political height he at the time 
 expected to climb. He was full of doubt, too, of his ability 
 to secure the majority of the Legislature against Douglas. 
 These confidences he imparted to me on a special occasion 
 which I must not omit to mention in detail before closing 
 this chapter. 
 
 He and I met accidentally, about nine o'clock on a hot, 
 sultry evening, at a flag railroad station about twenty miles 
 west of Springfield, on my return from a great meeting at 
 Petersburg in Menard County. He had been driven to the 
 station in a buggy and left there alone. I was already 
 there. The train that we intended to take for Springfield 
 was about due. After vainly waiting for half an hour for 
 its arrival, a thunderstorm compelled us to take refuge in 
 an empty freight-car standing on a side track, there being 
 no buildings of any sort at the station. We squatted down 
 on the floor of the car and fell to talking on all sorts of 
 subjects. It was then and there he told me that, when 
 he was clerking in a country store, his highest political 
 ambition was to be a member of the State Legislature. 
 "Since then, of course," he said laughingly, "I have grown 
 some, but my friends got me into this business [meaning 
 the canvass], I did not consider myself qualified for the 
 United States Senate, and it took me a long time to per- 
 suade myself that I was. Now, to be sure," he continued, 
 with another of his peculiar laughs, "I am convinced that 
 I am good enough for it ; but, in spite of it all, I am saying 
 to myself every day : 'It is too big a thing for you ; you will 
 never get it.' Mary [his wife] insists, however, that I am 
 going to be Senator and President of the United States, 
 too. ' ' These last words he followed with a roar of laughter, 
 with his arms around his knees, and shaking all over with 
 mirth at his wife's ambition. "Just think," he exclaimed, 
 "of such a sucker as me as President!" 
 
 He then fell to asking questions regarding my antece-
 
 1858] LINCOLN-DOUGLAS DEBATES 97 
 
 dents, and expressed some surprise at my fluent use of 
 English after so short a residence in the United States. 
 Next he wanted to know whether it was true that most of 
 the educated people in Germany were "infidels." I an- 
 swered that they were not openly professed infidels, but 
 such a conclusion might be drawn from the fact that most 
 of them were not church-goers. " I do not wonder at that, ' ' 
 he rejoined; "my own inclination is that way." I ven- 
 tured to give expression to my own disbelief in the doctrine 
 of the Christian church relative to the existence of God, 
 the divinity of Christ, and immortality. This led him to 
 put other questions to me to draw me out. He did not com- 
 mit himself, but I received the impression that he was of 
 my own way of thinking. It was no surprise to me, there- 
 fore, to find in the writings of his biographers Ward Hill 
 Lamon and W. H. Herndon that I had correctly under- 
 stood him. Our talk continued till half-past ten, when the 
 belated train arrived. I cherish this accidental rencontre 
 as one of my most precious recollections, since my com- 
 panion of that night has become one of the greatest figures 
 in history. 
 
 I went from Jonesboro' to Chicago, and remained there 
 till after the election. I considered the outcome so uncer- 
 tain that I did not venture any predictions in my correspon- 
 dence. Douglas himself, I knew, was much in doubt; 
 Lincoln and his friends were very confident, and therefore 
 bitterly disappointed by the result.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE PIKE'S PEAK GOLD FEVER. 1858-9 
 
 THE real aim of my journalistic efforts was a regular 
 connection with the Anglo-American press. I re- 
 garded my work for the Staats-Z eitung as only a temporary 
 makeshift, and kept my ulterior object steadily in view. I 
 had given up the idea of securing a position on one of the 
 principal New York papers, and my desires bore upon the 
 Western press. During my sojourn in Ohio, I had daily 
 read the Cincinnati Daily Commercial and noticed the 
 ability and enterprise displayed in its columns. At a 
 venture I went to Cincinnati and offered my services to the 
 publisher of the Commercial, M. D. Potter. He referred 
 me to the news-editor, Murat Halstead, afterwards the 
 principal proprietor and editor-in-chief of the paper. 
 After a few talks with him, we agreed that I should report 
 the important proceedings at the impending sessions of the 
 Illinois and Indiana Legislatures for the Commercial. In 
 the former, I was to look after the reelection of Douglas. 
 In Indiana, I was to watch the legislative complications 
 that were expected to arise in connection with the claim 
 of each of the two political parties to the rightful control 
 of the majority of the Legislature, which resulted eventu- 
 ally in the election of two sets of United States Senators, 
 by the Republicans and the Democrats respectively. 
 
 I spent only a few days early in January, 1859, at 
 Springfield, Illinois, and then went to Indianapolis, where 
 I expected to remain till spring. But my stay was cut 
 short in an unexpected way. In my reports to the Com- 
 mercial I had occasion to criticise rather sharply one of 
 
 98
 
 1859] PIKE'S PEAK 99 
 
 the Democratic State Senators. The next day he rose to 
 a question of privilege, had the report read to the Senate, 
 denounced me in very violent language, and moved that 
 the usual press privileges be withdrawn from me, or, in 
 other words, that I be expelled from the floor. The motion 
 was carried, and it terminated my brief career as a legis- 
 lative reporter in the Indiana capital, during which I had, 
 however, formed some valuable acquaintances among In- 
 diana politicians. This was my first conflict as a journalist 
 with legislators, but not my last one. 
 
 During the fall and winter of 1858, reports of gold dis- 
 coveries in the easternmost chain of the Rocky Mountains, 
 in the vicinity of Pike's Peak and along the head waters 
 of the Platte River, began to circulate in the press and to 
 attract a great deal of attention throughout the country. 
 The "gold news" had roused my adventurous spirit before 
 my loss of employment, and now suddenly prompted the 
 idea of going to the Rocky Mountains as a correspondent. 
 There was a general hope that the opening of such new 
 sources of national wealth might bring relief to the coun- 
 try from the lingering effects of the crisis of 1857. Its 
 numberless victims the vast army of the unemployed 
 began to get excited, and the newspapers to state more and 
 more that great numbers were yielding to the allurements 
 of the new Dorado and preparing to seek it. 
 
 On my reaching Cincinnati from Indianapolis, Mr. Hal- 
 stead, who had vigorously defended me in the editorial 
 columns against the attacks of the Indiana Senator, very 
 readily responded to my suggestion that I should make an 
 investigation of the facts in the Pike's Peak case on the 
 spot for the Commercial. We agreed on the conditions of 
 my new engagement, which were to be twenty dollars a 
 week and reasonable travelling expenses. The length of 
 my stay in the Rocky Mountains should depend on the de- 
 velopments there. 
 
 It was natural that, at my age and with my sanguine 
 temperament, I should feel the highest elation at this, to
 
 100 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 my mind, most promising turn of luck. There was no 
 strong evidence that another California had actually 
 been discovered, but I had heard and read much of the 
 quick fortunes made in the gold-mines on the Pacific 
 Coast, and hence my imagination readily got the better of 
 my judgment, and, while reason protested, I indulged in 
 the contemplation of all sorts of fascinating possibilities 
 for myself. I had visions not only of successful gold-hunt- 
 ing, but of fame and fortune as one of the founders of 
 new towns and States. They were not to be realized in 
 the immediate future, but I think I can truly say that to 
 my apprenticeship as a pioneer in the Rocky Mountains I 
 owed the insight into practical life and the enterprise and 
 energy to which my successes later in my career were 
 largely due. In one respect certainly my anticipations 
 rested on reality, and that was in looking forward to ex- 
 traordinary personal adventures in the pursuit of my 
 mission. 
 
 At the time in question, a string of towns had sprung 
 up on the Missouri River, mainly in consequence of the 
 large Free-Soil immigration into the Territory of Kansas 
 as a result of the political events in 1854-5 within its 
 borders. There was a fringe of settlements, too, for from 
 thirty to fifty miles on each side of the river. But the 
 western parts of Missouri and Iowa were still very thinly 
 populated. Excepting these towns and settlements west 
 of the Missouri, the great rising plains between that river 
 and the Rocky Mountains now forming the States of 
 Kansas, Nebraska, Colorado, and Wyoming were, but for 
 a few trading-posts, absolutely uninhabited. There was 
 but one railroad then extending from the Mississippi to 
 the Missouri, from Hannibal to St. Joseph, Missouri. St. 
 Louis was connected with this line by the North Missouri 
 road. Railroad building in Iowa had not yet reached the 
 western part of the State. There was another road extend- 
 ing westward from St. Louis, but it was completed for only 
 about a hundred miles, to Jefferson City, the capital of the
 
 1859] PIKE'S PEAK 101 
 
 State, on the Missouri River. The only channels of com- 
 munication for the entire region west of the Missouri Eiver 
 to and beyond the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific States 
 were the Missouri River for steamboats, and the military 
 roads established by the United States Government that 
 along the Arkansas River to New Mexico, known as the 
 Santa Fe road, and those from Leavenworth and Omaha to 
 Fort Kearny, and thence as a common route along the 
 Platte and North Platte Rivers across the Rocky Moun- 
 tains to Utah and beyond. Ox- and mule-teams, propelling 
 heavy wagons holding from two to five tons, known as 
 ' ' prairie schooners, ' ' were the ordinary means of transpor- 
 tation along these highways. 
 
 After reading up in the public Mercantile Library as 
 well as possible regarding the region to be visited, in Gov- 
 ernment reports upon the explorations of Long, Pike, Fre- 
 mont, and others, I started from Cincinnati at the end of 
 February. I went to St. Louis and Jefferson City by rail, 
 and at the latter point took a boat up the Missouri to Leav- 
 enworth, my immediate destination, as the best starting- 
 point, according to common report, for "Pike's Peak." 
 As we made many landings, we were nearly thirty hours 
 in making the trip. The boat was crowded with "Pike's- 
 Peakers" (mostly young Western men) and their outfits. 
 The river scenery was rather picturesque, though without 
 any striking features, and much like that along the upper 
 Mississippi. We stopped an hour at Kansas City, which 
 was then nothing but a scattering village of a few dozen 
 buildings, including some brick warehouses along the bank. 
 It was the river landing for Westport, five miles inland, 
 right on the boundary of Missouri and Kansas, a town of 
 several thousand people, and famous throughout the West 
 as the principal outfitting and receiving point for the Santa 
 Fe or New Mexico trade. Every spring, large caravans of 
 "prairie schooners," consisting of from forty to eighty 
 wagons, each hauled by ten to twelve oxen or as many 
 mules, set out from that point laden with American goods,
 
 102 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 returning in the fall with full loads of Mexican wool, hides, 
 and silver bullion. The site of Kansas City was formed by 
 high and steep bluffs between which the streets extended. 
 More unfavorable ground for the development of a town, 
 not to speak of a city, could hardly be imagined; and if 
 anybody had then tried to make me believe that within 
 thirty years a city of 130,000 people would rise upon it, I 
 should have considered him a ridiculous phantast. Yet 
 this actually came to pass. 
 
 From Kansas City to Leavenworth the right bank of the 
 river became more animated. Every few miles an em- 
 bryo town appeared, beginning with Wyandotte at the 
 mouth of the Kansas River and followed by Sumner, 
 Doniphan, and several others whose names I do not remem- 
 ber. Most of them had but a brief, mushroom growth. 
 Leavenworth presented a surprisingly imposing sight. A 
 dozen steamboats were at the landing discharging and 
 receiving passengers and goods, and making a scene of 
 bustling activity. Above the levee, on a gradually ascend- 
 ing plateau, rose the town amphitheatrically. Though but 
 five years old, its resident population was already between 
 six and seven thousand, with a floating one of several thou- 
 sand more. The main business street was solidly built up 
 with brick and frame structures. The private residences 
 spread out widely over the beautiful parklike rolling prai- 
 rie with scattered natural groves of trees. The town was 
 swarming with new-comers, and I found it hard to get 
 lodgings anywhere. Over a thousand would-be "Pike's- 
 Peakers" had already arrived, and hundreds were added 
 daily to the number. All seemed as busy as they could be, 
 and I had never seen so much activity in a place of the 
 same size. Leavenworth seemed bound to become an im- 
 portant commercial centre, and the pretensions of Kansas 
 City as a rival looked as absurd to me as they did to the 
 denizens of Leavenworth. Yet Leavenworth soon stag- 
 nated, and even to-day hardly exceeds 20,000 in popula- 
 tion.
 
 1859] PIKE'S PEAK 103 
 
 I was well provided with letters of introduction, and 
 quickly made numerous acquaintances. I found also an 
 old one in John C. Vaughan, formerly one of the editors 
 of the Chicago Tribune, a most cultivated and polished 
 gentleman, but much addicted to drink. He, with his son 
 Champion, who afterwards had a most erratic career, was 
 in charge of the daily paper. As was natural, there was 
 an extraordinarily large proportion of active, bright young 
 fellows among the inhabitants, and they included an un- 
 usual percentage of professional men from the older 
 Western and the Eastern States, with many Harvard and 
 Yale graduates among them. All were eager to make their 
 fortunes and confident of making them quickly. Every one 
 was full of hope that plenty of gold would be found at 
 "Pike's Peak," which would surely lead to the rapid 
 growth of their town into a large city. The large outfitting 
 business already done with intending gold-seekers by the 
 merchants justified this theory. Many were getting ready 
 to go and see for themselves what promise of the precious 
 metals the Rocky Mountains really held out. 
 
 I made it at once my special object to gather whatever 
 information was obtainable as to past and present devel- 
 opments at Pike's Peak, and for that purpose not only 
 canvassed Leavenworth, but also visited other river towns 
 to the north of it, like Atchison and St. Joseph, which could 
 be easily reached by boat. It was difficult to glean a few 
 grains of fact from the piles of chaff of exaggeration and 
 outright fiction that I found everywhere. All the river 
 points, from Kansas City to Omaha, which had suffered 
 more than other parts of the country from the subsidence 
 of the speculative fever of 1855-7, saw a chance for a 
 rapid revival in the Pike's Peak excitement, and all were 
 working with might and main to feed it, through their 
 local papers and by every other means. The recklessness 
 with which these systematic efforts for enticing the public 
 were carried on bore bitter fruit, as I shall presently have 
 to relate.
 
 104 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 The following is the substance of what I ascertained and 
 reported to the Commercial. The first evidence of mineral 
 wealth in the South Platte country was obtained in 1848 
 by a party of civilized Cherokee Indians, who reached it 
 on a hunting expedition from the Indian Territory, and 
 brought home with them some specimens of quartz-bearing 
 gold. In due course of time, the news of their discovery 
 reached some members of the tribe in Georgia, their old 
 home. One Green Russell, who had been a gold-miner in 
 Georgia as well as in California, heard the story on his 
 return from the latter State, and in the spring of 1857 set 
 out from Georgia with a party of experienced miners to 
 investigate it on the ground. Untoward circumstances 
 compelled the expedition to winter in Western Missouri. It 
 resumed its march in February, 1858, up the Arkansas, 
 over the Santa Fe route. It reached the base of the Rocky 
 Mountains in May, and immediately commenced prospect- 
 ing for gold. Indications of it were found along the South 
 Platte and its tributaries, but nothing to justify regular 
 mining operations, in consequence of which the expedi- 
 tion dissolved, only nine of the original hundred remain- 
 ing with the leader. This remnant continued their ex- 
 plorations without satisfactory results, and finally camped 
 on Cherry Creek for the winter. In the spring of 1858, 
 Fall-Leaf, a Delaware Indian, appeared in Lawrence, 
 Kansas, with a small quantity of scale gold which he 
 claimed to have found at the head waters of the Arkansas. 
 This led to the formation of a party of young men who set 
 out in June, reached the base of Pike's Peak, explored the 
 country north and south of it without finding more than 
 the "color" of gold, and wintered also on Cherry Creek. 
 
 These expeditions led to the passage of an act by the 
 Kansas Legislature organizing the ' ' County of Arapahoe, ' ' 
 comprising the entire western part of the State to the 
 Rocky Mountains; the State limits in that direction never 
 having been defined. Later on, the Governor appointed 
 the officials of this vast county, which included territory
 
 1859] PIKE'S PEAK 105 
 
 enough for a State. Early in the fall of 1858, a public 
 meeting was held at Leavenworth to organize emigration 
 to the gold region. In the first week of October, a large 
 company of residents of Leavenworth commenced the pil- 
 grimage across the Plains. They took the Arkansas route, 
 reaching the base of the mountains by the middle of No- 
 vember. There they came up with the officers for Arapa- 
 hoe County, and persuaded them to push on with them to 
 the mouth of Cherry Creek. 
 
 Here they found the other parties already mentioned, as 
 well as about one hundred and fifty former residents of 
 Eastern Nebraska and Western Iowa, making several hun- 
 dred people, including two families. To this white popula- 
 tion there were added during the winter fluctuating num- 
 bers of New Mexicans of Spanish-Indian extraction, and 
 bands of Arapahoe Indians, who fortunately did not molest 
 the new settlers beyond begging victuals of them. With 
 true Western instinct, the first comers lost no time in 
 starting the business of town-making. Their camps were 
 spread over the bottom-land in the two angles formed by 
 Cherry Creek and the South Platte and the low bluffs 
 bordering them. On the left of Cherry Creek, a town site 
 was taken up and called Auraria, and on the right bank 
 another called Denver after the then Territorial Governor 
 of Kansas. On both sides all went to work with a will, and 
 during the winter about one hundred and twenty-five habi- 
 tations of all sorts and of the rudest description "dug- 
 outs," "adobes," log houses, and frame shanties, made 
 with axe and saw alone were put up, while many con- 
 tinued to occupy tents. The winter proved unexpectedly 
 mild, with but light snowfalls. Enterprising tradesmen 
 were among the settlers, and a few stores with limited sup- 
 plies, and mechanics' shops, and, of course, some saloons 
 also, were opened. 
 
 In spite of the most diligent search, I collected very little 
 direct proof of the existence of gold at Pike's Peak. I 
 felt warranted in saying through the columns of the Com-
 
 106 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 mercial that not over a thousand dollars' worth of wash- 
 gold had reached the Missouri River towns from the Rocky 
 Mountains. Green Russell arrived in Leavenworth during 
 the winter, and brought with him about seventy ounces 
 the fruits of the prospecting of himself and companions 
 during an entire summer. He was beset by eager ques- 
 tioners, but stated candidly that he found no conclusive 
 evidence of really rich diggings, and that the gold he had 
 with him paid him and his followers very poorly for the 
 time and trouble spent in gathering it. He frankly advised 
 against emigration on a large scale, but his warnings had 
 very little effect. 
 
 I learned that the enterprising firm of Russell, Majors 
 & Waddell, who did all the freight-carrying for the Gov- 
 ernment to the military posts on the Plains, had some time 
 before received, from an agent they had sent to the Rocky 
 Mountains to ascertain the facts, a report of so favorable 
 a character that they had decided to start a stage line to 
 Cherry Creek, and had already sent out mules to stock it. 
 I called on the firm, and was told by the manager that I 
 was correctly informed, and that they expected to be able 
 to start the first stage within a fortnight. From all the 
 information I had gathered, it was clear that, in the ab- 
 sence of all settlements for six-sevenths of the distance to 
 the foot of the Rocky Mountains, I had only the choice be- 
 tween the stage and joining a party provided with wagons 
 carrying camping equipage and supplies for a journey of 
 from five to seven weeks. The danger from the numerous 
 tribes of Indians roaming over the Plains had also to be 
 considered. To spend so much time on the way did not 
 suit me, and I decided to engage a seat in the first stage, 
 for which the firm, out of compliment to me as a news- 
 paper man, charged only half price. The travelling time 
 to Cherry Creek was to be only one week. 
 
 Having worked up for the Commercial all the material 
 procurable at Leavenworth, I decided to avail myself of an 
 opportunity for a trip to Southern Kansas offered me by
 
 1859] PIKE'S PEAK 107 
 
 the kind invitation of the United States District Attorney, 
 Alonzo G. Davis, a native of New York, to accompany him 
 on an official mission to Fort Scott. As we were to go on 
 horseback and camp by the way, I thought it would be a 
 good preparation for the trip across the Plains. We were 
 gone a week, during which I rode about one hundred and 
 eighty miles in the saddle. Not having been on a horse in 
 years, the first day's trip made me very sore, so that I had 
 no enjoyment, but constant discomfort and pain all the 
 way. Still, I stood it to the end without any suspicion of 
 my sufferings on the part of my companions. We travelled 
 over an unbroken stretch of rolling prairie of obviously 
 extraordinary fertility. Sometimes we did not see a house 
 for twenty miles, and we were guided most of the way by 
 the compass. We passed only two or three small clusters 
 of frame shanties, styled towns. Fort Scott proved to be 
 an old trading post with a score of houses around it. The 
 United States District Judge held court on two days, and 
 I had a chance to see justice administered under the most 
 primitive circumstances. There was no court-house, but 
 the Judge sat in a school-house equipped with the rudest 
 furniture. Both criminal and civil cases were tried. There 
 being no place to confine prisoners, the United States 
 marshal and his deputies had to keep them under constant 
 watch at the only wretched hotel in the place. The effort 
 to secure a jury failed entirely, owing to the scarcity of 
 settlers. 
 
 On my return I learned that, for various reasons, the 
 first stage of the "Leavenworth and Pike's Peak Express 
 Co.," as the new enterprise was called, would start a week 
 later than I had been told. There was, however, no further 
 postponement, and at the appointed time I got off, early in 
 the morning, amid the cheers of a crowd of at least a 
 thousand spectators, in one of the red-painted, canvas-cov- 
 ered vehicles, with three inside seats for three passengers 
 each, known as "Concord coaches," with four fine Ken- 
 tucky mules attached that started on a full run. Strange
 
 108 HENEY VILLARD [1859 
 
 to say, I was the only passenger, owing, no doubt, to the 
 high charges (two hundred dollars), the untried nature of 
 the line, the fear of Indian hostility, and, above all, to the 
 prevailing uncertainty as to the actual state of things at 
 Pike's Peak. 
 
 The first day, we followed the military road from Fort 
 Leavenworth to Fort Riley, reaching the valley of the Kan- 
 sas River after two hours' travel, and keeping in it right 
 along to the last-named point at the junction of the Kansas 
 and its main branch, the Republican River. We rolled on, 
 with many ups and downs, all day over a good dirt road 
 at the rate of eight to ten miles an hour, fresh animals 
 being taken on at regular stations from fifteen to twenty 
 miles apart. The warm spring day could not have been 
 finer. The undulating prairies looked beautiful in their 
 fresh verdure. Even twenty-five miles west from Leaven- 
 worth, farms became few and far between. We passed 
 a few new towns of very small dimensions, of which Man- 
 hattan, at the mouth of the "Blue" Fork, seemed the 
 most promising. We continued on till we reached Junction 
 City between nine and ten o'clock, where we stopped for 
 the night. We had made one hundred and thirty miles in 
 thirteen hours' actual driving a splendid record for the 
 first day. Fort Riley was within half a mile. It was gar- 
 risoned by several companies of cavalry and infantry, and 
 all the officers and at least a hundred men had turned out 
 to receive the first stage. The opening of the line was quite 
 an event in their monotonous life, especially as it promised 
 a daily instead of a weekly mail. I was invited to the offi- 
 cers' quarters, where I was regaled with eatables and 
 drinkables, and lodged for the night in a very comfortable 
 room. It was my last enjoyment of the luxury of a bed for 
 a long time. 
 
 We started again at six in the morning, escorted by half 
 a dozen cavalry officers, who kept us faithful and jolly 
 company to the next stage station, where they took a hearty 
 leave. Several of them I met again a few years later under
 
 1859] PIKE'S PEAK 109 
 
 circumstances that nobody dreamt of then, viz., in the field 
 during the Civil War. "We at once left the Kansas River 
 and turned in a northwesterly direction. There was a sort 
 of road for about two hundred miles further up the Kansas, 
 but the stage company had preferred to locate a new route 
 of its own, forming as direct a line as practicable to the 
 settlements at Cherry Creek, and crossing the head waters 
 of the various streams feeding Solomon Fork of the Kan- 
 sas Eiver, flowing southwardly, and t ( towards the end of 
 the route) some of the tributaries of the North Platte, 
 flowing northwardly. As the road passed from one di- 
 vide to another, and as the great Plains rose steadily some 
 five thousand feet from the Missouri River to the Rocky 
 Mountains, there were frequent and steep ascents and 
 descents. 
 
 The stage stations had been necessarily selected with 
 reference to water and grazing. They were simply small 
 camps of one large and several small tents manned by three 
 persons the station-keeper and an assistant, who took care 
 of the twelve mules with which each station was provided 
 for relays, and a male cook, who provided the meals for the 
 two others and the stage passengers. The large tent served 
 as sleeping- and dining-room for the latter, who were ex- 
 pected, as all travellers on the Plains did, to carry with 
 them their bedding that is, buffalo robes or blankets, 
 rolled up in a waterproof sheet. The mules were grazed 
 under guard in the daytime and picketed at night, when 
 they proved very annoying fellow-campers, as the inva- 
 riable close approach of prowling prairie-wolves kept them 
 in a panicky state. 
 
 The distance from Fort Riley to our destination was 
 about five hundred miles, which it took us six and one-half 
 days to make. There were twenty stations, and we made 
 from three to four a day. We set out at daylight, and it 
 took till dark to complete the prescribed daily run. There 
 was a travelled road for only the first twenty-five miles, and 
 for the rest of the long way we had to trust for guidance
 
 110 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 over the virgin ground to stakes and piles of stone and buf- 
 falo bones and dung erected by the locating party, and the 
 mule tracks left in stocking the stations. The stage had no 
 springs, and hence there was altogether too much jolting. 
 I got out at every ascent, but none the less became sore 
 and stiff, and was glad to stretch out on my blankets at the 
 end of each day's journey. My fatigue ensured the sound- 
 est sleep, notwithstanding the hardness of my couch. The 
 bracing prairie air, too, gave me an eager appetite for the 
 two meals a day to which we were limited from want of 
 time. The most magnificent weather favored us all the 
 way. 
 
 The first two days from Fort Riley we saw nothing but 
 a monotonous succession of plateaus, frequently broken 
 by ridges, with fringes of cottonwood trees indicating 
 water-courses. We knew that we were in a wilderness in- 
 habited only by Indians and wild beasts. Of the presence 
 of the latter, we had formal notice in the howling of wolves 
 all around us at night. On the third day, we observed that 
 the ordinary prairie grass had given way to the short, early 
 species known as buffalo grass, which had already attained 
 full growth. In the afternoon, the driver, as we came upon 
 a new, long-stretched-out plateau, suddenly shouted, ' ' Here 
 they are," and pointed with his whip at a long black line 
 ahead of us. We were, indeed, in sight of buffaloes. We 
 approached them apace, and, as we came nearer, one line 
 after another appeared before us, and we perceived that we 
 were going right among a large herd of the wild cattle of 
 the Plains. Soon their clumsy, shaggy bodies could be seen 
 in every direction, aggregating thousands of head, bulls 
 and cows, and hundreds of calves. They were not mixed 
 up in a common and great mass, but formed innumerable 
 files, as it were, each headed by a powerful bull. They 
 grazed very quietly, and our passage right through them 
 did not disturb them in the least, though we came within 
 twenty to thirty steps of several files. Only here and there 
 some of the calves took alarm and broke into their clumsy
 
 1859] PIKE'S PEAK 111 
 
 gallop. We had rifles with us, and could have brought 
 down numbers of them, but we forbore, as it would have 
 been a useless slaughter, the stations being well provided 
 with fresh meat. I had read of the steady pursuit of 
 buffalo herds by wolves, and now saw confirmation of it. 
 "We counted scores of a large light-gray species hover- 
 ing singly, like a chain of cowherd dogs, about the rear 
 of the herd, ready to swoop down upon any unlucky 
 laggard. 
 
 It took an hour to get through the herd. In the course 
 of the afternoon, we passed another, and enjoyed the same 
 spectacle repeatedly on the two following days. Some of 
 the drivers, who had passed a long time on the Plains, as- 
 serted that we had struck the advance-guards of the mil- 
 lions starting early in the year from Texas and following 
 the well-defined "buffalo range" to the British dominions 
 during the spring and summer, returning in the fall and 
 early winter. It was no exaggeration to say that we trav- 
 elled for days amid buffaloes. At the end of the fifth day, 
 we had passed beyond the belt of buffalo grass, and had 
 gradually reached an altitude of nearly four thousand feet, 
 the air steadily growing drier. Signs appeared that we 
 had entered a more arid stretch of country. The soil 
 turned gravelly. A species of short cactus began to pre- 
 vail. The streams became mere streaks of red sand, so that 
 water could be had only by digging for it. Willow bushes 
 took the place of the belts of cottonwood trees along them, 
 and finally even the willows disappeared. Prairie-dog 
 villages, guarded by their comical barking occupants, 
 abounded. Swarms of antelope came in sight, some of 
 which scampered off as soon as they saw the coach, [But 
 others fell under the charm, as the drivers said, of its red 
 color, and stood motionless while we came quite close to 
 them. It was a delight to breathe the dry, fresh, and 
 bracing air. The transparency of the atmosphere greatly 
 widened the range of vision, and brought forth one mirage 
 after another. Lakes lined with timber and dotted with
 
 112 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 islands appeared to right and left, while inverted mountain 
 chains inspired us with awe. The illusive effects were truly 
 wonderful. 
 
 Towards noon on the sixth day from Leavenworth, I 
 noticed afar off to the southwest what seemed to be at first 
 a cloud in a clear sky. I soon recognized it as a mountain 
 peak, and judged, from the direction, that it could be no 
 other than that named after Pike, the explorer. So it was, 
 the great landmark thus showing itself in the rare atmo- 
 sphere at a distance of not less than one hundred and fifty 
 miles. I felt quite exalted by the sight. Within a few 
 hours, another peak became visible to the northwest, which 
 I took to be the twin of the other, named after Pike's asso- 
 ciate Long. Before dark, many more summits directly to 
 the west loomed up, indicating the outlines of the main 
 chain of the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 An extraordinary incident occurred at the last night- 
 station. The man in charge related to us that five days 
 before, while hunting antelopes, he had suddenly discov- 
 ered, a few miles from the station, five bodies of white 
 men, four of them with broken skulls and otherwise muti- 
 lated. On closer examination, he found that there was still 
 life in the uninjured one. He hurried back to the station 
 for a wagon and fetched him into camp. It was evident 
 that want of food and drink had brought the survivor, 
 who was a very skeleton, to the point of death. Careful 
 nursing revived him so far that he was able to relate how 
 he got into his sad plight. He and twenty others, all from 
 Northern Illinois, had left Kansas City six weeks before for 
 Pike's Peak. They had, like so many others, foolishly con- 
 cluded, on the recommendations of some reckless news- 
 papers, to follow the example of the Mormon emigrants to 
 Utah in crossing the Plains with small carts moved by 
 hand. Thus equipped, they travelled up the Kansas River, 
 and got along rapidly and without mishap to the point, two 
 hundred miles west of Fort Riley, where the road ended. 
 Thence they undertook to cut across the country for Cherry
 
 1859] PIKE'S PEAK 113 
 
 Creek, pulling and pushing their carts and trusting to a 
 compass for guidance. After a few days they were caught 
 in a snowstorm lasting two days. They suffered intensely 
 from the exposure, became bewildered, and wandered at 
 random. Their provisions gave out, and, exhausted from 
 fatigue, hunger, and thirst, one after another dropped 
 down and was left to die alone in the wilderness. When 
 the survivors were reduced to twelve, brutalized by their 
 sufferings, they entered into a horrible compact that they 
 would live on each other, selected by lot. Some of the 
 victims shot themselves, while others were deliberately 
 killed by the remaining cannibals. The rescued man had 
 three brothers in the party, and admitted that he had sus- 
 tained himself on their bodies. Subsequent investigation 
 by myself and others proved that his story was true. He 
 was brought into Denver ten days later, physically recov- 
 ered, but his mind was affected. He insisted that his 
 name was Blue, while an inquiry at his home showed it to 
 be Green. 
 
 During our last day's drive, the view of the mountains 
 grew more and more imposing, as we gradually ascended 
 the last and highest plateau of the Plains, forming the 
 dividing ridge between the waters of the Kansas and of 
 the South Platte Kivers. At noon we had reached its very 
 crest, and there to the west and north and south one of 
 the grandest sights to be beheld anywhere in the world 
 was spread out before me. Between my standpoint and 
 the great range lay the basin of the South Platte, which 
 was clearly discernible with its half a dozen tributaries 
 from the west and east. The valley seemed from fifty to 
 seventy miles wide, though broken by many intervening 
 ridges. For three hundred miles, the mighty mountains 
 extended to the right and left, flanked on the south by the 
 great cones of Pike's Peak and the Spanish Peaks, and to 
 the north by the buttress-like form of Long's Peak. They 
 seemed to form an immense wall dividing the continent as 
 if by an impassable barrier. From their summits half-way 
 
 8
 
 1U 1 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 down, they were all covered with snow, and thence to their 
 base with unbroken forests. 
 
 The last fifty miles of our way formed a steady decline, 
 and we spun along at the rate of eight to ten miles an 
 hour. Just as the setting sun was gorgeously illuminating 
 the range, the stage made a final halt in front of the log- 
 house in Denver that represented the headquarters of the 
 stage company. Our coming was not expected, but the 
 glad intelligence that the first overland stage was arriving 
 spread instantly on both banks of Cherry Creek, and the 
 whole population quickly turned out to see it. We brought 
 a mail of several hundred letters and newspapers, the an- 
 nouncement of which fact drew three cheers for the Ex- 
 press Company. It was a great boon, the last news from 
 the Missouri River being nearly five weeks old. Of course, 
 I was the centre of attraction and overwhelmed with ques- 
 tions. Some one proposed that I should tell the news from 
 the "States" to them all, and I was made to mount a log 
 and entertain the audience for half an hour with what had 
 happened during the four weeks before my departure, for 
 which I got a vote of thanks, and which secured me at 
 once the good will of all the settlers.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 AT CHERRY CREEK. 1859 
 
 MY credentials from the company to their local rep- 
 resentative, Dr. J. M. Fox, solved at once the impor- 
 tant question where I should be able to secure satisfactory 
 board and lodging. The doctor offered to provide both 
 for me in the office-building at a low charge, and there I 
 lodged and took my meals during the next three months. 
 My host was a Missourian, about thirty years old, formerly 
 a medical practitioner, but for some years in the employ of 
 Russell, Majors & Waddell. He was a very intelligent and 
 resolute man, though somewhat inclined to lethargy. He 
 never failed in attentive kindness to me. More than twenty 
 years later, it was in my power to show him my gratitude 
 by taking him into my employ in various positions in Cali- 
 fornia, Oregon, and Montana, one of which he fills at this 
 writing. 
 
 Let me describe our abode. It had a splendid position 
 on the edge of a high bluff rising abruptly from the bed 
 of Cherry Creek, and commanding a grand view of the 
 mountains. It was the rudest sort of one-story cabin, 
 built of cottonwood logs, thirty feet long and fifteen wide, 
 and divided by a log partition into two equal compart- 
 ments, the front one being devoted to office purposes, and 
 the rear one used for cooking, eating, and sleeping. Its 
 roof consisted of logs covered with dirt and gravel. In- 
 gress was had through two doors without locks. It had no 
 windows of any sort; indeed, there was no window-glass 
 then or for months afterwards to be had on Cherry Creek. 
 If the outer light was wanted, the doors had to be left 
 open. Mother Earth furnished the floors, as no lumb'er 
 
 115
 
 116 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 of any sort was to be had. Nor had we any other resting- 
 place. Every night buffalo robes were spread on the 
 ground in the rear room, on which, with saddles and (later 
 on) hay for head-rests, we made ourselves comfortable. 
 The furniture consisted of a crude table made out of a 
 packing-box, with small casks serving as seats. Our cook 
 was a half-breed from New Mexico, speaking only Spanish. 
 His knowledge of the culinary art was not great, but, even 
 if it had been greater, it would not have done us much 
 good, inasmuch as his material to work with was very lim- 
 ited at first. Buffalo and antelope meat, bacon, canned 
 fruit, "flapjacks," and bread were for weeks our uniform 
 fare. Later, coffee, tea, canned vegetables, and potatoes 
 from New Mexico were added to it. The express messen- 
 gers and stage drivers shared our table and sleeping quar- 
 ters. A "corral" with the stages and mules was imme- 
 diately behind the building, the "long-ears" regularly 
 disturbing our rest by their plaintive outcries. 
 
 The hearsay description of Denver and Auraria proved 
 to be substantially correct; but Auraria, which occupied 
 the left bank of Cherry Creek down to the South Platte 
 River, was far ahead of Denver, which was laid out on 
 the right bank. It contained several dozen scattered habi- 
 tations of every sort, one- and two-story structures of 
 rough-hewn logs, combinations of dugouts and tents, 
 "adobes," and log walls with canvas roofs, interspersed 
 with wigwams. In Denver not over a dozen structures were 
 up. It seemed as though Auraria would surely get a 
 permanent start of its rival, but it turned out just the 
 other way. Auraria contained all the business places, in- 
 cluding some stores with very limited stocks, a tailor's, a 
 shoemaker's, and even a watchmaker's shop, and last, not 
 least, a printing-office, brought from Omaha, and started 
 but a few days before my arrival. From it a readable 
 weekly, the Rocky Mountain News, was already being is- 
 sued, that subsequently grew into a very flourishing and 
 influential concern and exists to this day under the same
 
 1859] CHERRY CREEK 117 
 
 title. Its then editor, William N. Byers, became a promi- 
 nent political character in the Territory and State of 
 Colorado. 
 
 As was natural, the people of the two towns consisted 
 almost exclusively of males from the several Western 
 States; the five women and seven children, all told, among 
 them were looked upon as curiosities. Very few, appar- 
 ently, were used to toil with their hands for a living, while 
 the others relied on their wits in the struggle for existence 
 as tradesmen, town speculators, and mining promoters, 
 with a sprinkling of followers of the professions of law 
 and medicine. 
 
 It took me but a few days to get acquainted with every- 
 body, and to collect and write up all the "gold" news there 
 was. There was not much of it, in fact; no additional 
 evidence of the existence of mineral wealth in the neighbor- 
 ing mountains had turned up for some months. Unmis- 
 takable and general discouragement consequently pre- 
 vailed. Dr. Fox had exerted himself to the utmost to 
 secure some placer and nugget gold for shipment by the 
 first return stage, but succeeded in getting only a score or 
 so of ounces, which was all there was in the two places. 
 There was shaking of heads and confidential admissions on 
 the part of the most intelligent men that the outlook was 
 almost hopeless. Still, the influx of gold-seekers con- 
 tinued. Every day, and at all hours of the day, they came 
 in from the East over the Platte route and from the South 
 over the Arkansas route, in trains of from three to twenty 
 wagons. The arrivals increased to several hundred a day, 
 and the unoccupied parts of the town sites were dotted 
 with the tents of the new-comers. Quite a number of 
 "hand-carters" were brought in by the wagon-trains, hav- 
 ing been picked up at various points on the Plains in the 
 direst distress. 
 
 The month of May came without any signs of improve- 
 ment. Hopelessness took possession more and more of 
 people's minds, and the general abandonment of the coun-
 
 118 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 try became the subject of frequent discussion. This dis- 
 pelling of all my confident and high-flown personal expec- 
 tations gave me also the "blues." In this mood of mind, 
 on the second Sunday in May, I was sitting in the Express 
 Office, in company with Dr. Fox and Joseph Heywood, 
 a well-known Californian, formerly of Cincinnati. We 
 were just discussing the unpromising aspect of affairs when 
 a short, slender, heavily-bearded individual, in miner's 
 garb, entered the room and inquired for letters. He was 
 invited to a seat, and soon got to talking about the re- 
 sources of the country. Contrary to expectation, he seemed 
 to believe firmly in its mineral wealth. Being asked for 
 his experience in the mountains, from which he claimed to 
 have just arrived, he stated, after a few moments of ap- 
 parent hesitation, that a little more than a week before, 
 while following up the north fork of Clear Creek, a tribu- 
 tary of the South Platte, in company with John H. Gregory 
 and several others, he had discovered gold-bearing dirt in 
 the vicinity of streaks of quartz rock, that ran over the 
 mountains, in a ravine adjoining the valley of the creek. 
 The dirt, he asserted, had yielded him as much as a dollar's 
 worth of gold to the pan. Perceiving a manifestation of 
 incredulity on the part of his listeners, he produced, in 
 corroboration of his statement, a bottle containing about 
 forty dollars' worth of flour gold, and also several frag- 
 ments of a hard substance which he designated as de- 
 composed gold-bearing quartz. Mr. Heywood stepped 
 out-doors with one of the pieces for the purpose of exam- 
 ining it with a magnifying-glass. He soon called out Dr. 
 Fox, whom he told that the specimen he held in his hand 
 was as fine quartz as he had seen in the richest quartz veins 
 in California. Several persons having, in the meantime, 
 entered the office and shown, upon hearing the miner's 
 tale, a disposition to doubt its truthf ulness, the latter grew 
 rather excited, repeated what he had said, and asserted 
 most emphatically that he would warrant one dollar to the 
 pan of dirt to any number of men who would follow him
 
 1859] CHERRY CREEK 119 
 
 to the locality in question; adding that they might bring 
 a rope along and swing him up in case he should be found 
 to be a liar. 
 
 This was the first news of the discovery of gold-bearing 
 quartz veins in the mountains to reach the Cherry Creek 
 towns. The gulch where the discovery was made took the 
 name of "Gregory Mine." The miner returned the next 
 day to the mountains, accompanied by several Auraria 
 men anxious to obtain confirmation of his story. No- 
 thing more was heard for several days, but, on the fifth, 
 one of the party, one Bates, formerly of Dubuque, Iowa, 
 returned, bringing with him a vial full of scale or placer 
 gold, equal to about five ounces, which he claimed to have 
 washed himself from thirty-nine pans of dirt obtained not 
 far from the spot where Gregory had found a "paying" 
 lode. Bates being known as a reliable man, his story found 
 general credence as he was taken from door to door to 
 repeat it. Exuberant hope took at once the place of the 
 prevailing despondency. Persons on the streets shouted 
 to each other : ' ' We are all right now, " " The stuff is here, 
 after all," "The country is safe," etc. 
 
 On the following day, a general exodus took place in the 
 direction of North Clear Creek. Whoever could secure 
 provisions enough for a stay in the mountains started off 
 without delay. Traders locked their stores, barkeepers set 
 out with their stock of whiskey, the few mechanics that 
 were engaged in building houses dropped their work. The 
 county judge and sheriff, lawyers and doctors, and even 
 the editor of the Rocky Mountain News, joined in the rush. 
 Naturally, I did not stay behind, but started out on a fine 
 mule, borrowed from the Express Company, with my bed- 
 ding strapped on behind, and with three days' supply of 
 hard bread and b'acon, and ground roasted corn, which, 
 mixed with water, furnished a very cooling and nourish- 
 ing beverage, much used in New Mexico. 
 
 The Gregory Gulch was, in an air line, not more than 
 thirty miles from Cherry Creek, but the only practicable
 
 120 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 route at the time was a roundabout one, measuring fully 
 fifty miles. The first sixteen miles were very easy. The 
 ground rose gradually for twelve miles to the so-called foot- 
 hills. I could keep my mule steadily on a trot over the 
 intervening natural meadows in their bright spring garb 
 of fresh grass and the greatest variety of high-colored 
 wild flowers. The foot-hills I found a range of elevations 
 to the height of ten hundred to fifteen hundred feet above 
 the prairie, covered with tuft grass and scattering pine, and 
 separated from the main range by a beautiful valley about 
 a mile wide. Riding up this valley for a couple of miles, 
 I reached Clear Creek, a turbulent mountain stream, about 
 fifty feet wide and four to six feet deep, with a powerful 
 current. My animal proved averse to trying the ice-cold 
 water, and I got him across only with great difficulty and 
 after swimming him down-stream for several hundred feet 
 and getting wet to the hips. A mile from the crossing, the 
 trail turned abruptly up a very steep mountain side, 
 rising to a height of at least two thousand feet above the 
 valley, to climb which my mule found a most arduous 
 task, taking several hours to accomplish. At least a hun- 
 dred other prospectors were toiling up at the same time, 
 some even trying to bring up wagons drawn by oxen. Once 
 up, the rest of the journey proved comparatively easy 
 over broad mountain tops, rich in grass and pine woods, 
 and I managed to reach my destination the same day just 
 about dark. I had a severe sick-headache during the whole 
 afternoon, and was obliged to stop several times because 
 of nausea. This was the effect of the high altitude be- 
 tween nine thousand and ten thousand feet above the level 
 of the sea which I felt several times afterwards on trips 
 through the mountains; but I finally got over it. I asked 
 my way to Gregory's camp, introduced myself, and begged 
 a place to lie down for the night. He complied at once, 
 and assigned me a corner of his tent. My animal required 
 no care, as he had had plenty of grass and water on the 
 way, and, after picketing him, I spread my blankets and 
 was asleep in a moment.
 
 1859] GREGORY GULCH 121 
 
 In the morning, I took in the situation in a few hours. 
 The "Gregory Mine" was located at an altitude of about 
 nine thousand feet, on the steep southern slope of a narrow 
 ravine, grass-grown and pine-covered, like all of the Rocky 
 Mountain world except the highest peaks. It was washed 
 by the head waters of the north fork of Clear Creek, 
 forming a brook not over six feet wide and two deep. Al- 
 though but two weeks had elapsed since Gregory had 
 washed out the first "pay dirt" in his pan, there were 
 already many scores of men busily engaged in ripping open 
 the mountain sides with pick and shovel. Dozens of huts 
 of pine branches had been erected and tents pitched. 
 Sluices, "long toms," and "rockers" were in full opera- 
 tion, ditches crossed the gulch, and slides were being con- 
 structedin short, the very picture of a busy, promising 
 mining camp was before me. One of the first things I did 
 was to induce Gregory a slight, wiry, red-haired, and 
 full-whiskered Georgian to relate to me his own experi- 
 ence as a gold-seeker. As he deserves to be remembered 
 as the Sutter of the Rocky Mountains, I will preserve his 
 statement as an original contribution to the history of the 
 State of Colorado by reproducing it here. 
 
 I left my former home in Gordon County, Ga., in August of 
 last year, for the purpose of going overland to the Frazer Eiver 
 mines in British Columbia. Various untoward circumstances de- 
 tained me en route, and I felt obliged to winter at Fort Laramie [a 
 military post about 250 miles to the northwest of Cherry Creek]. 
 While there, the news of the discovery of gold on the South Platte 
 reached me. I thereupon determined not to go further West, but 
 to make for Pike's Peak. I set out from Fort Laramie early in 
 February, and prospected extensively as I travelled along the base 
 of the mountains. Not finding any trace of gold, I pushed on till 
 I reached the mouth of Clear Creek where the town of Arapahoe 
 was springing up. Here I made up a party of fifteen, and we 
 started up Clear Creek. After toiling for several days up the canon, 
 we left the main stream and followed a branch coming in from the 
 north. Near its sources we found indications of quartz veins 
 streaking the sides of the gulch down which it flowed. We speed- 
 ily uncovered and opened one of them with our picks and shovels.
 
 122 HENRY VILLAED [1859 
 
 After removing the surface rock to the depth of several feet, we 
 came upon a ' pocket ' containing a dirt-like, decayed rock, which 
 on being taken to the creek and washed, yielded four dollars to the 
 pan. We were sure then that we had found what we were after. 
 All our party at once staked off and opened claims on the same 
 lead, and commenced work in dead earnest. We were first pre- 
 vented by ice and snow from working regularly, but for a week 
 the weather has been warm enough. A great many, as you see, 
 have tracked us to the gulch and taken up claims on other veins 
 and are working them. 
 
 I spent nearly a week in Gregory Gulch, enjoying the 
 hospitality of the miners. I visited every "lead" and 
 "claim" then opened, witnessed the digging, hauling, and 
 washing of "pay-dirt," washed out many a pan myself, 
 saw the gold in the riffles of the sluices, and was daily pres- 
 ent when the workers caught the quicksilver used to 
 gather the fine gold from the sluices and heated it in re- 
 torts into gold-charged cakes. Thoroughly convinced by 
 all this ocular evidence that the new Dorado had really 
 been discovered, I returned to Denver, and felt justified in 
 spreading this great news with all the faith and emphasis 
 of conviction. 
 
 A perceptible change had already taken place in 
 the Cherry Creek towns. Building was being resumed. 
 Tradesmen and mechanics were busy. Gold from Clear 
 Creek began to circulate. The caravans of new-comers 
 from the East made direct for the mountains. Several 
 large trains loaded with miscellaneous provisions and mer- 
 chandise had arrived and reduced somewhat the ruling 
 enormous prices for necessaries, as, twenty-five cents a 
 pound for flour, forty to fifty cents for sugar, five dollars 
 a bushel for corn, etc. In short, a general stir and bustle 
 had taken the place of stagnation. 
 
 About a week after my return from the mountains, a 
 notable event occurred in the arrival of Horace Greeley, 
 the famous editor of the New York Tribune, accompanied 
 by Albert D. Richardson, a well-known correspondent of
 
 1859] GREELEY IN THE ROCKIES 123 
 
 the Boston Journal. They came in one of the express 
 stages, and had met with a singular and perilous accident. 
 In driving through a herd of buffaloes, the animals, proba- 
 bly maddened at the sight of the red color of the coach, had 
 attacked and upset it. Greeley had received a severe cut 
 below his right knee, crippling him for several weeks, and 
 both journalists were bruised all over. They found quar- 
 ters in the Denver House, the only "hotel" in Denver, that 
 had been got ready for the reception of guests just before 
 their arrival. 
 
 This establishment was about sixty feet long and thirty 
 wide. Its four sides consisted of rough-hewn logs. It 
 had a slanting, skeleton roof covered with canvas. In the 
 interior were neither floors, nor ceilings, nor walls, nor 
 solid partitions to divide the space; but canvas nailed on 
 frames served to set it off for different purposes to the 
 height of seven feet. The front part was occupied by a bar 
 for the sale of strong drinks only, and a dozen gambling- 
 tables, at which various games were conducted by experts 
 in the profession. Several individuals who had been hang- 
 ing about the towns, and whom I had taken to be men 
 of means awaiting their chances for a respectable use of 
 their money, appeared in this part. Next to the bar-room 
 came another space, enclosed by canvas partitions, where 
 the meals were served. Immediately behind it, six apart- 
 ments for sleeping-purposes, divided only by the same light 
 material, were set off on each side of a passage. Outside, 
 at the end of the building, the kitchen, presided over by 
 a white male cook, was carried on under canvas. There 
 was no furniture but the gambling- and other tables and 
 benches and chairs, made out of rough boards. Bed- 
 steads were provided of the same material, without mat- 
 tress or pillows, and also tin wash-basins, which the guests 
 themselves filled out of barrels of water standing in the 
 passageway, and emptied, after use, on the dirt floor. 
 
 Altogether, that hotel was a unique institution, and, of 
 course, without comfort or quiet. In the absence of ceil-
 
 124 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 ings and with the thin partitions, a sound in any part 
 of the building was heard all over it. Greeley was carried 
 into this hostelry he could not use his wounded leg and 
 put into one of the sleeping-chambers described. The 
 "Tribune philosopher," as he was known to the entire 
 American public, had naturally a most gentle temper, which 
 he lost only on rare occasions and under the greatest provo- 
 cation. His benign countenance, indeed, usually wore an 
 expression typical of resignation and forbearance. But, 
 what with the pain of his wound and the endless racket in 
 the place during the entire twenty-four hours, and the spe- 
 cial irritation produced upon the apostle of strict temper- 
 ance and good morals generally by the drinking and gam- 
 bling going on day and night within a few feet of him, those 
 Christian virtues gradually lost their control over him. I 
 called on him several times a day, and noticed this change 
 of temper distinctly. It gradually expressed itself in 
 swearing at his disturbers so violently that I dared not be- 
 lieve my ears. His wrath culminated on the third night of 
 his tortures. I was fortunate enough to be with him, and 
 thus became an eye- and ear-witness of what happened. 
 About ten o'clock he got up, and insisted on limping to 
 the bar-room. His appearance, though his presence in the 
 building was generally known, created surprise and in- 
 stant silence. He begged for a chair, and, "Friends," 
 said he, "I have been in pain and without sleep for almost 
 a week, and I am well-nigh worn out. Now I am a guest 
 at this hotel, I pay a high price for my board and lodging, 
 and am entitled to rest during the night. But how can I 
 get it with all this noise going on in this place?" Then 
 he addressed one of the most pathetic appeals I ever heard 
 to those around him to abandon their vicious ways and 
 become sober and industrious. He spoke for nearly an 
 hour, and was listened to with rapt interest and the most 
 perfect respect. He succeeded, too, in his object. The 
 gambling stopped, and the bar was closed every night at 
 eleven o'clock as long as he remained.
 
 1859] GREELEY IN THE ROCKIES 125 
 
 Another anecdote connected with Greeley's stay in-. 
 Denver occurs to me. A German barber, plying his art 
 there, who styled himself Murat, and claimed to be a de- 
 scendant of the King of Naples, was called in to shave 
 Greeley, and, when he had finished the job and was asked 
 for his charge, coolly named two dollars and a half as the 
 regular price for shaving outside of his shop. Greeley gave 
 him a bland look, pulled out his purse, and handed him 
 the money, saying: "Well, I guess I can afford to pay 
 something for the privilege of getting scraped by royal 
 hands. ' ' 
 
 After resting a few days longer, Mr. Greeley felt strong 
 enough to undertake 'a trip to the Gregory mines, and I 
 volunteered to conduct him and his companion there. He 
 had not ridden an animal in twenty-five years, and dreaded 
 the necessity of doing so, but finally made up his mind to 
 it. We drove in a wagon as far as Clear Creek, and there 
 mounted three mules. I led the file into the creek, my 
 companions following me without hesitation. The water 
 was at least a foot higher than when I last crossed, and 
 my animal began swimming at once, wetting me up to 
 the waist. The other beasts imitated mine. Greeley was 
 a sight to behold. Alarmed by the sudden immersion of his 
 mule, he had first raised his legs in order to avoid getting 
 wet. This movement made him lose his balance, and, to 
 steady himself, he threw his arms around the animal's 
 neck. The mule did not like the embrace, and commenced 
 struggling against it and taking his rider down-stream. 
 I took in the situation on reaching the other side, galloped 
 down the creek, and, reentering it, managed to seize 
 Greeley's bridle and pull him along the bank. The rider's 
 face bore an indescribable expression of fear mingled with 
 mirth at himself. As he came up on the bank, dripping 
 all over, a number of gold-seekers who had watched us 
 gave him three rousing cheers, which brought back the 
 characteristic smile to his countenance. 
 
 On reaching Clear Creek on our return trip, Greeley
 
 126 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 positively refused to swim across it again on his mule. As 
 he said of himself, ' ' The starch was completely taken out of 
 me by my three days' rough experience, and I had neither 
 strength nor heart for the passage." It turned out that 
 he was very wise in his refusal, for, as his mule was being 
 led across, the saddle-girth broke, and everything it bore, 
 including sleeping-blankets, dropped into the water and 
 was lost. The following passage from a letter of his to the 
 Tribune refers to an accident that befell me suddenly be- 
 tween Clear Creek and Denver: 
 
 An accident, which might have proved serious, happened to a 
 member of our party, Mr. Villard of the Cincinnati Commercial. 
 Riding some distance ahead of us, he was thrown by his mule's 
 saddle slipping forward and turning him so that he fell heavily on 
 his left arm, which was badly bruised, and thence dragged a rod 
 with his heel fast in the stirrup. His mule then stopped, but, when 
 I rode up behind him, I dared not approach him, lest I should 
 start his animal, and waited for the friend who, having heard his 
 call for help, was coming up in front Mr. Villard was released 
 without further injury, but his arm is temporarily useless. 
 
 I had, in fact, to carry the injured arm in a sling for sev- 
 eral weeks. 
 
 Greeley, Richardson, and I united in a statement to the 
 public regarding the then actual mining developments. It 
 was prepared in perfect good faith, and based strictly on 
 facts observed by the signers themselves. Greeley 's po- 
 litical opponents, nevertheless, made it the subject of ridi- 
 cule and abuse of him for a long time. His inveterate 
 enemy, the senior James Gordon Bennett, especially at- 
 tacked him for it in the New York Herald. The assertions 
 that we had allowed ourselves to be misled and swindled, 
 became so persistent that the leading miners subsequently 
 published sworn statements testifying to the correctness of 
 our account. The steadily growing proof of the existence 
 of great mineral wealth in the Rocky Mountains trium- 
 phantly sustained us in the end.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 FROM THE ROCKIES TO THE MIDDLE WEST. 1859-60 
 
 MY personal prospects were now assured, at least to 
 the extent of a continuance of my engagement on 
 the Commercial during the summer and fall. "Pike's 
 Peak" was the all-absorbing topic in the press throughout 
 the United States, and news from there was eagerly sought 
 by editors and publishers. Several other correspondents 
 appeared successively on the field, but I had a great ad- 
 vantage over them through my early advent and my know- 
 ledge of the country. 
 
 The influx of wanderers across the Plains in search of 
 riches grew steadily greater as the summer advanced. Not 
 less than fifty to sixty thousand fortune-hunters reached 
 the Rocky Mountains before the first of September. 
 Within a few weeks, from four to five thousand had 
 crowded into the Gregory and adjoining gulches. The 
 overflow then found its way along other water-courses to 
 the north and south, and even up to and over the highest 
 range, to the region watered by the Grand and Green 
 Rivers. Thousands followed the South Platte to its sources, 
 and thence reached the western slope through the Ute 
 Pass. In fact, before the next winter set in, the greater 
 part of the territory now included in the boundaries of the 
 State of Colorado had been journeyed and worked over, 
 and in many places permanent mining-camps established. 
 Almost every day, reports of new "strikes" in various 
 parts of the mountains reached the Cherry Creek towns. 
 As soon as they were sufficiently confirmed to warrant it, 
 I set out to verify them on the spot. Thus I was "on the 
 go" the greater part of the time. I usually joined pro- 
 
 127
 
 128 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 specters who had made original discoveries and come to 
 Cherry Creek to obtain supplies and implements for devel- 
 oping them. But several times also I started out with ex- 
 ploring parties without any definite destination. I likewise 
 revisited established mining-camps, like Gregory's, at in- 
 tervals. In this way the range of my observations ex- 
 tended from Long's Peak to Pike's Peak on the eastern as 
 well as on the western slope of the mountains. I crossed 
 and recrossed the main crest of the mountains repeatedly. 
 I visited those beautiful, all but circular valleys, consisting 
 of mountain meadows dotted with pines singly and in 
 groups, traversed by rushing mountain-streams and sur- 
 rounded by snow-capped mountains, known as the South, 
 Middle, and North Parks. These trips, while involving 
 sometimes great hardships, never failed to be enjoyable 
 from beginning to end. I think of them even now with 
 rekindled enthusiasm. The contact with primitive nature 
 in its sublimest forms had something inspiring. We trav- 
 elled every day just as long and as far as we liked. We 
 took ample time for everything for admiring natural 
 wonders, for enjoying the scenery, for fishing and hunt- 
 ing, and for prospecting. The streams were full of trout 
 and the valleys of elk and deer. We frequently met great 
 herds of elk. We always slept on the ground and such 
 restful sleep we had, from ten to twelve hours every night ! 
 I could name half a dozen flourishing Colorado towns on 
 the sites of which I camped before they were even "taken 
 up." We did our cooking by turns, and rich feasts we had 
 on trout and game. Altogether, I was always sorry when 
 my journalistic duties compelled me to return to Cherry 
 Creek to work up new material into my regular reports. 
 Yet, in Denver and Auraria, life was also growing from 
 day to day more active, varied, and interesting. They both 
 made astonishing strides. A number of portable saw-mills 
 had arrived, and were furnishing an ample supply of 
 building-material. Hardware for buildings and ready- 
 made windows and doors were also landed by the wagon-
 
 1859] CHERRY CREEK 129 
 
 load. Skilled mechanics became numerous. The quick 
 means of transit from the Missouri by the stage company 
 the time had been reduced to six days also brought a 
 considerable accession of capitalists. In every direction 
 the business of pushing the towns forward was pursued 
 with remarkable energy by midsummer. New buildings 
 were started every day, and their character steadily im- 
 proved. The original site of Auraria had been taken up 
 b'y Nebraska men, that of Denver by the party which had 
 come out in consequence of the Leavenworth meeting al- 
 ready mentioned. No Government survey having ever been 
 made, this "taking up" was really squatting at random. 
 The "squatters" had no little trouble in protecting their 
 claims from "jumpers.'' As was to be expected, the mo- 
 ment the future of the country seemed assured, "addi- 
 tions" to the town site were staked off for miles from its 
 boundaries to the four points of the compass. The Denver 
 Company originally consisted of twelve members, each 
 holding an equal undivided interest. "General" Larimer, 
 originally from Pittsburg and afterwards a resident of 
 Leavenworth, was the leading spirit. In consideration of 
 my having written up the country so assiduously, I was 
 given a one-forty-eighth interest in the association. (It 
 may as well be mentioned here that I helped to locate and 
 b'ecame part owner of other town sites in different parts 
 of the country.) 
 
 By the end of August, there were fully five thousand 
 people settled on Cherry Creek, including at least one hun- 
 dred families. Long before that time, the necessity of 
 protecting the real and personal property of the inhabi- 
 tants had led to the formation of town governments. Al- 
 though the population was drawn from every part of the 
 United States it would not be too much to say from 
 every quarter of the globe it was remarkably respectable 
 and orderly. I do not hesitate to assert that the percent- 
 age of vicious elements, gamblers, thieves, murderers, and 
 bad women, was never so large there as in other mining
 
 130 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 towns in California, Nevada, and Montana. Interference 
 with property and injuries to persons were not frequent, 
 but it was practically impossible to bring offences against 
 either to punishment, owing to the total lack of courts 
 and jails. It was therefore not surprising that Judge 
 Lynch had to be finally appealed to for order and safety. 
 Banishment and hanging were about the only practicable 
 punishments. Yet, during the summer and fall, only fif- 
 teen men and women were given notice to leave the coun- 
 try, and only two men hung for murders committed in 
 gambling- and bawdy-house brawls. I witnessed one of the 
 executions. The subject was a fine-looking young man, 
 not over twenty-three, of respectable parentage, great in- 
 telligence, and fine education, but brought to this terrible 
 end by drink and other bad habits. He admitted that he 
 deserved to die, and met his doom very bravely. 
 
 By the latter part of the summer, the two towns con- 
 tained several hotels with more or less "modern" improve- 
 ments, two scores of stores, numerous mechanics' shops, at 
 least one hundred doctors' and lawyers' offices, and other 
 evidences of advancing civilization, besides great numbers of 
 drinking- and gambling-saloons. Several excellent eating- 
 houses were also opened, in which very good meals without 
 lodging could be had at moderate prices that is, at 
 seventy-five cents a meal (instead of from one and a half 
 to two and a half dollars). The Express Company had 
 moved into a new building some time before, and I had 
 found board and lodging elsewhere. I must not forget to 
 relate an exciting experience we had before the removal 
 of the Express Office from the original log-building. The 
 company made a business of bringing letters from the 
 East, for carrying which they charged twenty-five cents 
 each, following in this a practice common in California 
 and other mining States. At first the charge was willingly 
 paid, but, as the population grew larger, grumblings began 
 to be heard that gradually swelled into general and loud 
 dissatisfaction and violent attacks in the press on the "ex-
 
 1859] CHERRY CREEK 131 
 
 tortion" of the Express Company. The agitation culmi- 
 nated in indignation meetings and the passage of resolu- 
 tions denouncing the Company and threatening the use 
 of force to compel a more reasonable charge. For several 
 days crowds gathered in front of and inside the Express 
 Office on the arrival of stages, demanding their letters 
 without offering to pay anything. I stood by my friend, 
 the Express Agent, behind the counter, and it looked twice 
 as though he would have occasion to defend himself 
 against violence. Fortunately, a compromise was reached, 
 in pursuance of which the charge was reduced to ten cents. 
 It was done away with altogether when, before the end 
 of the summer, the Government entered into a contract 
 with the Company for the transportation of the mails. 
 
 Late in the summer, the arrivals from the East almost 
 ceased and a return tide set in that is, a homeward mi- 
 gration which steadily gained in numbers, so that, in the 
 early fall, it looked as though the country would rapidly 
 lose most of its population. This was not surprising, for 
 four out of every five of the immigrants had come without 
 means, and in the expectation that, by the simple use of 
 their hands and ordinary implements, they could quickly 
 gather fortunes from placer diggings. But the truth was, 
 that the alluvial auriferous deposits were very limited and 
 quickly exhausted, and that the precious metals in the 
 Rocky Mountains were buried in veins of quartz and ga- 
 lena, the successful working of which required capital 
 and costly mechanical appliances that had to be brought 
 from the East. Only a few small quartz-mills had been 
 hauled across the Plains and set up in the mountains. Un- 
 avoidably, under the circumstances, the bulk of the gold- 
 seekers were doomed to disappointment, and sought their 
 way back to the States as best they could. It turned 
 out that the entire yield in gold and silver in 1859 from 
 the Pike's Peak region did not exceed three-quarters of a 
 million, while many millions had been sunk in outfits and 
 wasted labor to secure this meagre result.
 
 132 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 My faith in the future of the country remained un- 
 shaken, but, with the advance of the fall, I was obliged to 
 consider the question whether I should remain during the 
 winter or return to the East. It was evident that, when- 
 ever snowfall and the freezing up of the streams should 
 compel the cessation of mining operations in the moun- 
 tains, general dulness would set in and with it a great 
 dearth of news, so that I could hardly expect the Commer- 
 cial to continue my allowance for services. On the other 
 hand, I liked the climate and the pioneer life; and then, 
 too, I had some property interests, as explained. After 
 some weeks of doubt, I was helped to a decision in favor 
 of passing the winter east of the Missouri by a scheme that 
 suddenly dawned upon me and that could be carried out 
 only there. It was to embody my observations and expe- 
 riences in a book that should be also a guide to the Pike's 
 Peak region for the new tide of gold-seekers that I felt 
 sure would set in again with the coming spring. I sub- 
 mitted the idea to my friends among the leading business 
 men, who thought very highly of it and promised me their 
 support by subscribing for numbers of copies and other- 
 wise. 
 
 Accordingly, I made up my mind to start back, taking 
 the Platte route in the last week of October. A short time 
 before my departure, I received an offer for my interest 
 in the Denver town company, viz., twelve hundred dollars 
 in money, a gold watch, a wagon with two horses, and a 
 rifle ! The proposal was very tempting, for the town lots 
 had cost me nothing, and the amount of cash seemed im- 
 posingly large to me, who had never had more than one- 
 tenth of it at my disposal at one time. I had had no expe- 
 rience in such matters, and lacked all speculative instinct, 
 and, being young and very self-confident, did not really 
 care much for money beyond my current requirements. 
 The wagon and team were just then an especially attractive 
 consideration, as their ownership would solve for me the 
 problem how to travel across the Plains. Hence I ac-
 
 1859] EASTWARD FROM DENVER 133 
 
 cepted after brief hesitation. The outfit for the journey 
 was quickly completed. I secured two passengers, who 
 paid thirty dollars each for the ride of six hundred and 
 fifty miles in the ordinary farmer's wagon. It was just 
 enough to pay for the provisions of the party, and for 
 a few bushels of corn which I took along by way of pre- 
 caution for the horses. We left Denver early on the morn- 
 ing of October 29. My fixed determination at the time 
 was to return early in the spring, but it was only after 
 the lapse of fully seventeen years that I saw the place 
 again, and then only in consequence of a most extraordi- 
 nary turn in the wheel of my personal fortunes. 
 
 We followed what had become the great highway for 
 the Pike's Peak travel, down the South Platte to its junc- 
 tion with the North Platte, and thence along the main 
 river as far as Fort Kearny, where we left it, going in 
 a southeasterly direction over the military road leading to 
 Fort Leavenworth. With the exception of some sandy 
 stretches of several miles each, the road was hard and 
 level nearly the whole distance to Fort Kearny, so that 
 we could make from twenty-five to thirty miles a day with- 
 out over-fatiguing the horses, which proved excellent 
 roadsters. The vast numbers of animals that had passed 
 over the same route during the summer, had left not a spear 
 of green or dry grass in the Platte valley, but happily 
 a number of "ranches" had sprung up where hay could 
 be had, though at a high price. There was also an abso- 
 lute scarcity of firewood, and we had to cook our meals 
 by the use of "buffalo chips" (dry dung) that we col- 
 lected in bags some distance from the river. My compan- 
 ions were very helpful in taking care of the horses and 
 preparing our morning and evening repasts, and altoge- 
 ther we got along capitally. We slept in and under the 
 wagon, wrapped in our buffalo robes and blankets, with the 
 horses picketed next to it. Splendid weather favored us 
 until we were within a day's travel of Fort Kearny, when 
 a snowstorm came upon us in the night that compelled us
 
 134 HENRY VILLARD [1859 
 
 to lie still for thirty hours. Of course, cooking was out 
 of the question, and we were reduced to bacon and "hard- 
 tack." The horses were kept well blanketed, and fed with 
 corn. When the storm ceased, there was eighteen inches 
 of snow on the ground, but the warm sun made it melt 
 rapidly. 
 
 We replenished our supplies, as far as necessary, at 
 Fort Kearny a trading and military post with three 
 companies of cavalry and pushed on as fast as possible 
 (forewarned, as we had been by the snowstorm, of the 
 season of blizzards) over the remaining one hundred and 
 eighty miles to St. Joseph on the Missouri, our destination. 
 We reached the first settlements at Marysville, an embryo 
 town eighty miles from Fort Kearny, on the Blue River, 
 after a three days' drive. Here we found decent hotel 
 accommodations and good stabling for the horses, at moder- 
 ate Eastern prices. From this point on, our hardships 
 were at an end, nice roadside inns being situated at conve- 
 nient distances all the way. About thirty miles from St. 
 Joseph an extraordinary incident occurred. A buggy with 
 two occupants was coming towards us over the open prairie. 
 As it approached, I thought I recognized one of them, and, 
 sure enough, it turned out to be no less a person than 
 Abraham Lincoln! I stopped the wagon, called him by 
 name, and jumped off to shake hands. He did not recog- 
 nize me with my full beard and pioneer's costume. When 
 I said, "Don't you know me?" and gave my name, he 
 looked at me, most amazed, and then burst out laugh- 
 ing. "Why, good gracious! you look like a real Pike's- 
 Peaker." His surprise at this unexpected meeting was 
 as great as mine. He was on a lecturing tour through 
 Kansas. It was a cold morning, and the wind blew cut- 
 tingly from the northwest. He was shivering in the open 
 buggy, without even a roof over it, in a short overcoat, and 
 without any covering for his legs. I offered him one 
 of my buffalo robes, which he gratefully accepted. He 
 undertook, of course, to return it to me, but I never saw it
 
 1860] PIKE'S PEAK GUIDE 135 
 
 again. After ten minutes' chat, we separated. The next 
 time I saw him he was the Republican candidate for the 
 Presidency. 
 
 We reached St. Joseph the next day, having been only 
 twenty-four days from Denver a very quick trip under 
 the circumstances. I concluded not to place my team in 
 winter quarters, but to sell it, though I obtained only a 
 very low price for it, and then I took the first train for St. 
 Louis and Cincinnati. In both places I was a sort of at- 
 traction, and received a good deal of attention, especially 
 in business and newspaper circles, and spent some weeks 
 very agreeably. 
 
 Towards the close of the year, I commenced work upon 
 my proposed book upon the Pike's Peak region. The 
 bulk of the material I needed was already in my posses- 
 sion, but the collection of additional data to give it a reli- 
 able character as a "guide" was necessary. Moreover, in 
 order to ensure pecuniary success, I decided to make a 
 regular canvass for subscriptions among the business men 
 of St. Louis and Chicago and the Missouri River towns. 
 Accordingly, I visited all those places, and had reason to be 
 satisfied with the result. I secured not only subscriptions 
 for about ten thousand copies, but a good many advertise- 
 ments to be printed on fly-leaves at the end of the book. 
 This preliminary work being accomplished, I settled down 
 at a St. Louis hotel for the preparation of the manuscript 
 early in February, and by the middle of March it was 
 ready for the printer. 
 
 My venture was indisputably a legitimate one from 
 every point of view, and it really promised very satisfac- 
 tory results. Indeed, the aid already secured justified the 
 expectation of a profit of at least several thousand dollars, 
 and this prospect filled me with great buoyancy of spirit. 
 But all my fond hopes were to remain unfulfilled. In 
 an evil hour, I was led to contract for printing the book 
 and lithographing the accompanying maps with a firm 
 whose business it was to publish city and town directories
 
 136 HENRY VILLARD [1860 
 
 all over the West. The firm seemed to have a good stand- 
 ing, and certainly had all the requisite printing facilities. 
 When the book was about half done, however, the firm 
 failed, and all their assets were seized upon by their credi- 
 tors, including the plates for my book. A complicated 
 contention over the assets ensued. In spite of my un- 
 ceasing efforts, I succeeded only in the latter part of May 
 in getting control of my manuscript and the finished 
 plates, and it was late in June before the book was ready. 
 My agreement with the subscribers and advertisers had 
 been to deliver it on May 1. The spring emigration to 
 Pike's Peak, for which the book was intended, being over, 
 they refused to accept it. The upshot of it all was, 
 that barely enough copies were sold to cover the cost of 
 the first edition of twenty-five hundred. In other words, 
 instead of the expected financial success, the undertaking 
 proved a failure, leaving me without any compensation for 
 the months of time and trouble I had devoted to it, and, 
 besides, very much reducing my limited means. I did not 
 get over the pang of that disappointment for a long time. 
 Instead of finding myself an independent capitalist, able 
 to do thereafter only such literary work as suited me a 
 blissful state to which I had confidently looked forward 
 I was again obliged to seek regular journalistic employ- 
 ment. Fortunately for me, we were in a "Presidential 
 year," the exciting forerunner of the dreadful crisis 
 through which the country was to pass during the fol- 
 lowing years. I had been asked b"y the Cincinnati Com- 
 mercial to attend the memorable Republican National Con- 
 vention that met at Chicago on May 16, on its behalf, and 
 gladly obeyed the summons. What I saw and heard on 
 that great occasion will always form one of my most cher- 
 ished and stirring reminiscences. I have attended a num- 
 ber of national gatherings of the great political parties 
 since, but none that even remotely compared with the at- 
 tendance at the Chicago convention in point of intelligence, 
 character, earnestness, and enthusiasm. It contained the
 
 1860] REPUBLICAN NATIONAL CONVENTION 137 
 
 very flower of the leaders of the young Republican party : 
 Horace Greeley, William M. Evarts, Thaddeus Stevens, 
 Preston King, David Wilmot, Andrew G. Curtin, Henry 
 J. Raymond, Thurlow Weed, General James Watson Webb, 
 George William Curtis, George S. Boutwell, George Ash- 
 mun, Joshua R. Giddings, William Dennison, "Tom" Cor- 
 win, Henry S. Lane, N. B. Judd, Lyman Trumbull, and 
 Carl Schurz. It was undeniably what all the opposition 
 parties the Douglas Democracy, the Buchanan or Breck- 
 inridge Democracy, and the Bell and Everett "American" 
 party charged it with being: a sectional convention, made 
 up exclusively of representatives of the free States, except- 
 ing the five border Slave States. The Proceedings were of 
 absorbing interest, and, upon the whole, harmonious. Still, 
 two divergent tendencies upon the slavery question, one 
 radical and the other conservative, were noticeable, which 
 led to the most dramatic incident of the Convention. It 
 was when the motion of Joshua R. Giddings to embody the 
 preamble to the Declaration of Independence, "That all 
 men are created equal," etc., etc., was voted down, and 
 George William Curtis, then only thirty-six years old, rose 
 to renew it with a matchless burst of eloquence which at 
 once carried away the audience. 
 
 In one respect the Convention proved a great disap- 
 pointment to me. I was enthusiastically for the nomina- 
 tion of William H. Seward, who seemed to me the proper 
 and natural leader of the Republican party ever since his 
 great "irrepressible conflict" speech in 1858. The noisy 
 demonstrations of his followers, and especially of the New 
 York delegation in his favor, had made me sure, too, that 
 his candidacy would be irresistible. I therefore shared 
 fully the intense chagrin of the New York and other State 
 delegations when, on the third ballot, Abraham Lincoln re- 
 ceived a larger vote than Seward, and the former's unani- 
 mous nomination followed. I had not got over the pre- 
 judice against Lincoln with which my personal contact 
 with him in 1858 imbued me. It seemed to me incompre-
 
 138 HENRY VILLARD [1860 
 
 hensible and outrageous that the uncouth, common Illi- 
 nois politician, whose only experience in public life had 
 been service as a member of the State legislature and in 
 Congress for one term, should carry the day over the emi- 
 nent and tried statesman, the foremost figure, indeed, in 
 the country. 
 
 I devoted my entire time for the remainder of the sum- 
 mer, as well as during the fall till the Presidential election 
 in November, to getting up reports of notable political 
 meetings for the Cincinnati Commercial, the Missouri 
 Democrat, with whose well-known chief editor, B. Gratz 
 Brown, I had become well acquainted during my stay in 
 St. Louis, and for the New York Tribune, connection with 
 which I secured through my acquaintance with Horace 
 Greeley. I was constantly on the wing, and travelled over 
 Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, and Michigan, with occasional in- 
 cursions into Kentucky, Wisconsin, and Missouri in sum, 
 from four to five thousand miles. I do not think I exag- 
 gerate in saying that I must have attended at least fifty 
 important meetings in the course of four months. While 
 a high order of popular oratory was rare, there was a 
 great deal of very good speaking. I heard Lincoln, Doug- 
 las, S. P. Chase, J. C. Breckinridge, Carl Schurz, Schuyler 
 Colfax, Tom Corwin, and a host of lesser lights. I met 
 hundreds of old political acquaintances, and made literally 
 thousands of new ones. It was a singular opportunity 
 to observe and study human nature in general, and the 
 game of practical politics in particular. Upon the whole, 
 I had a very good time, being the recipient of hearty hos- 
 pitality everywhere. Still, I was very glad when my labors 
 came to an end. 
 
 I was in Chicago on the day of the election. Though no 
 great admirer of the Republican standard-bearer, I de- 
 sired, of course, his success, and felt greatly gratified by it. 
 It was clear to my mind that the triumph of the Repub- 
 lican party would lead to a national crisis. I believed,
 
 1860] LINCOLN'S ELECTION 139 
 
 indeed, that the country was on the threshold of most 
 serious events, and it looked to me as though a violent solu- 
 tion of the slavery question might be rapidly approaching. 
 But I had as little idea as anybody else that the greatest 
 and bloodiest civil war known to history was to break out 
 in the immediate future.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 WITH LINCOLN AT SPRINGFIELD. 1860-1 
 
 I WENT from Chicago to New York partly for a few 
 weeks' rest and enjoyment, to which I was certainly 
 entitled after my arduous labors during the summer and 
 fall, and partly to renew my former efforts to secure a per- 
 manent connection with the metropolitan press. 1 The 
 thorough practical training as a reporter I had acquired 
 since my last attempts in the same direction, promised 
 to make the attainment of my object much easier. An 
 offer came to me in the last days of November in an en- 
 tirely unexpected form. The New York Associated Press 
 proposed to me 2 that I should go to Springfield, Illinois, 
 and remain there till the departure of the President-elect 
 for Washington, supplying it with regular despatches about 
 current events in that place, which was to become for 
 a time the centre of political gravitation. As a fair remu- 
 neration was offered, and my condition that I should be 
 permitted to correspond by mail with Western papers was 
 agreed to, I accepted this novel and important mission. 
 
 I started at once for Springfield. Having frequently 
 visited the place in 1858 and during the Presidential cam- 
 paign, I had a good many local acquaintances, including 
 Lincoln ; his law-partner, Judge Logan ; Richard Yates, the 
 
 1 He brought with him a long arti- Mr. Hudson, on hearing of his ex- 
 
 cle on the development of mining in perience in the Lincoln-Douglas 
 
 the Rocky Mountains in 1860,which campaign and his acquaintance with 
 
 was finally accepted by the Herald. Lincoln. By the rules of the Asso- 
 
 This renewed his acquaintance ciated Press, his despatches had to 
 
 with Frederic Hudson, the manag- be shared by the Herald with the 
 
 ing editor. other members of the Association. 
 
 1 Or, rather, the Herald, through 
 
 140
 
 1860] WITH LINCOLN AT SPRINGFIELD 141 
 
 Governor-elect; Jesse K. Dubois, the State Auditor; and 
 other politicians, and the writers on the two daily papers. 
 Among the latter was William M. Springer, who afterwards 
 attained considerable prominence as a member of Congress 
 of many years' service. Later on, R. R. Hitt turned up as 
 a shorthand reporter of the proceedings of the Legislature. 
 Springfield was then a small but attractive town of some 
 nine thousand inhabitants. The business part centred 
 in the square in which stood the State-house, with the 
 offices of the Governor and of the heads of departments 
 and the legislative chambers. The residence streets ex- 
 tended at right angles from the square. None of the streets 
 were paved, and in wet weather, of which a good deal 
 prevailed during that winter, they were simply impassable. 
 There was but one decent hotel, where I put up, and this 
 became the principal stopping-place of thousands of visi- 
 tors, who, from curiosity or for political consultation and 
 place-hunting, made a pilgrimage to this transient Mecca 
 during the succeeding months. 
 
 When I made the object of my stay known to Mr. Lin- 
 coln, he gave me a very friendly welcome, and authorized 
 me to come to him at any time for any information I 
 needed. He introduced me to his private secretary, John 
 G. Nicolay, who owes a very successful career to him. 
 Mr. Lincoln had engaged him only after his election, pre- 
 vious to which he had been a simple clerk on a small salary 
 in one of the State offices. I also then met John Hay for 
 the first time. I do not remember whether he was already 
 in the employ of Mr. Lincoln as assistant private secre- 
 tary when I arrived or not. But he became such before 
 Mr. Lincoln left Springfield. He was very young barely 
 twenty-two handsome and of engaging manners. He had 
 been acting as a correspondent of the St. Louis Missouri 
 Democrat for some time. He wrote with much fluency and 
 in a florid style. His career as litterateur and diplomat 
 is well known. He has borne the title of Colonel, though 
 he never saw any actual service. Nicolay and he have
 
 142 HENRY VILLARD [1860 
 
 shown their gratitude to Abraham Lincoln in their volu- 
 minous Life of him, which is certainly a most valuable 
 source of original information, but which cannot be said 
 to be a model of historical justice. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln soon found, after his election, that his mod- 
 est two-story frame dwelling was altogether inadequate for 
 the throng of local callers and of visitors from a dis- 
 tance, and, accordingly, he gladly availed himself of the 
 offer of the use of the Governor's room in the Capitol 
 building. On my arrival, he had already commenced 
 spending a good part of each day in it. He appeared daily, 
 except Sundays, between nine and ten o'clock, and held 
 a reception till noon, to which all comers were admitted, 
 without even the formality of first sending in cards. Who- 
 ever chose to call, received the same hearty greeting. At 
 noon, he went home to dinner and reappeared at about 
 two. Then his correspondence was given proper attention, 
 and visitors of distinction were seen by special appoint- 
 ment at either the State-house or the hotel. Occasionally, 
 but very rarely, he passed some time in his law office. In 
 the evening, old friends called at his home for the ex- 
 change of news and political views. At times, when im- 
 portant news was expected, he would go to the telegraph 
 or newspaper offices after supper, and stay there till late. 
 Altogether, probably no other President-elect was as ap- 
 proachable for everybody, at least during the first weeks of 
 my stay. But he found in the end, as was to be expected, 
 that this popular practice involved a good deal of fatigue, 
 and that he needed more time for himself; and the hours 
 he gave up to the public were gradually restricted. 
 
 I was present almost daily for more or less time during 
 his morning receptions. I generally remained a silent 
 listener, as I could get at him at other hours when I was in 
 need of information. It was a most interesting study to 
 watch the manner of his intercourse with callers. As a 
 rule, he showed remarkable tact in dealing with each of 
 them, whether they were rough-looking Sangamon County
 
 1860] WITH LINCOLN AT SPRINGFIELD 143 
 
 farmers still addressing him familiarly as "Abe," sleek 
 and pert commercial travellers, staid merchants, sharp 
 politicians, or preachers, lawyers, or other professional 
 men. He showed a very quick and shrewd perception 
 of and adaptation to individual characteristics and pe- 
 culiarities. He never evaded a proper question, or failed 
 to give a fit answer. He was ever ready for an argu- 
 ment, which always had an original flavor, and, as a 
 rule, he got the better in the discussion. There was, how- 
 ever, one limitation to the freedom of his talks with his 
 visitors. A great many of them naturally tried to draw 
 him out as to his future policy as President regarding the 
 secession movement in the South, but he would not com- 
 mit himself. The most remarkable and attractive feature 
 of those daily "levees," however, was his constant indul- 
 gence of his story-telling propensity. Of course, all the 
 visitors had heard of it and were eager for the privilege 
 of listening to a practical illustration of his pre-eminence 
 in that line. He knew this, and took special delight in 
 meeting their wishes. He never was at a loss for a story 
 or an anecdote to explain a meaning or enforce a point, 
 the aptness of which was always perfect. His supply was 
 apparently inexhaustible, and the stories sounded so real 
 that it was hard to determine whether he repeated what 
 he had heard from others, or had invented himself. 
 
 None of his hearers enjoyed the wit and wit was an 
 unfailing ingredient of his stories half as much as he 
 did himself. It was a joy indeed to see the effect upon 
 him. A high-pitched laughter lighted up his other- 
 wise melancholy countenance with thorough merriment. 
 His body shook all over with gleeful emotion, and when 
 he felt particularly good over his performance, he followed 
 his habit of drawing his knees, with his arms around them, 
 up to his very face, as I had seen him do in 1858. I am 
 sorry to state that he often allowed himself altogether too 
 much license in the concoction of the stories. He seemed 
 to be bent upon making his hit by fair means or foul. In
 
 144 HENRY VILLARD [1860 
 
 other words, he never hesitated to tell a coarse or even 
 outright nasty story, if it served his purpose. All his per- 
 sonal friends could bear testimony on this point. It was 
 a notorious fact that this fondness for low talk clung to 
 him even in the White House. More than once I heard 
 him "with malice aforethought" get off purposely some 
 repulsive fiction in order to rid himself of an uncomfort- 
 able caller. Again and again I felt disgust and humiliation 
 that such a person should have been called upon to direct 
 the destinies of a great nation in the direst period of its 
 history. Yet his achievements during the next few years 
 proved him to be one of the great leaders of mankind in 
 adversity, in whom low leanings only set off more strik- 
 ingly his better qualities. At the time of which I speak, 
 I could not have persuaded myself that the man might pos- 
 sibly possess true greatness of mind and nobility of heart. 
 I do not wish to convey the idea, however, that he was 
 mainly given to trivialities and vulgarities in his conver- 
 sation ; for, in spite of his frequent outbreaks of low humor, 
 his was really a very sober and serious nature, and even 
 inclined to gloominess to such an extent that all his biog- 
 raphers have attributed a strongly melancholic disposition 
 to him. 
 
 I often availed myself of his authorization to come to 
 him at any time for information. There were two questions 
 in which the public, of course, felt the deepest interest, and 
 upon which I was expected to supply light, viz., the compo- 
 sition- of his Cabinet, and his views upon the secession 
 movement that was daily growing in extent and strength. 
 As to the former, he gave me to understand early, by in- 
 direction, that, as everybody expected, William H. Sew- 
 ard and S. P. Chase, his competitors for the Presidential 
 nomination, would be among his constitutional advisers. 
 It was hardly possible for him not to recognize them, and 
 he steadily turned a deaf ear to the remonstrances that 
 were made against them as "extreme men" by leading 
 politicians from the Border States, particularly from Ken-
 
 1860] WITH LINCOLN AT SPRINGFIELD 145 
 
 tucky and Missouri. As to the remaining members of his 
 Cabinet, they were definitely selected much later, and after 
 a protracted and wearisome tussle with the delegations of 
 various States that came to Springfield to urge the claims 
 of their "favorite sons." I shall refer again to this 
 subject. 
 
 No one who heard him talk upon the other question 
 could fail to discover his "other side," and to be im- 
 pressed with his deep earnestness, his anxious contem- 
 plation of public affairs, and his thorough sense of the 
 extraordinary responsibilities that were coming upon him. 
 He never refused to talk with me about secession, but gen- 
 erally evaded answers to specific interrogatories, and con- 
 fined himself to generalizations. I was present at a num- 
 ber of conversations which he had with leading public 
 men upon the same subject, when he showed the same 
 reserve. He did not hesitate to say that the Union ought 
 to, and in his opinion would, be preserved, and to go into 
 long arguments in support of the proposition, based upon 
 the history of the republic, the homogeneity of the popula- 
 tion, the natural features of the country, such as the com- 
 mon coast, the rivers and mountains, that compelled polit- 
 ical and commercial unity. But he could not be got to 
 say what he would do in the face of Southern secession, 
 except that as President he should be sworn to maintain the 
 Constitution of the United States, and that he was there- 
 fore bound to fulfil that duty. He met in the same general 
 way the frequent questions whether he should consider it 
 his duty to resort to coercion by force of arms against the 
 States engaged in attempts to secede. In connection there- 
 with I understood him, however, several times to ex- 
 press doubts as to the practicability of holding the Slave 
 States in the Union by main force, if they were all deter- 
 mined to break it up. He was often embarrassed by ef- 
 forts of radical antislavery men to get something out of 
 1 him in encouragement of their hopes that the crisis would 
 result in the abolition of slavery. He did not respond as 
 10
 
 146 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 they wished, and made it clear that he did not desire to be 
 considered an ''abolitionist," and that he still held the 
 opinion that property in slaves was entitled to protection 
 under the Constitution, and that its owners could not be 
 deprived of it without due compensation. Consciously or 
 unconsciously, he, like everybody else, must have been in- 
 fluenced in his views by current events. As political pas- 
 sion in the South rose higher and higher, and actual defi- 
 ance of Federal authority by deeds of violence occurred 
 almost daily after his election, culminating in the formal 
 secession of seven States and the establishment of the 
 Southern Confederacy under Jefferson Davis at Montgom- 
 ery, Alabama, the belief, which he doubtless had originally, 
 that by a conciliatory course as President he could pacify 
 the rebellious States, must have become shaken. Still, I 
 think I interpret his views up to the time of his departure 
 for Washington correctly in saying that he had not lost 
 faith in the preservation of peace between the North and 
 the South, and he certainly did not dream that his prin- 
 cipal duty would be to raise great armies and fleets, and 
 the means to maintain them, for the suppression of the most 
 determined and sanguinary rebellion, in defence of slavery, 
 that our planet ever witnessed. 
 
 The Jacksonian "doctrine" that to the "victors belong 
 the spoils," was still so universally the creed of all poli- 
 ticians that it was taken for granted there would be a 
 change not only in all the principal, but also in all the 
 minor, Federal offices. It was also expected that the other 
 time-honored party practice of a division of executive pa- 
 tronage among the several States would be carried out. 
 Accordingly, there appeared deputations from all the 
 Northern and Border States at Springfield to put in their 
 respective claims for recognition. Some of them came not 
 only once, but several times. From a number of States 
 several delegations turned up, representing rival factions 
 in the Republican ranks, each pretending to be the rightful 
 claimant. Almost every State presented candidates for the
 
 1861] WITH LINCOLN AT SPRINGFIELD 147 
 
 Cabinet and for the principal diplomatic and departmental 
 offices. The hotel was the principal haunt of the place- 
 hunters. The tricks, the intrigues, and the manoeuvres 
 that were practised by them in pursuit of their aims, came 
 nearly all within the range of my observation, as it was 
 my duty to furnish the earliest possible news of their 
 success or failure. As a rule, the various sets of spoilsmen 
 were very willing to take me into their confidence, but 
 it was not always easy to distinguish what was true in 
 their communications from what they wished me to say 
 to the press purely in furtherance of their interests. Among 
 the political visitors, the most prominent I met were: 
 Simon Cameron, S. P. Chase, Thurlow Weed, Lyman 
 Trumbull, N. B. Judd, Richard J. Oglesby, Francis P. 
 Blair, Sr. and Jr., B. Gratz Brown, William Dennison, 
 D. C. Carter of Ohio, Henry J. Winter, and Oliver P. 
 Morton. Thurlow Weed was by far the most interesting 
 figure and the most astute operator among them all. 
 
 From what I have said, it will be understood that the 
 President-elect had a hard time of it with the office-seekers. 
 But as he himself was a thorough believer in the doctrine 
 of rotation in office, he felt it his duty to submit to this 
 tribulation. The Cabinet appointments, other than those 
 already named, were especially troublesome to him. There 
 was an intense struggle between Indiana and Illinois, most 
 embarrassing inasmuch as there were several candidates 
 from his own State, all intimate personal friends. Then 
 came the bitter contest between the Border States of Ken- 
 tucky, Missouri, and Maryland, and the Pennsylvania cabal 
 pro and contra Simon Cameron. Amid all his perplexi- 
 ties, Lincoln displayed a good deal of patience and shrewd- 
 ness in dealing with these personal problems. His never- 
 failing stories helped many times to heal wounded feelings 
 and mitigate disappointments. But he gradually showed 
 the wear and tear of these continuous visitations, and 
 finally looked so careworn as to excite one's compassion. 
 
 Not a little was added to his trials by the early manifes-
 
 148 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 tation of the inordinate greed, coupled with an utter lack 
 of sense of propriety, on the part of Mrs. Lincoln, whose 
 local reputation had repressed in me all desire to know her. 
 I could not, however, avoid making her acquaintance to- 
 wards the end of my stay in Springfield, and subsequently 
 saw much of her in Washington. How the politicians 
 found out Mrs. Lincoln's weakness, I do not know, but 
 it is a sorry fact that she allowed herself to be persuaded, 
 at an early date, to accept presents for the use of her in- 
 fluence with her husband in support of the aspirations of 
 office-seekers. 
 
 I must mention a remarkable occurrence in Springfield, 
 of which I was myself an eye-witness. Early in January, 
 the State Legislature met, and, according to custom, the 
 newly elected Republican Governor was to read the in- 
 augural message to that body in person. The lawmakers 
 assembled in the Lower Chamber at the appointed hour, 
 but the Governor failed to appear. Search was made for 
 him, and, after a delay of half an hour, the doorkeeper 
 formally announced him, and he was escorted through the 
 middle aisle to the Speaker's chair. He seemed hardly able 
 to walk. His attempt to read the first sentences of the 
 message disclosed the nature of the trouble. He was too 
 drunk to stand or to read. He fell back into his chair, and 
 the Clerk of the House read the message in his place. Of 
 course, the scandal was great in the Legislature, in the 
 town, and throughout the State. 
 
 During the month of January, 1861, there appeared in 
 Springfield one W. S. Wood, a former hotel manager and 
 organizer of pleasure excursions, I believe, from the inte- 
 rior of New York State, who, on the recommendation of 
 Thurlow Weed, was to take charge of all the arrangements 
 for the journey of the President-elect to Washington. He 
 was a man of comely appearance, greatly impressed with 
 the importance of his mission and inclined to assume 
 airs of consequence and condescension. As he showed a 
 disposition to ignore me, I made a direct appeal to Mr.
 
 1861] WITH LINCOLN AT SPRINGFIELD 149 
 
 Lincoln, who instructed him that I was to be one of the 
 Presidential party. In fact, I was the only member of the 
 press forming part of it as far as Cincinnati, although 
 Messrs. Nicolay and Hay, for some unexplained reason, 
 fail to mention me in naming the members of the party. 
 
 The start on the memorable journey was made shortly 
 after eight o'clock on the morning of Monday, February 11. 
 It was a clear, crisp winter day. Only about one hundred 
 people, mostly personal friends, were assembled at the 
 station to shake hands for the last time with their dis- 
 tinguished townsman. It was not strange that he yielded 
 to the sad feelings which must have moved him at the 
 thought of what lay behind and what was before him, and 
 gave them utterance in a pathetic formal farewell to the 
 gathering crowd, as follows : 
 
 MY FRIENDS : No one not in my position can appreciate the sad- 
 ness I feel at this parting. To this people I owe all that I am. 
 Here I have lived more than a quarter of a century; here my 
 children were born, and here one of them lies buried. I know not 
 how soon I shall see you again. A duty devolves upon me which 
 is, perhaps, greater than that which has devolved upon any other 
 man since the days of Washington. He never would have suc- 
 ceeded except for the aid of Divine Providence, upon which he at 
 all times relied. I feel that I cannot succeed without the same 
 Divine aid which sustained him, and in the same Almighty Being 
 I place my reliance for support ; and I hope you, my friends, will 
 all pray that I may receive that Divine assistance, without which 
 I cannot succeed, but with which success is certain. Again I bid 
 you all an affectionate farewell 
 
 I reproduce this here, as but for me it would not have 
 been preserved in the exact form in which it was delivered. 
 It was entirely extemporized, and, knowing this, I pre- 
 vailed on Mr. Lincoln, immediately after starting, to write 
 it out for me on a "pad." I sent it over the wires from 
 the first telegraph station. I kept the pencil manuscript 
 for some time, but, unfortunately, lost it in my wander- 
 ings in the course of the Civil War.
 
 150 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 Our travelling companions at the start were (besides Mr. 
 and Mrs. Lincoln and the three sons) W. S. Wood; J. G. 
 Nicolay and John Hay; two old personal friends of Mr. 
 Lincoln, Judge David Davis, of Bloomington, afterwards 
 Associate Justice of the U. S. Supreme Court, and N. B. 
 Judd, of Chicago, who had the promise of the Secretary- 
 ship of the Interior; Dr. W. S. Wallace, a brother-in-law; 
 Lockwood Todd, a relative of Mrs. Lincoln, who was em- 
 ployed on several important political missions during the 
 next few months; and Ward Hill Lamon, a lawyer of 
 Bloomington, who afterwards became United States Mar- 
 shal for the District of Columbia, and as such a sort of 
 majordomo at the White House, and finally the author 
 of a biography of Abraham Lincoln. For describing him 
 in this as an infidel, Lamon was much and unjustly at- 
 tacked. He brought a banjo along, and amused us with 
 negro songs. There was also a military escort, consisting 
 of Colonel Edwin Vose Sumner, the white-haired com- 
 mander of a cavalry regiment of the regular army, and 
 of Major David Hunter, Captain John Pope, and Captain 
 Hazard of the same service. Colonel Sumner, Major Hun- 
 ter, and Captain Pope became well-known commanding 
 generals during the war. Another "military" character, 
 a sort of pet of Mr. Lincoln, was Colonel E. E. Ellsworth, 
 who, though a mere youth, of small but broad figure, curly 
 black head, and handsome features, had achieved consider- 
 able local notoriety as a captain of a crack "Zouave" 
 militia company in Chicago. He was one of the first vic- 
 tims of the Civil War, being shot by a rebel while raising 
 the United States flag at Alexandria, Virginia. 
 
 The party had a special train, composed at first only of 
 an ordinary passenger car there were no parlor or draw- 
 ing-room or sleeping cars in those days a baggage-car and 
 engine. The first day's journey took us from the capital 
 of Illinois to that of Indiana. Until we reached the boun- 
 dary of the latter State, the demonstrations along the route 
 were insignificant, except at Decatur, where a great crowd,
 
 1861] WITH LINCOLN TO NEW YORK 151 
 
 headed b~y Richard J. Oglesby, then a hotel-keeper, but sub- 
 sequently a general in the war, Governor, and United States 
 Senator, greeted the future Chief Magistrate, who deliv- 
 ered another farewell speech. At the boundary, the train 
 was boarded by a large delegation of leading Indianians, 
 including Schuyler Colfax, Henry S. Lane, Caleb B. Smith, 
 and Thomas H. Nelson. At Lafayette, a great crowd 
 awaited our coming, and the President-elect had to appear 
 and speak to them. At Indianapolis, where the first day's 
 journey ended, he was formally welcomed by Governor 
 Oliver P. Morton, and replied to him at length. His 
 speech was remarkable for the first public intimation that 
 he should consider it his duty as President to retake the 
 properties of the United States, including the forts un- 
 lawfully seized by the rebellious States, and otherwise re- 
 establish the authority of the Federal Government. 
 
 The next stage of the journey was from Indianapolis 
 to Cincinnati ; the third, from Cincinnati to Columbus ; the 
 fourth, from Columbus to Pittsburg ; the fifth, from Pitts- 
 burg to Cleveland; the sixth, from Cleveland to Buffalo, 
 where a rest was taken over Sunday. The eighth day the 
 journey was continued as far as Albany, and on the fol- 
 lowing day we reached New York. Everywhere there were 
 formal welcomes by the State or municipal authorities 
 and by great crowds of people, with brass bands, and pub- 
 lic and private receptions. In different localities pleasant 
 variations were offered in the way of serenades, torchlight 
 processions, and gala theatrical performances. Altogether, 
 the President had every reason to feel flattered and en- 
 couraged by the demonstrations in his honor. But the 
 journey was a very great strain upon his physical and men- 
 tal strength, and he was well-nigh worn out when he 
 reached Buffalo. He must have spoken at least fifty times 
 during the week. In the kindness of his heart not from 
 any love of adulation, for he really felt very awkward 
 about it he never refused to respond to a call for his ap- 
 pearance wherever the train stopped. While he thus satis-
 
 152 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 fied the public curiosity, he disappointed, by his appear- 
 ance, most of those who saw him for the first time. I could 
 see that impression clearly written on the faces of his rustic 
 audiences. Nor was this surprising, for they certainly 
 saw the most unprepossessing features, the gawkiest figure, 
 and the most awkward manners. Lincoln always had an 
 embarrassed air, too, like a country clodhopper appearing 
 in fashionable society, and was nearly always stiff and un- 
 happy in his off-hand remarks. The least creditable per- 
 formance en route was his attempt to say something on 
 the question of tariff legislation in his Pittsburg speech. 
 What he said was really nothing but crude, ignorant twad- 
 dle, without point or meaning. It proved him to be 
 the veriest novice in economic matters, and strengthened 
 my doubts as to his capacity for the high office he was 
 to fill. So poor was his talk that most of the Republican 
 papers, while they printed it, abstained from comment. 
 
 After ten days of the wearisome sameness of the "per- 
 formances" at the several halting-places, I was very sick 
 of the "travelling show," and I therefore asked to be re- 
 lieved from my duties on reaching New York. My request 
 was granted, and I remained behind. It turned out that 
 I lost only the reception in Independence Hall in Phila- 
 delphia, as the journey was cut short by the incognito 
 night run of the President from Harrisburg to Washington. 
 This sudden move on his part created at the time con- 
 siderable disappointment, even among his warmest politi- 
 cal followers, being regarded as an evidence of unwar- 
 ranted fear. But subsequent events and developments 
 proved his course to have been a wise one.
 
 CHAPTEB XI 
 
 AT WASHINGTON IN SUMTEB DAYS. 1861 
 
 I REMAINED in New York till February 26, and then 
 proceeded also to the national capital. I was conscious 
 of now being so thoroughly qualified as a political writer 
 and observer that I could be perfectly sure of constant 
 and well-paid employment, having the special advantage, 
 too, of being well acquainted with the President and his 
 most intimate friends and advisers. I was also convinced 
 that Washington was the proper and most promising field 
 for me. I conceived the plan of trying a new departure 
 in news-reporting from Washington, viz., to gather and 
 furnish the same political and other news by mail and 
 telegraph to a number of papers in different parts of 
 the country, geographically so situated that they would not 
 interfere with each other by the simultaneous publication 
 of the same matter. I telegraphed a proposal to that effect 
 from New York to the Cincinnati Commercial and the 
 Chicago Tribune, both of which promptly accepted it. The 
 New York Tribune and Times, having already special cor- 
 respondents in Washington, would not accept it; but the 
 elder Bennett and Frederic Hudson of the Herald offered 
 to engage me as a telegraphic correspondent, and, as they 
 conceded my condition that I should be free to speak 
 through the Herald as a sympathizer with the Republican 
 party, I came to an understanding with them. My enter- 
 prise was to be a sort of supplement to the Associated Press, 
 whose then Washington correspondent was very ineffi- 
 cient, but was kept in his place on account of his long ser- 
 vices. It was, indeed, the beginning in this country of the 
 news syndicates or agencies of which scores now exist in 
 
 153
 
 154 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 Washington and New York. I think I am fairly entitled 
 to be considered the pioneer in this business, though the 
 present generation of journalists is not aware of the fact. 
 
 I made my advent accordingly in Washington in high 
 spirits. The Herald was to pay me twenty-five dollars a 
 week, the Commercial and Tribune each fifteen dollars, thus 
 bringing my weekly earnings up to fifty-five dollars, or not 
 far from three thousand a year really a large income for 
 those days, when even Cabinet officers had only six thou- 
 sand dollars. I hired a finely furnished suite of rooms for 
 only twelve dollars a month, and engaged board at Wil- 
 lard's, the leading hotel, for thirty dollars a month 
 prices that will seem almost incredibly low when compared 
 with those of the present day. Altogether, I felt quite rich 
 and very independent. What with Congress in session, 
 the hordes of place-seekers from every part of the Union, 
 and the many public men from the North and South who 
 visited the capital from purely patriotic motives in those 
 critical days, Washington presented a very animated ap- 
 pearance. It had then about sixty thousand inhabitants, 
 a number which the transient sojourners swelled by ten 
 thousand. Leaving out the public buildings, the place 
 seemed like a large village, with its preponderance of plain, 
 low brick or wooden structures, wide, mostly unpaved 
 streets, small shops, general lack of business activity, and 
 a distinctly Southern air of indolence and sloth. Of its 
 numerous hotels, some were very spacious, but all were 
 poorly kept. It could not boast a single decent restau- 
 rant, but had no end of bar-rooms. There were neither 
 omnibuses nor street-cars, and the shabby public carriages 
 with their ragged black drivers were simply disgusting. 
 
 Still, unattractive as Washington was in all these re- 
 spects, it was the most important place in the Union, and 
 daily growing in importance; to it the eyes of the whole 
 civilized world turned in curious and anxious expectation. 
 Political life centred at the Capitol and at the three prin- 
 cipal hotels, Willard's, Brown's, and the National, and
 
 1861] DOUBT AND ANXIETY 155 
 
 especially Willard's, where the President had taken quar- 
 ters till he moved into the White House. Among Republi- 
 cans as well as all classes of their opponents, the entire 
 uncertainty of the outlook caused a feeling of vague appre- 
 hension. On the one hand, all attempts in Congress to 
 heal the running secession sore in the Federal body through 
 the Crittenden compromise and the measures proposed by 
 Senators Seward, Anthony, and Powell, and Representa- 
 tives Vallandigham, Clingman, and Corwin, had failed. 
 The so-called Peace Congress had likewise just miscarried. 
 On the other hand, the seven rebellious States showed the 
 boldest defiance, and were striving with the utmost deter- 
 mination to solidify the structure of the Southern Con- 
 federacy they had erected during the winter, and to widen 
 and strengthen it by dragging the Border States after 
 them. There was great division of opinion as to the wisest 
 course to be pursued by the incoming Administration, even 
 among its own supporters. Such leading Republicans as 
 Horace Greeley and Thurlow Weed came out openly in 
 favor of peaceful separation rather than the use of force 
 by the Federal Government against the rebels. Other 
 leaders were willing to go to great lengths in conciliating 
 the South through Federal and State legislation concerning 
 the "peculiar institution." The bulk of the Republican 
 party and the majority of its Representatives in Congress 
 were ready and anxious, however, for the utmost use of 
 Federal power for the reduction of the Southern insur- 
 rection and the maintenance of the Union; but not a few 
 of their principal guides, including Seward, still thought 
 that the secession fever would run for a time, but gradually 
 lose force and die out under proper treatment by Mr. Lin- 
 coln. The latter himself still held this belief. The pros- 
 pect of the preservation of peace seemed to grow steadily 
 less, yet only the outright secessionists were inclined to 
 contemplate the spectre of a sanguinary struggle with com- 
 placency. The doubtfulness of the situation was increased 
 by the open sympathy and readiness to concede all that
 
 156 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 would be necessary to placate the South shown by the 
 Democrats of the North. Numerous mass meetings, of 
 which those in Philadelphia under the direction of Mayor 
 Henry, and in Albany under that of Governor Seymour, 
 were the most notable, had been held in the Northern 
 States to protest against "coercion," denounce the 
 "Black Republicans," and demand recognition of the "just 
 claims of our Southern brethren." I for one was fully 
 convinced that a most bloody civil war was inevitable, 
 unless the new Government abdicated its powers as far 
 as the rebellious States were concerned; and I freely ex- 
 pressed that conviction in my correspondence. 
 
 Truly, the last man to be envied, under the circum- 
 stances, was Abraham Lincoln. The formal calls he re- 
 ceived and had to return, the consultations with friends, 
 the finishing touches to his inaugural message (which he 
 had written and set up in type before leaving Springfield, 
 but which received much tinkering before its delivery, at 
 the suggestion of Orville H. Browning, Seward, and 
 others), occupied his time from morning till late at night; 
 and the settlement of the appointments to the principal 
 offices left him, to be sure, little time for thought of the 
 future. The pressure of the place-hunters was tremendous. 
 As the necessary decision of their fate drew nearer, their 
 eagerness to gain access to the chief dispenser of patronage 
 became intensified. The situation is graphically described 
 by Nicolay and Hay in their Life of Lincoln. 
 
 I saw Mr. Lincoln twice for a few minutes before the in- 
 auguration, when, in response to an expression of sym- 
 pathy with his tribulations, he groaned out: "Yes, it was 
 bad enough in Springfield, but it was child 's play compared 
 with this tussle here. I hardly have a chance to eat or sleep. 
 I am fair game for everybody of that hungry lot." His 
 wife again added not least to his worries. She meddled 
 not only with the distribution of minor offices, but even 
 with the assignment of places in the Cabinet. Moreover, 
 she allowed herself to be approached and continuously
 
 1861] LINCOLN'S INAUGURAL 157 
 
 surrounded by a common set of men and women, who, 
 through her susceptibility to even the most barefaced 
 flattery, easily gained a controlling influence over her. 
 Among the persons who thus won access to her graces 
 was the so-called "Chevalier" Wikoff, whose name figured 
 as much as any other in the press in those days, who 
 made pretension to the role of a sort of cosmopolitan 
 knight-errant, and had the entree of society, but was, in 
 fact, only a salaried social spy or informer of the New 
 York Herald. Wikoff was of middle age, an accomplished 
 man of the world, a fine linguist, with graceful presence, 
 elegant manners, and a conscious, condescending way 
 altogether, just such a man as would be looked upon as a 
 superior being by a woman accustomed only to Western 
 society. Wikoff showed the utmost assurance in his ap- 
 peals to the vanity of the mistress of the White House. 
 I myself heard him compliment her upon her looks and 
 dress in so fulsome a way that she ought to have blushed 
 and banished the impertinent fellow from her presence. 
 She accepted Wikoff as a majordomo in general and in 
 special, as a guide in matters of social etiquette, domestic 
 arrangements, and personal requirements, including her 
 toilette, and as always welcome company for visitors in 
 her salon and on her drives. 
 
 Great efforts were made to render the inauguration an 
 imposing occasion. The city itself indicated, by the scanti- 
 ness of festive array, that the mass of the inhabitants were 
 hostile to the new rule. But many thousands, including 
 militia and political organizations, had come from the 
 North and helped to give imposing proportions to the tra- 
 ditional procession from the White House to the farther 
 end of Pennsylvania Avenue. The morning was cloudy 
 and raw ; nevertheless, at least thirty thousand people lis- 
 tened to the reading of the message from the historical 
 corner of the Capitol. Probably two-thirds of the im- 
 mense audience caught every word of the clear utterance 
 of the new President. Not the faintest disturbance oc-
 
 158 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 curred then or at any time during the day. On the con- 
 trary, the chief figure of the occasion was lustily cheered. 
 For some reason or other, offensive demonstrations and 
 even violence to the President had been apprehended, and 
 the small regular force held in readiness for the repression 
 of such attempts. Old General Scott, who rarely left his 
 quarters, owing to his infirmities, made a special effort and 
 was on duty near the Capitol, receiving frequent reports 
 from the army officers in charge of the detachments of 
 regulars distributed over the city; but not the remotest 
 sign of mischief appeared. In the evening, the customary 
 big inauguration ball came off, and, as usual, it was a very 
 crowded, much mixed and, upon the whole, very ordinary 
 affair, though the newspapers the next morning praised 
 it as the most brilliant festivity that had ever taken place 
 in the national capital. 
 
 The inaugural message, which its author and those at 
 whose instance it was changed from its original form had 
 expected to act upon the political situation like oil upon 
 a troubled sea, was received with nothing like enthusiasm 
 even by the Republicans, and fell flat as far as the North- 
 ern Democrats and Border States were concerned, while the 
 rebellious States spurned it with derisive contempt. This 
 unsatisfactory effect was not surprising. The message was, 
 to characterize it briefly, a heterogeneous compound of 
 assertion, on the one hand, of the duty of the new Federal 
 executive under his oath to obey the Constitution and en- 
 force the laws and preserve the Union; and, on the other, 
 of intimations and assurances that he would avoid action 
 that might lead to a conflict, and that he favored such 
 constitutional amendments as might pacify the South. It 
 deservedly met, therefore, the same fate as the other at- 
 tempts at conciliation in and out of Congress already re- 
 ferred to. Instead of finding himself relieved, as he had 
 hoped to be, from the necessity of making good his pledges 
 to do his duty against the rebellious States, the President 
 was directly compelled to face that dreaded contingency.
 
 1861] RELIEF OF SUMTER 159 
 
 It came in the shape of the question of holding or giv- 
 ing up Fort Sumter. That last of the Federal strongholds 
 in Charleston harbor not in possession of the rebels had 
 been left unreenforced and unreprovisioned, after a weak 
 effort to succor the garrison by the Star of the West ex- 
 pedition as the most embarrassing legacy of the Buchanan 
 to the new Administration. On the very morning after his 
 inauguration, the President found on his desk at the White 
 House a communication from the War Department, ac- 
 companied by official reports, according to which Fort 
 Sumter could hold out, even if not attacked, only a few 
 weeks longer, and Fort Pickens in Pensacola Bay was 
 also in great danger, unless strengthened by men and 
 supplies. From that hour the fate of the two forts formed 
 his most serious anxiety. He called on General Scott and 
 other officers of the army and navy for information and 
 advice. He caused special messengers to be sent to Major 
 Anderson, in command of Fort Sumter, in order to obtain 
 his own judgment as to his ability to hold out. He 
 submitted the subject for consideration to his Cabinet. 
 The Commanding General of the army, forgetting that 
 he was called on only for his military judgment, advised 
 the abandonment of both forts on political grounds. At 
 the first consultation with the Cabinet on March 15, the 
 majority of the members, in written opinions, advised 
 the evacuation of Sumter and the defence of Pickens. At 
 the next one, a fortnight later, a majority favored the 
 holding of both. The President, after weeks of hesita- 
 tion and uncertainty, had reached the same conclusion, and 
 would have acted on it even without the concurrence of 
 the Cabinet. Orders to fit out relief expeditions were at 
 once given to the War and Navy Departments. 
 
 In the meantime, the press and the public in the North, 
 not having a knowledge of these occurrences, were under 
 the impression that the Government was afraid of de- 
 cisive steps and was simply drifting with the current of 
 events. Beyond the refusal to receive the Commissioners
 
 160 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 of the Confederacy who came to "Washington a week before 
 the inauguration to negotiate for recognition, hardly any 
 action of the Administration bearing upon the Rebel- 
 lion was "visible." This naturally produced great irrita- 
 tion and discouragement in patriotic hearts, and Wash- 
 ington was full of indignant Northern men, in and out of 
 Congress, giving vent to their wrath at the supposed blind- 
 ness, incompetency, or cowardice, whichever it might be, 
 of Lincoln and his Cabinet. It was believed, and openly 
 said, that Seward's infatuated belief in the possibility of 
 a peaceful solution and his fear of coercion had prevailed 
 with the President. The Administration, according to 
 appearances, seemed to be absorbed solely in the distri- 
 bution of the "spoils," in the shape of Federal offices, 
 among the victors. Much demoralization resulted from 
 this among loyal men. Their discouragement was height- 
 ened, moreover, by the continuous desertions of army and 
 navy officers, from the highest to the lowest ranks, to the 
 rebel side, by the numerous resignations from Government 
 offices of Southerners or sympathizers with the South, 
 and by the ostentatious daily departures of Southern men 
 of national reputation, members of the Senate and House 
 and others, to join the Montgomery Legislature and Gov- 
 ernment. In addition to all this, the obvious general 
 lethargy in the loyal States, the widening divisions 
 among Republicans over the Southern question, and the 
 growing clamor of the Northern Democrats for peace on 
 any terms, seemed from day to day to render it more 
 probable that the Rebellion would be successful, and that, 
 even if the Government should decide upon efforts to put 
 it down, it would not have the support of the majority of 
 the Northern people. 
 
 In an instant, as it were, all this was changed. South- 
 ern folly and frenzy freed President Lincoln from all 
 embarrassment. The expedition for the relief of Sumter, 
 decided upon by him in compliance with his promise in 
 the inaugural message, that "the power confided to me
 
 1861] FIRST CALL FOR VOLUNTEERS 161 
 
 will be used to hold, occupy, and possess the property and 
 places belonging to the Government," gave birth to the 
 storm by which the political atmosphere was cleared at 
 once of all haze, and the true course for the ship of state 
 shown to its helmsman. Ordered on March 29, the ex- 
 pedition was intended to sail on April 6, but was delayed 
 through various obstacles, and failed of its object in con- 
 sequence. But its very failure worked like another act of 
 Providence for the right cause. For, as its departure was 
 the signal for the rebel attack on Sumter, its miscarriage 
 caused the fort's surrender. But it was the very striking 
 down of the United States flag by rebel guns that led to 
 the bursting of the patriotic hurricane that swept away 
 all dissensions, all partisan enmities, all fear, all apathy, 
 and united the whole North in the determination to pre- 
 serve the Union at any cost of blood and treasure. It has 
 been claimed that Lincoln deliberately planned the whole 
 move in sure expectation of its marvellous effect, but this 
 may well be doubted. 
 
 The President issued the call for 75,000 men on April 15. 
 On the following day I received a despatch from James 
 Gordon Bennett asking me to come at once to New York. 
 I obeyed the summons by the night train. On reaching the 
 Herald office, I found an invitation to accompany him in 
 the afternoon to his residence at Washington Heights and 
 to spend the night there. As was my host's regular cus- 
 tom, we drove from the office up Broadway and Fifth 
 Avenue and through Central Park to the Heights. I had 
 seen Bennett only twice before, and then but for a few 
 minutes each time, and the opportunity to learn more of 
 this notorious character was therefore not unwelcome to 
 me. I must say that his shameful record as a journalist, 
 and particularly the sneaking sympathy of his paper for 
 the Rebellion, and its vile abuse of the Republicans for 
 their antislavery sentiments, made me share the general 
 prejudice against him to such an extent that I had been 
 
 thinking for some time of severing my connection with the 
 11
 
 162 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 Herald, although the agreement that all I telegraphed 
 should be printed without change or omission had been 
 strictly kept. With his fine tall and slender figure, large 
 intellectual head covered with an abundance of light curly 
 hair, and strong regular features, his exterior would have 
 been impressive but for his strabismus, which gave him 
 a sinister, forbidding look. Intercourse with him, indeed, 
 quickly revealed his hard, cold, utterly selfish nature and 
 incapacity to appreciate high and noble aims. 
 
 His residence was a good-sized frame house in parklike 
 grounds, with no great pretensions either outwardly or in- 
 wardly. On the drive and during the dinner, at which 
 his one son a fine-looking, intelligent youth of twenty 
 was the only other person present, he did nothing but 
 ask questions bearing upon the characteristics and doings 
 of President Lincoln and the circumstances of my acquain- 
 tance with him. After dinner he disclosed his true pur- 
 pose in sending for me. First, he wanted me to carry 
 a message from him to Mr. Lincoln that the Herald would 
 hereafter be unconditionally for the radical suppression of 
 the Rebellion by force of arms, and in the shortest possi- 
 ble time, and would advocate and support any "war mea- 
 sures" by the Government and Congress. I was, of course, 
 very glad to hear this, and promised to repeat these as- 
 surances by word of mouth to the President. The truth 
 was, that the Herald was obliged to make this complete 
 change in its attitude, there having been ominous signs 
 for some days in New York of danger of mob violence to 
 the paper. Secondly, he wanted me to offer to Secretary 
 Chase his son's famous sailing yacht, the Rebecca, as a 
 gift to the Government for the revenue service, and to se- 
 cure in consideration thereof for its owner the appointment 
 of lieutenant in the same service. The last wish I thought 
 rather amusing, but I agreed to lay it before Secretary 
 Chase, to whom I had ready access as the representative 
 of the Cincinnati Commercial, his strongest supporter in 
 Ohio. My host retired early, and was ready before me in
 
 1861] WASHINGTON ISOLATED 163 
 
 the morning for the down drive, on which I accompanied 
 him again. Mr. Hudson the managing editor, a fine-look- 
 ing man, and one of the most courteous and obliging I ever 
 met, with extraordinary qualifications for newspaper man- 
 agementtold me in the course of the day that Mr. Bennett 
 was very much pleased with me and had increased my 
 weekly allowance to thirty-five dollars. 
 
 I started on my return trip to Washington on the night 
 train of the next day. The run now made in five hours 
 then took from ten to twelve. It was most tiresome, espe- 
 cially at night, as it involved no less than five changes of 
 cars, three crossings by ferryboat over the Hudson, Dela- 
 ware, and Susquehanna Rivers, an hour's street-car ride 
 through the whole length of Philadelphia, and the slow 
 passage through Baltimore on railroad-cars pulled by 
 horses. We reached Perryville, on the east bank of the 
 Susquehanna, from which place passengers were trans- 
 ferred on a ferryboat to Havre de Grace, opposite, at 
 3 A.M. We got out of the train and walked to the boat. 
 As it remained stationary, an explanation was sought from 
 the captain, who said that he had been directed to remain 
 where he was until further orders. One weary hour after 
 another passed without any light as to the cause of the 
 delay. There was not even a chance to sit down on the 
 boat, except on the deck. At break of day I made my 
 way to the telegraph-office at the station, but no one 
 was there. The operator did not appear till seven o'clock. 
 He said that, during the night, despatches had passed 
 over the line to the managers of the company in Phila- 
 delphia, announcing that bridges and trestles had been 
 burned in the night between Havre de Grace and Bal- 
 timore, and that accordingly the movement of all trains 
 between those two points had been ordered stopped. The 
 operator did not know who had done the burning, but it 
 was clear to me at once that the rebel sympathizers in Mary- 
 land were the perpetrators, in order to stop the transpor- 
 tation of troops from the North to the capital. This had
 
 164 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 commenced the very day before on a large scale with the 
 Sixth Massachusetts Regiment, which the great War Gov- 
 ernor, John A. Andrew, had started from Boston, one 
 thousand strong, within twenty-four hours after the Presi- 
 dent's call, and with an equal number of Pennsylvania 
 volunteers. My surmise turned out correct, but I was far 
 from suspecting the bloody events of the memorable nine- 
 teenth of April in Baltimore. 
 
 Here was a predicament for me. On the one hand, the 
 very interruption of communication with Washington 
 made it the more desirable and necessary for me to be 
 there, in order to supply news through extraordinary 
 channels if the ordinary ones failed. On the other, there 
 was the embarrassing question how to get through, the 
 broken railroad being the only line of land communi- 
 cation between the North and the capital. The first thing 
 I did was to beg for a breakfast at one of the few houses 
 in the hamlet of Perry ville there being no hotel and I 
 got one of bacon, "hoe-cakes," and indescribable coffee. 
 Next, having seen some small boats tied up at the bank, 
 I went in search of their owners. I found one of them 
 who agreed to row me to Havre de Grace for a dollar, and 
 he landed me there in an hour. This place was a village 
 of a few hundred inhabitants, who were gathered in 
 knots on the streets, discussing the stoppage of trains. 
 They confirmed the burning of the superstructures, and not 
 a few showed their rebellious disposition by expressing 
 themselves as rather glad of it. I set about finding some 
 sort of a vehicle to convey me to Baltimore, about thirty- 
 eight miles distant. There was no livery-stable and but few 
 private owners of carriages, all of whom were afraid to 
 undertake the job, not knowing what had actually hap- 
 pened. After wasting a couple of hours with them, I deter- 
 mined to start on foot just as I was my valise being checked 
 to Washington and take my chances of finding means of 
 transportation on the way. After walking some six miles, 
 about noon I reached the home of an apparently well-to-do
 
 1861] WASHINGTON ISOLATED 165 
 
 planter on the roadside. My request for a meal was 
 readily acceded to. The planter proved to be a strong anti- 
 secessionist, though a slaveholder. To my great relief, he 
 consented, in response to my offer to pay twenty-five dol- 
 lars for the accommodation, to send me in a buggy with 
 one of his slaves as a driver to Baltimore. Although I had 
 heard stories at Havre de Grace and all along the road that 
 the country was "swarming with rebel cavalry," we met 
 no armed men, nor any sort of adventure, and arrived 
 at our destination a little before dark. In driving through 
 the city, I saw no sign of disturbance; the street life 
 seemed to be going on as usual. I went to the Eutaw 
 House, the proprietor of which I had known as a New 
 York hotel-keeper. First of all, I gleaned from the morn- 
 ing and evening newspapers the details of the fearful oc- 
 currences the day before during the passage of the Massa- 
 chusetts and Pennsylvania troops. They also contained 
 the alarming announcement that railroad communication 
 with both the North and the South was entirely inter- 
 rupted. This left the problem how to get to the capital 
 only half solved for me, but I was too tired to consider at 
 once the other half of the solution, and so, after supper, 
 I sought my bed without delay. 
 
 I rose early to consult the landlord as to the best means 
 of reaching Washington, which I was resolved to do at all 
 hazards and at the earliest possible moment. As the speedy 
 reopening of the railroad seemed very doubtful, he recom- 
 mended the hiring of a carriage, and sent for the keeper 
 of the livery-stable attached to the hotel, who declined, 
 however, absolutely to furnish me a conveyance at any 
 price. Other stablemen were sent for, but with the same 
 result. Finally, it occurred to me to try to secure a sad- 
 dle-horse, and in this I was successful. But I had to put 
 up a hundred dollars with the hotel-keeper as security for 
 the return of the animal, and to pay five dollars a day and 
 all expenses till returned. I was mounted by nine o'clock, 
 and rode leisurely like a pleasure-rider to the suburbs,
 
 166 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 where I took by-roads instead of the main highway to the 
 Relay House, the junction of the main and Washington 
 lines of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad, nine miles from the 
 city. Here rider and horse had a repast, and then started 
 on the long ride of over thirty miles to Washington, where 
 I arrived at seven o'clock without having met any one 
 but harmless country folk en route. After putting up 
 the horse and getting a bath and change of clothes, I went 
 to Willard's for supper. I was surprised to find the halls 
 and public sitting-rooms almost empty, and still more so 
 when the office clerk, in answer to my question, "What 's 
 the news?" said, "Well, as you have been away, it will 
 be news to you that we are going to shut up this hotel to- 
 morrow, and this meal will be the last you can be served 
 with here." And so it was. The great caravansary was 
 to be closed for an indefinite time. 
 
 An extraordinary change had, indeed, taken place at the 
 capital since my departure. What with the proclamation 
 of the President, which was really a declaration of the ex- 
 istence of civil war, with the prospect of Washington be- 
 coming the main objective-point of hostilities, with the riot 
 in Baltimore, and the consequent stoppage of all rail- 
 road, mail, and telegraph service with the North, a veri- 
 table panic had ensued. Between the fifteenth and the 
 nineteenth, the floating population, to the extent of tens 
 of thousands, had dispersed to the North and South, and 
 they were still leaving, notwithstanding the railroad block- 
 ade, by every sort of conveyance. Instead of the nearly one 
 thousand guests that were stowed away at Willard's at the 
 inauguration, not two score remained, and that was the 
 reason for closing it. The other hotels were also empty. 
 Walking on Pennsylvania Avenue in the morning, I could 
 almost count the people in sight on my fingers. A great 
 many private houses and a number of stores were also 
 shut up. The whole city had a deserted look. 
 
 This exodus had a redeeming feature, as it consisted 
 largely of secessionists, whose departure was, under the
 
 1861] WASHINGTON ISOLATED 167 
 
 circumstances, a direct relief to the Government. But 
 there was otherwise cause for the gravest alarm, which, 
 in my visits to the White House, to the departments and 
 public offices, I found shared by all loyalists, from the 
 President and Cabinet officers down. The telegraph did 
 not work, the mails did not arrive or depart. From the 
 night of the twentieth on, there was practically no inter- 
 course in any form between the national capital and any 
 part of the country, and the Government remained with- 
 out any intelligence from any quarter for several days. 
 It knew only in a general way that the destruction of the 
 railroad between Perryville and Washington had led to 
 the adoption of the plan to transport the troops from the 
 North by water to the capital. Literally, it was as though 
 the government of a great nation had been suddenly re- 
 moved to an island in mid-ocean in a state of entire iso- 
 lation, and with all the inconveniences, uncertainties, and 
 risks incidental thereto. This extraordinary situation 
 naturally made me and all patriotic minds most anxious. 
 
 From what I saw myself and learned from others, I 
 was oppressed by the thought that the Government was 
 in a most perilous plight, that this- must be known to the 
 rebel authorities through the many willing and eager in- 
 formants who left Washington daily for the South, and 
 that, with the audacity they had so far shown, they would 
 without fail take advantage of this, their great opportu- 
 nity, and gain possession of the capital by a coup de main. 
 The circumstances were so favorable to an attempt of this 
 kind that I felt sure it would be made, and was prepared 
 to hear at any moment of the appearance of a rebel force 
 in the streets. 
 
 I did not understand then, nor could I ever understand, 
 why the rebel hands were not stretched out to seize so 
 easy a prey a seizure that might have resulted in the 
 immediate triumph of the insurrection. For, notwith- 
 standing the hundreds of resignations from the army, navy, 
 and civil service of the Government and the large migra-
 
 168 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 tion to the South, Washington was still full of traitors 
 among the residents and remaining officers and officials, 
 who would eagerly have aided an effort to capture the 
 capital for the Confederacy. There were not over two thou- 
 sand armed and uniformed men available for defence, one- 
 half being a motley of small commands of regulars from 
 different regiments and arms, and the other consisting of 
 the raw recruits of the Sixth Massachusetts Regiment. 
 Efforts were making to organize the loyal residents and 
 Government employees as a volunteer corps, but, although 
 nearly two thousand such volunteers had been enrolled, 
 not much reliance could be placed on them. Moreover, in 
 the highest places, treason had broken out, from which 
 the Government was to be protected. Adjutant-General 
 Cooper of the army, Colonel Robert E. Lee, the principal 
 aide and most trusted adviser of General Scott, and Com- 
 modore Buchanan, commandant of the navy-yard, had 
 resigned and joined the enemy. These and many other 
 desertions were rapidly demoralizing and paralyzing the 
 several branches of the public service. The President re- 
 lied on General Scott as the mainstay of the Govern- 
 ment, and yet the fact could not be disguised that the 
 Commander-in-chief was too decrepit in body and mind 
 to be equal to the dire emergency. As the official record 
 shows, he rather added to than allayed the fears of the 
 President and his Cabinet by giving credence to the ex- 
 aggerated and even fictitious and absurd reports of the 
 gathering of rebel forces in the vicinity of Washington. 
 There were but few officers left that could be trusted, and 
 they were of inferior rank, and none of them had ever 
 commanded more than a full company. I clearly perceived 
 the growing helplessness and fright of the Government, 
 and was haunted by the apprehension that the appearance 
 of a thousand determined rebels would seal the fate of 
 Washington without even a serious struggle. 
 
 The city bore the marks of a state of siege. Detachments 
 of regulars guarded all the public buildings. Patrols were
 
 1861] WASHINGTON ISOLATED 169 
 
 seen in the streets. All the approaches to the city were 
 guarded. The White House was under the special pro- 
 tection of the ''Clay" and "Frontier" Guards, two bodies 
 of select volunteers formed by Cassius M. Clay, the well- 
 known Kentucky Unionist, and by General James H. Lane, 
 later United States Senator from Kansas, who had 
 achieved considerable notoriety as a determined fighter 
 during the border troubles in that Territory. They lit- 
 erally camped for several days on the lower floor of the 
 Executive Mansion. The Potomac was also patrolled by 
 small armed boats. All stores of provisions and forage 
 were seized by the War Department, and other defensive 
 preparations made as diligently as possible. Material was 
 got ready for barricading the Treasury and Interior De- 
 partments on short notice, as their massive character and 
 isolated position rendered a strong defence practicable. 
 
 Nothing proved more conclusively the want of capacity 
 of the military authorities than their failure for days to 
 get any accurate information as to the movement of troops 
 from the North for the relief of the capital. When it is 
 considered that it is but forty miles from Washington 
 to Annapolis, which had been selected as the landing-place 
 for the relief forces, and where several regiments had ac- 
 tually disembarked on the 22d and 23d, and that, more- 
 over, the railroad from Washington to Annapolis Junction, 
 forming twenty of the forty miles, had not been disturbed 
 and trains were moving over it, it will seem amazing that 
 no news of the nearness of help was obtained by the Gov- 
 ernment. All General Scott did was to send out single 
 mounted scouts along the railroad, who regularly brought 
 back nothing but untrustworthy rumors. A company of 
 regular cavalry, under an enterprising officer with abso- 
 lute orders to secure positive intelligence, would have ac- 
 complished the desired object. As it was, our darkness 
 was not broken by a ray of light till the 25th, and, in 
 the meantime, the impatience, gloom, and depression were 
 hourly increasing. No one felt it more than the President.
 
 170 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 I saw him repeatedly, and he fairly groaned at the inex- 
 plicable delay in the advent of help from the loyal States. 
 I heard him say, too, when he reviewed the men of the 
 Sixth Massachusetts, the very words that Nieolay and Hay 
 quote : ' ' I begin to believe there is no North. The Seventh 
 New York Regiment is a myth. The Rhode Island troops 
 [reported to be on the way up the Potomac] are another. 
 You are the only real thing." But the "myth" proved 
 to be a reality, after all, on Thursday, the 25th. By a 
 very hard march of twenty-four hours from Annapolis, 
 the Seventh New York and Eighth Massachusetts managed 
 to reach Annapolis Junction on the morning of that day. 
 A train was waiting, and in the course of a few hours 
 the whole of the Seventh Regiment reached its destination. 
 I cannot express the revival of hope and confidence, the 
 exultation, that I felt and that filled all loyal hearts as 
 that crack body of New York Volunteers, nearly a thou- 
 sand strong, marched up Pennsylvania Avenue, preceded 
 by a magnificent band. After being reviewed by the Presi- 
 dent and Cabinet, it took possession of Willard 's Hotel and 
 occupied it till it moved into camp. The Seventh was 
 immediately followed by the Eighth Massachusetts and 
 by two Rhode Island regiments, accompanied by the youth- 
 ful Governor Sprague. After that, further reinforcements 
 continued to arrive daily from different loyal States, and, 
 within a month, more than the full call of 75,000 men had 
 reached the capital. But it took until the middle of May 
 to restore railroad communication with the North com- 
 pletely. 
 
 From that time on, Washington assumed a most ani- 
 mated aspect. Including the regulars and the three 
 months' men, fully eighty thousand soldiers were added 
 to its population. To the north and east an almost un- 
 broken girdle of military camps extended around the city. 
 The pomp and circumstance of actual war were constantly 
 visible in the public thoroughfares in marching columns 
 of infantry, troops of cavalry, and batteries of artillery.
 
 1861] THE CABINET 171 
 
 Thousands of visitors to the troops arrived daily from the 
 North and crowded the streets, where swarmed soldiers of 
 every arm and every sort of uniform. In the first stage 
 of the Rebellion, the Government allowed entire liberty as 
 to uniforms to those commissioned to raise regiments. 
 This privilege was freely availed of by a number of organ- 
 izations in New York City drawn from foreign-born ele- 
 ments. I was surprised one day to see infantry dressed 
 in the genuine Bavarian uniform. There were Prussian 
 uniforms, too; the "Garibaldi Guards," in the legendary 
 red blouses and bersaglieri hats; "Zouaves" and "Tur- 
 coes," clothed as in the French army, with some fanciful 
 American features grafted upon them. 
 
 Congress not being in session, my principal duties con- 
 sisted in gathering news through daily visits to the White 
 House and the different departments. I had no difficulty 
 in soon getting on very good terms with all the heads of 
 departments and their chief subordinates. At certain 
 times of the day, mostly immediately after office hours, I 
 could always be sure of gaining admission to the secre- 
 taries, if I desired to see them. I found Secretaries Sew- 
 ard, Chase, and Cameron the most accessible and com- 
 municative. A brief experience taught me that even the 
 first two, although their great national reputation was 
 so solidly founded, were anything but impervious to news- 
 paper flattery, and very sensitive under journalistic criti- 
 cism. Seward was afflicted with an outright weakness in 
 that respect. The Herald made a regular practice of bestow- 
 ing on him extravagant eulogies bordering sometimes on 
 ridiculous exaggeration, in order to smooth the way to his 
 confidence for its correspondents, and the recipient did not 
 always succeed in concealing from them his grateful ap- 
 preciation. Chase was far less affable than Seward, and 
 kept men at a distance by his stately and occasionally 
 pompous ways; but it did not require much penetration 
 to perceive that he had the very highest opinion of him- 
 self and was prone to criticise others rather indiscreetly.
 
 172 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 Still, I greatly admired his natural ability and solid ac- 
 quirements, and especially his high and pure political aims. 
 My acquaintance with him gradually assumed a confiden- 
 tial character, so that he expressed himself very freely re- 
 garding public men and matters. 
 
 Cameron was the typical American politician, with a 
 well-defined purpose in all he said and did. He also held 
 himself a little too freely at the disposal of newspaper men, 
 to whom he was by far the most cordial and talkative of all 
 the secretaries. He made them feel at once as though 
 they had met an old acquaintance and friend. He was 
 certainly the cleverest political manager in the Cabinet, 
 and, though unquestionably as ambitious as any member 
 of it, he never was guilty of the indiscretions which the 
 political records of Seward and Chase reveal. He had 
 a very shrewd way of tempting journalists by implica- 
 tions and insinuations into publishing things about others 
 that he wished to have said without becoming responsible 
 for them. 
 
 The Secretary of the Navy, Gideon Welles, was speedily 
 discovered to be a rather difficult subject for newspaper 
 enterprise, and the representatives of the press confined 
 their attention to his assistant secretary, Captain G. V. Fox, 
 formerly a naval officer. Fox had suddenly acquired a 
 well-deserved national reputation for patriotic bravery by 
 the offer of his services in connection with an expedition 
 of a "sink or swim" character for the relief of Fort Sum- 
 ter, planned by himself and authorized by President Lin- 
 coln and actually attempted, but resulting in failure from 
 a succession of untoward accidents. He was a very strong 
 man, endowed with remarkable ingenuity, courage, and 
 energy, but full of personal prejudices that made him 
 hardly a safe conductor of public affairs. He was an un- 
 sparing critic, regardless of the rules of discipline, policy, 
 and comity, and astonishingly free in his talk to our fra- 
 ternity. 
 
 His brother-in-law, Montgomery Blair, the Postmaster-
 
 1861] THE CAMPS 173 
 
 General, was a similarly positive, intolerant, and deter- 
 mined character. He and Fox were the best haters of the 
 Rebellion in the Administration 1 , and for them the Govern- 
 ment was far from moving fast and vigorously enough in 
 its suppression. Blair, however, was very much of a 
 practical politician, and no one believed more strongly in 
 the legitimacy of the distribution of offices among the rul- 
 ing party. I also became acquainted with his father, 
 Francis P. Blair, Sr., and his brother, Francis P. Blair, 
 Jr., of St. Louis, later a Congressman and Federal general. 
 The father and sons formed a most remarkable trio, pos- 
 sessing a common character. There was no more influen- 
 tial family in the United States at the time. They like- 
 wise were not averse to being frequently mentioned and 
 well spoken of in the public journals. 
 
 The greatest curiosity was naturally felt throughout the 
 North in the doings of the volunteer troops about "Wash- 
 ington, and I was therefore instructed by my employers 
 to make them a special feature in my daily reports. For 
 that purpose I paid regular visits to the regimental camps 
 on the outskirts of the city, to facilitate which I was au- 
 thorized by the Herald to buy a saddle-horse. My daily 
 rides were most enjoyable in various ways. Delightful 
 weather was the rule throughout May and June. The sev- 
 eral hours I spent every afternoon in the saddle afforded 
 an agreeable and healthful exercise. Then, some of the 
 regimental headquarters, of which I made the rounds, 
 formed uncommon centres of attraction. Among the offi- 
 cers of some of the New York, New England, and Western 
 regiments, the very flower of the youth of the land could 
 be found. They were remarkable for intelligence, patri- 
 otism, and devotion to duty. Nor did they lack the quali- 
 ties from which the lighter joys of early manhood flow. 
 In their canvas abodes, mirth and gaiety ruled during the 
 off-duty part of the day, and visitors were made to join 
 in various frolics. It was also true, however, that not a 
 few of the regiments consisted of a very low order of ele-
 
 174 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 merits. Some of the New York and Philadelphia organiza- 
 tions had, indeed, been recruited from the vicious strata 
 of population, and were officered by the worst types of 
 local politicians. The Irish New York regiments were no- 
 torious in this respect. It was my duty to look them up 
 also, but I performed it reluctantly and as rarely as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 The regiments in which the foreign elements preponder- 
 ated had a particular interest for me as a European. Of 
 these there were four exclusively German regiments, the 
 Seventh, Eighth, Twentieth, and Twenty-ninth New York 
 Volunteer Infantry, and the so-called ' ' Garibaldi Guards, ' ' 
 made up of Italians, Frenchmen, Hungarians, Germans, 
 and other nationalities. The Eighth was under command 
 of Louis Blenker, who had had some military experience 
 not only in the rising of 1849 in Rhenish Bavaria, but 
 also in Greece as a volunteer under King Otto. The col- 
 onel of the Twentieth was Max Weber, a former army 
 officer in Baden, and landlord of the Hotel Constanz, 
 at which I stopped after landing in 1853. The colonel 
 of the "Garibaldi Guards" was D'Utassy, the roman- 
 tic assumed name of a Hungarian Jew with a German 
 patronymic. He and Blenker appeared alternately in the 
 regulation and in the fancy foreign uniforms they had 
 adopted for their regiments. Both were fond of parad- 
 ing through the streets in their gorgeous array on horse- 
 back, with mounted staffs behind them. Both bore the 
 unmistakable stamp of adventurers. Blenker, who had 
 been a small dairy farmer, had a rather imposing bear- 
 ing and accomplished manners, and blossomed out into 
 a great swell. D'Utassy was nothing but a swaggering 
 pretender. It seemed amazing that such men should have 
 been entrusted with the organization of whole regiments; 
 but, owing to the then urgent national emergency and the 
 inexperience of the rulers in war matters, any one with 
 a real or well-feigned military record had not much diffi- 
 culty in securing recognition.
 
 1861] THE CAMPS 175 
 
 Speaking of these men, another apparition of those days 
 rises before me. Thomas Francis Meagher, the Irish exile, 
 well known for his political martyrdom and his great natu- 
 ral eloquence and literary talent, came to the capital as 
 the captain of a Zouave company attached to the Sixty- 
 ninth Irish New York Regiment. He had devised a most 
 extraordinary uniform for himself, of the Zouave pattern, 
 literally covered with gold lace. It was a sight to see 
 him strut along Pennsylvania Avenue in it, with the airs 
 of a conquering hero. 
 
 Among the regular visitors to the camps was Mrs. Lin- 
 coln. It would have been, of course, an entirely proper 
 thing for her, as the wife of the Chief Magistrate of the 
 nation, to show her sympathies for the defenders of the 
 Union by going among them. But the truth was, that she 
 had no liking for them at all, being really, as a native of 
 Kentucky, at heart a secessionist. She went to the camps 
 simply to enjoy the adulation and hospitality offered her 
 there. None were more lavish with these than the officers 
 of the Irish New York regiments, and these she favored 
 especially with her calls. 
 
 One of the points of attraction was the headquarters of 
 Governor Sprague of Ehode Island, who had recruited 
 three regiments in his State and led them to Washington. 
 He had very limited mental capacity, but had reached 
 political distinction at an early age he was then but 
 thirty-one through the influence of real or reputed great 
 wealth. It was at his headquarters that he became ac- 
 quainted with Kate, the beautiful and gifted daughter 
 of Secretary Chase. The acquaintance quickly ripened 
 into an engagement that was the social sensation of the 
 day. She was far superior to him in every way, and mar- 
 ried him for the enjoyment and power of his money. It 
 turned out one of the unhappiest marriages ever known in 
 American society, ending in moral and material wretched- 
 ness for both parties.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 FORMATION OF THE FEDERAL ARMY. 1861 
 
 THE readiness of the loyal States to place at the dis- 
 posal of the Government all the men, money, and 
 material needed for the suppression of the Rebellion had 
 been clearly manifest ever since the fall of Fort Sumter. 
 But the great problem for President Lincoln and his chief 
 helpers was the proper use of the national resources so 
 freely offered to them. There were in all the North but 
 a few hundred men to be found regularly trained for the 
 soldier's trade, while thousands were wanted as officers 
 for immediate service. Even with nine-tenths of the loyal 
 officers of the regular army, practical experience did not 
 go beyond the command of companies. With such a scar- 
 city of qualified persons, it was unavoidable that the larg- 
 est number of officers should be taken from among civil- 
 ians without the knowledge of even the manual of arms. 
 Still, in acting under this necessity, the General Govern- 
 ment and the governments of the several States could 
 certainly have applied the strict test of physical, mental, 
 and moral fitness in the selection of officers. But, unfor- 
 tunately, the Executive saw a welcome and plentiful op- 
 portunity to reward political adherents with commissions 
 in the army, and only too willingly used this extensive new 
 patronage without regard to the fitness of the recipients. 
 As a rule, in all the States, the professional politicians 
 secured the new honors and emoluments. It is safe to 
 say that four-fifths of all the field officers of the three 
 months' regiments appearing in Washington represented 
 this class of men, and the same practice prevailed in the 
 
 176
 
 1861] CIVILIANS MADE OFFICERS 177 
 
 vast levies of volunteers raised subsequently, though to 
 a diminished extent. 
 
 The Federal authorities did no better. In officering the 
 new regiments for the regular army authorized by Con- 
 gress, the most extraordinary appointments were made. 
 Instead of filling the higher places from among the officers 
 who had remained true to the flag, the majority of the 
 field officers were appointed from civil life. Most of the 
 appointees were ordinary politicians having no other than 
 party qualifications. I remember distinctly some of the 
 persons thus favored; one of the notorious cases being the 
 appointment to a full colonelcy, by Secretary Cameron, of 
 a devoted political follower, the chief clerk of the "War 
 Department, who, up to the inauguration, had been the 
 sickly, dried-up, pedantic principal of a second-rate school 
 in Pennsylvania. Commissions of line officers were also 
 systematically distributed among favorites. I had a cu- 
 rious personal experience in this respect. I was myself 
 offered a commission as captain in the regular army by 
 Secretary Chase by way of compliment to the Cincinnati 
 Commercial an offer which, I am free to say, sorely 
 tempted me. About the same time I was induced to in- 
 terest myself in the application for a commission as lieu- 
 tenant of a young German doctor from Buffalo, who was 
 anxious to exchange the scalpel for the sword. I spoke 
 to Mr. Chase regarding him, and a few days later he re- 
 ceived, to his intense surprise, a commission as a captain 
 of infantry. I am sorry to say that my protege did not 
 do honor to my recommendation, being dismissed for cow- 
 ardice on the battle-field before he had served a year. 
 One of my amusements in those days was to witness the 
 private lessons in the rudiments of military lore of the 
 appointees for field officers in the new regular regiments 
 by old drill-sergeants. The difficulties which these colonels, 
 lieutenant-colonels, and majors experienced at first even 
 in keeping step and wheeling about, and later on in the 
 
 manual of arms, led to very comical scenes. I Relieve 
 12
 
 178 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 it is a matter of record that very few of these appointees 
 ever rendered any valuable service to the Government. 
 
 The preparations for war around me had gradually ma- 
 tured my determination to abandon peaceful work in 
 Washington, and to devote myself to the more exciting 
 occupation of a correspondent in the field. I thought 
 it very important to qualify myself as well as possible for 
 my expected new duties, and, accordingly, I purchased 
 a number of standard books in English, French, and Ger- 
 man on strategy and tactics, as well as histories of Freder- 
 ick the Great's, Napoleon's, and Wellington's campaigns, 
 and devoted all my spare time to the study of them. 
 
 Of all the difficulties that confronted the Government, 
 the greatest was, beyond all question, the selection of the 
 proper commanders of the loyal armies then forming 
 about the national capital and at other points. Lieutenant- 
 General Scott was still virtually Commander-in-chief, un- 
 der the President, of all the land forces; but, as already 
 stated, there was no disguising the fact that he was in 
 every way incapable of a proper discharge of the duties 
 of that position, which grew from day to day more onerous 
 and more fraught with the gravest responsibility. He 
 was nearly seventy-five years old, and his physical in- 
 firmities were such that he could scarcely leave his invalid- 
 chair. His mind, too, clearly showed the effect of old age. 
 He formed plans for the coming offensive movements of 
 the troops, but he vacillated much respecting them, and 
 discussed them with indiscreet garrulousness. He was 
 very accessible to newspaper men, having always been fond 
 of newspaper fame and flattery, and I called regularly 
 on him, as did the other correspondents. It took very 
 little to make him talk freely of his purposes. I can still 
 see the stately figure, with the grand head and face, and 
 the snowy hair and whiskers, seated in an arm-chair be- 
 fore a great wall-map of the United States, upon which 
 he explained his strategic ideas with a long pointer. The 
 necessity of superseding him had been apparent to Presi-
 
 1861] MCDOWELL AND MEIGS 179 
 
 dent Lincoln ever since war had become inevitable, but 
 it sorely perplexed him how to do it. The makeshift was 
 finally resorted to of leaving him nominally in supreme 
 command, but giving the command in the field to others 
 practically independent of him. 
 
 In the critical, anxious days in April, the President was 
 persuaded to promote two subordinate officers in the regu- 
 lar army at once to high rank. The alleged object was to 
 give them, as being specially zealous in their loyalty, the 
 necessary authority to insure the protection of the Gov- 
 ernment from the traitorous designs for its overthrow then 
 being prosecuted at the capital. The fortunate men were 
 Major McDowell, and Captain Meigs of the engineer 
 corps, both of whom received the rank of brigadier-general. 
 Their promotions over the heads of nearly all the regular 
 army officers naturally created much jealousy and dis- 
 satisfaction, especially among those who had outranked 
 them, but to whose credit be it said that no resignations re- 
 sulted from this abnormal action. General Meigs assumed 
 charge as quartermaster-general of the entire supply de- 
 partmenta function inferior in importance only to the 
 command of the field forces and General McDowell was 
 placed in command of the troops gathered for the defence 
 of the capital. He owed his brigadier's commission mainly 
 to the influence of Secretary Chase, who had long known 
 him as an Ohio man. The Secretary favored me with a 
 warm introduction to the General, which placed me at 
 once on the best terms with him. He was a man of strong 
 character and much intellectual ability. While his prac- 
 tical military experience was necessarily limited by the 
 narrow opportunities offered in the active service of the 
 small regular army, his theoretical knowledge was very 
 extensive. He was well read in war history. But in my 
 frequent intercourse with him I gained the impression 
 that he lacked the resolute determination which alone 
 could insure success in his trying task of organizing an 
 effective army for aggressive war out of the raw material
 
 180 HENEY VILLARD [1861 
 
 gathering under his command. With his evident want of 
 confidence in himself, he appeared to be full of misgivings 
 from the start. This self-distrust showed itself in his con- 
 stant talk of the difficulties surrounding him and of the 
 doubts he felt of the possibility of overcoming them. Of 
 course, my opinion of his qualifications as a commander 
 was at that time that of a novice and had no value what- 
 ever, but it was decidedly to the effect that, while he might 
 make a very efficient sub-commander, he had not the stuff 
 of a great captain in him. 
 
 All hope of a peaceful settlement with the seceded States 
 had long vanished, but no one as yet foresaw the fearful 
 proportions which the Civil War would assume. The be- 
 lief was still universal that short work would be made 
 by the Federal Government in suppressing the Rebellion. 
 Its great weakness, arising from its Constitutional inabil- 
 ity to call out militia in quotas from the several States for 
 more than three months' service, had been cured by the 
 resolute assumption by Congress of the power to authorize 
 the enlistment of volunteers for three years. All cool- 
 headed and competent advisers of the Government, includ- 
 ing General Scott, deemed it imprudent and dangerous to 
 attempt any decisive offensive movements with the three 
 months' militia, and urged postponement until the three 
 years' men had been sufficiently trained for field service. 
 But too much confidence had been produced in the North 
 by the theory, preached in the press and by political lead- 
 ers, that one vigorous onset would suffice to tumble over 
 and destroy the rebel fabric. This popular feeling was 
 intensified by the removal of the capital of the Southern 
 Confederacy from Montgomery, Alabama, to Richmond, 
 Virginia. The head of the hydra of rebellion having been 
 brought so near the Federal capital, the cry was raised 
 that the honor of the nation required a quick and decisive 
 resentment of this insult, and that it was the duty of the 
 Government forthwith to make one great effort to go for 
 the monster and finish it. The editor of the New York 
 Tribune, Horace Greeley, began daily to blow the loudest
 
 1861] ON TO RICHMOND 181 
 
 trumpet for "On to Richmond." The personal pressure 
 upon the powers in Washington by members of Congress 
 in extra session, too became great, with the result of per- 
 suading them that it was necessary on political grounds to 
 begin an offensive campaign from the Potomac without 
 delay. General Scott and other military advisers reluc- 
 tantly acquiesced after a definite decision to that effect 
 was reached. The Commander-in-chief directed General 
 McDowell to submit a plan of operations, which was con- 
 sidered in detail and agreed upon at a council of war at 
 the White House on June 29, the President, the Cabinet, 
 and the principal military officers participating. 
 
 A brief sketch of the plan will be in place. Virginia for- 
 mally seceded, by popular vote, on May 23, and the State 
 Government immediately took steps to protect its territory 
 from the Northern invasion threatened from two directions 
 from Washington, mainly, and from Pennsylvania, where 
 a Northern force under General Patterson was gathering 
 in the neighborhood of Harper's Ferry. For this purpose, 
 Manassas Junction (the meeting of the railroads from 
 Richmond, Alexandria, and the Shenandoah Valley, thirty- 
 five miles southwest of Washington) and Harper's Ferry 
 were occupied by rebel troops. General Beauregard had 
 been given command at the former, and General Joseph E. 
 Johnston at the latter point. Gradually the rebel forces 
 were increased, and early in June those at Manassas were 
 estimated at about twenty thousand, and those at Harper's 
 Ferry at about eight thousand. General McDowell's plan 
 was to move against Beauregard with his own army, while 
 General Patterson held Johnston in the Shenandoah Val- 
 ley, and while General Butler threatened a direct attack 
 on Richmond from Fortress Monroe; and, after crushing 
 the enemy at Manassas and thereby compelling Johnston 
 to abandon the valley, to unite with Patterson's command 
 for a rapid advance on Richmond. 
 
 Every effort was made by McDowell to get his army in 
 motion within a week after the adoption of the plan for 
 the campaign, but more than two weeks elapsed before
 
 182 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 this was possible. He issued his order to march on July 
 16. His forces were divided into five divisions of unequal 
 strength, ranging from one of nearly 10,000 men down to 
 one of 2,648, commanded respectively by Generals Tyler, 
 Hunter, Heintzelman, Runyon (afterwards ambassador at 
 Berlin) , and Dixon S. Miles. The five divisions represented 
 a total of 34,000 effective men. General Runyon 's division 
 constituted the reserve and did not come into action, so 
 that only about 28,500 men with forty-nine guns and a 
 single battalion of cavalry actually took part in the events 
 to be described. 
 
 I rode every day to Arlington Heights, where McDowell 
 had established his headquarters in the mansion of the 
 future commander-in-chief of the rebel armies, Robert 
 E. Lee, and talked freely with him about the impending 
 movement. He showed anything but confidence in its suc- 
 cess, and plainly displayed distrust of himself and of his 
 soldiery. He repeatedly said that his troops were not yet 
 sufficiently drilled and disciplined for an offensive cam- 
 paign, and that the politicians were responsible for the 
 premature movement, but that he should be the principal 
 victim if it failed, as he feared. At the same time, there 
 could be no doubt that he would do his whole duty to the 
 best of his ability, and to that end he labored day and night. 
 
 I had received early warning of the impending crisis 
 through a newly made acquaintance at headquarters, Cap- 
 tain J. B. Fry, an assistant adjutant-general of the regu- 
 lar army, the Commanding General's chief of staff. The 
 friendly relations then formed with him continued over 
 thirty years. I obtained ready permission to accompany 
 the headquarters. I was already well mounted, and 
 my other preparations for the campaign took very little 
 time. I must confess that I did not share McDowell's ap- 
 prehensions, but believed in the easy triumph of the Union 
 forces over the rebels, and consequently expected a very 
 interesting and satisfactory experience and a prolonged 
 absence from Washington.
 
 Cen
 
 CHAPTEE XIII 
 BLACKBURN'S FORD AND BULL RUN. 1861 
 
 THE advance of the army commenced on July 16. It 
 took so much time to get the several divisions under 
 way from their encampments in the fortifications along 
 Arlington Heights and at Alexandria that only a few 
 miles were accomplished that day. As the headquarters 
 were not to move until the next day, I joined General Tyler 
 and staff, commanding the First Division, which had the 
 lead and had started from near the Georgetown bridge. 
 Coming up with the rear regiment, I had to pass all the 
 troops of the division, as they were following the same 
 road. In passing the brigade commanders and staffs, I 
 rode with them for a time for a chat. Thus I had a short 
 talk with Colonel W. T. Sherman, of the regular army, 
 the future army commander, who had under him the so- 
 called Irish brigade, formed of the Irish New York City 
 regiments. I knew from visits at Fort Corcoran, where 
 the Colonel had had his brigade headquarters, that he was 
 not very proud of his command, which hardly contained a 
 single competent officer, and both the rank and file of 
 which it was especially difficult to discipline properly. But 
 the prospect of active service seemed to have put him into 
 rather good humor. In passing the Sixty-ninth New York 
 regiment, I came up with Captain Thomas Francis Meagher, 
 whose Zouave company formed part of it. He was 
 mounted, but wore a plain undress uniform instead of the 
 gorgeous one already described. As I approached him, I 
 noticed that he was resting his right hand with a cocked 
 revolver on his hip. "Well, Captain," I sang out to 
 him, "you are all ready for the fray?" "Yes," he re- 
 
 183
 
 184 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 plied, "there is nothing like being always ready for the 
 'damned rebs.' ' The leer from his eyes and a certain 
 unsteadiness in the saddle indicated plainly that he had 
 braced himself up internally for the fight. 
 
 General Tyler went into camp near Fairfax Court-House, 
 and I accepted shelter for the night in a wall- tent offered 
 me by one of his staff. For the first time since my Colo- 
 rado experience I slept on the ground, with a waterproof 
 sheet under and a blanket over me, and my saddle for a 
 pillow. The reveille was sounded before sunrise, and we 
 were in motion again shortly after five. We expected to 
 have a first encounter with the enemy at Centre ville, a 
 small straggling village on the Warrenton turnpike about 
 six miles from Fairfax, but found it evacuated. The few 
 remaining inhabitants reported that the rebel troops had 
 withdrawn behind Bull Run, a small stream some three 
 miles to the west. A halt was made at Centreville, and the 
 division went into camp about the village for the day. 
 General Tyler's orders were "to observe well the roads," 
 under which he felt justified in making a reconnoissance 
 in the direction of the enemy, and, accordingly, he set 
 out for that purpose, escorted by a company of cavalry 
 and two companies of infantry. I was permitted to ride 
 with him. We took a road in a southerly direction towards 
 "Blackburn's Ford" of Bull Run. About noon, we had 
 reached an orchard on a plateau commanding a wide view 
 of the surrounding country, from which clear fields 
 sloped down for about one-third of a mile to the thickly 
 wooded banks of the stream, along which, according to 
 our information, rebel troops were concealed. General 
 Tyler concluded to rouse the game in the woods below by 
 artillery, and sent orders to bring up Captain Ricketts's 
 regular battery, supported by Colonel Richardson's bri- 
 gade. The battery reached the position with its support 
 about three o'clock, and a section unlimbered directly and 
 commenced shelling the woods. These were the first cannon- 
 shots fired against the rebels in front of Washington, and
 
 1861] FIRST SHOTS AT BULL RUN 185 
 
 quite excited me. The fire was continued without elicit- 
 ing any response, when the General ordered it to cease and 
 skirmishers to be thrown out, and advanced down the slope. 
 
 Two other newspaper correspondents had appeared on 
 foot with the infantry E. C. Stedman, the poet and 
 critic, and E. H. House, long connected with the New York 
 Tribune, and well known as essayist and critic till he 
 abandoned the profession to become American consul in 
 Japan for many years. As we three felt very hungry, I 
 dismounted and left my horse in charge of an officer's 
 servant, and we followed the skirmishers down the road 
 to a farm-house within a hundred yards of the woods, in 
 the hope of getting something to eat. We found the house 
 locked and apparently deserted. Espying a well-laden 
 cherry-tree, I climbed it in order to supply myself and 
 friends with the fruit. I had just got on a branch when 
 suddenly a terrific roar burst out from the woods seem- 
 ingly within a few steps of us, followed by a mighty whiz- 
 zing and clattering all around us. The rebel infantry in 
 the woods had fired a volley against the skirmishers. In 
 less than a minute another volley followed, accompanied 
 by the same great roar and the small noises all around us. 
 It then flashed upon us that the latter were caused by thou- 
 sands of bullets whistling by us and striking the farm build- 
 ings, fences, and trees round about. We were, indeed, 
 right in the line of fire of a whole rebel brigade. With 
 the second volley there came also the deep detonations of 
 artillery fire. Then there was a deafening crash, and I 
 found myself thrown from the tree to the ground. Sted- 
 man and House shouted, "Are you hurt?" from their 
 shelter behind the farm-house, to which they had rushed 
 after the second volley. Fortunately, no harm had be- 
 fallen me. 
 
 The rebel fire continued violently, and was answered by 
 our skirmishers and the regiments and two guns that came 
 hurrying down the slope to their support. As the ene- 
 my's musketry and artillery swept the entire slope, it was
 
 186 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 not safe for us to attempt to get out of their reach, and 
 so we remained in our protected position behind the main 
 farm building till the skirmish was over. Our men had 
 entered the woods, but were driven back in confusion by 
 the irresistible fire from the concealed rebel lines. An- 
 other regiment having joined them, other attempts to 
 force the rebel line followed, but all failed. It was nearly 
 six o'clock before our troops were withdrawn and we were 
 released from our uncomfortable position. 
 
 The outcome of the affair was about sixty killed and 
 wounded on each side. General Tyler was subsequently 
 much criticised for the unnecessary, fruitless loss of life 
 and limb, as he was not authorized to make a reconnois- 
 sance in force. But it is an open question whether the 
 demonstration of the presence of the enemy in strong num- 
 bers at Blackburn's Ford did not help General McDowell 
 in forming proper plans for the succeeding movements. 
 As for myself, I had certainly had a strong foretaste of 
 actual war. Though not a combatant, I had undergone 
 the formal baptism of fire, and a fire as hot as I was ever 
 under in my varied adventures as a war correspondent. 
 I can truly say that the music of "bullet, ball, and grape- 
 shot" never had much terror for me thereafter. 
 
 I was glad to mount my horse again and make my way 
 back to Centreville in search of food for man and beast, 
 and of lodging for the night. On reaching the village, 
 I was hailed from the porch of a spacious dwelling by an- 
 other newspaper man, who, with some others, had taken 
 possession of it in the absence of the white owners and 
 induced the black servants to cook supper and breakfast 
 for them. I gladly accepted an invitation to share their 
 comforts. My horse was also well taken care of. 
 
 The cannonading at Blackburn's Ford had caused the 
 march of the other divisions to be accelerated, as a serious 
 engagement between the First Division and the enemy 
 was supposed to be going on. The whole army was well 
 concentrated in and about Centreville, where General Me-
 
 1861] ^PLAN OF ATTACK 187 
 
 Dowell also joined it on the evening of the 18th. It still lay 
 in camp on the two following days, Friday, the 19th, and 
 Saturday, the 20th. General McDowell devoted that time 
 to getting all possible information about the roads to Ma- 
 nassas, the condition of the several crossings of Bull Eun 
 by bridges and fords, and the distribution of the enemy's 
 forces, in order to formulate his plans for further opera- 
 tions. What was ascertained regarding the natural and 
 artificial difficulties (abattis, rifle-pits, and batteries in po- 
 sition) of effecting a crossing of Bull Run on the direct line 
 to the Junction, made him abandon his original plan of 
 turning Beauregard's right flank from the south and de- 
 cide to attempt a flanking movement from the north, con- 
 cealed by a front attack. He informed his division com- 
 manders accordingly on the evening of the 18th; but the 
 engineers, not getting through with the necessary recon- 
 noissances before the afternoon of Saturday, the 20th, the 
 execution of the modified plan was not attempted before 
 the next day. 
 
 On Saturday night the division commanders assembled 
 at headquarters to receive their final instructions. The 
 Warrenton turnpike formed the main street of Centre- 
 ville and ran thence directly southwest to Bull Run, which 
 it crossed on a solid stone bridge of two arches, to which 
 Beauregard's left flank extended. General Tyler was or- 
 dered to move with his division over the turnpike to the 
 bridge, a distance of three miles and a half, and there 
 make a feint attack. Hunter and Heintzelman were or- 
 dered to make a circuitous night march northward, cross 
 Bull Run at Sudley Springs, between two and three miles 
 above the stone bridge, follow the stream down to the 
 latter, and, taking from the rear the armed fortifications 
 which the enemy were supposed to have at that point, 
 open the way for the crossing of Tyler's division. The 
 three divisions should then jointly attack the rebel left. 
 Miles 's division was to remain in reserve at Centreville. 
 Richardson's brigade was to threaten Blackburn's Ford.
 
 188 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 The army was aroused at midnight, and, soon after, the 
 three attacking divisions were ready to move. I did not 
 fully know the plan of battle, but supposed that Tyler's 
 division, as it took the lead, would play the principal part 
 and therefore joined its staff. There was unfortunately but 
 the one turnpike for all to march on, so that Hunter and 
 Heintzelman were delayed for hours, and it was nine 
 o'clock when the advance reached Sudley Springs, where 
 it crossed readily without opposition. 
 
 Tyler reached the stone bridge shortly after daybreak, 
 but made his feint only after he had learned of the close 
 approach of the other divisions to the ford above. We saw 
 the rebel forces guarding the bridge retreat, but, as the 
 bridge was supposed to be mined, no attempt was made 
 to pass it. General Tyler let the infantry of Sherman's 
 and Keyes's brigades cross the stream half a mile above, 
 the men getting wet to their hips, and march over a mile 
 of level bottom in the direction of the heavy firing that 
 had been heard for some time. A junction was effected 
 with Hunter, and the division made front with Sherman 
 on the right and Keyes on the left, and moved forward 
 in a westerly direction. General Tyler and staff followed 
 in the immediate rear of Keyes's brigade. It soon became 
 evident that, owing either to the nature of the ground 
 or to the fact that Sherman was drawn away by keeping 
 in close touch with the more oblique movement of Hunter 's 
 division I never was able to learn the real cause Keyes's 
 brigade had become isolated from the rest of the attack- 
 ing forces. Indeed, it remained after this a separate com- 
 mand, unable to hold communication during the battle 
 either with Sherman or with General McDowell. It 
 thus turned out that my accompanying Tyler was a fatal 
 mistake, as, though we heard the constant rattle of mus- 
 ketry and booming of artillery, we were kept in entire 
 ignorance of the course of events on the field. In fact, all 
 we saw of the battle was the limited part played by Keyes's 
 brigade in it. I realized all this early in the afternoon,
 
 1861] BULL RUN 189 
 
 and felt very much tempted to strike out alone for the 
 general headquarters, but, being utterly ignorant of their 
 whereabouts, I concluded that a search for them at a ven- 
 ture involved too much risk, and remained. General Tyler 
 and his staff also felt the awkwardness of their position 
 very keenly, and vainly hoped from minute to minute to 
 come again in touch with Sherman or the other divisions. 
 Sherman had, indeed, by his movement come under the 
 direct orders of General McDowell. 
 
 Keyes's brigade kept slowly moving to the left of the 
 Warrenton turnpike over broken ground covered with 
 woods and thickets, and gradually reached Young's Branch 
 of Bull Run, crossing which, he came up with the enemy 
 about two o'clock. Two regiments charged up a hill and 
 drove the rebels from about a cluster of farm-buildings, 
 but hostile batteries opened so severely upon them that 
 they could not hold the gained position. During this at- 
 tack I was again exposed to a heavy fire of small and 
 large guns, but neither as severe nor as sustained as that 
 at Blackburn 's Ford. This was the only actual taste I had 
 of the memorable first battle of Bull Run. 
 
 After this futile effort, Keyes's brigade rested on its 
 arms along Young's Branch. The firing had steadily con- 
 tinued during the afternoon until after four o'clock, when 
 it gradually died out. Ominous feelings came over us, 
 and our fears that disaster had overtaken our side were 
 soon after confirmed by an aide-de-camp of General Tyler, 
 who had set out nearly two hours before for another effort 
 to reach General McDowell, and returned with the terrible 
 news that the Union forces were in full retreat. The Gen- 
 eral at once ordered the withdrawal of the brigade in the 
 direction of the stone bridge. Feeling confident that I 
 could find my way back alone, I rode in advance as fast 
 as the ground permitted. 
 
 As my object in penning these memoirs is to describe my 
 personal experiences, not to write formal history, I shall 
 not attempt to give a full account of the course of the
 
 190 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 action in the other parts of the field, or a full analysis of 
 the causes that led to the disastrous defeat of McDowell's 
 army. Even if I undertook to do this, I should no doubt 
 fail in the task, for the official and unofficial accounts of 
 the battle on both sides are extremely confused, fragmen- 
 tary, and contradictory. It will suffice for me to give, 
 from the most authentic sources, a brief summary of what 
 happened to our right on the ill-starred day, including 
 the personal statements made to me subsequently by Gen- 
 eral McDowell, the division and brigade commanders, and 
 some of the staff officers. 
 
 The skirmishers leading the flanking movement of Hun- 
 ter and Heintzelman 's divisions became engaged with the 
 enemy at about ten o'clock, and soon afterwards the ad- 
 vancing columns were fully exposed to showers of rebel 
 bullets, balls, and shells. The advance came to a stop, 
 and the artillery of the two divisions was brought into 
 play for some time. Only a small force was at first 
 opposed to the divisions, which they would doubtless 
 have easily swept out of their way if they had not 
 halted. The stop of the attacking columns enabled the 
 enemy to bring up reinforcements in the shape of four 
 regiments that had arrived the day before with General 
 Johnston from the Shenandoah Valley. Sherman's bri- 
 gade having in the meantime joined Hunter on the left, 
 the advance was resumed by our side. The rebels, though 
 much weaker, resisted vigorously, and the severest fight- 
 ing of the day occurred then, lasting over an hour. The 
 enemy were finally forced back along their whole line for 
 nearly a mile, so that between one and two o'clock vic- 
 tory seemed certain for the Unionists. Jefferson Davis, 
 who had come up from Richmond the day before, and 
 Beauregard and Johnston were thrown into consternation 
 by the stream of demoralized officers and men that came 
 pouring back from the front. But the very success 
 achieved by our troops was to be the cause of their failure. 
 The advance, being on exterior lines, as it were, and spread-
 
 1861] BULL RUN 191 
 
 ing the front wider and wider like a fan, resulted in 
 loss of cohesion between the divisions, brigades, and regi- 
 ments. The advantage of continuous unity of command 
 was also wanting. It cannot be said that the army as a 
 whole had the benefit of intelligent general direction at 
 any time during the day. The division and brigade com- 
 manders and even partly the regimental commanders were 
 left to their own devices. Much of this lack of guidance 
 and the consequent confusion was due to the early com- 
 pulsory retirement of Brigade-Commander Hunter from 
 the field upon receiving a severe wound. Moreover, owing 
 to the fatigue of the troops, who had been on their feet 
 since midnight, and their exhaustion from the intense July 
 heat, more and more men lagged behind as the forward 
 movement proceeded, and the temporary success in the 
 noon hour was probably achieved by less than two-thirds 
 of the effective force that had set out from Centreville. 
 Deducting the killed, wounded, and disabled, the stragglers 
 and skulkers, from the effective number of the two and 
 one-half divisions (Hunter's and Heintzelman 's, with Sher- 
 man's brigade) at the start, doubtless only about ten 
 thousand Unionists remained confronting the enemy at one 
 o'clock, and they were drawn out on a long, irregular, and 
 barely connected line, and were tired and suffering from 
 hunger and thirst. Nor was there any reserve available to 
 make up for the depletion of their ranks. 
 
 Only Beauregard's left flank, with the four regiments 
 from the Shenandoah Valley, had so far been engaged. 
 In falling back before the Union troops, it had reached a 
 strong position on a wooded plateau commanding the lower 
 ground over which the Federals would have to pass in push- 
 ing their attack. Here both the rebel commanders, John- 
 ston and Beauregard, themselves took charge. They were 
 now convinced that there the main effort of the Federals 
 was being made, and that no other part of their line was 
 actively endangered. So they ordered regiments from 
 their centre and right to the threatened position. Most
 
 192 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 luckily for them, too, the remainder of Johnston's com- 
 mand from the Shenandoah Valley arrived by rail during 
 the early afternoon in time to participate in the action. 
 Thus gradually a rebel force was gathered superior to 
 their opponents in numbers and freshness and much better 
 held in hand. When the Unionists resumed their advance, 
 the rebels successfully resisted their rather desultory at- 
 tacks at different points. With every unsuccessful on- 
 ward attempt there was a rapid melting away of the 
 assailants. Fewer and fewer officers and men could be 
 rallied for another advance. Towards four o'clock, the 
 rebels felt strong enough to take the offensive. A brigade 
 with a battery under Earle managed to strike the Federal 
 right on the flank and rear and throw it into utter con- 
 fusion, which spread rapidly along the whole front. Now 
 came the disastrous, disgraceful end. Without any formal 
 orders to retreat, what was left of the several organiza- 
 tions yielded to a general impulse to abandon the field. 
 Officers and men became controlled by the one thought of 
 getting as far as possible from the enemy. Three-fourths 
 were quickly reduced to the condition of a motley, panic- 
 stricken mob. Not that resolute efforts were not made 
 by the General-in-chief and some of the commanders under 
 him to insure an orderly retreat. They were all in vain. 
 The morale of the army was entirely gone, and the instinct 
 of self-preservation alone animated the flying mass. 
 
 When I rode away from Keyes's brigade towards the 
 stone bridge, this rearward movement had not yet reached 
 its full dimensions, but the Warrenton turnpike was al- 
 ready swarming with fugitives from the battle-field, going 
 towards Centreville. I made inquiries at the bridge from 
 every passing officer as to the whereabouts of General Mc- 
 Dowell's headquarters, but no one could direct me to them. 
 I concluded to wait at the bridge for developments. I had 
 not watched the tide of runaways for more than twenty 
 minutes when one of Hunter's staff officers came dashing 
 down the pike on horseback. I stopped him to repeat my
 
 1861] THE RETREAT 193 
 
 question about McDowell, when he exclaimed excitedly, 
 "You won't find him. All is chaos in front. The battle 
 is lost. Our troops are all giving way and falling back 
 without orders. Get back to Centreville, ' ' and galloped on. 
 I waited a while longer till other officers and the increasing 
 flow of retreating soldiery confirmed the news of the gen- 
 eral retreat, and then resumed my ride. 
 
 A quarter of a mile to the east of the bridge, I found 
 the turnpike blocked by a double line of army wagons, so 
 that my horse could hardly pass them. Half a mile fur- 
 ther, I came upon an immovable mass of supply and am- 
 munition wagons, ambulances, and other vehicles, that 
 extended as far as I could see and made further progress 
 on the pike impossible. Fortunately, the persons in charge 
 had already opened a way through the adjacent fields 
 by pulling down the fences. But it occurred to me at 
 once to what further disaster to the Union army this chok- 
 ing up of their main line of retreat might lead. I took it 
 upon myself to call the attention of a passing officer of the 
 quartermaster's department to this danger, and he at once 
 proceeded to try his best to remove the tangle. Time and 
 again, owing to such obstacles, I had to leave the turnpike 
 and proceed through the fields, even having to open a 
 way myself by pulling down fences. I was lucky enough 
 to find no obstruction on the small suspension-bridge over 
 Cob Run. A short distance beyond this I came upon 
 another blockade, in which were involved a number of 
 hackney carriages with members of Congress, some of them 
 known to me, who had driven out from Washington that 
 day and were trying to get to the front to witness the 
 great victory which the favorable course of the action 
 up to the afternoon had led them to expect. They had 
 heard nothing of the defeat, and would not believe me 
 when I told them the bad news. 
 
 I passed on, and had not left them more than five 
 minutes when I was startled by the sound of artillery in 
 close proximity behind me. A rebel cavalry detachment 
 
 13
 
 194 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 with a battery section, sent to cut off our retreat, had sud- 
 denly emerged from the woods to the south of the turnpike, 
 and commenced shelling it. A shell hit the horses of a sup- 
 ply-wagon. Shell after shell exploded over and on the 
 roadway, and some of the rebel cavalry dashed up, yelling 
 with all their might. The turnpike and the adjacent fields 
 became instantly the scene of a wild panic. The team- 
 sters jumped off their wagons and ran away as fast as 
 they could. Even ambulances with wounded were de- 
 serted. The retreating soldiers all the way from the stone 
 bridge were seized with fright, and started on a full run 
 through the fields in swarms of hundreds and thousands, 
 throwing away their arms and accoutrements, knapsacks, 
 haversacks, and blankets. Within a few minutes after the 
 first rebel gun had been fired, a wild, senseless rabble 
 came rushing by me on foot, horseback, and muleback. 
 A good many soldiers detached animals from wagons and 
 galloped off on them. The members of Congress and 
 other civilians also abandoned their private vehicles, and 
 joined afoot in the race for safety. Among the fugitives 
 there was a well-known newspaper correspondent, who 
 had caught and mounted bareback a badly bleeding ar- 
 tillery horse, and was urging him to extreme speed by 
 merciless cudgelling. The terrified crowds presented a piti- 
 ful and humiliating sight. Starting again, filled with 
 greater fears than before for the fate of the army, I rode 
 all the way amid runaways, soldiers and officers of all 
 ranks I noticed among them fellows with the straps of 
 majors and lieutenant-colonels and a mixture of civilians, 
 to Centreville, where I arrived shortly before six o'clock, 
 travel-stained, dust-covered, and about as tired, hungry, 
 thirsty, and disgusted with all the world as a human being 
 could well be. 
 
 Our nice quarters had fortunately not been occupied, 
 as I had feared, by other ' ' invaders. ' ' After securing some 
 food for myself and for my worn-out beast, I started on 
 a hunt for the general headquarters in and about the vil-
 
 1861] THE RETREAT 195 
 
 lage, in order to learn what decision had been reached 
 in consequence of the loss of the battle, and thereby govern 
 my own movements. But I could not find any trace of the 
 Commander-in-chief and staff. They had evidently not 
 yet returned from the field, if they had escaped capture. 
 Complete confusion prevailed in the village, nobody being 
 able to find anybody or knowing what to do. While wan- 
 dering about in search of information, I came up with the 
 head of Colonel Blenker's brigade, which had advanced 
 with the other brigade of the reserve division to near 
 Blackburn's Ford, but was now retreating in obedience 
 to orders from the division commander. Colonel Blenker 
 had not yet heard the full extent of the disaster, but, on 
 learning it from me, formed a line with his command 
 across the main road from Centreville to Fairfax and 
 awaited developments. The other brigade did likewise. 
 Meantime the flow of the stream of demoralized mankind, 
 on foot and mounted, and with no end of vehicles of every 
 sort, poured steadily through the village. There was no 
 attempt to stop or rally the troops by the numerous field 
 and other officers who floated by with the current. I re- 
 turned to my quarters and sat down on the porch, where 
 I found Messrs. House and Stedman, Mr. Glenn of the Cin- 
 cinnati Gazette, Mr. Painter of the Philadelphia Inquirer, 
 and others. 
 
 Between eight and nine, the remnants of organiza- 
 tions of Keyes's, Burnside's, and Sherman's brigades 
 reached the place, from w r hose officers we learned that 
 McDowell was behind them, and that a stand would be 
 made. We watched the street sights till after nine, when 
 my companions determined to seek a night's rest, in the 
 belief that the army would rally about the village. I 
 thought it more prudent to make sure of this, if possible, 
 at headquarters, and set out again in quest of them. I 
 discovered them at the further end of the village. General 
 McDowell was in a building engaged in receiving reports, 
 so that I could not reach him. Captain Fry, however,
 
 196 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 told me that orders had been first given for a rally of the 
 retreating army at Centreville, but the clear evidences of 
 the hopeless demoralization of the troops which they had 
 observed on the way from the battle-field had shaken the 
 General's determination. He was then, however, inform- 
 ing himself, by consultation with sub-commanders and 
 staff officers, as to whether a rally was still advisable and 
 practicable. Shortly after ten, if I remember the time cor- 
 rectly, I was informed that a retreat to Washington had 
 been determined upon, and would be immediately ordered. 
 It was no surprise to me, as I had become satisfied during 
 the evening that there was nothing else left. 
 
 I hurried back to our quarters, and did my duty to my 
 friends by waking and telling them the news and urging 
 them to lose no time in starting back. Two acted promptly 
 and got away, but the other two Glenn and Painter 
 could not rouse themselves sufficiently and fell asleep again. 
 They woke late in the morning, and, when they had lei- 
 surely dressed themselves and come down for breakfast, 
 found several officers in rebel uniform sitting on the ver- 
 anda. Fortunately, they were taken by these to belong 
 to the family owning the house, and politely asked whether 
 breakfast could be had. They had presence of mind 
 enough to answer, ' ' Oh, yes, with pleasure ' ' ; and, pre- 
 tending to go in search of the servants, managed to make 
 their escape from the rear of the house by climbing over 
 a fence into an adjacent corn-field, and so safely reaching 
 the woods to which it extended. They arrived in Wash- 
 ington very much elated, of course, at their adventure. 
 
 I lost no time in making for the stable, saddled my horse, 
 and in a few minutes was trotting along the Fairfax road. 
 My newspaper instinct was fully aroused. I saw a chance 
 of outstripping the rival correspondents with a report of 
 the battle by reaching Washington as quickly as possible. 
 For that purpose it was essential that I should get in ad- 
 vance of troops retreating in formation, and of supply 
 and other trains. My horse had had three hours' rest
 
 1861] THE ROUT 197 
 
 and a good meal, and would surely be equal to the eighteen 
 miles' ride. But within a few hundred yards of the east 
 end of the village, I found myself stopped on the highway 
 not only by immense trains of loaded army wagons in the 
 road, but by camps of teamsters and soldiers on both sides 
 of it. I was obliged to dismount and find my way in the 
 dark with the greatest difficulty through and around these 
 impediments. It was nearly one in the morning when I at 
 last was able to go ahead again at a fast trot on a clear road. 
 Still, even for the rest of the way, I frequently passed 
 squads of runaways from the front that must have left 
 the field early in the afternoon and made the best use of 
 their legs ever since. Some were wearily worrying on, 
 others resting on the roadside or cooking meals at camp- 
 fires. Some of those who were halting, being hidden from 
 view by the darkness, amused themselves by sending forth 
 rebel yells so as to frighten the passers-by into the belief 
 that they had fallen upon a rebel ambuscade, and into a 
 dead run for life or rather from imprisonment. The first 
 attempt of the kind deceived me, too, so that I spurred my 
 beast to his greatest possible speed. 
 
 About daybreak I passed the camp of a regiment of 
 Pennsylvania three months' men, whose term of service 
 had expired the day before, and who had insisted on 
 marching away from the front to the very sound of the 
 battle. So little martial spirit had been developed in a 
 good portion of the army! A little while later I heard 
 the clatter of hoofs behind me, and, looking back, perceived 
 a mounted officer approaching at full speed. As he came 
 nearer, I saw he wore nothing on his head and was very 
 bald. I soon recognized in him Colonel Ambrose E. Burn- 
 side, of the First Regiment of Rhode Island Volunteers, 
 who had commanded a brigade under Heintzelman in the 
 battle. There he was, hatless, swordless, and all alone, 
 making the best of time on his fine black charger. I 
 had made his acquaintance in his camp at Washington, 
 and hence spoke to him as he hastened by, He did not
 
 198 HENRY VTLLARD [1861 
 
 stop to talk, but merely exclaimed, "I am hurrying ahead 
 to get rations for my command." But this struck me as 
 preposterous, as such duties were not performed by regi- 
 mental commanders, and as it did not account for his being 
 without hat and sword. From this incident, I conceived a 
 natural prejudice against his trustworthiness as a general 
 officer, which my later observations of him as a corps and 
 army commander confirmed. 
 
 I reached the fortifications on the Alexandria road, about 
 a mile south of the western end of Long Bridge, near five 
 o'clock. Here I was detained for a while, owing to my 
 semi-military garb and the military accoutrements of my 
 horse, which compelled the guards to apply their orders 
 not to let any officers or men pass on to Washington. The 
 officer on duty was finally called, and let me go on. It was 
 half -past five when I reached the livery-stable where I 
 boarded my horse, and thence sought my rooms. The 
 streets of the capital were as lifeless as usual at that early 
 hour, and most of the inhabitants were doubtless uncon- 
 scious of the portentous events of the previous day. 
 
 It will be readily understood in what state of physical 
 exhaustion I was, after eighteen hours of great fatigue and 
 excitement with but one meal; but I had no right to rest 
 before I had done my duty to the Herald. During the night 
 ride I had thought out what seemed to be the best course 
 in reporting the battle. My knowledge of the details of 
 the fighting was very limited, but I had picked up enough 
 information for an intelligible and nearly correct summary 
 of what had occurred. I determined, therefore, to pre- 
 pare first a succinct report of say six hundred words for 
 transmission by wire when the telegraph-office opened at 
 seven A.M. (In those days the unlimited telegraphing now 
 universally practised by the press was not dreamt of, and 
 I was not free to send more over the wires without special 
 permission of the editor-in-chief, to obtain which would 
 have meant fatal delay.) Next I would allow myself six 
 or seven hours' sleep, and in the afternoon endeavor to col-
 
 1861] BACK IN WASHINGTON 199 
 
 lect further material for a fuller account by the last even- 
 ing mail. It took me only half an hour to write out my 
 despatch, so that before leaving it at the main telegraph- 
 office I had time for an early breakfast at Willard's Hotel. 
 The despatch reached its destination before eight, and was 
 printed at once as an extra. It was the first revelation to 
 the New York public of the extent of the national disaster, 
 and as such created a great sensation, but was not imme- 
 diately credited. 
 
 I slept until two P.M., dined, and then went to the War 
 Department in search of more matter for my mail report. 
 I soon found that they knew less of details than I did, and 
 that General McDowell had reestablished his headquarters 
 at Arlington Heights. I reluctantly rode there, and was 
 fortunate enough to find Captain Fry, whom I persuaded 
 to dictate to me substantially his recollections and im- 
 pressions of the battle. What he told me of the orders 
 that had been given by General McDowell, and to what 
 extent they had not been executed, was especially valuable 
 for my purpose. Equally so were his free comments upon 
 the causes of the disaster, chief among which he considered 
 the incapacity of commanding officers, the lack of courage 
 and discipline among the troops, and, above all, the non- 
 fulfilment of General Scott's promise that " if Johnston 
 joined Beauregard, he should have Patterson on his heels. ' ' 
 
 As I did not get back to Washington before nearly six 
 o'clock, there was no time left to get my full report ready 
 for the last evening mail ; hence I wired for leave to trans- 
 mit, it wholly by telegraph, which was granted. I com- 
 menced work at half-past six and was through at half-past 
 ten. Two office-boys kept running to the main telegraph- 
 office with the successively finished sheets of the manu- 
 script, so that, within a few minutes after my work was 
 done, the last instalment was being flashed to New York. 
 I felt well satisfied with what I had written and confident 
 that it would prove quite a hit for me. Alas! when it 
 reached me in print, I discovered, to my great disgust,
 
 200 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 that so much of it had been stricken out or altered that 
 I could no longer feel any pride in the mutilated remnant 
 as my own production. The reason for this treatment was 
 that I had indulged in a good deal of merciless criticism 
 on the lines indicated by Captain Fry, which my em- 
 ployers were afraid to publish. I had been particularly 
 severe on some of the New York regiments and their 
 officers, and the editor did not dare to print my fulmina- 
 tions on my authority alone. The excuse and compliments 
 in the editor's explanatory letter to me were poor compen- 
 sation for my disappointment. 
 
 There was plenty of work for some time in Washington 
 in collecting and verifying more particular information 
 about the battle, correcting first reports in the light of it, 
 and obtaining lists of the casualties. But, by the begin- 
 ning of August, the Government and Congress had settled 
 down to still more determined endeavors, on a far greater 
 scale than before, for the suppression of the Rebellion. 
 It was evident that a long time would elapse before a 
 new army could be organized and got ready for another 
 offensive movement from Washington, and that nothing 
 would be left for me to do at the capital. It was the 
 general belief, shared by the Government, that Missouri 
 and Kentucky would soon be the scene of active operations. 
 I therefore proposed to the editor of the Herald that I be 
 sent to one or other of these States. I was invited to come 
 to New York for a personal consultation, and the result 
 was that I was given a fortnight's vacation, at the end of 
 which I was to go to Louisville, to watch the course of 
 events in Kentucky.
 
 MEMOIRS OF HENEY VILLAED 
 
 BOOK THEEE 
 IN CIVIL-WAR TIME: SHILOH
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 KENTUCKY IN THE SUMMER AND FALL OF 1861 
 
 I REACHED Louisville during the last week of August, 
 1861, and took a room at the Gait House, the largest 
 and best hotel in the city, kept by Captain Silas Miller, 
 well known throughout the Southwest as a successful com- 
 mander of Ohio and Mississippi steamboats. He was a 
 staunch and enthusiastic Unionist, owing to which his 
 house was sought by the Kentucky loyalists and shunned 
 by the rebel sympathizers. Louisville could boast of a 
 good deal of commercial activity in ordinary times, but 
 its business was then at a standstill from the stoppage of 
 trade between North and South, and the almost entire 
 cessation of steamboating on the Ohio. Many of the busi- 
 ness men and the majority of the young men of the place 
 had gone South to join their fate to that of the Confed- 
 eracy. Hence, the streets wore a very quiet and even de- 
 serted look. The hotel, too, was almost empty. I had 
 a few letters of introduction, one to Mr. Speed, the post- 
 master, a friend of President Lincoln and brother of the 
 future Attorney- General, and another to a Northern family 
 by the name of Cowan. Both led to very pleasant, though 
 limited, social relations, as four-fifths of the upper class 
 favored the South and showed the utmost animosity to- 
 wards the loyal element. I also made the acquaintance of 
 George D. Prentice, the poet-journalist, editor of the 
 Louisville Journal, and of his principal assistants, with 
 all of whom I was soon on such good terms that their 
 editorial rooms became a familiar resort for me. Mr. 
 Tyler, the agent of the New York Associated Press, a native 
 of Massachusetts, and his wife likewise became my friends. 
 
 203
 
 204 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 They were elderly people, and had their peculiarities, 
 but were very intelligent and ardent loyalists. His office 
 was near the hotel, and it soon became my practice to visit 
 it regularly after supper in order to learn and discuss the 
 latest news. 
 
 The political situation in the State was stirring and 
 threatening, and furnished ample material for corre- 
 spondence. Ever since the secession of the cotton States, 
 incessant efforts had been made by the local rebel sympa- 
 thizers to make Kentucky join the Southern cause. The 
 Governor, Magoffin, did everything in his power to bring 
 this about. All through the winter and spring the outcome 
 remained doubtful. Although secession sentiments pre- 
 vailed among the upper classes, the majority of the people 
 of the State were doubtless for the maintenance of the 
 Union, but the loyal feeling was not strong enough for 
 immediate, hearty, unconditional support of the Federal 
 Government. There was a general disposition, indeed, 
 even among the leading opponents of secession, to pro- 
 nounce against the coercion of the rebellious States by 
 force of arms, and to pursue a non-committal, selfish policy 
 of neutrality between North and South, in order to pro- 
 tect the State from the horrors of civil war. Thus, they 
 supported the rebel sympathizer in the gubernatorial chair 
 in his direct refusal, in the name of the State, to furnish 
 its quota of troops under the first call of President Lincoln 
 for 75,000 men. They also approved the action of the 
 Legislature in calling out a force of militia to prevent the 
 "invasion" of its soil by either belligerent. 
 
 The Government at Washington was weak enough 
 mainly owing to Lincoln's tenderness for his native State 
 to bear with this undutifulness to the Union for a 
 time, but the impracticability of such passiveness became 
 gradually manifest. The incessant endeavors of Magoffin, 
 Simon B. Buckner, the commander of the ''State Guards" 
 (the militia called out ostensibly to enforce neutrality, 
 but ready to fight for the South), ex-Vice-President John
 
 1861] CONTEST FOR KENTUCKY 205 
 
 C. Breckinridge, George B. Crittenden, Humphrey Mar- 
 shall, and other conspirators to implicate the State in the 
 Rebellion soon compelled a different course. The Union 
 leaders recognized the necessity of active counter-efforts, 
 and brought about the organization of their followers in 
 clubs and military bodies. The Government had sent Gen- 
 eral Anderson, of Fort Sumter fame, to Cincinnati in 
 May, on a secret mission for promoting the enlistment of 
 volunteers from Kentucky and Virginia in the United 
 States service. Simultaneously, William Nelson, a lieu- 
 tenant in the United States Navy, a Kentuckian by birth, 
 of unbounded loyal enthusiasm, to whom President Lin- 
 coln's attention had been called, was relieved from naval 
 duty and permitted to go to his native State and take 
 charge of the formal military organization of the Union- 
 ists. I had made his acquaintance in Washington through 
 his brother, United States Minister to Chili under President 
 Lincoln. He was thirty-six years old, over six feet high, 
 with a mighty frame, a stentorian voice, a Jove-like head, 
 of tireless, infectious energy, and altogether a remarkable 
 personality. Under his direction, five thousand muskets, 
 sent by the Government, were brought into the State and 
 distributed among the "Home Guards," as the loyalists 
 were designated in distinction from the secessionist "State 
 Guards." Through the influence of General Anderson, 
 nearly two thousand Kentucky Volunteers had been gath- 
 ered in a camp on the Ohio side a short distance above 
 Cincinnati, and formed into the First and Second Regiments 
 of Kentucky Volunteers. Lovell H. Rousseau, a Louisville 
 lawyer and politician, obtained authority to enlist a bri- 
 gade of loyal Kentuckians, but likewise deemed it pru- 
 dent to establish his recruiting camp outside of the State, 
 just opposite Louisville on the Indiana side. These mea- 
 sures had strengthened the Union sentiment greatly and 
 borne fruit in the August State election, which resulted in 
 an overwhelming victory for the loyalists, three-quarters 
 of the new Legislature being of their persuasion. Nelson
 
 206 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 thereupon immediately established a recruiting camp on 
 his native soil, called Camp Dick Robinson, in the central 
 part of the State, between Danville and Lexington, and 
 soon had gathered several thousand men together. 
 
 Meantime, the rebel leaders had not been idle. The 
 "State Guards" had been strengthened. Mass meetings 
 of their sympathizers were to be held during August at 
 different points, at which it was presumed the secession 
 of the State would be openly proclaimed and carried out 
 by simultaneous military movements upon the State capi- 
 tal. Governor Magoffin was to furnish the pretence for the 
 outbreak by making a formal demand upon President Lin- 
 coln for a discontinuance of Federal recruiting in the State, 
 which, of course, would be refused. But the growth of the 
 Union feeling brought these schemes to naught, and, when 
 I reached Louisville, it was so greatly in the ascendant that 
 the rebel leaders despaired of their ability to provoke re- 
 bellion in the State, and sought to persuade the rebel Gov- 
 ernment to compel it to share the fate of the Confederacy 
 through invasion. 
 
 On September 5, the first news indicating that these 
 efforts had been successful arrived. General Gideon J. 
 Pillow had crossed the Mississippi the day before from 
 the Arkansas side, with six thousand men, and occupied 
 the Kentucky town of Columbus. Two weeks later, the 
 still more startling announcement came that Buckner had 
 invaded the State from the South with a rebel force of 
 five thousand men. He had appeared in Washington in 
 August, where he pretended to be determined to remain 
 neutral, but suddenly disappeared, and made his way to 
 Richmond, where he obtained a commission as brigadier- 
 general, and immediately returned to his State to assume 
 direction of the offensive movement by which it was ex- 
 pected to reach the Ohio and capture Louisville with a 
 rush. He came very near succeeding. He seized the north- 
 bound trains on the Louisville & Nashville Railroad, 
 loaded them with his troops, and pushed on. But for the
 
 1861] CONTEST FOR KENTUCKY 207 
 
 displacement of a rail by a loyalist, causing the wreck of 
 a south-bound train and obstructing the traffic, he might 
 have reached Louisville. As it was, he stopped at Eliza- 
 bethtown, thirty-five miles from the city, and, hearing of 
 the approach of Federal troops, became himself alarmed 
 and ordered the railroad bridge over a fork of Salt River, 
 in his front, to be burned. About the same time, intelli- 
 gence was received of a third invasion from another direc- 
 tion. During the second week of September, General Zol- 
 licoffer had started with a division of eight to nine thou- 
 sand men from Eastern Tennessee for the Cumberland Gap, 
 and reached the Cumberland River about a week later. 
 Thus the neutrality farce it had been nothing else for 
 months before came to an end, and Kentucky became one 
 of the theatres of the Civil War, and not the least bloody 
 and devastated. 
 
 The rebel offensive against the State naturally led also 
 to a radical change in the attitude of the Federal- Govern- 
 ment. Just before the occupation of Columbus, General 
 Anderson had visited Washington for consultation, and he 
 returned to Cincinnati with Brigadier -Generals W. T. 
 Sherman and George H. Thomas, who were to serve under 
 him. General Thomas was at once sent to take command 
 of the camp formed by Nelson, and General Sherman to 
 St. Louis to solicit aid for Kentucky from General Fremont. 
 General Anderson himself assumed active command in 
 Kentucky, transferring his headquarters to Louisville. 
 My friend Captain Fry came with him as assistant adju- 
 tant-general. General Sherman also reported there to him 
 on his return from the West. 
 
 The news of the rebel advances toward the centre of the 
 State produced great excitement and, to tell the truth, con- 
 sternation and fright in Louisville. Everybody believed 
 that Buckner would make as fast as possible for the Ohio 
 River, and Zollicoffer would lose no time in making for the 
 State capital. There were practically no troops available 
 for contesting such movements but the half-drilled volun-
 
 208 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 teers in Rousseau's and Nelson's camps. I had visited 
 both, and knew that they were very far from being ready 
 to take the field. Indeed, they were not half as efficient as 
 the three-months' men in the Bull Run campaign. Help 
 was telegraphed for and promised by the Federal Govern- 
 ment and by the Governors of Ohio and Indiana. But as 
 none could be expected immediately, and as General Ander- 
 son fortunately had timely warning of Buckner's contem- 
 plated coup de main, he at once ordered Sherman to take 
 Rousseau's men and the Louisville Home Guards, num- 
 bering in all about twenty-five hundred, and move them 
 by rail to a commanding position known as Muldraugh's 
 Hill, about twenty-eight miles south of the city, on the 
 Louisville & Nashville Railroad. This was promptly done, 
 and that point occupied and fortified as well as possible. 
 Union scouting parties sent out from it ascertained, a 
 few days later, the reassuring fact that Buckner had fallen 
 back to Bowling Green on Green River. Zollicoffer's in- 
 tended march northward from the Cumberland River to 
 the Blue Grass region, the heart of the State, was also 
 stopped by the counter-movements of General Thomas. 
 Evidently, both sides had exaggerated ideas of each other's 
 strength, and each was afraid of being attacked by the 
 other. Yet I could not help thinking at the time, and still 
 am of the opinion, that, if Buckner and Zollicoffer had 
 really pushed vigorously on, they had a good chance 
 of compelling the at least temporary abandonment of 
 Kentucky by the Federal Government and getting posses- 
 sion of the important city of Louisville and the main 
 railroad artery connecting the Ohio River with the South. 
 Thus I was thoroughly disappointed in my expectation 
 that active operations would give me plenty of interesting 
 work. The rebels made themselves as secure and comfort- 
 able as possible at Bowling Green and in front of the 
 Cumberland Gap, and their opponents no longer looked 
 for the appearance of the enemy "at any moment," but 
 settled down to the work of drilling, disciplining, clothing,
 
 1861] SHERMAN IN COMMAND 209 
 
 and equipping for the winter the Union forces already 
 on the ground, and the reinforcements they steadily re- 
 ceived by the arrival of newly-enlisted Ohio and Indiana 
 regiments. By the end of September, nothing was left for 
 me to do but to watch the curious developments in Wash- 
 ington and in Louisville, which I will now describe, in 
 connection with military affairs in Kentucky. 
 
 Owing to his age and feeble health, General Anderson 
 found himself unequal to the work and responsibility of 
 his command, and asked to be relieved from duty soon 
 after he had moved his headquarters to Louisville. His 
 wish was reluctantly granted by President Lincoln, and a 
 formal order to that effect issued by the War Depart- 
 ment on October 7, and General Sherman directed to 
 take his place. The change was not favorable for me, for, 
 while General Anderson was very accessible and commu- 
 nicative to representatives of the press, General Sherman 
 looked upon them as a nuisance and a danger at head- 
 quarters and in the field, and acted toward them accord- 
 ingly, then as throughout his great war career. I did not, 
 of course, agree with him at that time as to my own calling, 
 but candor constrains me to saj' that I had to admit in the 
 end that he was entirely right. For what I then observed, 
 on the one hand, of the natural eagerness of volunteer 
 officers of all grades (of whom so many were aspiring poli- 
 ticians at home) to get themselves favorably noticed in 
 the press, even at the cost of indiscretions, and, on the other 
 hand, of the indifference of press-men to military interests 
 in publishing army news, must lead any unprejudiced mind 
 to the conclusion that the harm certain to be done by war 
 correspondents far outweighs any good they can possibly 
 do. If I were a commanding general I would not tolerate 
 any of the tribe within my army lines. 
 
 Under the circumstances, it was perfectly useless to 
 approach General Sherman formally as a news-gatherer. 
 I was, however, brought in contact with him in another 
 
 and more satisfactory way. He appeared every night, like 
 u
 
 210 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 myself, at about nine o'clock, in the office of Mr. Tyler, 
 to learn the news brought in the night Associated Press 
 report. He knew me from the Bull Run campaign as a 
 correspondent of the press. Furthermore, I had been es- 
 pecially commended to him by his brother John k (then 
 a member of the House, and subsequently Senator from 
 Ohio and Secretary of the Treasury) ; and as we met on 
 neutral ground and I asked him no questions, we were soon 
 on very good terms. He was a great talker, and he liked 
 nothing better than to express his mind upon the news as 
 it came. There he sat, smoking a cigar (I hardly ever saw 
 him without one) , leaning back in a chair, with his thumbs 
 in the armholes of his vest. Or he was pacing up and 
 down the room, puffing away, with his head bent for- 
 ward and his arms crossed behind his back. Every piece 
 of military intelligence drew some comment from him, 
 and it was easy to lead him into a long talk if the sub- 
 ject interested him. He expressed himself without any 
 reserve about men and matters, trusting entirely to the 
 good faith of his hearers, who, as a rule, consisted only 
 of Mr. Tyler and myself. As will be readily believed, 
 we found the hours thus spent in his company a great 
 treat, although we did not dream of the celebrity the 
 General was to achieve. I have often wished I had made 
 notes of his sayings. His estimates of military and po- 
 litical leaders particularly would have been worth pre- 
 serving. Nearly all of them proved to be correct. 
 
 In his conversations with us, he discussed also the po- 
 litical and military situation in Kentucky and his own task 
 in connection with it, and I could not help thinking that, 
 in so doing, he said more than was wise and proper. He 
 openly confessed, after he had been assigned to the com- 
 mand of the department, that he had not wished it and 
 was afraid of his new responsibilities. With the vivid im- 
 agination inherent to genius, he clearly saw how for- 
 midable were the difficulties of the part he was expected 
 to play in the suppression of the Rebellion. They simply
 
 1861] SHERMAN'S ANXIETY 211 
 
 appalled him. He found himself in command of raw 
 troops, not exceeding twenty thousand in number. He 
 believed that they should be multiplied many times. He 
 feared the rebel forces in the State largely outnumbered 
 his own, and he could not rid himself of the apprehen- 
 sion that, if he should be attacked, he would have no 
 chance of success. It was not really want of confidence in 
 himself that brought him to this state of mind, but, as it 
 seemed to me, his intense patriotism and despair of the 
 preservation of the Union in view of the fanatical, blood- 
 thirsty hostility to it throughout the South. This dread 
 took such hold of him that, as I was informed by those 
 who were in hourly official intercourse with him, he 
 literally brooded over it day and night. It made him 
 lapse into long, silent moods even outside his headquarters. 
 He lived at the Gait House, occupying rooms on the ground 
 floor. He paced by the hour up and down the corridor 
 leading to them, smoking and obviously absorbed in op- 
 pressive thoughts. He did this to such an extent that 
 it was generally noticed and remarked upon by the guests 
 and employees of the hotel. His strange ways led to 
 gossip, and it was soon whispered about that he was suffer- 
 ing from mental depression. 
 
 Such was his condition when Secretary Cameron ar- 
 rived in Louisville for a conference with him. The 
 Secretary had been to St. Louis to remonstrate with 
 General Fremont about his extravagances and arbitrary 
 assumption of power, and came to see General Sherman, 
 who seemed to the Washington authorities to stand very 
 much in need of being brought to reason, in view of his 
 highly exaggerated theories as to the forces required for 
 the extinction of the Rebellion in the Mississippi Valley. 
 Secretary Cameron had with him Samuel Wilkeson, the 
 Washington correspondent of the New York Tribune 
 afterwards for nearly twenty years secretary of the 
 Northern Pacific Railroad Company whom he allowed 
 to listen to his official and confidential conversations with
 
 212 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 the General, without, however, disclosing Wilkeson's 
 journalistic character. The conference is fully described 
 in Sherman's Memoirs. The General demonstrated on a 
 map his strategic programme for subduing the Confeder- 
 acy. He indicated the lines of operation which the several 
 Federal armies in process of formation should follow in 
 the South. He also made an estimate of the numerical 
 strength they should possess, and contended that, to de- 
 stroy the military power of the Confederacy in the rebel 
 States watered by the Mississippi and its eastern and 
 western tributaries, would require not less than two hun- 
 dred thousand men. This contention was so contrary to, 
 or rather in advance of, the then still prevailing ideas of 
 the limited power of resistance of the Confederacy and the 
 means necessary to overcome it, that it startled the Sec- 
 retary and excited doubts as to the state of the General's 
 mind. Wilkeson told me, indeed, immediately after the 
 conference, that Cameron thought the General was un- 
 balanced by exaggerated fears as to the rebel strength, and 
 that it would not do to leave him in command. 
 
 This was a great bit of news, but, in the public interest, 
 I did not feel free to use it. My friend Murat Halstead, 
 editor of the Cincinnati Commercial, being very much at- 
 tached to the Sherman family, I communicated it to him 
 in a private letter the same evening. But Halstead could 
 not resist the temptation of utilizing the sensational in- 
 formation for his paper. To my painful surprise and great 
 indignation, he printed, in the first issue after receiving 
 my letter, an editorial paragraph saying in substance that 
 "the country would learn with surprise and regret that 
 Brigadier-General Sherman had become insane." Thus I 
 was the innocent cause of the publication of this cruel 
 misstatement, which resulted in so much annoyance and 
 distress to the General and his friends. But the worst 
 result of the conference was yet to come. In spite of the 
 fact that Cameron had concealed Wilkeson's connection 
 with the press, so that Sherman talked with much more
 
 1861] BUELL SUCCEEDS SHERMAN 213 
 
 freedom than he would otherwise have done, the Secre- 
 tary allowed Wilkeson to print every detail of the talk 
 in the Tribune, accompanied by sarcastic criticisms of the 
 timorousness of the General and his absurd demands for 
 troops, as evidenced by his requisition for two hundred 
 thousand men, and also by broad insinuations that his 
 mind was upset and that he could not safely be permitted 
 to exercise an important command. This was an abom- 
 inable outrage, and a striking illustration of the utter 
 unconsciousness at the time, in ruling circles and withal 
 in the public at large, of the detriment to public interests 
 and especially to army discipline wrought by such scandal- 
 ous improprieties. As was to be foreseen, General Sher- 
 man asked to be relieved from his command, and, early in 
 November, his request was readily granted. In fact, it was 
 the general impression that the design of the publication 
 in the Tribune was to compel him to retire. 
 
 A new military department, ' ' of the Ohio, ' ' was formed, 
 and Brigadier-General Don Carlos Buell placed in com- 
 mand, with headquarters at Louisville, where he assumed 
 charge in the second week of November. He held the same 
 views regarding war correspondents as General Sherman, 
 and would not allow them to approach him on any ground. 
 But I continued to enjoy the special advantage of hav- 
 ing a friend at court in Captain Fry. General Buell, be- 
 sides his aversion to members of the press, was by nature 
 reserved, taciturn, and cold in his manners just the op- 
 posite of General Sherman. He repelled rather than at- 
 tracted not only his subordinates, but all who came in con- 
 tact with him. He was the choica of General McClellan 
 for the position, and, like him, was destined to prove a 
 failure. 
 
 I have referred to the exaggerated estimates of the 
 rebel forces in his front that warped General Sherman's 
 judgment. Together with the unreadiness of the troops 
 under him, it had given rise to his disinclination to think 
 of an early offensive as at all possible. One of the motives
 
 214 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 of the Government in substituting General Buell for him 
 was its desire that something should be done for the relief 
 of the loyalists in East Tennessee, whose steadfast ad- 
 herence to the Union, in spite of the merciless persecution 
 and oppression practised toward them by the rebel Govern- 
 ment, appealed most strongly to the sympathies of the 
 Northern States, and for whose protection active measures 
 were warmly advocated in the press and in Congress. 
 President Lincoln's interest in their cause was enlisted by 
 the constant pleadings of Andrew Johnson, Horace May- 
 nard, and other leaders on their behalf. He evidenced 
 this by one of the famous documents of the war, the 
 sketch of a plan which he had prepared, in the latter part 
 of September, for an advance into East Tennessee, and 
 sent to the War Department as a positive command, as 
 shown by the first words: "On or about the fifth of Oc- 
 tober, I wish a movement made to seize and hold a point 
 on the railroad connecting Virginia and Tennessee near 
 the mountain pass called Cumberland Gap." The plan 
 and the ways and means indicated for its execution were 
 unquestionably sound, and proved, like similar emanations 
 at later stages of the war, that Mr. Lincoln 's perception of 
 the military situation was a very creditable one. 
 
 It was expected that General Buell, upon whom the 
 Commander-in-chief, General McClellan, had himself 
 urged, in his verbal instructions, the necessity of prompt 
 action, with the promise of reinforcements for that pur- 
 pose, would not be long in starting an expedition for East 
 Tennessee. But it soon turned out that he also was un- 
 willing to take early action. The more his command was 
 swelled by additional troops from the North, the less he 
 apparently became inclined to take the field this notwith- 
 standing the eagerness of General George H. Thomas to 
 go for Zollicoffer from central Kentucky. On November 
 25, McClellan repeated his previous oral and written in- 
 structions in the strongest language, saying in his letter: 
 "I am still convinced that political and strategical con-
 
 1861] BUELL DILATOKY 215 
 
 siderations render a prompt movement in force on Eastern 
 Tennessee imperative. ... I think we owe it to our Union 
 friends in East Tennessee to protect them at all hazards." 
 He followed up this letter two days later with a despatch : 
 "I urge movement at once on Eastern Tennessee unless it 
 is impossible. ' ' But Buell did not budge. He pleaded that 
 his troops were anything but ready to take the field. He 
 described them as "little better than a mob." The fact 
 that he was being vainly urged to move became public, and 
 he was attacked in the press and in Congress. But this 
 did not influence him any more than the orders and re- 
 monstrances of his superiors. These continued to reach 
 him by mail and wire, but he contrived to find excuses for 
 not complying. 
 
 In the latter part of December, the pressure from Wash- 
 ington at last extracted from him the admission that he 
 had never really thought a movement into East Tennessee 
 advisable, and that his programme was a defensive one in 
 an eastern and an offensive one in a western direction. 
 Finally, President Lincoln lost his long-tried patience, and 
 on January 4 wired him: " Please tell me the progress 
 and condition of the movement in the direction of East 
 Tennessee. Answer." Buell, in his reply, amplified his 
 previous admission that the East Tennessee movement had 
 been decidedly against his judgment from the very first, 
 as likely to render doubtful the success of "a movement 
 against the great power of the Rebellion in the west, which 
 is mainly arrayed on the line between Bowling Green and 
 Columbus." President Lincoln replied by mail, com- 
 mencing his letter thus: "Your despatch of yesterday has 
 been received and disappoints and distresses me," and then 
 argued that, in his judgment, the possession of the rail- 
 road between Virginia and East Tennessee seemed to him 
 more important and more to be desired than that of 
 Nashville. Next he lamented the sad fate of the loyalists, 
 if left without help. "But my distress is," he said, "that 
 our friends in East Tennessee are being hanged and driven
 
 216 HENRY VILLARD [1861 
 
 to despair." "My despatch to you was sent with the 
 knowledge of Senator Johnson and Representative May- 
 nard, and they will be after me to know your answer, which 
 I cannot safely show them." This characteristic wail of 
 the President, with the extraordinary ending, "I do not 
 intend this to be an order in any sense, but merely to 
 show you the grounds of my anxiety," was followed by far 
 more emphatic expressions from General McClellan. ''I 
 was extremely sorry," he wrote to Buell, "to learn from 
 your telegram to the President that you had from the 
 beginning attached little or no importance to a movement 
 into East Tennessee. I had not so understood your views, 
 and it develops a radical difference between yours and 
 mine, which I deeply regret. ' ' He then gave his reasons for 
 preferring a movement towards East Tennessee to one 
 against Nashville, emphasizing the fact that "the lat- 
 ter would work a prejudicial change in my own plans." 
 On January 13, McClellan wrote again in a way that 
 obliged Buell to promise to comply with the wishes of his 
 superiors. Yet he failed to keep his promise promptly, 
 further excusing himself by reason of want of transporta- 
 tion and the impracticability of the roads. 
 
 Meantime, the lack of stirring events and the absolute 
 silence imposed by General Buell's orders upon corre- 
 spondents in regard to the large army under his command, 
 on penalty of expulsion from the department, made time 
 hang rather heavily on my hands. My social relations were 
 too limited, for the reasons already explained, to relieve 
 the monotony of my daily life. Moreover, no public en- 
 tertainments of any kind were going on in Louisville, 
 owing to the state of war. But I had a pleasant inter- 
 ruption of my dull existence by spending Christmas week 
 among my friends in Cincinnati. The continual inclem- 
 ency of the weather added no little to the dreariness of 
 those winter months, during which not a single personal 
 incident worth recording occurred. 
 
 My usefulness to my employers would thus not have
 
 1861] NEWS FROM THE SOUTH 217 
 
 been very great but for the accidental discovery and ex- 
 ploitation of a new mine of valuable intelligence. The 
 war having cut off all the former communications between 
 the loyal and rebel States by mail and telegraph, railroad 
 and steamboat, the Northern press was deprived of its 
 regular supply of Southern news. Its scarcity very much 
 increased the demand for and the value of it. The cu- 
 riosity of the Northern public regarding current events 
 in the South seemed to' be even greater than about home 
 affairs. It occurred to me during the fall that, what with 
 the large number of Louisville people who had gone South 
 to help the Confederates and their natural desire to hear 
 from home and to be able to send tidings of themselves, 
 some channel of intelligence might be opened. On close 
 investigation I found out that there were men and wo- 
 men travelling regularly between Louisville and Nashville, 
 who made it their business to carry letters, papers, and 
 other things between the two points a sort of "under- 
 ground railroad." By paying liberally for them, I man- 
 aged to receive through this agency all the leading papers 
 in the South. With clippings from them, which I accom- 
 panied by proper comments, I made up regular budgets of 
 Southern news, which became a highly prized feature of 
 the Herald. None of its contemporaries was so well served 
 in this respect as long as I remained stationed in Louisville.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE OCCUPATION OF NASHVILLE. 1862 
 
 THE quietude that reigned in Kentucky was suddenly 
 broken in the latter part of January, 1862, by the 
 collision between General Thomas and General Zollicoffer 
 in what is known as the "battle of Mill Springs," though 
 it hardly deserved the name. Zollicoffer, having estab- 
 lished himself on the north bank of the Cumberland River, 
 on the road from the Gap to the central part of the State, 
 caused a good deal of annoyance and suffering by sending 
 raiding parties in different directions, as well as by re- 
 peated advances and retreats with his main body, which 
 were met by counter-movements by the Federal brigade 
 of General Schoepf, charged by General Thomas to watch 
 the enemy. To put an end to these inflictions, Buell finally 
 authorized Thomas to advance with his division toward 
 the Cumberland. He reached a point ten miles from the 
 rebel encampment on January 18, with part of his forces. 
 The enemy was apprised of his approach, and decided to 
 attack him before all his command had come up. The 
 encounter took place on the following day. Zollicoffer hav- 
 ing been killed early in the fight, the rebels lost their co- 
 hesion, and were beaten back after a struggle of several 
 hours. They retreated in disorder to their fortified camp 
 at Mill Springs. The Unionists followed them closely 
 and surrounded their position during the night. In the 
 morning it was discovered that the enemy had crossed the 
 Cumberland in the darkness, leaving behind them twelve 
 pieces of artillery, small arms, supplies, and their wounded. 
 It was a very creditable victory for the Union cause, as the 
 rebel strength was one-third greater than General Thom- 
 
 218
 
 1862] BUELL'S ARMY 219 
 
 as's; and it had a great moral effect in the loyal States. 
 The principal part in it was borne by the Ninth Ohio Regi- 
 ment, commanded by Colonel Robert L. McCook. He was 
 a prominent lawyer and partner of John B. Stallo, the 
 well-known German leader at Cincinnati, and was one of 
 the famous family of which no less than ten members, com- 
 prising the father and nine sons, bore arms during the 
 war. The regiment had been recruited from among the 
 Germans of Ohio, and was officered in part by ex-officers 
 of the Prussian army, who had brought it up to a high 
 degree of drill and discipline. Colonel McCook himself 
 was wounded. The way to Cumberland Gap and into 
 East Tennessee was now unobstructed, and Thomas was 
 ready to push forward, but he received no orders to that 
 effect, and remained on the Cumberland until the impor- 
 tant developments in western Kentucky shortly after- 
 wards changed the entire course of events. 
 
 Before speaking of these, it will be proper to describe 
 the composition of Buell's army, whose coming experiences 
 I was to share. It had gradually increased through the 
 fall and winter, by steady reinforcements, until it num- 
 bered nearly seventy-two thousand men on the rolls, of 
 whom about three-quarters were effective. They included 
 nearly eighty-four infantry regiments, organized in the 
 States of Kentucky, Ohio, Indiana, Pennsylvania, Illinois, 
 Wisconsin, and Minnesota; half a dozen regiments of 
 cavalry from Kentucky, Indiana, and Ohio; and twenty 
 batteries of six guns each. They first were formed into 
 brigades of four foot regiments and one battery each, num- 
 bered consecutively up to twenty-one, and subsequently 
 into six divisions, of four and three brigades, with a cavalry 
 regiment each. The division commanders were, in the 
 order of the numbers of their divisions, Brigadier-Gen- 
 erals George H. Thomas, Alexander McDowell McCook, 
 Ormsby M. Mitchel (a regular-army officer), William Nel- 
 son (who had been formally transferred in August from 
 the navy to the army, with the rank of brigadier-general),
 
 220 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 Thomas L. Crittenden, and Thomas J. Wood ^of the regu- 
 lar army). Among the brigade commanders figured a 
 number who afterwards became well known, such as M. D. 
 Hanson, L. H. Rousseau, R. W. Johnson, J. S. Negley, 
 J. B. Turchin, Jacob Ammen, W. B. Hazen, Charles Cruft, 
 M. S. Hascall, and C. G. Harker. During the active opera- 
 tions that followed, I had the opportunity of making the 
 acquaintance of nearly all of these commanders and en- 
 tering into friendly relations with a number of them, which 
 continued even after the close of the war. 
 
 All through November, December, and January there 
 had been, as is shown by the printed official records, corre- 
 spondence by wire and mail between the Government at 
 Washington and Generals McClellan, Halleck (who had 
 superseded Fremont as commander-in-chief of the military 
 department comprising Missouri and Illinois), and Buell, 
 regarding the future programme for combined action upon 
 the Western theatre of war. As early as the latter half 
 of November, Buell had expressed himself in a general way 
 in favor of using the Cumberland and Tennessee Rivers as 
 offensive lines, with Nashville as the main objective-point. 
 Halleck favored the line of the Tennessee alone, as the 
 movements along two lines would require too much force. 
 But Buell did not urge his general suggestion, nor submit 
 any plans in detail. Hence the protracted discussion had 
 led to no agreement or decision up to the end of January. 
 Buell had, however, slowly crept with his forces nearer the 
 rebel front at Bowling Green, and, at that time, his lines 
 extended from near that place eastwardly to Glasgow, Co- 
 lumbia, and Somerset. He still believed that the rebel 
 forces in his front under Albert Sidney Johnston out- 
 numbered him, and, owing to this illusion, his every for- 
 ward step was characterized by excessive caution. The 
 truth was, that Johnston's command was only little more 
 than one-third as strong as Buell's army. 
 
 The dissensions and hesitations of the commanding gen- 
 erals were brought to an end in an unexpected manner. At
 
 1862] GRANT TAKES FORT HENRY 221 
 
 the close of January, General Grant, in command at Cairo, 
 and Rear-Admiral Foote, commanding the fleet of river 
 gunboats, succeeded, after several vain attempts, in ex- 
 tracting permission from General Halleck to attack and, 
 if possible, capture Fort Henry, constructed by the rebels 
 for the defence of the Tennessee River near its mouth. 
 On February 6, the loyal public was made joyful by the 
 laconic news from General Grant: "Fort Henry is ours," 
 with the hope-inspiring addition: " I shall take and de- 
 stroy Fort Donelson on the eighth." The latter fort was 
 erected at a distance of only a day's march from Fort 
 Henry to lock the Cumberland against Northern troops and 
 gunboats. When Grant sent this confident despatch, 
 he had no idea how difficult it would be to make good 
 his word, and how important his success would be in 
 really determining the whole course of the war in the 
 Mississippi and Ohio valleys. The moment he received 
 the news of the fall of Fort Henry, the rebel commander 
 Johnston, at Bowling Green, realizing the danger it in- 
 volved of the capture of Fort Donelson and of thereby hav- 
 ing the centre of the rebel line from Bowling Green to Co- 
 lumbus pierced and his own left flank turned through the 
 opening of the Cumberland and Tennessee Rivers to the 
 Federals, held a council of war, at which, on his recom- 
 mendation, it was decided to abandon his long-held position 
 in Kentucky for the protection of Tennessee, and to fight 
 for that object at Fort Donelson. This resolution was 
 carried out with admirable promptitude. Fourteen thou- 
 sand infantry were at once detached, under the command 
 of Generals Buckner and Floyd, for the reinforcement of 
 Donelson, and sent by rail to Clarksville and thence the 
 short distance down the river by boat. The remaining 
 eight thousand of the twenty-two thousand men, all told, 
 that Johnston 's army actually consisted of, broke camp and 
 fell back on Nashville. Donelson was further reinforced 
 by four thousand men from General Pillow's command. 
 This throwing of a heavy force into the fort was sound
 
 222 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 and justified by the circumstances, but it utterly miscar- 
 ried, owing to the determined offensive of General Grant 
 and the lack of fighting spirit in the garrison. On Febru- 
 ary 16, the Northern States were electrified by the astonish- 
 ing tidings of the unconditional surrender of Donelson 
 with fifteen thousand rebels (including General Buckner), 
 twenty thousand stands of arms, forty-eight small and 
 seventeen heavy guns, thousands of horses, and great 
 quantities of commissary and quartermaster's stores. 
 
 This great triumph of General Grant not only raised the 
 patriotic enthusiasm of the loyal people to the highest pitch, 
 but instantly broke the spell of apprehension that had 
 kept the Union commanders in the West on the defensive. 
 The force of events carried them irresistibly along. It 
 ended the conflict of their strategic theories by compelling 
 them to take advantage of the unexpected achievement on 
 the Cumberland, which did nothing less than open the way 
 for the Union armies to the very heart of the Confederacy 
 west of the Alleghanies. 
 
 Already the fall of Fort Henry had roused Halleck and 
 Buell. They had early information of the abandonment 
 of Bowling Green by the enemy, and correctly divined that 
 Johnston meant to use his forces to save Donelson. Buell 
 was ready enough to take up his former plan of moving 
 up the two rivers. He took the initiative in supporting 
 Grant's operations by ordering Cruft's 13th brigade, sta- 
 tioned at Calhoun on the lower Green River, to join Grant, 
 which it did in time to participate in the attack on Don- 
 elson. He started eight additional unassigned regiments 
 by water for the same purpose, and, in response to an 
 appeal from Halleck, he ordered three of his divisions, 
 under Thomas, Nelson, and Crittenden, to make as quickly 
 as possible for Louisville and embark thence on steamboats 
 down the Ohio for the Cumberland. They could not get 
 under way from Louisville, however, until the day of the 
 surrender of Donelson. In consequence of that event, the 
 other three divisions of Buell were at once ordered to move
 
 1862] ADVANCE ON NASHVILLE 223 
 
 in forced marches upon Nashville. Buell himself joined 
 the advance of General Mitchel's division. The march was 
 made so rapidly that some of the cavalry arrived at Edge- 
 field on the north bank of the Cumberland, opposite Nash- 
 ville, on the morning of Sunday, the 23d. General Buell 
 himself did not reach the same point with the division, 
 nine thousand strong, till the evening of the following day. 
 He was met there by the mayor of Nashville and a com- 
 mittee of citizens, who reported the evacuation of the city 
 by the Confederate forces, and obtained an appointment 
 for the next morning for the formal surrender. The de- 
 struction by the rebels of the suspension bridge for ordi- 
 nary traffic, as well as of the railroad bridge across the 
 Cumberland, made it impossible for General Buell to enter 
 the city immediately. This deprived him of the satisfac- 
 tion of being the first Federal commander in the capital of 
 Tennessee, for, early next morning, a fleet of boats, escorted 
 by the gunboat Conestoga, came in sight with a large body 
 of his own troops under command of General Nelson, 
 who landed at once and took possession. 
 
 The inspiring news of the attack on Fort Donelson 
 caused me much perplexity. I had been at the front 
 a fortnight before the capture of Fort Henry, but returned 
 to Louisville when I learned of the decision to send rein- 
 forcements to Grant by the river route, with a view to 
 accompany them. General Nelson, whose division was 
 to take part in that expedition, invited me to come on his 
 boat. I accepted and expected to go on board on the 
 morning of the 16th. But the reports from Donelson in 
 the morning papers of that day indicated such confidence 
 by General Grant in its impending fall that I concluded 
 to wait another day before deciding upon my course, lest, 
 by starting down the Ohio, I might be too late for the cap- 
 ture of the fort, and also miss some important movement 
 by General Buell. I went early in the evening to the Asso- 
 ciated Press office, and impatiently awaited, with half a 
 dozen others, the night report. The very first sentence an-
 
 224 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 nounced the surrender of Donelson, and made all present 
 break out into shouts of delight. I congratulated myself 
 on my wisdom in not going with General Nelson, but in 
 the morning I was obliged to doubt whether I had chosen 
 the better part, on learning that Buell, on hearing of 
 Grant's success, had immediately put his army in motion 
 for Nashville. My quandary was, however, solved on as- 
 certaining later in the day that, in addition to Nelson's 
 division, the divisions of Generals Thomas and Crittenden 
 had been ordered to embark as fast as possible for the 
 Cumberland. Learning that I could not overtake Buell 
 by land, I made up my mind to go by water. Fortunately, 
 a boat started down the river the same evening, with quar- 
 termaster's and commissary's stores for Nelson's division. 
 Captain Miller, of the Gait House, knew the captain, and 
 introduced me to him, thanks to which I was very well taken 
 care of on the trip. I left most of my belongings behind, 
 and set out, wearing my campaign army-blue suit and a 
 regulation overcoat. 
 
 We reached Fort Donelson the next morning. It lay in 
 a bend of the river on steeply rising bluft's, about a hun- 
 dred feet above the water. We found a great fleet of boats, 
 including those having on board Nelson's command, which 
 was waiting for telegraphic orders. It took us some hours 
 to make a good landing, owing to the number of craft in 
 the way, and it was nearly dark before I managed to find 
 General Nelson. No orders had yet reached him. He re- 
 peated his invitation to come on his boat, but, seeing that 
 it was very crowded, and being assured by him that my 
 boat would follow him wherever he went, I thought it best 
 not to change. We were kept stationary and uncertain 
 as to our final destination for four days. But I found 
 myself in the midst of striking scenes of actual war that 
 made our stay most interesting. There was the Fort itself, 
 a rectangular work, inclosing about one hundred acres, 
 with high ramparts and well-protected water-batteries of 
 heavy guns; its earthen embankments ploughed and torn
 
 1862] FORT DONELSON TAKEN 225 
 
 by our gunboat fire. There were camps of Union soldiers 
 and of rebel prisoners, but few of whom had yet been sent 
 North. The great majority of the latter were only par- 
 tially uniformed, or were wholly in civilian clothes, and 
 presented a very motley, dirty, and anything but respect- 
 inspiring appearance. I talked much with them, and 
 found them very ready, as defeated soldiers always are, 
 to blame and denounce their officers. There was a chaos 
 of thousands of captured wagons, horses, and mules. 
 Mournful was the sight of long rows of fresh graves con- 
 taining the killed on both sides, and of the field-hospitals 
 crowded with Federal and Confederate wounded. A strik- 
 ing border to this picture was formed by the score and 
 more of side-wheel and stern-wheel steamboats and grim- 
 looking gunboats, puffing, blowing, and whistling, loaded 
 with human and other freight. Altogether, there was 
 enough to see and describe to keep me fully occupied. In 
 one respect I was, however, disappointed. I failed to see 
 "Unconditional Surrender" Grant, as he did not leave his 
 boat while we remained, and, not knowing anybody on it, 
 I did not feel bold enough to go on board. 
 
 At last, on the afternoon of the fourth day, orders 
 reached General Nelson to proceed up the river as far as 
 Clarhsville and there await further instructions. We im- 
 mediately got under way, and reached our destination in a 
 few hours. The banks were well settled and quite attrac- 
 tive. We anchored in the river, not far from the great 
 bridge of the railroad from Louisville to Memphis. Again 
 our patience was tried by lying still for more than twenty- 
 four hours, after which, late in the afternoon of the 
 twenty-fourth, the welcome report came that the way to 
 Nashville was clear, and that we should start for that 
 city at daybreak next morning. 
 
 Accordingly, our flotilla of seven boats, convoyed by the 
 gunboat Conestoga, got in motion in single file up the river 
 as soon as there was light enough to find the way. The 
 valley proved to be quite picturesque. Bluffs of a very 
 
 15
 
 226 HENRY VILLAKD [1862 
 
 diversified character, now of solid, barren rock, and again 
 heavily timbered, rose close to the banks or bordered wide 
 bottoms forming rich plantations. Half an hour before 
 reaching Nashville, we passed Fort Zollicoffer, an un- 
 finished river-battery with eight guns in position, but de- 
 serted. Soon after, we caught sight of the imposing State 
 capitol, standing upon the highest hill within the city limits. 
 A little further, and the ruins of the two bridges connect- 
 ing the city with the north bank of the river came into 
 view, and in twenty minutes more we were tied to a wharf 
 at the foot of one of the leading streets. 
 
 Nashville had then a population of less than twenty 
 thousand. (It had more than eighty thousand in 1890.) 
 It was compactly and regularly built up over an undulat- 
 ing area, rising rather steeply at first and then more grad- 
 ually from the river to a broken plateau. The lower 
 streets, as in all river-towns the world over, were devoted 
 to business, and the upper ones to residential purposes. 
 The site was crowned by the hill on which the great State- 
 house greater in size than in correct architectural style 
 occupied a most commanding position. The business 
 buildings, as well as the private residences, were mostly 
 made of brick and stone, and had a solid but unpretentious 
 look, although the style and proportions of a number of the 
 homes gave evidence of wealthy ownership. Altogether, 
 the appearance of the place indicated considerable thrift, 
 and impressed me more as that of a Northern than of a 
 Southern city. 
 
 I was among the very first to jump ashore. We sup- 
 posed General Buell to have taken possession, and were 
 surprised to learn that we were the first "invaders" to 
 enter the city. Having learned also that not a single Con- 
 federate soldier remained in it, I did not hesitate to set 
 out alone to see the place and to gather information as to 
 the local events previous to our arrival. In an hour I had 
 walked through all the principal streets. I found the 
 wholesale and retail stores and most of the better class of
 
 1862] NASHVILLE OCCUPIED 227 
 
 residences shut up. Very few whites, lout plenty of blacks 
 were visible. The State-house presented a curious sight. 
 I discovered only one person a colored doorkeeper in 
 the big edifice that had contained, but a few days before, 
 the whole State Government and the State Legislature with 
 all its throng of attendants. They had all "done gone" 
 a week ago, as the sole occupant informed me. Not a door 
 was locked, and a good many stood wide open, indicating 
 a most rapid disappearance of the executive and legislative 
 branches. They had adjourned as far west as was pos- 
 sible within the State limits, viz., to Memphis. 
 
 I next sought the American House, the leading hotel, 
 in order to secure board and lodging. The house was open, 
 but seemed utterly deserted. After much ringing of the 
 office bell, a colored man appeared, who, on my inquiry for 
 the proprietor, answered, with a broad grin: "Massa done 
 gone souf . ' ' Not a guest had been entertained for several 
 days, and he could not tell what would be done with the 
 hotel. But I boldly ordered him to show me the better 
 rooms and selected the best one, which I told him to re- 
 serve against all comers till I returned. I hurried back to 
 the boat, got my saddle-bag and said good-bye to the cap- 
 tain, and within half an hour had taken actual possession 
 of the room. It was well I had acted thus promptly, for, 
 by noon, the hotel swarmed with other correspondents and 
 staff-officers. A quartermaster's clerk with hotel experi- 
 ence was put in charge, the chief cook hunted up, and, 
 with the supplies found in the store-room and meat pro- 
 cured from a butcher, the caravansary was soon in full 
 running order. In a few days the proprietor returned and 
 resumed control. 
 
 I lost no time, after securing my quarters, in making 
 for the office of the Daily American, the principal paper 
 of the city. I purchased the back numbers for three weeks 
 and found them a mine of interesting information. Espe- 
 cially were the full accounts of what happened in the city 
 after the fall of Donelson of great value to me and to Cap-
 
 228 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 tain Fry, Buell 's chief of staff, to whom I lent them in the 
 evening, as they gave him a clear idea of the rebel military 
 movements throughout the South. I found one of the 
 owners and some of the editors of the paper in the office. 
 I introduced myself as a "Northern colleague," and they 
 were evidently very glad to have some one to consult with 
 as to the course they should pursue. They had continued 
 the publication up to that day, but were in doubt whether 
 it would be safe and profitable for them to go on with it. 
 I advised them to do so by all means, but to print only news 
 from the North and South and local intelligence, without 
 any editorials or biased comments. I assured them that the 
 military authorities would allow this. They followed my 
 suggestion and printed the paper right along. Within a 
 few days, they were able to publish the Northern Associ- 
 ated Press reports, but their Southern news naturally be- 
 came meagre. 
 
 According to appointment, the mayor, B. B. Cheatham, 
 a member of the prominent family of that name, which 
 played a conspicuous part on the Southern side during the 
 Rebellion, called on General Buell, at Edgefield, with 
 a deputation of leading citizens, shortly after our landing. 
 He received assurances that, in view of the surrender of 
 the city at discretion, all law-abiding persons and their 
 property would receive the fullest protection from the Fed- 
 eral troops. Soon after the conference, General Buell 
 crossed over with his staff on a boat, and established his 
 headquarters in a commodious mansion abandoned by its 
 owner. The transfer of the troops he had led also com- 
 menced, and on that and the next day about fifteen thou- 
 sand "Yanks" marched through the streets to encamp- 
 ments selected for them in the suburbs. For ten days, ad- 
 ditional arrivals took place to the number of thousands a 
 day, including the divisions that had marched from Bowl- 
 ing Green, as well as those carried up the Cumberland by 
 boats, and before the middle of March the whole of Buell 's 
 army was concentrated about Nashville. The only troops
 
 1862] REBELS ABANDON NASHVILLE 229 
 
 quartered in the city, however, were a large provost-mar- 
 shal's guard, charged with preventing officers and soldiers 
 from entering the city except on duty or with proper per- 
 mits, which were only sparingly granted. 
 
 The mayor at once issued a proclamation announcing 
 the promise of protection and maintenance of order by 
 General Buell, and calling upon all citizens to resume their 
 occupations, and especially to reopen all stores for busi- 
 ness, which was gradually done. He also called on the 
 farmers of the vicinity to resume bringing their supplies to 
 the city markets. This was quite in contrast with the bom- 
 bastic manifesto issued by the Governor of the State, Isham 
 G. Harris, at Memphis, against the ruthless invaders of 
 Tennessee's soil. 
 
 A brief account of what happened in Nashville after the 
 fall of Donelson and before the advent of the Federals 
 will be in place here. The rebel commander-in-chief, 
 Johnston, reached Nashville ahead of his troops on Febru- 
 ary 17, and at once informed the State and city authori- 
 ties of the impossibility of defending the city, and his 
 direct intention of retreating with his forces beyond it. 
 He expressed his fear at the same time that the Federal 
 gunboats and troops might appear within a few hours. 
 The suddenness and portentousness of this announcement, 
 which immediately became known to the inhabitants, pro- 
 duced at once the deepest consternation among all classes. 
 The measures adopted by the Confederate commander be- 
 fore abandoning the city to its fate intensified the general 
 fright into a regular panic. In order to obstruct and de- 
 lay the Federal pursuit, the destruction of the railroad 
 and suspension bridges was ordered and carried out a 
 wanton, useless act, as the height of the river made its use 
 by the largest boats practicable. This only increased the 
 general scare, as indicating want of faith in the re-estab- 
 lishment of Confederate rule. The papers stated that 
 "this brutal outrage upon the city was perpetrated against 
 the earnest and persistent protest of the leading citizens."
 
 230 HENRY VILLARD [1862" 
 
 Next in folly was the conduct of the officers of the rebel 
 commissary and quartermaster's department, who hastily 
 abandoned their posts, and, before doing so, threw open the 
 magazines holding the immense stores of miscellaneous sup- 
 plies for the Confederate army, and allowed the public to 
 help themselves to them in order to prevent their falling 
 into the hands of the enemy. Naturally, a wild scramble 
 for this public prey ensued among the lower classes, and, 
 as might have been expected, led to disorder and violence. 
 A lawless, defiant mob had virtual possession of the city. 
 The newspapers reported the street scenes that were en- 
 acted for several days as "beggaring description." "The 
 untiring energy of the mayor and city authorities was in- 
 adequate to keep down the selfish, grasping spirit from 
 running riot." "Irish laborers and negroes competed 
 with 'gentlemen' in 'toting' off 'hog,' flour, sugar, crackers, 
 clothing, and other things." The Governor at the same 
 time pranced about the streets on horseback, vainly ap- 
 pealing for volunteer help in removing the State records. 
 At a subsequent investigation ordered by the Confederate 
 Congress, it was proved that the loss to the rebel Govern- 
 ment from this authorized plundering was over one mil- 
 lion dollars, and that it was an entirely unwarranted and 
 culpable waste of public property, as almost a whole week 
 elapsed before the Federals appeared after the retreat of 
 Johnston. The pillage was finally stopped by the energy 
 of the rebel cavalry leader Forrest, who later attained such 
 notoriety as a daring and successful raider. With a com- 
 mand of only forty men, he succeeded in restoring order 
 after several days, and maintained it till our arrival com- 
 pelled his retirement. 
 
 The panic manifested itself in a general effort to run 
 away from the coming "ruthless Northern hordes." The 
 reckless falsehoods that had been circulated by the South- 
 ern press about the savage warfare waged by the Northern 
 armies, now bore their natural fruit. Having been con- 
 stantly told that slaughter, pillage, "booty and beauty"
 
 1862J GRANT AT NASHVILLE 231 
 
 were their insatiate longing, thousands sought safety in 
 instant flight, abandoning homes and business and taking 
 with them only what they could carry on their persons or 
 in vehicles. Even the many sick and wounded soldiers from 
 the hospital swelled the tide. The general fear, in view of 
 the fate of the bridges, that the city would He burned so that 
 the "Yankees" might find another Moscow, had much to 
 do with this needless hegira. There were, indeed, some 
 crazy secessionists who openly proclaimed their purpose to 
 fire every house in the city. 
 
 Two days after our landing, I had the satisfaction of get- 
 ting my first view of "Unconditional Surrender" Grant. 
 He had unexpectedly come up from Clarksville, by boat, 
 for a conference with General Buell. I met him with his 
 staff riding up to the latter 's headquarters. I could not 
 help feeling rather disappointed by the commonplace ap- 
 pearance of the man. He stayed only a few hours, but 
 took time to see the city and to pay his respects to the 
 widow of ex-President Polk, who made her home in a 
 stately mansion on the finest residence street, and was one 
 of the few Nashville gentlewomen not scared away by the 
 dread of the Northern- vandals. Mrs. Polk, while not con- 
 cealing her Southern sympathies, received him in a very 
 ladylike manner. Her behavior was very different from 
 that experienced by the Grant party from other women, 
 having the appearance of ladies, in passing through the 
 streets. These "Yankee haters" went so far as to show 
 their venom by spitting contemptuously, sticking out their 
 tongues, and hissing like snakes. I can bear personal testi- 
 mony that such low manifestations of viragoism were of 
 frequent occurrence during the first weeks after the Fed- 
 eral occupation; but they gradually disappeared. 
 
 I am tempted to recall, in this connection, that Grant's 
 visit to Nashville came very near bringing his career as a 
 Federal commander to an early end. He undertook the 
 trip without giving notice, as required by the general field 
 orders, of his intended absence from his command to his
 
 232 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 immediate superior, General Halleck, who in very strong 
 terms reported this neglect of duty to the War Depart- 
 ment, which replied giving him authority to relieve the 
 offender from duty and put him under arrest. Halleck 
 had also wired a severe reprimand to Grant, on receiving 
 which the latter asked to be relieved before the order to the 
 same effect had come by mail from Washington. But the 
 difficulty was made up, most fortunately for the Union 
 cause. 
 
 I had plenty to do for a fortnight in writing up the 
 "past and present." Communication by mail and tele- 
 graph with the North was opened within forty-eight hours 
 after Buell 's advent, and the first week I sent letters daily, 
 and the second every other day. Military and other affairs 
 in and about the city had then, however, settled down to a 
 regular routine, so that material grew very scarce. Not 
 a shot had been fired by either side in occupying and re- 
 treating from Nashville, nor was any sound of war heard 
 afterward, so complete had been the disappearance of the 
 rebels from the adjacent portions of Tennessee. Unfortu- 
 nately for the loyal cause, there was no unity of apprecia- 
 tion among the Federal commanders of the logical stra- 
 tegic consequences of the February victories, or proper 
 recognition of the vital importance of following them up 
 with enterprise and energy. They were engaged for weeks 
 in telegraphing suggestions and counter-suggestions, and, 
 before they had agreed among themselves whether it would 
 be best to advance from Nashville or from middle Ten- 
 nessee or down the Mississippi, the enemy's movements 
 were again to determine their own. Thus Buell 's army 
 remained encamped about Nashville, making good use of 
 the time, however, by assiduous drilling and by completing 
 its field equipment. The Tennessee capital became a new 
 base of operations, and supplies of every kind and of 
 ammunition were accumulated as fast as possible by rail 
 and river. 
 
 The monotony into which matters had fallen was relieved
 
 1862] ANDREW JOHNSON AT NASHVILLE 233 
 
 by the advent in Nashville, about the middle of March, of 
 Andrew Johnson. As United States Senator from Ten- 
 nessee, he had achieved great renown and popularity, upon 
 the outbreak of the Rebellion, by his unswerving, passion- 
 ate loyalty. On the fall of Nashville, President Lincoln 
 nominated him brigadier-general of volunteers, and, on 
 his immediate confirmation by the Senate, vested him 
 with the special function of Military Governor for the 
 State of Tennessee, which he was to exercise till a regular 
 civil government, faithful to the Union, could be re-estab- 
 lished. He took possession, very properly, of the capitol, 
 and at once adopted very vigorous measures for the as- 
 sertion of his authority and the protection of the loyalists 
 in the State. One of his first acts was to call on the mayor 
 and the city council to take the oath of loyalty to the Fed- 
 eral Government. They refused to do this, by a vote of six- 
 teen to one, whereupon Governor Johnson issued an order 
 removing them and appointing an "acting" mayor, who 
 thenceforth administered the affairs of the city without 
 the control of a council. I saw Johnson almost daily, and 
 watched him closely, in his official and his private rela- 
 tions. My judgment of him was that, while he was doubt- 
 less a man of unusual natural parts, he had too violent a 
 temper and was too much addicted to the common Southern 
 habit of free indulgence in strong drink. These failings 
 really unfitted him for his task, and he proved even then 
 as little qualified for the proper fulfilment of high execu- 
 tive responsibilities as he did three years later when a na- 
 tional calamity made him an accidental President of the 
 United States. 
 
 Another noted character, popularly known as "Parson 
 Brownlow, " appeared about the same time at Nashville. 
 He was a popular preacher in East Tennessee when the 
 Rebellion broke out, and, upon the first active secession 
 movements in the Cotton States, denounced them with ex- 
 traordinary boldness, energy, and ability, from both the 
 pulpit and the rostrum. He had all the fervor of a regu-
 
 234 . HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 lar camp-meeting exhorter, and by his homely, stirring 
 eloquence became the moral mainstay of loyalism in his 
 native section. He defied the rebel sympathizers and au- 
 thorities there with unflinching bravery, and, in spite of 
 all threats, never ceased to stand up for the Union and 
 denounce secession until he was arrested and imprisoned. 
 After a confinement of several weeks, he was exchanged 
 for a prominent rebel officer, on condition that he should 
 leave East Tennessee. This brought him to Nashville. I 
 was amazed to find in him a tall, thin, beardless, hectic 
 man, who moved about with difficulty and spoke with a 
 husky voice. But, while his bodily weakness was extreme, 
 his strength of spirit seemed unabated. He was a very 
 entertaining talker, and spoke most movingly, with flash- 
 ing eyes and pointing finger, of the wrongs to himself and 
 his fellow-Tennesseeans. He stayed only a few days in 
 Nashville, and then took a boat for the North in response 
 to pressing invitations to speak in the larger cities, in- 
 cluding the national capital, which President Lincoln 
 himself had urged him to visit. Later, he was elected 
 United States Senator by the loyal legislature organized 
 by Andrew Johnson, and was admitted to the Senate.
 
 I M O 8 I L I 
 
 JULIUSSIEN * CO
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE BATTLE OF SHILOH. 1862 
 
 GENERAL A. S. JOHNSTON had fallen back at 
 first from Nashville in a southeasterly direction, to 
 Murf reesboro ', where he strengthened his force by rein- 
 forcements from Kentucky and Tennessee to the number 
 of nineteen thousand, and then moved by rail to the Mem- 
 phis & Charleston Kailroad and over this road to its 
 junction with the Mobile & Ohio Railroad at Corinth, in 
 the northeast corner of Mississippi. This railroad centre 
 was selected as the point of concentration for all the avail- 
 able rebel forces west of the Appalachian Mountains, as 
 from it they could be readily used for the protection of 
 both the middle rebel States and the Mississippi Valley. 
 At Corinth, Johnston found General Beauregard with ten 
 thousand men, and their united command continued to 
 receive accessions. The Union commanders became aware 
 of the proposed rebel concentration early in March, and 
 decided upon their future operations accordingly. 
 
 Very strong opinions have been expressed by competent 
 critics, during and since the war, that it was a grave mis- 
 take of our military leaders to make for the point chosen 
 by the enemy instead of drawing him away from it by 
 strategic moves and compelling him to meet them upon a 
 field chosen by themselves. It is not for me, however, to 
 discuss the merits or demerits of what was to be known 
 as the Shiloh campaign, but simply to record the fact 
 that Generals Halleck and Buell reached an understanding 
 that the latter 's army should join that of General Grant 
 at Savannah on the Tennessee River. The operations of 
 the united armies were to be conducted under the chief 
 
 235
 
 236 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 command of General Halleck. The railroads being de- 
 stroyed, there remained for General Buell only the long 
 march from Nashville to Savannah, for which he accord- 
 ingly prepared. 
 
 The orders for the march were issued on March 14. 
 Five divisions to wit, the First, Second, Fourth, Fifth, 
 and Sixth, under Generals Thomas, McCook, Nelson, Crit- 
 tenden, and Wood, aggregating thirty-seven thousand ef- 
 fective men were to move under the direct command of 
 General Buell, while the Third, under General Mitchel, 
 and the newly-formed Seventh, under Brigadier-General 
 G. W. Morgan, were to remain behind to protect Nashville 
 and clear middle Tennessee of rebels, and to take posses- 
 sion of and repair the railroads in that portion of the 
 State. The route to be followed led first in a southerly 
 direction to the considerable towns of Franklin and Co- 
 lumbia, thence turned to the southwest as far as Law- 
 renceburg, and from this point almost due west through 
 Waynesboro' to Savannah, a total distance of about one 
 hundred and ten miles. On March 15, a cavalry force 
 was sent to save the bridges at the two first-mentioned 
 places, but they had already been destroyed. McCook 's 
 division started the next day as the head of the army. The 
 Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, and First divisions followed in the 
 order mentioned, with an interval of a day between them. 
 
 I accompanied General McCook by invitation, messing 
 with his division quartermaster. I was well mounted on 
 a fine-looking, strong black horse that I had bought at a 
 low price at Nashville. General Buell had no instructions 
 to hasten, and hence we moved at a moderate pace. The 
 marching, too, was easy at first, over the fine turnpikes 
 from Nashville to Columbia. The country was rolling, 
 picturesque, and well cultivated, the home of large slave- 
 holders living in fine brick mansions on their broad 
 plantations until frightened off by the invaders. The 
 crossing of the stream at Franklin was not difficult, 
 but when we reached Columbia, thirty-five miles from
 
 1862] BUELL TO GRANT'S SUPPORT 237 
 
 Nashville, on the third day, we were stopped by the swollen 
 waters of the Duck River, which proved so wide and deep 
 that we had the alternative of bridging it or of waiting 
 for its subsidence. Strange to say, General Buell's army 
 was not provided with any pontoons. The construction 
 of a bridge being decided upon, General R. W. Johnson's 
 brigade of McCook's division was detailed to erect it. 
 The work was mainly performed by the numerous me- 
 chanics in the Thirty-second Indiana Regiment, entirely 
 composed of Germans and commanded by Colonel August 
 von Willich. He was descended from the old military 
 family of that name in Prussia, and had been an artillery 
 officer in the Prussian service until he embraced the revo- 
 lutionary cause in 1848 and 1849. After its failure, he 
 became an exile. He had brought his regiment up to a 
 high point of drill and discipline. It was considered the 
 best in Buell's army in these respects. I made the Col- 
 onel's acquaintance on this occasion, and found him a stern 
 and most able and energetic soldier, with astonishingly 
 radical political views for one of his antecedents. The 
 personal relations then formed continued till his death, 
 long after the close of the war. 
 
 The bridge construction delayed us ten days on Duck 
 River, and thereby came near entailing disastrous conse- 
 quences upon the Union cause that might have changed the 
 outcome of the Civil War. As all Buell's advices from Hal- 
 leek indicated that he (Buell) would meet Grant on the 
 right bank of the Tennessee that is, with the river be- 
 tween them and the enemy he felt no apprehension as to 
 Grant's safety before his junction with him. But, un- 
 known to him, it had been decided to transfer Grant's 
 command to the left bank at Pittsburg Landing, some 
 eight miles above Savannah. This transposition, together 
 with the knowledge of Buell's detention at Columbia, had 
 determined A. S. Johnston and Beauregard to strike a 
 blow at Grant before he was reinforced by Buell. The 
 official records make it plain that they would thus have
 
 238 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 succeeded in overwhelming Grant at Shiloh and destroying 
 his army but for the inspiration or foreboding of Buell's 
 division commanders. The naval soldier, General Nelson, 
 in his ever alert, anxious loyalty, grew fearful that Grant 
 was in great danger from the rebel concentration at Cor- 
 inth. He urged Buell in the last week of March to hurry 
 to his relief as rapidly as possible, but failed to convince 
 him of the need of any haste. His commander, moreover, 
 pointed out the difficulty of resuming the march before 
 the completion of the bridge over Duck River, which would 
 be finished anyway in a few days. Nelson then offered to 
 get his division over the river by fording it, as the river 
 had rapidly fallen and reached its ordinary stage. Buell 
 yielded to his earnest pleading for permission to try this, 
 and even consented to his forming the advance in place 
 of the Second Division, in case not only his infantry, but 
 also his cavalry and artillery and trains, could be got across. 
 The venturesome mariner immediately commenced his 
 preparations, and on the 28th issued formal orders for 
 the experiment. Reveille was sounded at four A.M. the next 
 day, and in two hours his command was ready to move, with 
 one day's rations in their haversacks. 
 
 Having obtained General Nelson's permission to accom- 
 pany him, I was on the bank at six o'clock, a witness 
 to very exciting and amusing scenes. As each infantry 
 regiment reached the ford, the men, stripping off their 
 pantaloons, rolled them up into small bundles which 
 they carried on the points of their fixed bayonets. The car- 
 tridge-boxes were hung around their necks. The men 
 then waded into the river, which was about one hundred 
 and seventy-five feet wide at the ford, and made the pas- 
 sage without any difficulty, the bottom being hard and 
 the greatest depth of water not exceeding three and one- 
 half feet. Approaches having been made down the steep 
 bank, the cavalry, artillery, and wagons effected the cross- 
 ing also, with but small mishaps, and the whole division 
 was safely encamped on the south b'ank before dark. The
 
 1862] BUELL TO GRANT'S SUPPORT 239 
 
 experiment was not repeated by the other troops, as the 
 bridge was completed the next day and McCook's division 
 made use of it on the second day. But the structure was 
 narrow and not strong enough to bear great weight, so 
 that much caution had to be used in moving the army over 
 it. The passage took four days. Nelson's fording exploit 
 was looked upon as an uncalled-for piece of bravado by his 
 fellow-commanders and the rank and file of the army gen- 
 erally. But the two days' start he gained thereby for his 
 division was to be a great boon to the Union cause. 
 
 The Fourth Division started early on the 29th en route 
 for Savannah. Instead of hard turnpikes, we found now 
 ordinary dirt roads, which the rain that had set in soon re- 
 duced to six and more inches of mud. They were so nar- 
 row that the fences on each side had to be thrown down 
 to make room for the troops. The soil deteriorated, too, 
 and the smaller size of the farms and the inferior cultiva- 
 tion indicated plainly that we were no longer in a region 
 where the "peculiar institution" prevailed, but in the do- 
 main of the "poor whites." It was very sparsely settled, 
 and we passed only at long intervals a few struggling ham- 
 lets consisting of a small number of unpainted, shabby 
 frame buildings. Even the so-called towns we came 
 through La wrenceburg, Mount Pleasant, and Waynes- 
 boro' were so small as not to deserve to be called even 
 " villages," and had a very thriftless, decayed appear- 
 ance. Rain continued to fall and seemed to grow heavier 
 from day to day. It made the march a very dreary and 
 trying one to the troops. In spite of all efforts, no more 
 than an average of ten miles a day could Ee accomplished, 
 owing to the heaviness of the roads. As the trains fol- 
 lowed in the rear of the division, the hardship of bivouack- 
 ing without tents was imposed on all except the command- 
 ers and their staffs, who managed to occupy the few human 
 habitations. I had a roof over me every night, but had to 
 sleep on the bare floor. 
 
 Either before or after leaving Columbia, General Buell
 
 240 HENRY VILLARD [18G2 
 
 decided to make a halt for concentration and rest at 
 Waynesboro', two days' easy march from Savannah, and 
 advised Generals Halleck and Grant, and instructed his 
 division commanders, accordingly. By a fortunate delay 
 of the cavalry detail carrying the order, it failed to reach 
 General Nelson. For some reason or other, the other divi- 
 sion commanders also did not receive their orders before 
 passing Waynesboro', so that General Buell's plan (re- 
 garding which Halleck wired him as late as April 5, "You 
 are right about concentrating at Waynesboro' ") to stop 
 there for a few days miscarried. Buell notified Grant 
 on April 3 from his camp, seven miles south of Columbia, 
 that he would come right through to Savannah with 
 his leading division. He rode so rapidly with his staff 
 that, on the evening of the following day, he could send 
 a message to Grant three miles west of Waynesboro' 
 (a field-telegraph line had been erected by an advance 
 party), that he desired to meet him in Savannah the next 
 day. He also asked for information about the position 
 and strength of the enemy. Grant answered from Savan- 
 nah on the 5th: "Your despatch just received. I will be 
 here to meet you to-morrow. The enemy at and near Cor- 
 inth from sixty to eighty thousand. Information deemed 
 reliable." This message constitutes indisputable proof 
 that its author did not dream of the fearful struggle that 
 burst upon him the next day. 
 
 In the meantime, Nelson pushed along with his division 
 as fast as possible. His cavalry advance reached Savan- 
 nah on the afternoon of April 3 ; himself and his staff, with 
 whom I rode, and the leading brigade arrived early on 
 the 5th. Savannah turned out to be no better than the 
 villages we had passed. It was situated on elevated ground 
 some distance from the river. As it was already crowded 
 with various headquarters and surrounded by train-camps, 
 camping-grounds for Nelson's division were selected about 
 one and a half miles east of the place. Having hardly 
 a dry thread on me, owing to the incessant rain, I con-
 
 1862J GRANT UNPREPARED 241 
 
 eluded to ride to the river and try for quarters on one 
 of the several boats made fast to the bank. Luckily, I suc- 
 ceeded in this, which meant not only a chance to dry my 
 clothes, but also my first decent meal in almost a week and 
 twelve hours' unbroken sleep in a good bed. General Bu- 
 ell, with his staff and body-guard, 1 also reached Savannah 
 on the evening of the 5th, but so late that he did not try 
 to hunt up General Grant before his appointment with 
 him for the next day, and simply notified him of his arrival. 
 
 Early in the morning, the report of musketry and artil- 
 lery fire was heard from up the river. It was so heavy that 
 General Buell felt sure a serious conflict had commenced. 
 He hastened to Grant's headquarters only to find that he 
 had already started up the river, leaving the following mes- 
 sage for him : 
 
 SAVANNAH, April 6 [Sunday], 1862. 
 
 Heavy firing is heard up the river, indicating plainly that an at- 
 tack has been made upon our most advanced positions. I have 
 been looking for this, but did not believe that the attack could be 
 made before Monday or Tuesday. This necessitates my joining the 
 forces up the river instead of meeting you to-day as I had contem- 
 plated. I have directed Nelson to move to the river with his 
 division. 
 
 It must be admitted that, if Grant had really been 
 ''looking for this," it was his duty as commander-in-chief 
 to be with his troops and not miles away and separated 
 from them by a river. His absence involved, indeed, the 
 lack of unity of command, the most essential condition of 
 success in battle, and actually compelled his division com- 
 manders to take care of themselves as best they could. 
 
 1 A select company of young manager in connection with the 
 Philadelphians of the better Denver & Kio Grande system. The 
 classes, especially recruited for company, I believe, was afterwards 
 this service and commanded by increased to a regiment, and Palm- 
 William J. Palmer, who, after the er came out of the war with the 
 war, made quite a name for him- rank of brigadier-general, 
 self as a railroad builder and 
 16
 
 242 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 When he reached the scene of the conflict, the worst blows 
 had already been suffered by his forces. 
 
 The directions to General Nelson referred to in Grant's 
 message were in the following form: 
 
 An attack having been made upon our forces, you will move your 
 entire command to the river opposite Pittsburg Landing. You can 
 easily obtain a guide in the village. 
 
 As General Buell had reported his arrival the night be- 
 fore to General Grant, the issue of this order direct to 
 Nelson can be explained only on the theory that Grant 
 failed to hear of Buell 's presence. This is confirmed 
 by the following message sent by Grant after he had 
 learned in person the condition of his command at Pitts- 
 burg Landing, not to General Buell, but to the ' ' Command- 
 ing Officer, Federal forces, near Pittsburg, Tennessee." 
 
 GENERAL : The attack upon my forces has been very spirited from 
 early this morning. The appearance of fresh troops on the field 
 now would have a powerful effect, both by inspiring our men and 
 disheartening the enemy. If you will get upon the field, leaving all 
 baggage on the east bank of the river, it will be a move to our ad- 
 vantage and possibly save the day to us. The rebel force is esti- 
 mated at over one hundred thousand men. 
 
 This appeal for help, as well as Grant's first message, 
 fortunately reached Buell and made him alive to the ne- 
 cessity of promptly giving all possible aid to his fellow- 
 commander. He at once sent peremptory orders to all 
 the division commanders still en route (Crittenden was just 
 arriving), to hurry on to the river with the utmost de- 
 spatch. He next hunted up General Nelson (who, for 
 some never explained reason, did not receive Grant's order 
 till noon), and ordered him to move at once to Pittsburg. 
 There was some delay, too, in finding a guide, so that the 
 division did not get fully under way until after one. The 
 road crossed a bottom partially under water, and was in 
 so bad a condition that the artillery could not be moved
 
 1862] ROUT AT PITTSBURG LANDING 243 
 
 over it at all. Even the infantry had to flounder all 
 the way through mire, sometimes over a foot deep. But 
 the officers and men struggled along most willingly, 
 spurred on by the constantly increasing roar of battle, and 
 by the inspiriting feeling that they were hurrying to the 
 rescue of their brethren-in-arms. Yet it took them nearly 
 four hours to accomplish the distance of seven miles, and 
 it was nearly five o'clock when the head of Ammen's bri- 
 gade, which had the lead, reached Pittsburg Landing. 
 
 The general belief at Savannah was at first that the 
 firing we heard was incidental to a reconnoissance in force, 
 or to a skirmish of outposts; but, as it grew more violent 
 and continuous, the conviction spread that a general en- 
 gagement was going on. Grant's second message deter- 
 mined General Buell to go at once to the scene of action 
 with part of his staff, and for that purpose he luckily 
 ordered the very boat on which I had taken up my abode 
 to get up steam. It was, however, only between three and 
 four P.M. that we got under way. We had not proceeded 
 very far when we began to notice numbers of soldiers on 
 the west bank, and became satisfied that they were skul- 
 kers from the fight. More and more of them came in sight, 
 and when we were still some distance from our destination 
 they had increased to frequent and thick crowds. But, 
 as our boat turned towards the Landing, we saw before 
 us a dense mass apparently numbering thousands. I was 
 standing with Captain Fry, the chief of staff, on the up- 
 per deck, and, appalled at the sight, exclaimed to him: 
 ' ' Oh, heavens ! Captain, here is Bull Run all over again ! ' ' 
 We heard the unbroken roar of artillery as we steamed up, 
 and, as we neared the scene of the struggle, the sounds of 
 rapid musketry discharges also became distinct, and we 
 could see the flight of shells from the heavy guns of the 
 two Union gunboats in position just above the Landing. 
 We shuddered when we perceived ball after ball from reBel 
 guns fall on the top of the very bluff under which the 
 multitude of fugitives had sought shelter unmistakable,
 
 244 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 distressing evidence of the nearness of the enemy. Our 
 first impression could not be other than that the rebels 
 had swept Grant 's forces from the field, and that those who 
 had not been killed, wounded, or captured were cowering 
 before us, awaiting their inevitable fate. 
 
 On landing, we were met by an overwhelming confir- 
 mation of our apprehensions. We found ourselves, indeed, 
 amid an immense, panic-stricken, uncontrollable mob. 
 There were between seven and ten thousand men, of all 
 arms and of all ranks, from field officers downward, all 
 apparently entirely bereft of soldierly spirit, with no sense 
 of obedience left, and animated by the sole impulse of 
 personal safety. A number of officers, mounted and on 
 foot, were making strenuous efforts to re-form the disor- 
 ganized and demoralized throng; but neither exhortations, 
 orders, adjurations nor threats produced any effect. Gen- 
 eral Buell brought his authority into play, but was no more 
 obeyed than the others. Nothing availed against the in- 
 creasing fright caused by the rebel balls and bullets that 
 now began to fall among the crowd, killing several. At 
 this critical moment, hope was revived by the landing of 
 Colonel Ammen's brigade of the Fourth Division, brought 
 over by boat from the opposite bank. It was accompanied 
 by General Nelson himself. With that Jupiter head on his 
 herculean figure, mounted on a heavy charger, he looked 
 the personification of Orlando Furioso, as he rode up 
 through the packed crowds, waving his hat and shouting: 
 "Fall in, boys, fall in and follow me. We shall whip them 
 yet." Finding this did no good, he drew his sword and 
 commenced belaboring the poltroons around him, berating 
 them at the same time with his stentorian voice, in lan- 
 guage more forcible than polished. His extraordinary 
 swearing indicated plainly that he had had great practice 
 in that sort of admonition on the quarter-deck. Finding 
 that this method also availed nothing, he applied to Gen- 
 eral Buell, who had waited for him at the Landing, for 
 permission to drive the stragglers back at the point of the
 
 1862] NELSON TO THE RESCUE 245 
 
 bayonet, and, if they resisted, to fire on them. But he 
 was not allowed to resort to extreme measures. 
 
 Buell, without wasting time in trying to find Grant, as 
 immediate action was necessary to prevent the enemy from 
 reaching the river, joined Nelson in leading Ammen's bri- 
 gade up the bluff. On reaching the plateau, it found 
 itself directly under the fire of the hostile artillery. It was 
 then between five and six o'clock, and the light was fast 
 giving way to darkness. Two regiments of the brigade, 
 the Sixth Ohio and the Thirty-sixth Indiana, were at once 
 deployed and pushed forward. Their vigorous advance 
 caused the rebel guns to retreat. They came close enough 
 to the rebels in front to exchange several volleys with them. 
 Their advance, together with the enfilading fire of the gun- 
 boats, checked the enemy. Night put an end to the battle. 
 
 I had followed Nelson's men to the top of the bluff, 
 and remained there awaiting developments. I had as lit- 
 tle idea of what had really happened to Grant's army as 
 General Buell himself. Nor could I get any connected 
 account out of the runaway officers I met. They had no- 
 thing to say except this: "We were surprised at breakfast 
 by rebels four times as strong as ourselves;" "My regiment 
 was cut all to pieces ; " ' ' We were ordered to retreat, ' ' and 
 such other excuses for knowing nothing. Grant's head- 
 quarters were said to be near, but I could not get to them 
 before dark. I made my way back to the Landing, after 
 the firing had ceased, thinking that my best plan would 
 be to find shelter for the night which threatened to be 
 very trying, as a pouring rain had set in on the boat on 
 which I had come. But it had been ordered to help bring 
 the remainder of Nelson's division and the other divisions 
 of Buell 's army across the river as fast as possible, and I 
 had to wait nearly an hour before it returned from the 
 opposite bank with a huge load of men. It took a long 
 time to discharge them, and then I found to my great cha- 
 grin that I could not possibly get my horse on board again, 
 so that I had to choose between abandoning him and pass-
 
 246 HENRY VILLAED [1862 
 
 ing the night as best I could on the bank. Of course, I 
 faced the latter necessity. After spending some time along 
 the Landing in vain attempts to find something to eat for 
 myself and my animal, I decided to follow the next ar- 
 rival from Crittenden's division, which followed Nelson's, 
 wherever it might be led, so as to be at any rate at the 
 front in the morning. In so doing, I luckily came by the 
 bivouac of Nelson's headquarters, where I was made wel- 
 come by one of the staff to the partial shelter of a rubber 
 blanket hung between two trees near a big log fire, and 
 also to some hard-tack, cold bacon, and brandy and water. 
 My horse was taken charge of by an orderly, but was neither 
 fed nor unsaddled. 
 
 None of us attempted to sleep during that memorable, 
 dismal night. Nor would sleep have been possible, as the 
 gunboats sent roaring eight-inch shells over us every ten 
 minutes (in pursuance of the recommendation of General 
 Nelson), in the direction of the enemy, in order at least 
 to deprive the rebels of rest. We sat around the fire, 
 protected as much as possible from the incessant rain by 
 waterproofs, discussing the disaster of the day and the 
 chances for the morrow. Little being known as to the actual 
 condition to which Grant's command had been reduced by 
 its defeat, there was anything but confident expectation. 
 On the contrary, all were very anxious about the outcome 
 of the next twenty-four hours. 
 
 The movement of Buell's troops from the right to the 
 left bank continued all night long. The commanders not 
 only managed to get the full infantry force of Nelson 
 and Crittenden's divisions, but also three batteries of 
 artillery, across the river before daybreak. Even General 
 McCook's division reached the front in the morning, after 
 an extraordinary all-night march. Buell and the two first- 
 mentioned division commanders labored as best they could 
 in the darkness, being ignorant of the ground, to get the 
 troops in proper position for an offensive movement as soon 
 as it was light enough for it. With Nelson's staff, I was
 
 1862] SECOND DAY OF SHILOH 247 
 
 up and stirring at four on the morning of April 7. The 
 General himself roused his command quietly by riding 
 through the bivouac. At five, he was able to report to Gen- 
 eral Buell, by an aide-de-camp, that his line of battle with 
 skirmishers in front was ready to move, and received or- 
 ders to advance on the enemy. Crittenden advanced simul- 
 taneously on Nelson's right. I followed in the rear with 
 the ambulances. At half-past five the first shots fell, and, 
 in a few minutes, the musketry-firing was heavy, and pres- 
 ently hostile balls and shells were whizzing over us. Nel- 
 son was ordered to stop till Crittenden had closed up on 
 his right and the two field batteries were brought up and 
 put in position to answer effectively the artillery on the 
 other side. Our divisions then moved on again, but were 
 confronted, at about seven, by a strong rebel force that 
 attempted to turn Nelson's left, and, though foiled in 
 this, attacked him so vigorously, supported by a heavy fire 
 from two batteries, that his command began to yield, when 
 the enemy was checked by the well-directed fire of Menden- 
 hall's regular battery. By eight o'clock the musketry and 
 artillery fire from both sides combined into a terrific roar, 
 and hissing and humming missiles flew thickly around us. 
 It seemed as if Crittenden and Nelson were not strong 
 enough to make headway against the bodies opposed to 
 them. But, fortunately, Rousseau's brigade of McCook's 
 division then reached the ground and was immediately 
 formed in line on the right of Crittenden. The other bri- 
 gades of the same division followed it closely and took up 
 position on its left. 
 
 Our line now extended about a mile and a half. The 
 ground in front of it consisted partly of open fields and 
 partly of patches of wood, with thick undergrowth. It 
 was almost level before Nelson, but broken by ravines be- 
 fore Crittenden and McCook. The right wing was not 
 in touch, however, with Grant's command. About nine 
 o'clock we were ready for another advance along the whole 
 line. The battle was speedily raging again with great vio-
 
 248 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 lence. From one end of the line to the other, the combat 
 lasted for hours, with hardly a lull in the deafening dis- 
 charge of small arms and guns. Although but a short dis- 
 tance in the rear of the fighting front and actually under 
 fire, it was not possible for me to follow the course of the 
 struggle from my position, owing to the character of the 
 ground and the thickness of the atmosphere from the fall- 
 ing rain mixed with the dense powder-smoke that hung 
 over the field. Nor could I expect to learn anything re- 
 liable and connected by remaining in one spot. A sort 
 of field-hospital was established near by, to which the 
 wounded were being brought, in steadily increasing num- 
 bers, presenting sights that made me heart-sick, as I 
 had not seen human blood spilled since the battle of Bull 
 Run. But what intelligence the carriers of stretchers, and 
 the surgeons that passed to and fro, brought from the 
 front confused rather than enlightened me. Hence I 
 mounted and set out in search of Buell's and the division 
 headquarters. 
 
 I soon found the former, but obtained only very scanty 
 information. Then I tried to discover McCook, in whose 
 direction the heaviest firing was heard. I met the General 
 and staff at a critical moment. Rousseau's brigade, soon 
 after being placed in line, had been vigorously attacked. 
 It repelled the enemy and drove him some distance, cap- 
 turing a battery. Its advance caused an opening in the 
 line between McCook and Crittenden through which the 
 rebels quickly attempted to push with a very strong force. 
 Perceiving this danger, Colonel von Willich, with his 
 Thirty-second Indiana Regiment, was ordered to strike 
 them, and made a most gallant attack, first delivering sev- 
 eral volleys and then charging with the bayonet. Von 
 Willich 's was followed by the other regiments of Gibson's 
 brigade, but they were caught in a withering cross-fire and 
 compelled to fall back in considerable confusion. General 
 McCook was doing his best to check this untoward turn 
 when I found him. Kirk's brigade was brought to the
 
 1862J SHILOH WON 249 
 
 relief of Gibson, and stemmed the rebel advance till Rous- 
 seau's brigade had replenished its cartridge-boxes and 
 could again take the offensive. Then the whole division 
 once more advanced, and pressed the still vigorously fight- 
 ing enemy steadily back till his resistance ended in retreat. 
 During the desperate struggle of Gibson's and Kirk's bri- 
 gades, there was a continuous whistling of bullets above 
 and around us, and it was marvellous that none of the 
 staff were wounded. McCook's part in the conflict was so 
 severe that I felt sure he was bearing the brunt of it, and 
 hence I remained with him till it closed. After the firing 
 had ceased altogether, I hunted up successively Crittenden 
 and Nelson, and only then learned that they, too, had been 
 engaged right along in meeting hostile attacks and follow- 
 ing them up with counter ones, resulting in a steady gain 
 of ground. They forced the enemy finally into full retreat 
 by a flank attack by the Fourth and a front one by the 
 Fifth Division, supported by a concentric fire from three 
 batteries. Crittenden 's command captured seven field- 
 pieces in this decisive movement. Just before the close of 
 the fighting, two brigades of General Wood's Sixth Divi- 
 sion appeared, one of which, Colonel Wagner's, was started 
 in pursuit of the enemy, but stopped by order after follow- 
 ing him about- a mile. 
 
 My recollection is, that it was about four o'clock P.M. 
 when the sound of battle had entirely died away, but, 
 strange to say, no reference whatever to time is made in 
 the official reports of General Buell and his division com- 
 manders. I am sure, at any rate, that it was daylight still 
 for nearly two hours after the end of the battle, enabling 
 me to gather many additional details of the contest relat- 
 ing to the engaged portion of the Army of the Ohio. I 
 saw enough killed and wounded Unionists and rebels scat- 
 tered over the battle-field to indicate heavy losses on both 
 sides, but accurate figures were, of course, unobtainable 
 on that day. The usual suffering of the wounded from 
 thirst was alleviated by the heavy rain that was still fall-
 
 250 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 ing, yet many meanings and cries for help reached my 
 ears. Buell's troops had recovered the camps from which 
 the rebels had driven Sherman's, McClernand 's, Hurlbut's, 
 Prentiss's, and Wallace's divisions of Grant's army the 
 day before, but were not permitted to make themselves 
 comfortable in them, and had to bivouac as best they could 
 for another night. I was so very tired, wet, and hungry 
 my animal also being in an entirely fagged-out condition 
 that I made up my mind to find something better for us 
 both than the scanty fare and wet ground that had been 
 our lot for nearly thirty hours, and made for the Landing 
 some time before dark. There were eight boats lying there, 
 and great was my joy when I spied, standing on the bow 
 of one of them, a division quartermaster whom I had be- 
 come well acquainted with at Louisville. I hailed him, 
 and he responded at once in the heartiest manner to my 
 request for food and shelter for "man and beast." My 
 horse was turned over to a deck-hand. I was shown to 
 a stateroom, and soon I sat down to a generous hot supper, 
 to which I did the amplest justice. I was too exhausted 
 for any brain work that evening, and sought sleep as early 
 as possible. 
 
 After ten hours' solid, unconscious rest and a hearty 
 breakfast, I was ready and eager for work. I had but 
 partial material for a complete account of the two days' 
 battle; hence my first object had to be, if there were no 
 more fighting, to secure information regarding the ex- 
 periences of Grant's army during the two days, and, if 
 possible, also something about the enemy. By eight o'clock 
 I was riding up the bluff again. The swarms of skulkers had 
 almost disappeared, and in their place there was a great 
 jam of ambulances, bringing wounded to the two hospital- 
 boats, and army wagons loading provisions, forage, and 
 ammunition. I proceeded first to Buell's headquarters. 
 There I learned that Wood 's two brigades had been ordered 
 to resume the pursuit of the enemy and were already in 
 motion, and that Sherman's division had received orders
 
 1862] A BLOODY FIELD 251 
 
 to the same effect. As I was anxious to obtain Sherman's 
 version of the battle, and feared the pursuit might take 
 him beyond reach, I rode immediately in search of 
 him, and luckily succeeded in finding his camp. He was 
 just ready to mount. On the first day he had been slightly 
 wounded in the right hand, which was bandaged, but 
 he would not allow this to interfere with his duties. He 
 favored me with a succinct, clear, very frank, and strictly 
 truthful account of his own varied fortunes on Sunday 
 and Monday, as well as those of the other division com- 
 manders of Grant in their relations to him. These I then 
 tried to hunt up, and to revisit McCook, Crittenden, and 
 Nelson a harder task than I had supposed, for rain was 
 still pouring down, and the ground fought over everywhere 
 had turned into mire from one to two feet deep. On 
 Grant's line there was still a good deal of confusion. I 
 did not get through with my tour of exploration till nearly 
 three o'clock. 
 
 I had spent considerable time in studying no, this 
 is too strong an expression in contemplating the "hor- 
 rors of war," as exemplified by the dreadful sights all 
 over the battle-field. Once only, later in the war, did I 
 behold a spectacle equally grim, shocking, and sickening. 
 There was bloody evidence in every direction that the 
 slaughter had been great. Neither the one side nor the 
 other had removed its dead, and there they were, blue 
 and gray, in their starkness, lying here singly and there 
 literally in rows and heaps. I passed more than a thou- 
 sand of them. It was morbid, perhaps, on my part, but 
 I lingered to see the effect of sudden violent death on 
 features and limbs. It surprised me that the faces of most 
 of these victims of battle bore a peaceful, contented expres- 
 sion, and that many lay as though they had consciously 
 stretched themselves out to sleep. But there were also 
 many ghastly exceptions, with features repulsively dis- 
 torted by pain and hatred. There seemed to be but few 
 killed by heavy missiles. Hundreds of severely wounded
 
 252 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 were likewise still lying about some in the last agonies, 
 others awaiting quietly their fate, and, alas! many 
 writhing and shrieking in torture from horrible wounds. 
 There was a little frame church near where I had found 
 Sherman, known as the Shiloh meeting-house (it gave its 
 name to the battle), whose interior presented the most 
 woeful scene in all this sadness. The seats for the wor- 
 shippers had been removed, and on the floor were extended, 
 in two rows, on the bare planks and without any cover over 
 them, twenty-seven dead and dying rebels, officers and 
 men. Not a human being was about to offer them tender 
 mercies. They had been left to their fate, all being ob- 
 viously beyond relief. Passing the field hospitals, other 
 awful evidences of the bloody work forced themselves upon 
 my observation in the form of piles of amputated limbs. 
 No one as yet knew the extent of the casualties, but I was 
 satisfied that there must have been between eight and 
 ten thousand killed and wounded on our side, which esti- 
 mate was not far from the actual figures. 
 
 I had made some inquiries as to telegraph and mail 
 facilities at the different headquarters, and ascertained 
 that of the former there were as yet none, and that even 
 after they should be secured, newspaper correspondents 
 would not be permitted to use them. As to mails, they 
 would be sent by boats to Cairo, one of which was to start 
 that evening. I stopped again at Buell's headquarters on 
 my way to the Landing, and learned that Wood's pursuit 
 had been continued for eight miles without coming up 
 with the enemy. Sherman had struck the Confederate 
 cavalry rear-guard and driven it back after a lively skir- 
 mish. He had obtained positive information that the rebel 
 army was retreating to Corinth. As this rendered it cer- 
 tain that fighting would not occur for some days at least, 
 the thought came to me that it would be a good plan, in 
 order to save time in preparing and sending forward my 
 account of the battle, to go down the river on the first boat, 
 write out my report on the way, and mail it at Cairo on
 
 1862] REVIEW OF THE BATTLE 253 
 
 arrival. In pursuance of this, I asked my friend the 
 quartermaster to get me a permit to go on the boat, and 
 to take care of my horse till my return. He agreed to both, 
 and by four o'clock I was properly installed on the side- 
 wheeler that was to leave the same evening for Cairo. I 
 was already congratulating myself on my smartness in 
 hitting upon this scheme, from which I expected a decided 
 advantage in time over other correspondents, when I dis- 
 covered that two other correspondents had been equally 
 acute and were fellow-passengers. I made their acquain- 
 tance, and found them very pleasant companions. One of 
 them was Whitelaw Eeid, who achieved a considerable 
 reputation as a war-correspondent, tried cotton-planting 
 unsuccessfully after the war, and then returned to the jour- 
 nalistic profession. He became the regular Washington 
 correspondent and part owner of the Cincinnati Gazette, 
 and subsequently editor and owner of the New York Trib- 
 une, and United States Minister to France. As my col- 
 leagues had been with Grant's army and knew very little 
 of Buell's part in the conflict, we helped each other by 
 exchanging notes. 
 
 I repeat that I am not trying in these memoirs to write 
 formal history, but to relate personal happenings and 
 observations. Yet in this particular case it seems to me 
 proper, in order to render the foregoing more complete and 
 intelligible, to describe also what happened on the field 
 previous to the appearance of Buell's army. In so doing, 
 I shall not enter into details, but shall merely outline the 
 preceding operations of Grant's command, for the double 
 reason that this will be sufficient for a clearer comprehen- 
 sion of what I have written, and that nothing like accurate 
 particulars have ever been available. With all the official 
 reports before me, I do not hesitate to say that it is im- 
 possible to make up from them a lucid, full, and correct 
 description of the battle. I do not believe that the offi- 
 cial records of any other battle of the Civil War left so 
 many points in doubt. In order to impart greater accu-
 
 254 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 racy and perhaps some novelty to my sketch, I feel justified 
 in availing myself also of the authoritative rebel accounts, 
 and especially of General Beauregard's official report to 
 the Richmond authorities. I make these references to my 
 sources of information so that I may not be charged with 
 pretending to greater personal knowledge of the battle than 
 I actually acquired. 
 
 According to the rebel records, Beauregard, with the ap- 
 proval of his Government, decided and acted on the plan 
 of foiling the supposed purpose of the Northern com- 
 manders of cutting the Confederacy in two through the 
 destruction of the railroad lines of communication in 
 southwestern Tennessee and northern Mississippi and 
 Alabama, by rapidly concentrating all the available forces 
 west of the Alleghanies at and about Corinth. He pushed 
 this concentration very energetically, and, by the end of 
 March, the commands of Generals A. S. Johnston, Polk, 
 and Bragg and other troops sent by the governors of the 
 States named were collected in that locality, to the aggre- 
 gate number of forty thousand fighting men. General John- 
 ston, by virtue of his superior rank, assumed chief command 
 on reaching Corinth. He approved of the previously con- 
 ceived plan of Beauregard described by the latter in his 
 report on the battle (in which Johnston had been killed), 
 to wit: "to assume the offensive and strike a sudden blow 
 at the enemy in position under General Grant on the west 
 bank of the Tennessee at Pittsburg and in the direction 
 of Savannah, before he was reinforced by the army under 
 General Buell, then known to be advancing for that pur- 
 pose by rapid marches from Nashville via Columbia. By 
 a rapid and vigorous attack on General Grant, it was ex- 
 pected he would be beaten back into his transports and the 
 river, or captured in time to enable us to profit by the 
 victory and remove to the rear all the stores and muni- 
 tions that would fall into our hands in such an event 
 before the arrival of General Buell on the scene." The 
 proposed attack was bold and sound strategy, directly
 
 1862] THE REBEL ADVANCE 255 
 
 invited by General Grant's grave mistake in placing his 
 command on the west bank and thus exposing it to attack, 
 with the river between him and his expected reinforce- 
 ments. This flagrant blunder, contrary to elementary 
 strategic rules, appears the more inexcusable in view of 
 Grant's belief, as expressed in his dispatches to Buell 
 before quoted, that the rebel forces amounted to one hun- 
 dred thousand, while he himself had, according to the of- 
 ficial returns, not over forty thousand effectives, of which, 
 as will be shown, only about thirty-three thousand became 
 actually engaged. 
 
 The rebel commanders worked very industriously in 
 getting ready for the attack, but, to quote again from 
 Beauregard's report, "want of proper officers needful for 
 the proper organization of divisions and brigades, and 
 other difficulties in the way of an effective organization, 
 delayed the movement until the night of the second [of 
 April], when it was heard from a reliable quarter that the 
 junction of the enemy was near at hand. It was then, 
 at a late hour, determined that the attack should be at- 
 tempted at once, incomplete and imperfect as were our 
 preparations for such a grave and momentous venture, 
 and, accordingly, the same night, at one o'clock on the 
 morning of the third, formal orders to the commanders 
 of corps were issued for the movement." 
 
 The starting-points were Corinth and its immediate vi- 
 cinity, averaging a distance of about twenty miles from the 
 positions of the Federal forces. The rebel chiefs calcu- 
 lated to arrive near the latter on the fourth and assail 
 them early on the fifth. If they had succeeded in this, 
 they would doubtless, as the sequel showed, have accom- 
 plished their purpose and destroyed or captured the whole 
 of Grant's command before Buell could have come to its 
 rescue. Happily for the Union cause, the march of the 
 Confederates took a day longer. I am sure these twenty- 
 four hours weighed more decidedly in the balance of events 
 than any other day in the course of the Civil War. It is not
 
 256 HENEY VILLARD [1862 
 
 too much to say, indeed, that, but for this delay, Grant 
 would not have become a great historical figure and the 
 conqueror of Robert E. Lee, and the Rebellion might have 
 succeeded. The fortunate loss of time was due to the 
 double fact that the rebel troops were unused to marching, 
 and that the roads were too narrow, and were rendered 
 almost impassable by a heavy rainfall on the fourth. 
 
 The country between Corinth and Pittsburg Landing 
 consists of an undulating table-land, mainly covered with 
 dense woods and such thick underbrush as to render the 
 passage of troops difficult. It was then little better than 
 a wilderness, broken here and there only by small clear- 
 ings of from forty to eighty acres, with clusters of log 
 buildings indicating that a few settlers tried to extract a 
 scanty living from the indifferent soil. A main road runs 
 from Corinth due north for about fifteen miles, when it 
 branches off into two roads, one to Pittsburg Landing and 
 the other to Hamburg Landing, four miles above the 
 former. The plateau gradually ascends between the two 
 landings, and, some miles from the river, shows hilly for- 
 mations. Two streams, Owl and Lick Creeks, rise there, 
 about three miles apart, and flow into the Tennessee. On 
 the ground between them, the battle was fought. 
 
 The rebel advance did not reach the intersection of the 
 two roads from Hamburg and Pittsburg, within a short 
 distance of the Federal encampments, till late in the after- 
 noon of Saturday, April 5. General Johnston determined 
 to attack as early as possible the next morning with his 
 army in the following formation: three lines of battle en 
 echelon, extending from Owl Creek on the left to Lick 
 Creek on the right. The first line consisted of Hardee's 
 corps, fully deployed with their artillery and cavalry in 
 the rear of the wings. The second line included General 
 Bragg 's corps, and was similarly formed, five hundred 
 yards from the first. General Polk's corps formed the 
 third line at a distance of eight hundred yards from the 
 second, in lines of brigades deployed with batteries in rear
 
 1862] GRANT SURPRISED 257 
 
 of each brigade, and the left wing supported by cavalry. 
 Behind all came a reserve under General Breckinridge. 
 
 Thus the rebels stood ready, under able, energetic com- 
 manders, to fall with concentrated might upon the unsus- 
 pecting Union forces. There raged for a long time after 
 the battle an acrimonious controversy in the press and in 
 public forums over the question, whether the rebel attack 
 was a surprise to Grant's troops. While it was no doubt 
 true that the Union pickets were on the alert, and that 
 their firing gave a short warning to the Federal camps of 
 the approach of the enemy before the hostile host was ac- 
 tually upon them, it is likewise incontestable that neither 
 General Sherman, whose division held the most advanced 
 position, nor General Grant, had the remotest suspicion 
 that the whole rebel army was within artillery range of the 
 former. Witnes Sherman's report by field-telegraph on 
 that very Saturday afternoon to Grant: "All is quiet 
 along my lines now. The enemy has cavalry in our front, 
 and I think there are two regiments and one battery six 
 miles out" (sic!). And still later in the day he reported 
 further : " I do not apprehend anything like an attack upon 
 our position." Witness, further, Grant's dispatch to 
 superior authority on the same day: "I have scarcely the 
 faintest idea of an attack being made upon us, but will be 
 prepared, should such a thing take place." 
 
 It is hard to reconcile the actual situation of his com- 
 mand with this confident assurance that he "will be pre- 
 pared." The disconnected location of his six divisions on 
 the west bank surely was not such as a cautious commander 
 should allow if he thought an attack possible. Sherman's 
 separate command had the most advanced position on the 
 main road to Corinth, but his several brigades were spread 
 out over too much ground. McClernand's was some dis- 
 tance in the rear of it ; Prentiss's division was on Sherman's 
 left, but not in close touch with it. Hurlbut's and W. 
 H. L. Wallace's divisions were near Pittsburg Landing, 
 from two to three miles from the others. Lew Wallace's 
 
 17
 
 258 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 division was from five to six miles away, at and about 
 Cramp's Landing, below Pittsburg. It was not only the 
 intervening distance, but also the broken nature of the 
 ground separating the several camps, that made it im- 
 practicable to form quickly a connected defensive line. 
 Still worse, the divisions formed entirely independent mili- 
 tary units. In other words, no one division commander 
 had authority over the other commanders. They all had 
 to report to, and receive orders from, General Grant, who 
 remained, as we have seen, at Savannah up to almost noon 
 of the first day of battle an unpardonable error, fraught, 
 as it proved, with the greatest peril. Yet other faults of 
 omission were chargeable to the Federal side. The ap- 
 proaches from Corinth were not properly guarded. No 
 effort was made to protect the front against a sudden hos- 
 tile offensive by field defences such as were so systemat- 
 ically and effectively used in the subsequent advances on 
 Corinth and in all the later campaigns of the war. Last, 
 not least, there lay special weakness in the fact that the 
 very front divisions contained a number of entirely raw 
 regiments which had had hardly any drilling and but lim- 
 ited knowledge of the use of their arms. Hence it was 
 inevitable that, when the hostile array surged upon the 
 camps like a flood tide, the instant effect was confusion, 
 terror, and all but panic. 
 
 The rebel advance began before six A.M. By seven, 
 the front line had reached the Federal advance-guard and 
 firing commenced. Sherman even then did not appre- 
 hend a general attack, but sent word of the appearance 
 of the enemy in force in his immediate front to Generals 
 Prentiss, McClernand, and Hurlbut, asking the two latter 
 he could not "order" them to get ready to support him 
 and Prentiss respectively with their commands. While 
 a fusillade was uninterruptedly going on between seven 
 and eight along his line, it was only at eight that he be- 
 came "satisfied for the first time," to quote from his report, 
 "that the enemy designed a determined attack upon our
 
 1862] THE FEDERAL ROUT 259 
 
 whole camp. ' ' To meet it, he had succeeded in forming his 
 division, which immediately became heavily engaged, and 
 within an hour was forced, by the determined onsets of 
 superior numbers, to give way in great disorder, the 
 enemy driving it through its camps and far beyond, and 
 capturing guns and many prisoners. 
 
 Meantime, Prentiss fared much worse. The main object 
 of the rebel attack was to overwhelm the Federal left and 
 thus open a short way to Grant's base of supplies at Pitts- 
 burg Landing. To that end, simultaneously with their 
 move on Sherman, they threw upon Prentiss an even 
 heavier mass. His resistance was of no more avail than 
 Sherman's. His division was soon forced to yield, and 
 was driven back through its own camp upon McClernand 
 and Hurlbut. The "Alpine avalanche," as Beauregard 
 not unfitly calls it, rolled on and next struck McClernand. 
 He had but two brigades with which to resist, having sent 
 one early to the support of Sherman. Hurlbut came to 
 his assistance, and the two, with parts of Prentiss 's divi- 
 sion, struggled with Sherman on their right through the 
 forenoon and afternoon to stem the rebel progress. But 
 they were compelled to retreat from position to position 
 and fall back over miles of ground, nearer and nearer to 
 the river. Between five and six o'clock, the rebel right 
 had arrived within a few thousand feet of the river, and 
 their shot and shell fell on the bluff rising from the Land- 
 ing. Some of the rebel cavalry even reached the river 
 a short distance above Pittsburg and watered their horses. 
 At this most critical juncture, hope of salvation came with 
 the appearance of General Nelson's brigade just in time 
 to fill the unprotected space, on the left of Grant's retreat- 
 ing troops, through which the enemy was pushing for the 
 Landing. 
 
 Assuming that Beauregard tells the truth in his report 
 and there is no good reason to doubt it he did not know 
 before dark on Sunday that the advance of Buell's army 
 had actually reached the field, and was made aware of the
 
 260 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 fact only by the vigorous attacks on his right early next 
 morning. He records his expectation, up to that discovery, 
 of completing the Federal discomfiture on Monday, but 
 admits that his ' ' officers and men were exhausted by a com- 
 bat of over twelve hours without food, and jaded by the 
 march of the previous day through mud and water." He 
 adds: "During the night, the rain fell in torrents, add- 
 ing to the discomfort and harassed condition of the men; 
 the enemy, moreover, had broken their rest by a discharge, 
 at measured intervals, of heavy shells thrown from the 
 gunboats. Therefore, on the following morning, the troops 
 under my command were not in a condition to cope with 
 an equal force of fresh troops, armed and equipped like 
 our adversary." He claims that, notwithstanding this 
 disparity, his troops withstood and repelled all offensive 
 attempts on the second day up to one P.M., when he volun- 
 tarily withdrew from so "unequal a conflict." 
 
 This claim is flatly contradicted by the official reports 
 of General Buell and his division commanders. Moreover, 
 the rebel archives contain a report from Beauregard's 
 chief aide-de-camp to him, directly affirming that, notwith- 
 standing the General's strenuous personal efforts in seiz- 
 ing and waving regimental flags to make his troops stand, 
 they did not respond, but steadily yielded ground after 
 eleven A.M. on Monday. It is beyond all question just 
 as true that the rebels were compelled to retreat by the 
 attack of the comparatively fresh Federal divisions, as 
 that the latter saved what was left of Grant's army from 
 capture or destruction. Its remnants were re-formed as 
 well as possible, and, with Lew Wallace's division, which 
 turned up at the close of Sunday's fighting, did their 
 share on Monday on Buell 's right in making the enemy 
 yield up their encampments. But as they, together, 
 hardly numbered more than fifteen thousand, of which 
 nearly two thirds consisted of odds and ends of four divi- 
 sions, no decisive offensive power could well be claimed for 
 them.
 
 1862] DEATH OF A. S. JOHNSTON 261 
 
 Besides the physical exhaustion of the rebels on Sunday, 
 other causes worked on their side to bring about their final 
 failure. The most hurtful of these was no doubt the kill- 
 ing of their Commander-in-chief, General A. S. Johnston, 
 between two and three P.M. on Sunday. While riding with 
 the attacking columns, he was struck by several bullets, 
 one of which cut an artery and made him bleed to death 
 in fifteen minutes. His death was probably a greater blow 
 to the Confederacy than the defeat of his purpose, for, 
 according to the testimony of all who knew him person- 
 ally, on the Southern as well as on the Northern side, there 
 was the stuff for another Robert E. Lee in him, and he 
 might have proved as formidable an antagonist on the 
 western as the latter on the eastern theatre of war. Jef- 
 ferson Davis fully recognized this in his official lament 
 over the Confederacy's irreparable loss. Perhaps even 
 the result at Shiloh would have been different if Johnston 
 had lived. Leaving his admittedly inferior capacities as a 
 strategist out of consideration, Beauregard was not in bodily 
 condition for an energetic exercise of the chief command, 
 being just convalescent from a severe two months' illness. 
 
 Another cause appears from the admission of Beaure- 
 gard in his report that "officers, non-commissioned offi- 
 cers and men abandoned their colors early in the first day 
 to pillage the captured encampments," and that "others 
 retired shamefully from the field on both days, while the 
 thunder of cannon and the roar and rattle of musketry 
 told them that their brothers were being slaughtered by 
 the fresh legions of the enemy." The General claimed, on 
 a later occasion, that the casualties on the first day and 
 the admitted skulking of a portion of his command had 
 reduced his fighting strength to twenty thousand on the 
 second day, and this number may be accepted as correct. 
 General Braxton Bragg complained as strongly of the 
 straggling and plundering of his men, and ascribes to the 
 weakness and confusion caused by it the failure to finish 
 the battle on the first day.
 
 262 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 Shiloh was one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War. 
 According to the official publications, Grant lost 1437 
 killed, 5679 wounded, and 2934 missing; Buell, 236 killed, 
 1816 wounded, and 88 missing making a total of 1673 
 killed, 7495 wounded, and 3022 missing while the rebel 
 loss was 1728 killed, 8012 wounded, and 957 missing. 
 Beauregard overestimated the total Federal loss at 20,000. 
 As shown by some of my quotations, Beauregard 's report 
 had the fault of extravagant language, but it was far 
 superior to Grant's in giving an intelligible account of the 
 two days ' fighting. In fact, Grant 's is about as poor a pro- 
 duction as the Rebellion brought forth in that line on the 
 Northern side, and one cannot peruse it without wondering 
 that the author of such a miserable screed ever attained 
 the prominence he did.
 
 CHAPTER XVH 
 
 THE SIEGE OF CORINTH. 1862 
 
 boat on which I had secured passage for Cairo 
 JL started down the river some hours after dark, and we 
 reached our destination the following noon. I rose early in 
 the morning and managed to write up my account of the 
 battle completely before arriving, so that I felt free to 
 rest and enjoy myself for two or three days, as far as it 
 was possible, in the small, struggling, rough place which 
 the town at the confluence of the Ohio and Mississippi 
 Rivers then was. A pleasant surprise awaited me at the 
 St. Charles Hotel, where I took quarters. I discovered 
 among the guests A. D. Richardson, whom I had not seen 
 since our parting at Denver in 1859. He had gone there 
 again the following year to engage in newspaper work and 
 "town-site speculations," but, upon the outbreak of the 
 Rebellion, had returned east to take the field as a war 
 correspondent. He shared rooms with three colleagues, 
 to whom he introduced me, and with whom I have kept 
 up a pleasant and intimate acquaintance ever since. One 
 of them was Thomas W. Knox, who had started a weekly 
 paper with Richardson in the town of Golden City that 
 had sprung up at the very point on Clear Creek where 
 Greeley, Richardson, and I crossed. Knox, after the war, 
 became a professional traveller and gatherer of material 
 in various countries for books for young .people, which 
 brought him moderate fame and fortune. Another was 
 Junius Henri Browne, the well-known writer, with whom 
 my relations became closest; and the fourth, Richard T. 
 Colburn, who, at the end of the war, followed for many 
 
 263
 
 264 HENKY VILLARD [1862 
 
 years the well-paid occupation of editor of the publica- 
 tions of banking firms and railroad companies. The four 
 associates had been on duty in Missouri, and were then 
 watching the northern offensive operations on the Missis- 
 sippi under General Pope. All proved very congenial 
 companions, and I enjoyed my two days with them thor- 
 oughly. I then felt it my duty to go back to Pittsburg 
 Landing, upon learning from a St. Louis paper that Gen- 
 eral Halleck would leave on April 10 for the front, to as- 
 sume chief direction of the operations of Buell's and 
 Grant's armies in person. After a pleasant trip on a 
 quartermaster's boat, I found myself again with the army 
 on the evening of April 11, my twenty-seventh birthday, 1 
 which I celebrated, however, only in thought. I was made 
 welcome by Chief-Quartermaster Gamage of McCook's 
 division, and enjoyed his generous hospitality all through 
 the operations against Corinth. General Halleck arrived 
 on the same day with a large staff on a fine Mississippi 
 steamboat. 
 
 The appearance of the new General-in-chief naturally ex- 
 cited much anxious curiosity among the commanders under 
 him, and the development of his purposes was awaited with 
 apprehensive expectation. It was generally supposed that 
 he would deal vigorously with the many cases of incom- 
 petency and cowardice of officers, from major-generals 
 down, that the battle had brought out. But he confined 
 himself to a very limited weeding out among field and 
 line officers. He perceived, however, at once the great 
 demoralization in which the conflict had left Grant's com- 
 mand, and took drastic measures to improve its condi- 
 tion. On April 14, he issued the following order to 
 General Grant: 
 
 Immediate and active measures must be taken to put your com- 
 mand in condition to resist another attack by the enemy. Fractions 
 of batteries will be united temporarily under competent officers, 
 
 1 Really the day before, April 10. See page 1.
 
 1862] HALLECK DISTRUSTS GRANT 265 
 
 supplied with ammunition and placed in position for active service. 
 Divisions and brigades should, where necessary, be reorganized and 
 put in position, and all stragglers returned to their companies and 
 regiments. Your army is not now in condition to resist an attack. 
 It must be made so without delay. Staff officers must be sent out 
 to obtain returns from division commanders and assist in supplying 
 all deficiencies. 
 
 When it is considered that Halleek found occasion to 
 issue such an order a whole week after the end of the 
 battle, it must be admitted that the sharp criticism and 
 direct reprimand it contained were well deserved. It 
 constitutes a formal record, never questioned, of the fact, 
 confirmed by Grant's subsequent career, that, while he was 
 a fighting strategist of the highest order, he was not strong 
 either as a disciplinarian or as an organizer. The serious 
 trouble between Halleek and Grant after the fall of Fort 
 Donelson will be remembered. This order naturally pro- 
 duced another great strain in their relations. Halleek 
 manifested his distrust of Grant's capacity as a com- 
 mander soon afterwards in another striking way, to which 
 I shall refer directly. That the order and what happened 
 subsequently did not move General Grant to ask to be 
 relieved from command, may seem surprising, but the 
 Union cause was saved a second time from that misfortune. 
 
 Halleek was conscious that the resumption of the offen- 
 sive against the enemy at the earliest possible moment was 
 an absolute necessity. Like Grant, he overestimated the 
 rebel strength; and what with this and the condition of 
 Grant's troops, he determined to strengthen himself from 
 every available quarter, and therefore ordered the whole 
 force of General Pope, which was waiting for orders, to 
 embark on boats on the Mississippi after its great success 
 at New Madrid, as well as two divisions from Missouri, to 
 Pittsburg, and, by April 20, he had a great army of fully 
 one hundred thousand men under his immediate orders. 
 By a special field order, the Army of the Tennessee was 
 placed under the orders of General George H. Thomas
 
 2G6 HENEY VILLARD [1862 
 
 (whose division was at the same time detached from the 
 Army of the Ohio and made part of his new command), 
 and constituted the right wing; the Army of the Ohio, 
 under General Buell, the centre; and the Army of the 
 Mississippi, under General Pope, the left wing. General 
 Grant was relieved from command of the Army of the 
 Tennessee, and made second in command of the grand 
 army under Halleck. As we shall see, this really meant 
 that Halleck had no use for him. 
 
 It continued to rain ail through April, so that the roads 
 were reduced to the worst possible condition. Bad enough 
 before the battle, they now consisted of sticky mire so 
 deep that no artillery or loaded wagons could be moved 
 over them. They were only ordinary dirt roads, with no- 
 thing but the natural beds of clayish earth. Provisions, 
 forage, and ammunition had to be carried to the camps 
 on horses and mules. Thousands of men were therefore 
 detailed to improve the existing roads by corduroying, 
 ditching, and bridging swampy bottoms and streams, and, 
 where they had become impassable, to make new approaches 
 from Pittsburg Landing to the several camps. A vast 
 amount of work of this kind was accomplished during the 
 three weeks following the battle. The rainfall and the 
 condition of the ground brought great discomfort to all 
 in the camps. It was almost impossible to get dry and keep 
 so. The result was a great deal of sickness, mainly in the 
 form of dysentery. I was told by medical officers that 
 nearly half of the officers and men had it. I had my 
 share of the hardships, but fortunately kept well. Owing 
 to the bad weather and the difficulty of locomotion, those 
 days were very dull ones. There was no news to gather, 
 and all I could do to kill time was to read newspapers and 
 make visits to the army and division headquarters and 
 to the Landing. 
 
 By the end of April, the disintegrating effect of the great 
 fight had been repaired, the lost and destroyed equip- 
 ments and armaments replaced, and the efficiency of the 
 troops considerably increased by constant drilling and
 
 1862] HALLECK OVERESTIMATES ENEMY 267 
 
 strict enforcement of discipline. Still, while there was 
 a decided gain in the latter respect, Halleck's personal 
 observation of the sad plight in which the rebel onslaught 
 had left the Army of the Tennessee, made him distrust 
 the reliability of his forces for either offence or de- 
 fence. Hence when, for sanitary, strategic, and political 
 reasons, a forward change of position could no longer be 
 put off, he deemed it his duty to act with the utmost cau- 
 tion in approaching the rebel army, which he assumed to 
 be not much, if at all, inferior in numbers to his own. 
 This belief was based on an intercepted despatch from 
 Beauregard to the Richmond War Department, dated Cor- 
 inth, April 9, in which he stated his effective strength on 
 that day to be thirty-five thousand, which General Van 
 Dorn's command, on the way from Arkansas to join him, 
 wouM raise to fifty thousand, and urgently asked for 
 reinforcements, as he had eighty-five thousand Federals 
 to confront. Later information received from Halleck 
 led him to believe that Beauregard 's appeal for help was 
 being largely responded to. This curious tendency always 
 to overestimate the enemy, that seemed to afflict, like an 
 epidemic mental disease, most Union leaders, now also 
 infected Halleck. He communicated his fears to Assistant 
 Secretary of War Thomas A. Scott, who had arrived with 
 General Pope, and who took it upon himself to recom- 
 mend, as early as May 6, to the War Department to send, 
 in view of the presumed large reinforcements that were 
 reaching Beauregard, forty to fifty thousand more men 
 to Halleck from the East. As this was not done, he re- 
 peated his recommendation several times, and finally in- 
 duced Governor Morton of Indiana to urge the same 
 measure strongly upon the Government. This led to a 
 characteristic pathetic remonstrance from President Lin- 
 coln to Halleck, as follows : 
 
 MAT 24, 1862. Several dispatches from Assistant Secretary Scott 
 and one from Governor Morton, asking for reinforcements for you, 
 have been received. I beg you to be assured we do the best we can.
 
 268 HENRY VILLAED [1862 
 
 I mean to cast no blame when I tell you each of our commanders 
 along our line from Richmond to Corinth supposes himself to be 
 confronted by numbers superior to his own. 
 
 My dear General, I feel justified in relying very much on you. I 
 believe you and the brave officers and men with you can and will 
 get the victory at Corinth.- 
 
 Halleck replied disingenuously on the next day: 
 
 I have asked for no reinforcements, but only whether any were 
 to be sent to me. If any were to be sent, I would wait for them ; if 
 not, I would venture an attack. We are now in immediate pres- 
 ence of the enemy, and the battle may occur at any moment I 
 have every confidence that we shall succeed, but dislike to run any 
 risk, and therefore have waited to ascertain if any more troops can 
 be hoped for. 
 
 This was, of course, tantamount to saying : ' ' I ought to 
 have more troops, but, if I do not get them, the responsi- 
 bility will not be with me." And yet Beauregard took 
 only 47,000 men away with him from Corinth, according 
 to his official report to his War Department, the correctness 
 of which figure cannot be doubted, while Halleck attributed 
 to him from 85,000 to 120,000, as against 90,000 and 100,000 
 (or about twice as many as his antagonist) under his own 
 orders. Accordingly, the advance became characterized 
 by a determination to avoid risks as much as possible, by 
 the most vigilant measures against hostile surprises, by 
 a deliberate slowness of movement, and by the most care- 
 ful selection and protection of the positions successively 
 reached. Halleck was subsequently subjected to a great 
 deal of severe criticism and even ridicule for his deliberate- 
 ness in moving upon the enemy. But, after properly weigh- 
 ing all the reasons for his course, it is, in my judgment, 
 only just to admit that it involved but little loss of time, 
 and afforded absolute assurance against a repetition of 
 the mishap of April 6. 
 
 A first forward movement along the whole line began
 
 1862] ADVANCE ON COEINTH 269 
 
 on April 29. It brought the entire army about three miles 
 nearer to Corinth that is, to within an average distance of 
 only twelve miles from the place. Short as the distance 
 was, it required from four to six days to get over the in- 
 tervening ground. New lines of communication had to be 
 created, including the construction of two bridges over Lick 
 Creek. I saw only the work of this kind done by the Army 
 of the Ohio, but can testify to its extreme laboriousness 
 and to the cheerful spirit with which officers and men ac- 
 complished it. Great was the vexation when an extra-heavy 
 downpour on May 3 and 4 made all the water-courses rise, 
 so as to again destroy much of the result of their efforts. 
 The next onward change of location was made on May 7. 
 Rain ceased the day before, and was followed by beautiful, 
 warm, and clear weather, which rapidly dried the ground 
 and roads, and rendered the task of the army much easier. 
 The effect, too, was felt in the rapid reduction of the sick- 
 list and a general revival of spirit and increase of energy. 
 The second advance involved as much road-making as the 
 first. By way of further precaution, in view of the greater 
 nearness to the enemy, the whole front was strengthened, 
 under orders from the Commander-in-chief, by abatis, 
 barricades, rifle-pits, and breastworks. Another advance 
 was ordered and accomplished on the 17th and 18th. The 
 favorable weather reduced the necessary road- and bridge- 
 building, but more work was devoted to the construction 
 of field defences. Indeed, the army was made secure in 
 regularly fortified camps. 
 
 The improved condition of the roads tempted me to ex- 
 tend the range of my observation beyond the lines of the 
 Army of the Ohio. But, in order to do this, a general pass 
 from the Commander-in-chief was indispensable, as other- 
 wise I should have had to risk arrest and punishment 
 within the lines of the other two armies. I rode twice to 
 Halleck's headquarters to obtain such a pass, but met with 
 a rebuff each time. Halleck considered newspaper cor- 
 respondents with the armies as more dangerous than the
 
 270 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 enemy, and persistently refused to give them any coun- 
 tenance. Just then, too, he was, as I was told by one of 
 his staff (a Washington acquaintance), very much irritated 
 against the press generally by the tendency of the con- 
 troversy waged in it over the battle of Shiloh. Nothing 
 daunted by my failure, I bethought myself of the "second 
 in chief command" that is, of General Grant and, mak- 
 ing my way to his camp, readily succeeded in obtaining the 
 desired passe-partout from his chief of staff, Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Rawlins. I observed that a marked stillness pre- 
 vailed at Grant's headquarters, contrasting greatly with 
 the bustle perceivable about it before Halleck's advent. 
 The fact was, that the "second in command" was confined 
 to a very nominal part. His role during the "siege" was, 
 indeed, that of a mere dummy upon a stage a show, but 
 not a substance. As I ascertained on this and subsequent 
 visits, General Grant's duties were confined to receiving 
 orders from General Halleck for General Thomas, and to 
 transmitting them to him. There was hardly any personal 
 intercourse between the two headquarters. Of course, this 
 embarrassing position was most galling to the victor of 
 Fort Donelson and his whole staff. While Grant said 
 nothing, his staff gave vent to their feelings very freely 
 and vigorously. Grant did not gratify his rival by retiring 
 from the field Halleck's real object, according to Grant's 
 military household but wisely bore the humiliation with 
 patience. 
 
 The army was not occupied with pick, shovel, and axe 
 alone. Simultaneously with the first advance, an expedi- 
 tion was sent out under General Wallace to destroy the 
 Memphis & Charleston Railroad west of Corinth, in the 
 neighborhood of Purdy, which did not, however, accomplish 
 much. Nearly one-fifth of the troops always performed 
 grand-guard and picket duties. Reconnoissances more or 
 less in force were also regularly made. After the second 
 advance, we began to feel the enemy, and picket-firing and 
 outpost skirmishes became more and more frequent. The
 
 1862] ADVANCE ON CORINTH 271 
 
 first important encounter took place on May 9 between 
 General Paine 's division of Pope's army on the extreme 
 left, near the village of Farmington, just south of the Mis- 
 sissippi line. Paine was vigorously attacked by a strong 
 force and compelled to fall back, after several hours ' fight- 
 ing, from his advanced position upon Pope's main line. 
 The same day the rebels made an unsuccessful attempt to 
 capture the advance guard of General McCook in the centre. 
 The advance on May 17 resulted in quite a lively affair 
 between General Sherman and the rebels in front of him. 
 Sherman easily pushed them back. There was a great deal 
 of powder burned in these several collisions, but, owing to 
 the thickly wooded character of the country, the musketry 
 fire was not very effective. The total casualties on our side 
 did not exceed a few hundred, and the rebel loss was prob- 
 ably no greater. Few prisoners were taken by either side. 
 Under the protection of my general pass within the lines, 
 I made it my object to visit successively the different camps 
 of the Armies of the Tennessee and Mississippi. The region 
 through which the Federal encampments extended was very 
 unattractive and monotonous. Not the least bit of pictur- 
 esque scenery was to be found within the whole length and 
 breadth of it. The few villages within it, too, consisted of 
 a score or so of ordinary small frame or log houses, mostly 
 deserted by the inhabitants and in wretched condition. 
 My daily rides were, therefore, not very exhilarating, and 
 were often made disagreeable owing to the fact that I knew 
 nobody in Pope's army but the General himself, and only 
 two persons in the Army of the Tennessee, viz., Generals 
 Sherman and Lew Wallace, the latter having been a senator 
 in the Indiana Legislature when I attended that body in 
 the winter of 1858-9. '( Since the war, he has attained fame 
 and fortune as a novel-writer.) I was obliged to introduce 
 myself to everybody, and did not always meet with a 
 friendly reception. The Federal front represented a length 
 of nearly twelve miles, and twice it happened to me that 
 I could not find my way back to my quarters before dark,
 
 272 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 and had to ask for, and receive, very scant hospitality in 
 the camps where I found myself at nightfall. General 
 Sherman's prejudice against army correspondents had been 
 intensified, owing to the severe press criticisms based upon 
 the published reports that he and his command had been 
 utterly surprised at Shiloh, and he received me rather 
 gruffly. Gen. Lew Wallace was also under a cloud, owing 
 to his failure to get his division up to the front in the first 
 day's battle. He was evidently very much pleased with 
 my call, in the expectation, as he did not hesitate to intimate 
 broadly, that I would publish what he had to say in his 
 own defence. Wallace had the kindness to send an aide- 
 de-camp with me to introduce me to Generals McClernand 
 and Hurlbut, his fellow division commanders, who also re- 
 ceived me very graciously, and who likewise complained a 
 good deal of the misrepresentation by the press of their 
 part in the battle. Both claimed that they and their troops 
 fought determinedly all day against overwhelming odds. 
 Both belonged to the class of "political" generals, and 
 sought glory as much through army correspondents as by 
 feats of war if not more. Nevertheless, they established 
 a fair record as commanders in the later campaigns. 
 
 I made bold to recall myself to General Pope as one of 
 the party accompanying President Lincoln from Spring- 
 field, and was at once made very welcome at his head- 
 quarters, which I visited frequently. He was, no doubt, an 
 able man and good soldier, but, whether from accidental 
 mistakes or a natural incapacity to lead a large force, his 
 performances as an independent commander never equalled 
 his promises. He had two very marked failings first, he 
 talked too much of himself, of what -he could do and of 
 what ought to be done; and, secondly, ne indulged, con- 
 trary to good discipline and all propriety, in very free 
 comments upon his superiors and fellow-commanders. 
 Through Pope I also made the acquaintance of General 
 Rosecrans, then a division commander in the Army of the 
 Mississippi. He was, outside of the Army of the Ohio, the
 
 1862] FIRST TALK WITH GRANT 273 
 
 most affable, frank, and genial general that I had met 
 a very prize, indeed, for an eager news-gatherer. He in- 
 vited me to his camp so urgently that I grew suspicious, 
 and thought that he cared more for my pen than my per- 
 son. My subsequent experience proved that I had judged 
 him correctly. 
 
 I had seen General Grant a number of times after the 
 battle, but never had a chance to talk with him before 
 the middle of May. Between that time and the end of the 
 siege, however, I conversed with him on three occasions 
 twice at his own field-headquarters, and once in passing 
 him accidentally on the main road to Corinth. There was 
 certainly nothing in his outward appearance or in his per- 
 sonal ways or conversation to indicate the great military 
 qualities he possessed. Firmness seemed to me about the 
 only characteristic expressed in his features. Otherwise, 
 he was a very plain, unpretentious, unimposing person, 
 easily approached, reticent as a rule, and yet showing at 
 times a fondness for a chat about all sorts of things. His 
 ordinary exterior, however, made it as difficult for me as 
 in the case of Abraham Lincoln to persuade myself that he 
 was destined to be one of the greatest arbiters of human 
 fortunes. 
 
 All officers (excepting army commanders) and men were 
 under strict orders not to pass beyond the encampments 
 of their organizations while in front of the enemy. The 
 effect naturally was that, at any given point of our line, 
 they could not know what was going on along the rest of 
 it. We newspaper correspondents, who had the freedom, 
 so to speak, of the whole army, were generally better in- 
 formed as to current incidents than even officers as high 
 in rank as division commanders. As collectors and dis- 
 tributors of news we gradually became quite popular. We 
 were the more willing to gratify the general curiosity of 
 the rank and file on our tours through the camps as we 
 could not make use of our knowledge for professional 
 purposes, for our permits to remain with and circulate 
 
 18
 
 274 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 among the armies had been given on the express pledge 
 on our part not to write anything to our papers, before the 
 occurrence of decisive events, about the number, condition, 
 location, and doings of our troops. I observed this injunc- 
 tion religiously, and hence felt all those weeks as if off 
 duty. I really had a very easy time, and was very well 
 taken care of by my friend, the quartermaster of McCook's 
 division. I shared a large tent with his chief clerk, and was 
 favored with a comfortable camp-bed and very passable 
 meals. A runaway slave a mulatto waited on me and 
 attended to my horse. Still, I grew tired of my idleness, 
 and rejoiced when events before Corinth reached a culmina- 
 tion. This came much earlier than was expected by the 
 Federal commanders, and in a surprising form. 
 
 What was destined to be the last advance of the Union 
 line took place on May 28 and 29. It was very strongly op- 
 posed by rebel skirmishers and outposts, but the enemy was 
 driven back. Later in the day, two attempts were made to 
 regain the lost ground. The new move brought the fronts 
 of Pope's and Buell's lines to the edge of a clearing not 
 more than an average of half a mile from Corinth, and in 
 plain view of the enemy's fortifications covering the town, 
 which appeared to be strong and extensive. Our left, with 
 Sherman's division in advance, did not reach clear ground 
 and did not discover the hostile defences. The 29th was 
 enlivened by a roaring cannonade on the Union side from 
 the heavy Parrott guns that had been brought to the front 
 in anticipation of a regular siege. Pope had planted a bat- 
 tery of four thirty-pounders during the night, from which 
 an enfilading fire was opened in the morning upon the near- 
 est rebel work. As was afterwards ascertained, the fire 
 killed and wounded eighty men and a hundred horses, and 
 destroyed a locomotive and its crew. Sherman also opened 
 with Parrott twenty-pounders upon a building occupied 
 by a rebel outpost, and quickly demolished it. I was with 
 General McCook all day on the 29th. We could see a good 
 portion of the rebel works, but no signs of activity were
 
 1862] CORINTH EVACUATED 275 
 
 observable. We heard, however, very distinctly the inces- 
 sant movement of railroad trains. 
 
 The final chapter of the "siege" forms a curious tale, 
 partaking more of the ludicrous than of the horrors of 
 war. In some way the impression prevailed at all the head- 
 quarters that the enemy was about to strike a great blow. 
 Halleck issued an order enjoining the greatest caution in 
 feeling the enemy. Sherman was even told, if the risk in 
 holding his new position was too great, to fall back. The 
 apprehension of a rebel attack en masse grew stronger in 
 the course of the 29th. The continuous rolling of trains was 
 construed as meaning a concentration of forces at certain 
 points for that purpose. With the night, the anxiety in- 
 creased, and none of the generals and their staffs on the 
 front line allowed themselves any sleep, and I shared the 
 vigil in McCook's camp. It was all an illusion that was not 
 dispelled till long after midnight. General Halleck issued 
 an order an hour or two after midnight to Buell and Thomas 
 as follows : ' ' There is every indication that the enemy will 
 attack our left this morning, as troops have been moving in 
 that direction for some time. It may be well to make 
 preparations to send as many of the reserves as can be 
 spared in that direction." This order may or may not 
 have been the reflex of the following report from Pope to 
 Halleck, dated May 30, 1:20 A.M.: "The enemy is reen- 
 forcing heavily, by trains, in my front and on my left. 
 The cars are running constantly, and the cheering is im- 
 mense every time they unload in front of me. I have no 
 doubt, from all appearances, that I shall be attacked in 
 heavy force at daylight." 
 
 General Halleck's feelings may He imagined when at 6 
 A.M. this unexpected revelation reached him from the same 
 source : ' ' All very quiet since 4 o 'clock. Twenty-six trains 
 left during the night. A succession of loud explosions fol- 
 lowed by dense black smoke in clouds. Everything in- 
 dicates evacuation and retreat." Up to that moment, no- 
 body in command seemed to have correctly interpreted the
 
 276 HENRY VILLAKD [1862 
 
 plain signs of the real rebel purpose. Sherman, indeed, 
 early in the morning, asked the general headquarters ' ' how 
 they explained the frequent explosions in Corinth during 
 the night." I need not describe the sensations of our gen- 
 erals when the mortifying truth fully dawned upon them 
 that Beauregard had played most successfully the trick of 
 making a bold offensive show, while really bent upon flight. 
 
 The rebel works were almost simultaneously occupied by 
 the picket lines of Pope's and McCook's, Nelson's and Sher- 
 man's divisions. A dispute afterward arose as to whom 
 really belonged the honor of having been the first to enter 
 them. McCook and Nelson felt chagrined that Halleck, in 
 his first reports, awarded it to Pope, and later made official 
 reclamation, to which the General-in-chief had, however, 
 the conclusive answer that he had not referred to them be- 
 cause their immediate superior had not reported the facts 
 in their case to him. I lost no time myself in riding into 
 Corinth, and I believe I reached the main street practically 
 the only one shortly after 7 A.M. The appearance of the 
 town badly belied its classic name. The principal thor- 
 oughfare was lined on both sides, for say a quarter of a 
 mile, with plain frame structures of one or two stories, 
 interspersed with a few brick buildings and one of stone. 
 The private residences, mostly of wood, small and of very 
 simple style, were scattered about. Of the twelve to fif- 
 teen hundred or so inhabitants, only a few remained. A 
 number of the buildings were reduced to ashes. The rebels 
 had fired only those that contained Confederate supplies 
 which could not be carried away, but the flames had spread 
 and consumed others. The explosions we had heard arose 
 from abandoned ammunition reached by the fire. The 
 evacuation and destruction had been effected so completely 
 that no spoils of any kind were found. A small number of 
 rebel wounded were found about the town and in the works. 
 
 The latter were neither as extensive nor as elaborate 
 as we had supposed them to be. There was an outer and an 
 inner line, the former consisting of rifle-pits with breast-
 
 1862] BEAUREGARD'S REPORT 277 
 
 works behind them, the latter of regular field bastions with 
 high parapets, ditches, curtains, and embrasures for artil- 
 lery. Still, the works afforded proof that it must have been 
 Beauregard's original intention to make a firm stand against 
 Halleck. He does not directly admit this in his official 
 utterances, but it can be read between the lines. He says 
 substantially, in the opening paragraph of his report, dated 
 Tupelo, Miss., June 13 : 
 
 The purposes and ends for which I had occupied and held Cor- 
 inth having been mainly accomplished by the last of May, and, by 
 the 25th of that month, having ascertained definitely that the enemy 
 had received large accessions to his already superior force while 
 ours had been reduced day by day by disease, resulting from bad 
 water and inferior food, I felt it clearly my duty to evacuate that 
 position without delay. I was further induced to this step by the 
 fact that the enemy had declined my offer of battle twice made him 
 outside of my intrenched lines, and sedulously avoided the separa- 
 tion of his corps, which he advanced with uncommon caution, 
 under cover of heavy guns and strong intrenchments, constructed 
 with unusual labor and with singular delay, considering his strength 
 and our relative inferiority in numbers. 
 
 The cheap braggadocio of this alleged challenge to his 
 enemy to combat in mediaeval style seems to have impressed 
 the rebel Secretary of War and Jefferson Davis more than 
 his silly complaint of Halleck 's extreme caution. His su- 
 periors no doubt drew from these effusions the just con- 
 clusion that he was an arrant humbug, and soon afterward 
 relieved him from the chief command in the West. It 
 must be admitted, however, in face of the facts, that another 
 passage in his report was not unjustified, to wit: "It was 
 then [the morning of May 30th] that the enemy, to his sur- 
 prise, became satisfied that a large army, approached and 
 invested with such extraordinary preparations, expenses, 
 labor and timidity, had disappeared from his front with all 
 its munitions and heavy guns." 
 
 My recollection is very distinct that the singular ending
 
 278 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 of the Corinth campaign was a general disappointment to 
 the Union side, from Halleck down. I do not hesitate to 
 say that the latter did not look for the escape of Beauregard 
 from his clutches without a fight. There is absolutely no 
 evidence of such an expectation in his official despatches 
 and reports. I am persuaded, too, that, before it actually 
 happened, such a contingency would have been pronounced 
 a misfortune to the loyal cause. Still, it was natural that, 
 after the event had occurred, Halleck should make the most 
 of the "bloodless victory" in manoeuvring his adversary 
 out of so strong a position, chosen and carefully prepared 
 for defence by himself, with forfeiture of the only direct 
 railroad line of communication between the east and west 
 of the Confederacy, exposure of the cotton States to in- 
 vasion, and abandonment of the middle Mississippi Valley. 
 Nor is it surprising that Halleck 's claim to credit for this 
 achievement was, at the time, admitted both by the Gov- 
 ernment and by the loyal public. Before the end of 1862, 
 the rebel leaders succeeded, however, as we shall see, in 
 largely neutralizing these consequences by a new aggressive 
 campaign in Tennessee and Kentucky, in the light of which 
 their abandonment of Corinth was proved to have been 
 fortunate. 
 
 There was no time lost in the pursuit of the vanquished 
 enemy. General Pope, being nearest to the line of retreat, 
 naturally took the lead in it. The task was most arduous, 
 as the roads were narrow and bad, led through a very 
 swampy country, and were obstructed by felled trees and 
 burning bridges. The Union cavalry first caught sight of 
 the rebel rear-guard about eight miles south of Corinth, and 
 kept close at their heels for several days. The enemy was 
 also followed by several columns of infantry and artillery, 
 moving over different roads, commanded by General Rose- 
 crans, under the direction of General Pope. Owing to the 
 natural difficulties, the pursuers accomplished only short 
 distances from day to day, and though they followed the 
 enemy closely, they could not get within striking distance.
 
 1862] A MYTHICAL ROUT 279 
 
 On June 4, Rosecrans felt the rebels strongly about two 
 miles north of Baldwin (thirty miles south of Corinth on 
 the Mobile & Ohio Road). He found them in great force 
 and determined to resist his advance. He therefore sent to 
 Pope, his immediate superior, for reinforcements. Pope not 
 only responded, but called on Halleck for more help, where- 
 upon the latter ordered Buell with two divisions to join 
 him. Buell did so, and assumed command as the senior 
 major-general. He issued an order of battle for the 8th, 
 but the same day it turned out that the enemy had re- 
 treated further south. Beauregard had, indeed, halted at 
 Baldwin with most of his army, but decided to fall back 
 twenty miles further to Tupelo. Under Halleck 's order, 
 no further pursuit was attempted. 
 
 Before closing this chapter, I must refer to what was 
 perhaps the strangest incident of the Corinth campaign. 
 On June 4, Halleck telegraphed to Secretary Stanton: 
 
 General Pope with 40,000 is thirty miles south of Corinth, push- 
 ing the enemy hard. He already reports 10,000 prisoners and 
 deserters from the enemy and 15,000 stands of arms captured. 
 Thousands of the enemy are throwing away their arms. A farmer 
 says that when Beauregard learned that Colonel Elliott had cut the 
 railroad on his line of retreat, he became frantic and told his men 
 to save themselves as best they could. We have captured nine 
 locomotives and a number of cars. The result is all I could possi- 
 bly desire. 
 
 Our impulsive American Carnot replied: "Your glorious 
 dispatch has just been received, and I have sent it into 
 every State. The whole land will soon ring with applause 
 at the achievement of your gallant army and its able and 
 victorious commander." The land was, indeed, soon ring- 
 ing with patriotic outbursts, as the governors of the loyal 
 States lost no time in congratulating their people on the 
 great reported success and having national salutes fired in 
 its honor.
 
 280 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 Again, on June 9, Halleck telegraphed to Stanton: 
 
 General Pope estimates rebel loss from casualties, prisoners and 
 desertion at over 20,000, and General Buell at between 20,000 and 
 30,000. An Englishman employed in the Confederate commissary 
 department says they had 120,000 men in Corinth, and that now 
 they cannot muster more than 80,000. 
 
 Some days later, the Northern press published a state- 
 ment from Beauregard, printed in the Richmond papers, 
 that the dispatch first quoted from Halleck to Stanton 
 "contained almost as many lies as lines," and this charge 
 is also made in his official report. Stanton having called 
 Halleck 's attention to this by wire, the latter replied: 
 "In accordance with your instructions, I telegraph to you 
 daily what information I receive of events in this depart- 
 ment, stating whether official or unofficial, and, if official, 
 giving the authority. In regard to the number of prisoners 
 and arms taken, I telegraphed the exact language of Gen- 
 eral Pope. If it was erroneous, the responsibility is his, not 
 mine. ' ' 
 
 The simple truth was, that Pope's captures of men and 
 arms were only about one-tenth of the number he had re- 
 ported to Halleck. The whole army was amazed when the 
 newspapers arrived with the correspondence between Stan- 
 ton and Halleck, and the enthusiastic popular responses it 
 had provoked. I and all knew that a gross deception had 
 been practised. In due time, the Northern press broke out 
 in furious indignation against Pope, who was considered 
 responsible for it. Pope did not defend himself. Singular 
 to relate, it was only in July, 1865, three months after Lee 's 
 surrender at Appomattox, that Pope addressed a letter to 
 Halleck calling attention to the subject, disclaiming the 
 authorship of the false report, and asking to have his 
 record set right. Halleck excused himself from complying 
 with the request, on the ground that his papers had been 
 boxed up, as he was about to start for California to take
 
 1862] POPE VERSUS HALLECK 281 
 
 command on the Pacific Coast. Pope thereupon prepared 
 a long letter for publication, in which he denied his responsi- 
 bility for the report, and criticised Halleck very severely 
 for practically refusing him the satisfaction to which he 
 was entitled. The letter appeared in print and attracted 
 a good deal of attention. I do not remember what Halleck 
 did regarding it.
 
 CHAPTER XVHI 
 
 BUELL'S KETREAT TO THE OHIO. 1862 
 
 /GENERAL McCOOK'S division was ordered to occupy 
 vJT Corinth, and his headquarters were moved within the 
 town limits. For ten days after the evacuation, there was 
 great uncertainty as to the future operations of the army, 
 and, after describing the closing scenes of the "siege," idle- 
 ness was again my lot. It then became known, however, 
 that General Halleck had determined, with the approval 
 of the Washington authorities, to break up the grand army 
 united under his command. The Army of the Ohio, under 
 Buell, was to enter upon a new campaign through northern 
 Alabama and southeastern Tennessee to East Tennessee, 
 to carry out the long-deferred plan of freeing the loyalists 
 in the latter region from rebel oppression and persecution. 
 The Armies of the Tennessee and Mississippi, under Grant 
 and Pope, were to be employed in holding western Ten- 
 nessee and northern Mississippi and the adjacent portion 
 of Alabama, and in offensive operations down and west of 
 the Mississippi. In moving eastwardly, Buell 's men were 
 to put the Memphis & Charleston Railroad east of Corinth 
 in running order, while the work of repairing the line 
 west of that point was to be undertaken by Grant's troops. 
 The destruction wrought upon it by the rebels between 
 Corinth and Memphis was not very great, as they had to 
 use it up to the evacuation. I received word as early as 
 June 8, if I remember aright, that a construction train that 
 had worked its way from Memphis, which only two days 
 before had fallen into the hands of the Unionists, would 
 reach Corinth and start back the same day. I asked and 
 received permission to go on it. I longed for a change 
 
 282
 
 1862] AT MEMPHIS 283 
 
 from the monotony of camp life, and especially from the 
 sameness of camp fare, to which I had been subjected for 
 two months. Moreover, the winter clothes which I still 
 was obliged to wear for want of something more suitable, 
 were no longer endurable in the hot weather that had pre- 
 vailed for a fortnight, and I hoped to be able to buy a 
 summer outfit in the city. 
 
 The construction train, consisting of half a dozen freight 
 and flat cars with an ancient locomotive of very shabby and 
 decrepit appearance, arrived towards evening, and, for 
 the sake of greater safety, its return was postponed till the 
 next morning. I was one of a very motley crowd of passen- 
 gers, numbering several hundred, and consisting of a strong 
 guard, well and sick officers of all ranks, and wounded and 
 ill soldiers. There were no seats, and we all squatted on 
 the floors of the cars, with none too much elbow-room for 
 any of us. We proceeded very slowly from caution, with 
 reference both to the hastily repaired trestles and bridges 
 and to the strong inclination of our engine to refuse to do 
 service. We spent eleven hours in making the distance of 
 only ninety-three miles, thus having plenty of time to ob- 
 serve the region traversed. It seemed even more forbidding 
 than the stretch between Pittsburg and Corinth. Like the 
 rest of my fellow-passengers, I arrived in a very tired, stiff- 
 limbed, dust-covered, and hungry condition, and felt much 
 relieved when I found that the Gayoso House, the principal 
 hostelry of the city, was open for guests. I was pleasantly 
 surprised to discover on the hotel register the names of the 
 four colleagues whom I had met at Cairo. They had ar- 
 rived the day before from that place. We had a very joy- 
 ous time together that evening and during the rest of my 
 stay. 
 
 Memphis was even then a fine city of about 25,000 inhabi- 
 tants. The site rises amphitheatrically from the river, from 
 which the city presents an imposing aspect. The buildings 
 on the business streets and the principal private residences 
 were of brick and stone, indicating enterprise and thrift.
 
 284 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 The former stood in many solid blocks containing whole- 
 sale and retail stores, banks, and offices of every kind. A 
 proper number of the private dwellings were large and 
 elegant abodes of wealth. "While a good many of the stores 
 and offices were closed, there was a great deal of life in the 
 streets, and one could not have imagined from their ap- 
 pearance that the place had just been the scene of actual 
 war. There seemed to be as many whites as negroes moving 
 about, and among them hundreds of Union army and navy 
 officers and soldiers and sailors. They formed an entirely 
 peaceful picture, and, indeed, I saw no signs of hostile feel- 
 ing of any kind during my stay. There was a good deal 
 of suppressed loyalty which showed itself very soon to a 
 surprising extent, and very much facilitated the govern- 
 ment of the city under the new rule. The Confederate flag 
 never waved over Memphis again. 
 
 The liveliest point was the levee. Some twenty-five 
 steamboats, side- and stern-wheelers, were lying along it. 
 Some of them were commissary and quartermaster boats 
 discharging their loads; others were the regular tenders of 
 the Federal river fleet; while three or four were more or 
 less damaged craft captured from the enemy. Some dis- 
 tance from the long line of ordinary boats lay at anchor 
 in grim blackness six gunboats and four rams. They had 
 performed a most daring and gallant exploit three days 
 before, to which I must make a passing allusion. The fleet, 
 aided by a brigade of Indiana infantry regiments, had 
 been besieging Fort Pillow ever since the reduction of Island 
 No. 10. The fort was constructed by the rebels for the 
 defence of the Mississippi on its left bank at the so-called 
 Chickasaw Bluffs, about sixty-five miles above Memphis. 
 The "siege" consisted altogether of an exchange of heavy 
 shot Between the fort and the fleet. On the morning of 
 June 5, it was discovered that the rebels had abandoned the 
 fort; this step being the logical sequence of the rebel re- 
 treat from Corinth. It was immediately occupied from the 
 fleet. Commander Davis, flag-officer of the naval force,
 
 1862] THE TAKING OF MEMPHIS 
 
 and Colonel Ellet (commanding the four boats that had 
 been, in an incredibly short time, converted by him, under 
 authority of the War Department, into "rams" of the most 
 formidable character) lost no time in getting under way 
 at noon for Memphis, and anchored for the night a mile 
 and a half above the city. Early next morning, they dis- 
 covered the rebel fleet of eight gunboats and rams in front 
 of the city. The Federal commanders started for their 
 prey at half-past five. Ellet led the attack with his flagship, 
 the ram Queen, followed by the other rams. The fight 
 raged for an hour and a half, with rams against rams, and 
 with gunboats keeping up a tremendous fire at close quar- 
 ters against gunboats. It was all over at seven, with the 
 nearly complete destruction of the hostile squadron. 
 Seven of its vessels were captured, sunk, or burned, only 
 one escaping down the river. The Federal loss was slight, 
 but included the gallant Ellet, who received a pistol-shot 
 fired by a rebel within a few feet of him when the Queen 
 struck the first antagonist. The wound was at first con- 
 sidered slight, but he died from it two weeks later while 
 on the way to his home in Ohio. Ellet was one of the most 
 notable figures of the war. He possessed veritable genius 
 as an engineer, and, being an intense loyalist, offered his 
 special services for "clearing the Mississippi" to Secretary 
 Stanton, who accepted them, commissioned him as colonel, 
 and placed the means at his disposal for carrying out his 
 plans. His untimely death was a great national loss, and 
 was universally lamented. 
 
 The terrible spectacle of the naval battle was witnessed by 
 tens of thousands of the inhabitants of the city, whose 
 surrender was demanded by Commander Davis immediately 
 after the cessation of hostilities and conceded by the mayor. 
 Before actual possession was taken, Colonel Ellet 's young 
 son landed with a small squad of men, and they boldly 
 made their way through crowds of secession sympathizers 
 to the post-effice and custom-house, took down the Con- 
 federate flags over those buildings, and hoisted the Stars
 
 286 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 and Stripes in their place. The Indiana brigade landed by 
 noon and established military rule in the city. 
 
 The second day of my stay, my newspaper friends took 
 me on a round of visits to the gunboats and rams. We 
 were rowed successively to the flagship Benton, where we 
 saw Commander Davis and Lieutenant Phelps, and then to 
 four others, of whose names I remember only the Cairo 
 and the Carondelet. They were specially built for the 
 service, and looked to me, who had never seen any men-of- 
 war, quite formidable, with their batteries of heavy guns, 
 uniformed officers and crews, and the perfect order and 
 discipline enforced on them. We were very hospitably re- 
 ceived, and found the officers in a high state of elation over 
 their overwhelming triumph, as they had a right to be. 
 We also visited the rams, but were not permitted to see 
 Colonel Ellet, who was said to have a high wound-fever. 
 The rams were Mississippi steamboats cut down to their 
 lower deck, and built up again fore and aft and on both 
 sides with wooden bulwarks from a foot to a foot and a 
 half thick, and covered with iron plates several inches thick. 
 They were roofed over in the same way. Their double, 
 iron-cased prows looked like huge wedges, and formed tre- 
 mendous instruments of destruction. The illusion prevailed 
 on the fleet, from the highest in command to the simple 
 seamen, that the victory virtually opened the Mississippi 
 down to New Orleans ; but alas ! it took a great deal more 
 sanguinary work to accomplish that. 
 
 My recreation in Memphis was cut short by the news, 
 which I learned early on June 11 from a captain of the 
 commissary department of the Army of the Ohio whom I 
 accidentally met on the street, that General Buell had re- 
 ceived formal orders to march, and that General McCook's 
 division had already started from Corinth that very day. 
 Here was a predicament for me, as that doubtless implied 
 that my host, the division quartermaster, and my horse and 
 other belongings were gone also. Bidding a hasty fare- 
 well to my colleagues, I managed to catch a train that left
 
 1862] WITH COLONEL McCOOK 287 
 
 at noon for Corinth. We travelled faster than before, but 
 were still nearly eight hours in reaching Corinth. It did 
 not take me long to make the pleasant discovery that, while 
 McCook 's division was actually gone, Captain Gamage had 
 stayed behind in charge of the division train, which was to 
 move early the next day. As the programme was that the 
 division should await the train at luka, forty-five miles 
 east of Corinth, I concluded to accompany the train, instead 
 of riding ahead and trying to overtake the division, with 
 the risk of capture by rebel guerrillas, who were known to 
 be swarming in northern Mississippi and Alabama. 
 
 We were two days in reaching luka. It was a hard march 
 for man and beast, the heat being great, the roads covered 
 with deep dust, and the mosquitoes very abundant and ag- 
 gressive. The route led through a succession of swampy 
 lowlands and hilly stretches covered with poor timber. 
 Only here and there were poverty-stricken farms and 
 clusters of habitations, passing for villages, mostly deserted 
 by the inhabitants. In order to avoid the choking clouds 
 of dust raised by the train, Captain Gamage and I joined 
 the main body of the cavalry escort in front of it. It con- 
 sisted of the Second Indiana cavalry regiment, commanded 
 by Colonel Edward M. McCook, a first cousin of General 
 A. McD. McCook, and a brother of General Anson G. 
 McCook, who after the war was for many years secretary 
 of the United States Senate, and subsequently chamber- 
 lain of the city of New York. Edward McCook was as 
 fine-looking an officer as could be found in the army: tall, 
 graceful in figure and motion, with regular features, bril- 
 liant eyes, and black hair and beard. I was soon on very 
 good terms with him, and we subsequently were thrown 
 together a good deal, as will appear hereafter. (He was 
 Territorial Governor of Colorado after the war.) He had a 
 splendid regiment of picked men and horses, well drilled 
 and disciplined by the other field officers, Lieutenant- 
 Colonel Stewart and Major Hill, who had seen long service 
 as non-commissioned officers in a regular cavalry regiment.
 
 288 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 Nothing occurred to interrupt our progress, and, on the 
 evening of June 13, I rejoined McCook's division head- 
 quarters at luka. 
 
 Buell's new movement, it will be remembered, was the 
 occupation of the important strategic point, Chattanooga, 
 and the liberation of East Tennessee. But, in addition to 
 general instructions to this effect from Halleck, he also re- 
 ceived a specific order to put the line of the Memphis & 
 Charleston Railroad along his route of march in running 
 order, and to maintain it b"y proper military protection. 
 The distance from Corinth to Chattanooga is 217 miles, and 
 should have been easily traversed by the army in from 
 twenty-five to thirty-five days. General Buell always 
 claimed that, in a personal interview with Halleck on the 
 llth, he requested to be permitted to choose his own route, 
 his preference being in favor of a line of march through 
 middle Tennessee via McMinnville, but that the order to 
 repair the road and use it as a line of supply was insisted 
 upon. An issue subsequently arose betwen Buell and Hal- 
 leck as to the latter 's responsibility for this. But, whatever 
 the facts were, it can hardly be disputed that the coming 
 failures of the Army of the Ohio were mainly due to the 
 delays and other injurious effects of the efforts to repair 
 and run the railroad in question. Fully two months were 
 spent by half of the army in opening and holding it to 
 Decatur, only to find that its regular operation could not 
 be maintained, as it ran parallel to the front of the enemy, 
 and hence was peculiarly exposed to interruption. More- 
 over, it proved impossible to stock it with sufficient motive- 
 power and cars in time to do much good to Buell's forces. 
 The work on the road resulted, too, in scattering the army 
 a good deal, and demoralized the troops by keeping them 
 from their regular military duties. The detention no doubt 
 caused the miscarriage of the general plan for the cam- 
 paign and the extraordinary turn of events which was to 
 lead the Army of the Ohio, not to East Tennessee, but 
 back to the river whose name it bore.
 
 1862] WITH COLONEL McCOOK 289 
 
 I left luka with McCook's division the day after I joined 
 it. We were closely followed by Crittenden's division that 
 had been pursuing Beauregard and had come on our route 
 at luka. Wood's division we found already engaged in 
 road-repairing between luka and Florence. Nelson's was 
 similarly occupied between luka and Corinth. Our march 
 was again made very trying by the heat and dust and the 
 stinging vermin. But we went into camp on the evening 
 of the 15th, not far from the Tennessee River on the south 
 bank, almost opposite the town of Florence. We lost a 
 whole week here in waiting for the completion of a ferry- 
 boat, without which the river could not be crossed, the 
 bridge over it being destroyed. The army contained plenty 
 of men trained for that and any other sort of mechanical 
 work, but the lack of machine- and hand-tools made the 
 construction of the boat slow and difficult. The week was 
 pleasantly spent, as we had a fine camp, good water, plenty 
 to eat for man and beast, and cool nights free from 
 mosquitoes. The surrounding scenery was quite pictur- 
 esque. A great enjoyment for me was the daily swim I 
 took in the river. The troops, too, were glad of the chance 
 to clean up. Some diversion was afforded By the arrival 
 of some very light-draught boats from Cairo, with army 
 supplies. 
 
 I crossed over to Florence on the 23d, but it took fully 
 three days' and nights' hard work to get the whole division 
 with its artillery and trains over. It did not resume its 
 march on the right bank for several days, owing to an 
 order from Halleck to Buell to hold his command in place, 
 as there were signs of an aggressive movement of the enemy 
 upon luka ; but this story turned out to have no foundation 
 whatever. Florence was no more worthy of its famous 
 name than Corinth. It looked rather attractive from the 
 south bank, but proved very unclassical upon actual in- 
 spection a straggling combination of brick and frame 
 buildings of very plain style and neglected appearance. 
 It had been occupied for some months by Union troops, and 
 
 19
 
 290 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 was abandoned by most of the inhabitants. A very brisk 
 trade seemed to be carried on by speculators from the 
 North, provided with permits from the United States 
 Treasury Department, in buying up cotton for cash or in 
 exchange for merchandise. This indulgence on the part 
 of the Federal authorities, which grew into a general prac- 
 tice wherever cotton-producing regions were occupied, was 
 very ill advised, and led everywhere to a regular contraband 
 traffic with the South. 
 
 By this time General Buell had made up his mind that 
 his army could not prosecute the campaign into East Ten- 
 nessee without safe and ample lines of supply, and that, 
 the Memphis & Charleston Road having failed as such, the 
 completion of the two rail lines from Nashville to the Ten- 
 nessee River, viz., one by way of Franklin, Columbia, 
 Pulaski, and Athens to Decatur, and the other through 
 Murfreesboro', Tullahoma, and Decherd to Stevenson, was 
 imperative. The movements of his command during July 
 were directed accordingly. Generals McCook's and Crit- 
 tenden's divisions were destined for Stevenson, the farther 
 of the two termini, Nelson's for Athens, Wood's for Deca- 
 tur. Parts of all these divisions were to work on the rail- 
 roads mentioned between Stevenson and Deeherd and Deca- 
 tur and Athens and Pulaski. General Thomas's division, 
 which had been finally relieved from duty at and about 
 Corinth, was to replace Wood and Nelson along the 
 Memphis & Charleston. This distribution over a long line 
 made it impracticable for me to observe the doings of any 
 other parts of the army than those under McCook, with 
 whom, as in the advance, I deemed it best to remain ; and 
 my narrative will therefore relate solely to his operations 
 up to the re-concentration of the army. 
 
 I believe it was on July 2d or 3d that we started from 
 Florence via Athens an even more unclassical place than 
 Florence for Huntsville, Alabama, some seventy miles 
 distant. The division made them in four days and a half 
 very good marching, considering the great heat and suffo-
 
 1862] PUSHING NORTHWARD 291 
 
 eating dust in which it was accomplished. The ordinary 
 dirt road led within a few miles of the Tennessee, through 
 a very broken country, and became more and more difficult, 
 owing to many steep ascents and descents, for the troops, 
 artillery, and trains. No signs of the enemy were dis- 
 covered. Huntsville, a county seat and active trading cen- 
 tre, with a population, I believe, of five to six thousand, 
 presented by its substantial appearance quite a pleasing 
 contrast to the shabby places we had passed before. It was, 
 indeed, one of the most prosperous places in northern Ala- 
 bama before the war. General O. M. Mitchel, commanding 
 another division, had occupied the town in April, and made 
 it the point from which to clear the country of the rebels 
 as far east as Stevenson and west as Florence ; in which he 
 had fully succeeded. General McCook left us at Hunts- 
 ville on a short leave of absence, but the division resumed 
 its march after a day's rest. We pushed on very steadily 
 for a week and suffered again greatly from heat and dust, 
 making from sixteen to eighteen miles a day, and reached 
 Stevenson on July 14. All through the last day's march, we 
 had heard from time to time the exhilarating sounds of loco- 
 motive whistles, and were much rejoiced to learn that the 
 railroad from Nashville to Stevenson had been fully re- 
 paired, and that through-trains had arrived over it the day 
 before. We found Louisville papers only two days old 
 a great treat, as we had heard nothing from the North for 
 fully ten days. We stopped till the return of General 
 McCook on the 17th. On the next day, we moved on to 
 Battle Creek, seven miles, I think, from Stevenson. This 
 brought us within thirty-one miles of Chattanooga, but 
 Buell 's army was not destined at that time to get any nearer 
 to that objective-point. Crittenden's division had followed 
 us closely, and General McCook exercised command over it 
 and his own. General Buell, meanwhile, had established 
 his headquarters at Huntsville, being thus separated by a 
 long distance from his advance, consisting of one-third of 
 his army, though in telegraphic communication with it.
 
 292 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 There were already at that time more or less telling in- 
 dications that the withdrawal of the rebels from Corinth 
 had been but the first act in a new strategic programme 
 aiming at a complete shifting of the scene of active opera- 
 tions and the resumption of the offensive by them. It 
 gradually became clear that this programme comprised the 
 transfer of the rebel army from middle Mississippi to 
 Chattanooga, and a flanking movement thence against Buell 
 under the leadership of General Bragg, who had super- 
 seded Beauregard. Buell seems to have first grown sus- 
 picious of it about the middle of July, when a series of 
 rebel cavalry raids upon his lines of communication in 
 Tennessee and Kentucky began with the sudden appear- 
 ance of the daring cavalry leader Morgan, in the neigh- 
 borhood of Bowling Green, and his dash thence through 
 central Kentucky by way of Munfordville, Lebanon, Lex- 
 ington, and Paris, with a force variously estimated at 
 from one to three thousand mounted men. He captured 
 a number of Federal detachments and inflicted consider- 
 able other damage. He recrossed the Cumberland near Mills 
 Springs and safely reached East Tennessee, whence he had 
 started, thus completing a circuit in his rapid movements. 
 The next surprise of the same kind came on July 13, when 
 Forrest, who developed into the most dangerous and suc- 
 cessful rebel raider in the West, burst upon the town of 
 Murfreesboro' like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. He 
 utterly surprised and captured the garrison of fourteen 
 hundred cavalry, infantry, and artillery who, from the 
 brigadier in command down to the rank and file, behaved 
 disgracefully together with hundreds of animals and 
 wagons and great quantities of supplies, and worked such 
 destruction on the railroad connecting Murfreesboro' with 
 Nashville and Stevenson, between which latter points trains 
 had run through for the first time only the day before, 
 that it took two weeks to repair the damage. We felt the 
 effect of this disaster at once at Battle Creek by the failure 
 of the mails and newspapers, and the orders of the com-
 
 1862] PUSHING NORTHWARD 293 
 
 manding-general to economize as much as possible with 
 food and forage. 
 
 But Buell did not at first perceive the true meaning of 
 these raids. He did not interpret them as the precursors, 
 which they really were, of a coming attempt in strong force 
 to compel him to abandon his movement upon Chattanooga 
 and East Tennessee. He thought that his further advance 
 would be disputed in front, and that the raids were merely 
 meant to delay it, and he took measures immediately for 
 the protection of the railroads by ordering Nelson's division 
 to Murf reesboro ' and drawing Wood's up to the Nashville 
 & Decatur Road. But he still was confident that he could 
 overcome the enemy in his way, and was far from con- 
 templating the possibility of finding himself obliged be- 
 fore long to abandon his offensive campaign altogether, and 
 to lead his army back to where it had started from early 
 in the year. The arrival of General Bragg at Chattanooga 
 on July 28, which he quickly learned, rather confirmed him 
 in his view of the situation, in accordance with which he 
 hastened the preparations for a resumption of his advance. 
 Supplies were hurried forward to the front, and pontoon 
 bridges for crossing the Tennessee got ready. The army 
 trains were concentrated between Decherd, a railroad junc- 
 tion thirty miles north of Stevenson, and the river. All 
 the troops between Stevenson, Huntsville, and Athens, in- 
 cluding General Thomas's division, were ordered to the 
 same vicinity. The army headquarters were also moved to 
 Decherd. 
 
 Excepting some scouting excursions to the south and east, 
 McCook's command remained stationary for nearly four 
 weeks at Battle Creek. As I again complied strictly with 
 my pledge not to report anything of the movements of our 
 army, I underwent another involuntary term of idleness. 
 The monotony of camp life was very irksome, yet there was 
 nothing for me to do but to accept it. The division head- 
 quarters were kept astir, however, by the accounts of the 
 rebel movements and plans, frequently brought in by spies,
 
 294 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 refugees, prisoners, and deserters, of which I was informed 
 in confidence. They agreed that a concentration of rebel 
 forces was steadily going on at and about Chattanooga, 
 and that they meant to take the offensive. Reports that 
 Bragg was about to cross the Tennessee, and even that he 
 had actually crossed, commenced coming in early in Au- 
 gust, and kept us on the alert, but they all proved to be 
 unfounded. The constant confirmation of the near presence 
 of a hostile army estimated at from fifty to sixty thousand, 
 however, led Buell to give up his belief that Bragg would 
 remain on the defensive and await his own advance upon 
 him, and to act on the presumption that the rebels would 
 cross over the Walden range of hills, rising from the right 
 bank of the Tennessee directly opposite Chattanooga, into 
 the valley of the Sequatchie, and follow that river down to 
 its mouth, debouching near Butte Creek, and turning Mc- 
 Cook by recrossing the Tennessee. 
 
 He was strengthened in this new theory by the increasing 
 frequency, formidableness, and success of the rebel efforts 
 in Tennessee and Kentucky to obstruct his long channel 
 of supply by the single line of rail from Louisville to 
 Nashville, and the double one from Nashville to his front. 
 More or less numerous bands of mounted guerrillas ap- 
 peared at many points in both States, annoying or captur- 
 ing and destroying what came in their way. Reports of 
 encounters with them reached the army headquarters daily. 
 Though defeated in one place, they quickly turned up again 
 in another. A report reached Buell on August 6, that Mor- 
 gan had reappeared with a large force and was making for 
 Nashville, whereupon orders were immediately issued to 
 fortify that city sufficiently to protect it from surprise. 
 On August 10, the dreaded rebel actually turned up at 
 Gallatin, a town on the Louisville & Nashville line, on the 
 north bank of the Cumberland, only twenty-five miles from 
 Nashville. He surprised and captured the garrison, and 
 then proceeded to destroy culverts and bridges in the direc- 
 tion of the latter city. Moving northwest toward Bowling
 
 1862] LOUISVILLE CUT OFF 295 
 
 Green, he obstructed the tunnel seven miles north of Gal- 
 latin, and burned an additional number of wooden super- 
 structures. It was learned about the same time that Forrest 
 had again reached the Cumberland with several thousand 
 cavalry, and was moving toward Nashville. Buell at once 
 sent a cavalry force of seven hundred under Brigadier- 
 General Johnson, an old regular-cavalry man, after Morgan. 
 Johnson overtook him near Gallatin, but, owing to the mis- 
 behavior of part of his command, was beaten, and he him- 
 self taken prisoner with one hundred and fifty men. The 
 remainder of his men refused to surrender and got away. 
 Johnson was afterward charged with incapacity and cow- 
 ardice in this affair. 
 
 This bad news produced no little anxiety in the army 
 and at our division headquarters. The interruption of 
 rail communication with Louisville, our primary base, was, 
 indeed, a most serious blow, and, if long continued, was 
 bound to frustrate the plan of campaign and compel retro- 
 grade movements. General Nelson was therefore detached 
 from his division and ordered to Kentucky to restore our 
 communications and clear that State of Morgan and the 
 guerrillas. The army commander also telegraphed to Gen- 
 eral Grant, by authority of General Halleck, who had in 
 the meantime been called to Washington as general-in-chief 
 of all troops in the field, for two additional divisions, one 
 to be used for protecting the line north of Nashville, and 
 the other for service on the front in the general advance, 
 which was still believed possible notwithstanding the 
 threatening occurrences in the rear. 
 
 To General McCook's command now fell the part of an 
 active corps of observation. On August 19 it received 
 orders, upon the first intelligence of an advance of the 
 enemy along the Sequatchie, to move promptly up that 
 valley to check him and observe his movements. If pressed, 
 he was to fall back over the so-called Therman road, di- 
 verging from the Sequatchie to the north, upon the main 
 Union force that was expected to advance from McMinn-
 
 296 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 ville. Crittenden's division was also to move up the 
 Sequatchie in the wake of McCook and in his support, and, 
 if necessary, also to fall back over another road upon the 
 column from McMinnville. 
 
 We commenced our march up the valley on the 20th, and 
 had been under way some hours when we met two spies 
 with very full and apparently reliable information as to 
 the doings of the enemy. One of them was a non-commis- 
 sioned officer in an Ohio regiment, a very intelligent man, 
 who had volunteered for this perilous mission. He had 
 spent some days at Chattanooga. He affirme^d very posi- 
 tively that Bragg had crossed the river at Chattanooga 
 with seventy regiments and a great deal of artillery, and 
 was moving down the Sequatchie. This intelligence made 
 General McCook fear that he could not reach the Therman 
 road before Bragg, and he decided to fall back with his 
 column to the so-called Higginbottom pike, also leading 
 over the Cumberland Mountains, that bordered the Sequat- 
 chie on the north. The General and staff rode in advance 
 up the very steep ascent of the pike to the summit, and I 
 went with them. We ascertained quickly that the road 
 was altogether too steep for artillery and trains, and the 
 General determined to return to Battle Creek and move 
 up its valley by another road over the mountains. He 
 received orders on the 23d to march over the Battle Creek 
 road in one day to Pelham, on the plateau of the Cumber- 
 land Mountains, a few miles from Decherd, thence to Alta- 
 mont, and there to form a junction with Thomas's forces 
 and attack the enemy if he should come over the Therman 
 road. The road proved very difficult and the distance 
 longer than expected, so that we bivouacked on the summit 
 of the mountains seven miles from Pelham, and descended 
 to that point a wretched-looking, deserted hamlet early 
 next morning. We found there the first division under 
 temporary command of General Schoepf, a German-Hun- 
 garian, who had seen service in the old country and was 
 a thorough soldier. Having ascertained that General
 
 1862] ON TO MURFREESBORO' 297 
 
 Thomas had left Altamont, we went into camp, awaiting 
 further orders from General Buell, who came over the next 
 day from Decherd and directed us to move on to Altamont. 
 
 The plateau and northern outrunners of the Cumber- 
 land range that we had traversed from Battle Creek to 
 Altamont, formed a very broken, sterile, and dry stretch of 
 country. With the exception of a little forage of hay and 
 green corn, it was destitute of supplies of every kind; 
 while, owing to the interruption of the Louisville & Nash- 
 ville Railroad, the troops had subsisted on half-rations for 
 twenty days. The greatest difficulty was the want of water 
 for men and beasts. Our whole division had but one spring 
 to draw from for officers and men, and only pools of stag- 
 nant water in a half-dry streamlet several miles away were 
 available for the animals. We were to watch for the sup- 
 posed approach of the enemy over the Therman road at 
 Altamont (this high-sounding name belonged to as mean a 
 place as Pelham), whence four roads ran in different direc- 
 tions towards middle Tennessee ; but the lack of water com- 
 pelled us to move half a day's march on to Hubbard's Cove 
 on Hickory Creek. Here, orders were received to concen- 
 trate with the rest of the army at Murf reesboro ' and to 
 make for that point as rapidly as possible. 
 
 General Buell had become satisfied some days before that 
 the movement of the enemy down the Sequatchie had been 
 only either a feint or a reconnoissance in force. He next 
 expected an advance of Bragg over the Therman road, and 
 concluded, only after he had been disappointed in this 
 expectation also, that his adversary was moving north over 
 a more easterly route. General Thomas had thought this all 
 along, and urged proper counter-moves upon his superior, 
 without convincing him. Buell now determined upon a 
 rapid concentration of his army at Murf reesboro ', upon 
 the theory that Bragg 's objective-point was Nashville. 
 Some of his generals did not share this notion, and felt 
 sure that the enemy was not bound for middle Tennessee, 
 but for Kentucky. They were right and Buell wrong, but
 
 298 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 the general concentrating movement was formally ordered 
 on August 30 and carried out. It was admirably planned, 
 and effected with remarkable precision, considering that it 
 included not only large bodies, but moving detachments, 
 post-garrisons, and railroad guards spread out over a terri- 
 tory of one hundred and fifty by one hundred miles, and 
 that only one week was allowed for completing it. 
 
 The day before McCook began his march to Murfrees- 
 boro', Edward McCook, the cavalry colonel, unexpectedly 
 appeared with a small mounted escort for a brief visit to 
 his cousin. He had been employed for nearly two months 
 after we parted in escorting supply trains along the Ten- 
 nessee River, but had followed General Nelson's division 
 when it moved to McMinnville. He had been engaged with 
 his command for some weeks in scouting, hunting, and fight- 
 ing guerrillas. He invited me to accompany him, and, as 
 I was weary of the monotonous marches, I accepted and 
 rode off with him. For a week, I had an experience that 
 reminded me continually of the song in Schiller's play of 
 the " Robbers " 
 
 u Ein freies Leben fiihren wir." 
 
 The Colonel had a brigade of nominally three mounted 
 regiments, but actually not more than eleven hundred men, 
 under him. They were well armed and relatively well 
 mounted, as their commander had made it his rule to ex- 
 change any good horses found in the country for the worn 
 ones of his command. Not having received any new clothing 
 since spring, however, a considerable percentage of the men 
 had substituted civilian garments for parts of their uni- 
 forms, and thus presented a rather mixed exterior. More 
 than half had managed to possess themselves of straw and 
 felt hats of various colors. A score or so wore "butternut" 
 or " Confederate gray," being the "scouting squad" in 
 the disguise of rebels for the better performance of their 
 perilous duties.
 
 1862] SCOUTING WITH McCOOK 299 
 
 Altogether, the motley appearance of the brigade was in 
 keeping with the miscellaneous services it had to render. 
 It was literally a "flying column," moving rapidly from 
 point to point, and walking, trotting, and galloping from 
 twenty to forty miles a day. Every morning a number of 
 detachments were sent in advance and to right and left 
 of the main body, scouring the country in search of the 
 enemy, of food and forage, and suitable camping-grounds. 
 The Colonel and I always rode with the advance. Three 
 times we had a chase of rebel game and lively bush-fighting, 
 resulting in some casualties on both sides. We bivouacked 
 every night in the open air, with nothing but waterproofs 
 under, and blankets and roofs of fence rails or branches of 
 trees over us. Saddles served as pillows. A few ambu- 
 lances and a dozen wagons with ammunition were all our 
 transportation. We literally lived on the country, and, 
 like a swarm of locusts, left nothing eatable behind us. 
 Our men had acquired remarkable skill in making a clean 
 sweep of food and fodder. They were especially smart 
 in discovering the hidden stores and the cattle that had 
 been driven off by the inhabitants, in which they were often 
 helped by the black people, a bevy of whom, mounted on 
 mules, had gradually collected and followed us into "free- 
 dom." Our meals were, of course, very irregular, and 
 more remarkable for simplicity than variety; but, while 
 we sometimes went to sleep or started off in the morning 
 without a meal, we got along well enough. I certainly en- 
 joyed the adventurous life, which was to me a repetition 
 of my Colorado days. 
 
 One exciting incident impressed itself especially on my 
 mind. While we were riding one afternoon with the ad- 
 vance, a private asked leave to fall out for a certain pur- 
 pose. He tied his horse to a fence and climbed over the 
 latter into a corn-field. In about five minutes we heard 
 a shot from the direction of the field. Fearing at once that 
 something had happened to the man, we stopped and sent 
 back a platoon for him. Soon afterward one of the latter
 
 300 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 galloped up with the news that the poor fellow had been 
 found shot dead. It being evidently a case of stealthy mur- 
 der, we at once returned to the scene, and there the Colonel 
 decided to make an example. We made for the dwelling of 
 the owner of the farm, where only women and children 
 seemed to be. We could get nothing out of them, but a 
 male slave, when threatened, confessed that young ' ' Massa ' ' 
 had fired the shot. Thereupon, all human beings and ani- 
 mals were ordered out of the buildings, which were imme- 
 diately set on fire and burned down in less than an hour. 
 Stern retribution like this, and even sterner, had become 
 a necessity, owing to the frequent assassinations that had 
 occurred in middle Tennessee during the summer. The 
 worst outrage of this kind was the murder of General 
 Robert L. McCook (whom I mentioned as colonel of the 
 9th Ohio, in connection with the battle of Mill Springs) 
 while going to a railroad station in an ambulance, on sick- 
 leave. General Buell had issued orders to hang at once 
 every civilian caught as a guerrilla, and Colonel McCook 's 
 command had inflicted the death penalty in five cases 
 already. 
 
 According to instructions, we had made our way to and 
 beyond McMinnville. Some twelve miles to the east of 
 that place, our scouts brought us the positive intelligence 
 that Bragg 's army was moving to the north over the road 
 leading through Spencer and Sparta to Carthage on the 
 Tennessee River, and was already near the latter. We at 
 once started back with this important news, and, on reach- 
 ing McMinnville a rather pretty and substantial town of 
 several thousand inhabitants the Colonel reported it by 
 wire to the army headquarters. Like the rest of the army, 
 we also were ordered to Murf reesboro ', and marched there 
 in two days. We passed through a rich agricultural 
 country, one large plantation with fine brick dwellings 
 and out-buildings succeeding another. The road was 
 a well-macadamized highway. As the brigade had met 
 its wagon train at McMinnville and drawn commissary
 
 1862] ON TO NASHVILLE 301 
 
 and quartermaster supplies, our "freebooter" days came 
 to an end. 
 
 The converging movement to Murf reesboro ' of the differ- 
 ent parts of the army was substantially completed on Sep- 
 tember 5. But Colonel McCook's report of Bragg 's north- 
 ward passage, which was confirmed from other sources, and 
 the alarming news, received about the same time, of the 
 bad defeat of General Nelson in eastern Kentucky, had 
 at last brought the real situation home to General Buell, viz., 
 that his adversary was fast executing a bold flanking march 
 into central Kentucky, with Louisville doubtless as the ob- 
 jective-point, and that there was nothing left but to try 
 and beat him in a race for the Ohio River. Hence the army 
 did not tarry at all at Murf reesboro ', but, in obedience to 
 general orders, immediately continued on in forced marches 
 to Nashville and thence on to the north. I rejoined Mc- 
 Cook's division near Murf reesboro ' which proved to be 
 quite a pleasant, compactly built-up little town again to 
 share its fortunes for almost two months. 
 
 With General Buell 's cold, impassive nature and habitual 
 reserve and reticence, any strong expression of feeling could 
 hardly be expected from him, but those who came in con- 
 tact with him in those days perceived, nevertheless, that 
 he was greatly afflicted by the turn of events. It could not 
 well be otherwise, for what was happening meant nothing 
 less than a forced change from the offensive to the de- 
 fensive, which, in spite of whatever explanations might be 
 offered by him, would have the appearance of a compulsory 
 retreat, and was sure to be looked upon as such by the Gov- 
 ernment, the public, and his own army. Furthermore, there 
 was the undeniable discredit and humiliation of the invol- 
 untary abandonment of much of the fruit of the great ex- 
 penditure of life, labor, and money during the summer 
 in occupying rebel territory, incessant fighting on a small 
 scale, repairing railroads, and doing a vast amount of other 
 hard work. The distrust of Buell as an army commander, 
 of which the battle of Shiloh and the siege of Corinth had
 
 302 HENKY VILLARD [1862 
 
 relieved him, now set in again more strongly than before. 
 The necessity of following Bragg 's lead back to where they 
 had started from, naturally had a very dispiriting influ- 
 ence upon the commanders under him. As we shall see, it 
 demoralized also the rank and file to a dangerous extent. 
 Anxiety as to the new campaign about to be entered upon 
 pervaded the whole army. I confess that I shared the gen- 
 eral depression. 
 
 McCook's division formed the rear of the army. We 
 left Murf reesboro ' early on the morning of September 7, 
 with 11,000 infantry, 3000 cavalry, and an enormous train 
 of 750 wagons, forming a column over ten miles long. The 
 heat was great, and we rode nearly all the time in clouds 
 of dust, but had accomplished our severe task of thirty 
 miles at 11 P.M. of the same day, and went into camp within 
 two miles and a half of Nashville. General McCook him- 
 self proceeded to General Buell's headquarters, and there 
 at midnight received orders to cross the Cumberland the 
 next day and march as fast as possible toward Franklin 
 in Kentucky. General Buell announced his determination 
 to start at once, with the divisions of McCook, Crittenden, 
 Ammen, Wood, Rousseau, and Mitchel, in pursuit of Bragg, 
 who was reported to Be marching from Carthage to Glas- 
 gow, fifty miles north of the former place and ninety-five 
 miles from Nashville. General Thomas, with his own, 
 Negley's, and Palmer's divisions, was to be left behind for 
 the defence of Nashville, which was to be held at all hazards. 
 General McCook advised him to abandon the city, and asked 
 as a special favor to be allowed to burn it "as the most 
 treasonable secession nest" in the whole South, but Buell 
 would not entertain this radical suggestion. The Louisville 
 & Nashville Railroad remained broken up from Nashville 
 to within fifty miles of Louisville, so that human legs and 
 animals formed our sole reliance for transportation. As 
 only half-rations could be allowed for the march, it was a 
 question whether the powers of endurance of man and beast 
 would prove equal to the task.
 
 1862] THE RACE WITH BRAGG 303 
 
 We were in motion again in the morning, passed the river, 
 and 1 had marched some miles to the north of it on the Frank- 
 lin turnpike, when instructions from Buell overtook us to 
 halt till further orders. In the evening an order came to 
 hurry to Edgefield Junction to the support of the division 
 of General Ammen, who believed the enemy was approach- 
 ing him in force. Instead of sleeping, we had a night's 
 march of it, reaching the Junction at two in the morning, 
 only to find that there had been a false alarm. During the 
 following forenoon, we again got under way as the head of 
 the army for Franklin and Bowling Green. General Buell 
 and staff overtook us and rode with us all day. He hoped, 
 by forcing the marching of his command to the utmost, to 
 come up with the enemy between Glasgow and Bowling 
 Green, in the direction of which point the rebel cavalry 
 advance was reported to be going from Glasgow, with the 
 Hulk of Bragg 's army following closely behind it. But 
 there was a difference of thirty-five miles in distance, and 
 apparently two days' time in addition, in Bragg 's favor, 
 so that the outcome of the race was uncertain, and every- 
 body felt anxious. It took us three more days' marching 
 to reach Bowling Green, where we stopped for two days 
 in order to give the other divisions time to come up. The 
 last of these joined us on the evening of the 15th. On the 
 16th, the army started again in three columns over as many 
 different roads toward Glasgow, prepared to attack the 
 enemy whenever encountered. But our advance cavalry re- 
 ported the same evening that Bragg had left Glasgow and 
 moved directly upon Munfordville. Our route of march 
 was at once changed, and Cave City and Horse Wells, ten 
 miles from Munfordville, made the next day. There we 
 had a most discouraging surprise. The whole garrison of 
 Munfordville, over two thousand infantry, came into our 
 lines disarmed as paroled prisoners of war. They had 
 shamefully surrendered in the morning to Bragg, after 
 some resistance. Though they held a very strong position, 
 their cowardly commanders allowed themselves to be fright-
 
 304 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 ened into a capitulation by the threats and display of force 
 of the rebel general. 
 
 This scandalous incident produced a thrill of disgust and 
 discouragement in our army. However, we pushed on 
 towards Munfordville the next day, and found that the 
 enemy was still there. Thus we had at least the satisfac- 
 tion of having overtaken him, owing to his delay at Mun- 
 fordville, which was some compensation for the surrender. 
 We felt the rebel position on the 19th and 20th. Bragg 
 withdrew the next day, his rear guard being driven out of 
 the town by our advance. Our army followed him closely, 
 and skirmishing was kept up with his rear constantly on 
 the following three days, up to a point within thirty-five 
 miles of Louisville, when he changed his direction to the east 
 towards Bardstown, with a view, as became subsequently 
 known, of effecting a junction with the forces of General 
 Kirby Smith, approaching from eastern Kentucky in the 
 so-called "Blue Grass" region. Bragg 's deflection opened 
 the way to Louisville to Buell, and he decided, as part of 
 his command had exhausted its supplies and urgently 
 needed replenishment of clothing and footwear, and as, 
 moreover, a large body of fresh troops was gathered there 
 from which he could fill his depleted ranks, to push as 
 rapidly as posible for that city, and start from it upon a 
 new campaign against Bragg. 
 
 McCook's division was continuously in motion, with the 
 exception of two days' halt at Prewitt's Knob, between 
 Bowling Green and Louisville. It made the distance of one 
 hundred and twenty miles in seven marching days, of which 
 the last three were the hardest ; twenty-four, twenty-three, 
 and twenty-one miles respectively being made. The division 
 not having the lead of the army, nothing noteworthy hap- 
 pened during that week, and I do not deem it worth my 
 while to give the uninteresting details of our marching ex- 
 perience. Two nights we slept on the floor in farm-houses, 
 but the rest of the week we had to bivouac. As the reb'els 
 had stripped the country ahead of us, we were limited to
 
 1862J AT LOUISVILLE 305 
 
 the scanty army fare we brought along. Notwithstanding 
 the insufficient food, the troops bore the hardships of the 
 long march there was an average of about one hundred 
 and eighty-five miles made by them between Nashville 
 and Louisville remarkably well. There was considerable 
 straggling in search of food, but the percentage of footsore 
 and sick was low. We were favored by magnificent fall 
 weather, moderately warm during the day and not too 
 cool at night. When within ten miles of Louisville, I rode 
 ahead of the division over the familiar highway and drew 
 up in front of the Gait House at 10 P.M. on September 
 27. The old night clerk was at his post, but he did not 
 recognize me with my dust-begrimed countenance and full- 
 grown beard, and, evidently distrusting my general vaga- 
 bondish appearance, replied to my application for a room: 
 ' ' We are all full. ' ' But he changed his tone at once when 
 I mentioned my name, and had me escorted to a good bed- 
 room on the top floor. My trunks were sent up nearly 
 eight months had gone by since I had locked them and 
 I once more enjoyed the long-missed luxury of a choice of 
 under- and upperwear. It was high time that I did, for 
 my Memphis outfit was fast giving out, and I had not been 
 out of my dust-crusted clothes for ten days. My first in- 
 dulgence was a hot bath, and the next a hearty supper, 
 followed by eleven hours' sleep.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 THE PERRYVILLE CAMPAIGN. 1862 
 
 NEXT morning I wrote up my notes made during the 
 march, and, after noon, set out in search of McCook 's 
 division, which I found encamped near the Jefferson ferry. 
 I also called on my Louisville friends and received a hearty 
 welcome from them. They expressed the intense anxiety 
 which the loyalists had undergone for a fortnight, owing 
 to the steady approach of Bragg 's army. Nor did they 
 feel at ease after our arrival, for they had lost all faith in 
 General Buell, and believed that he had been entirely out- 
 generalled by the rebel commander. In the course of the 
 evening, I learned from the chief of staff, Colonel Fry, 
 that the army was expected to move anew against Bragg 
 within a few days, which put an end to my plan of visit- 
 ing Cincinnati. 
 
 The invasion of Kentucky by Bragg 's army had been pre- 
 ceded in the middle of August by the advance from eastern 
 Tennessee into the State of a rebel force of about fifteen 
 thousand men under General Kirby Smith. Crossing the 
 Cumberland Mountains through two passes to the east 
 of Cumberland Gap, he had turned the Federal force of 
 about 10,000 men under General Morgan at the latter point 
 and moved unopposed toward the "Blue Grass" country. 
 About the same time, another rebel body, of aBout four 
 thousand, under General Humphrey Marshall (a member 
 of the prominent Kentucky family of the same name, who, 
 in spite of his very fat body, displayed great physical 
 energy and mobility), had entered the State from western 
 Virginia, seeking a junction with Kirby Smith. John Mor- 
 
 306
 
 1862] NELSON DEFEATED 307 
 
 gan, the notorious rebel raider, was also coursing again 
 through central Kentucky. 
 
 General Nelson, detached from his division by General 
 Buell and ordered to Kentucky to clear it of guerrillas and 
 raiders before Kirby Smith's appearance on the scene, 
 reported to Major- General Wright at Louisville, and was 
 sent by him at once to Lexington to take command of all 
 the troops in that vicinity. They consisted of about ten 
 infantry regiments from Indiana and Ohio and a Kentucky 
 cavalry regiment, most of them just organized, with per- 
 fectly raw officers and men, a large portion of whom were 
 going through their first drill. They numbered between 
 seven and eight thousand men. Kirby Smith reached their 
 advanced posts on August 29, and drove them and their 
 supports steadily before him upon the main body at Rich- 
 mond, some twenty miles south of Lexington. He attacked 
 the Unionists there with his whole force the next day, and, 
 after driving them from position to position, completely 
 overwhelmed them. The routed Federals lost nearly half 
 their number in killed, wounded, and prisoners, the remain- 
 der fleeing in the greatest disorder, and without stopping, 
 through Lexington to Louisville. This victory gave Kirby 
 Smith the choice of an unobstructed advance, either upon 
 Louisville or Cincinnati. He marched toward the latter 
 city, and came within six miles of the Ohio River. His 
 approach caused the greatest consternation, not only in 
 Cincinnati, but throughout Ohio and Indiana. Martial law 
 was proclaimed in the Queen City, and preparations pushed 
 night and day for her defence. 
 
 The indignation and rage of the Kentucky loyalists and 
 the authorities and people of the two other States over the 
 new rebel invasion was intense, and centred upon General 
 Buell. In the press and at public meetings he was de- 
 nounced, not only for his incapacity to cope with his rebel 
 adversaries, but for his alleged sympathy for the South 
 and consequent half-heartedness in waging war against it. 
 Hot demands for his removal were made upon the President
 
 308 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 and Secretary of War by the Governors and members of 
 Congress from the threatened States. The President re- 
 sisted till Buell was obliged to follow Bragg back to the 
 Ohio River, when he finally yielded to the rising pressure. 
 An order was delivered to General Buell, on the morning 
 after his arrival at Louisville, by a staff officer of General 
 Halleck sent especially for that purpose, requiring him 
 to turn his command over to General Thomas. General 
 Thomas simultaneously received an order to assume com- 
 mand, but immediately telegraphed a request to Wash- 
 ington that the orders be countermanded and that General 
 Buell be retained, to which the President assented. I 
 learned this portentous news about noon on the 29th, but, 
 secrecy being enjoined, I made no use of it. It became 
 known, of course, to the general officers under Buell, and 
 brought out divided opinions as to the justice and propriety, 
 in the then situation, of his removal. It naturally had the 
 effect of weakening his authority, and led, as I personally 
 had occasion to observe, to still louder criticism of him. 
 
 Owing not only to this surprise, but to a terrible tragedy 
 enacted almost under my eyes, September 29th will always 
 be literally a red-letter day in my recollection. I was just 
 finishing breakfast in the hotel dining-room on the ground 
 floor when I heard the sound of a shot coming from the 
 large entrance hall directly in front. I hurried out, and 
 learned to my horror that General Jefferson C. Davis had 
 shot General Nelson with a revolver, and that the victim 
 was being led to his room, toward which I hastened. He 
 was just able to reach it with the support of two friends, 
 only to sink on the bed with life fast ebbing away. The 
 bullet had penetrated the left breast near the heart. There 
 he lay, bodily a giant among men, reminding one of a dying 
 lion. A clerical friend of the General, who happened to be 
 in the hotel, appearing, I retired. In ten minutes death 
 ensued. This dreadful end was caused by Nelson's violent 
 temper. After the disaster at Lexington, he had been or- 
 dered by Major-General Wright to take charge of the de-
 
 1862] DEATH OF GENERAL NELSON 309 
 
 fence of Louisville. General Davis, who commanded one 
 of the divisions sent by General Grant to General Buell 
 but had been at home on sick-leave, on finding himself un- 
 able to join it, owing to the interruption of communications, 
 had reported a week before for duty to Nelson, who placed 
 him over a body of militia known as the "home guards." 
 Nelson was not satisfied with the way he filled this function, 
 relieved him from duty after a violent scene, and ordered 
 him to report to General Wright at Cincinnati. The lat- 
 ter sent him back to Louisville, where he had arrived the 
 day before. At the fatal moment, General Nelson was 
 standing with Governor Morton of Indiana in front of the 
 office counter, when General Davis approached and asked 
 him to apologize for his rude behavior when he removed 
 him from command. General Nelson refused to listen and 
 turned away. Davis, who was a small, frail-looking man, 
 followed him and insisted upon an apology. Nelson there- 
 upon called him a puppy and struck him in the face. Davis 
 at once went for a revolver, re-approached Nelson, and fired 
 it at a distance of only a few feet. That Nelson's conduct 
 was utterly unjustified and brutal, admits of no doubt. 
 Indeed, his excitable temper made him too often play the 
 part of a bully, although he was really good-natured and 
 kind-hearted. The awful event made a sensation in the 
 army and throughout the country, but Davis was released 
 from arrest without a trial. 
 
 General Buell found a motley mass of about twenty 
 thousand officers and men at Louisville, consisting of newly 
 organized regiments from several Western States, of men 
 discharged from hospitals or returning from furloughs and 
 trying to reach their commands. There was great need of 
 this accession of force. For, in truth, not a single regiment 
 in his army had more than half of the officers and men on its 
 muster-rolls present for duty, while a number had not more 
 than one-third. The causes of this depletion were disease, 
 straggling, desertion (very few to the enemy, but many to 
 Northern homes), and the furloughing which was prac-
 
 310 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 tised to a most reprehensible extent by regimental and 
 company commanders. Aspiring local politicians, as so 
 many of them were, they were afraid to refuse strongly 
 backed applications for leave. Moreover, incredible as it 
 may sound, thousands of furloughs were granted, at the in- 
 stance of political leaders and with the approval of the 
 Washington authorities, in order to assure satisfactory re- 
 sults in State, Congressional, and county elections. Heavy 
 drafts for voting purposes had been especially made on the 
 Army of the Ohio in order to defeat the dangerous and 
 rising "copperheadism" (the telling generic term applied 
 to disloyalty throughout the North) in Indiana and Ohio. 
 The aggregate effect of these several sappings of the 
 strength of the army was, that General Buell reached Louis- 
 ville with only between 37,000 and 40,000 effectives. Under 
 the circumstances, it was the part of prudence not to at- 
 tempt to form new organizations out of the new troops he 
 found gathered in the city, but to strengthen existing ones 
 with them. Nor was any other course practicable. They 
 were mostly raw, undrilled, undisciplined, and not even 
 all armed, and there were not enough experienced officers to 
 command them. 
 
 For once, not a moment of time was lost in preparing for 
 the new offensive campaign. Under the spur of threatened 
 removal and disgrace, General Buell devoted night and day 
 to the arduous work of reorganizing the army and supply- 
 ing it with food, forage, and ammunition, and re-clothing 
 the older troops. He allowed only the last three days of 
 the month for this heavy task. Three army corps were 
 formed, consisting of three divisions each: the first com- 
 manded by General McCook, the second by General Crit- 
 tenden, and the third by General Gilbert, a newcomer, the 
 singular circumstances of whose appearance will be toJd 
 later on. The new regiments were distributed among the 
 three corps, bringing their aggregate strength up to 58,000 
 effectives of all arms. The march from Louisville was 
 commenced on October 1. Owing to the shortness of time,
 
 1862] ADVANCE AGAINST BRAGG 311 
 
 it had been impossible, notwithstanding the most strenuous 
 efforts, to issue a full supply of clothing and footwear and 
 canteens and haversacks to all the troops that needed them. 
 The army moved in the lightest marching order. No bag- 
 gage was allowed to be taken along, for either officers or 
 men, and I set out with a roll of blankets strapped to my 
 horse and one change of underclothing and toilet utensils 
 in my saddle-bags. Only one wagon per regiment was al- 
 lowed for officers' blankets and rations, and one other for 
 cooking-utensils for the rank and file. 
 
 I obtained leave to accompany General McCook and staff 
 again. I naturally felt most at home there, and should 
 have better facilities for my work than before, owing to 
 the higher command of the General. Our corps formed 
 the left wing of the army. On leaving Louisville it divided. 
 The second division, now commanded by General Sill, took 
 the road to Frankfort, while the third, under General Rous- 
 seau, and the tenth, under General Jackson, consisting 
 mainly of new regiments, with the corps headquarters, took 
 the road to Bardstown. After following this for six miles, 
 we took another, bearing to the left toward Taylorsville. 
 We camped for the night, after marching about twenty 
 miles. The next day we reached Taylorsville on the Salt 
 River. Despite the fall season, a July heat prevailed, the 
 roads were dusty, and water was scarce, owing to the ex- 
 tremely dry summer. We rested at Taylorsville on the 
 3d, and the next continued on to the town of Bloom- 
 field, where we bivouacked for two days. On the 6th, we 
 made a short march of seven miles to the Chaplin River, 
 and on the 7th we pushed a few miles further on to Mack- 
 ville. Thanks to the kindness of my friends of General 
 McCook 's staff, I slept in houses every night but one, and 
 had enough to eat. The unseasonable heat and constant 
 dust on the road were as trying to me as to everybody else. 
 
 We knew we were nearing the enemy, Bragg 's main 
 force, and advanced cautiously, with flankers and skirmish- 
 ers thrown out. From the 2d, the latter came in touch
 
 312 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 with detachments of rebel cavalry and artillery, and fre- 
 quently exchanged shots with them as they fell back. 
 About two in the morning of the 8th, our headquarters 
 were roused by an order from General Buell to move the 
 corps at 3 A.M. to a position near Perryville. The Com- 
 mander-in-chief had discovered, through a reconnoissance 
 in force, that the enemy was in great strength between him 
 and Perryville and evidently forming for battle, and he took 
 his measures accordingly to get the three corps into a strong 
 connected line during the night. Owing to the darkness, 
 it was impossible to get the order distributed and the divi- 
 sions under way before 5 A.M. Shortly afterward, we heard 
 the continuous booming of artillery, which electrified the 
 troops being the first real sound of battle we had heard 
 since Corinth and quickened our movements. The ground 
 on which the two divisions (the third had not yet re- 
 joined the corps) were to form a line, about three miles 
 northeast of Perryville, was reached between 10 and 11 
 A.M. We found troops of Gilbert 's corps already there, and 
 proceeded to select a line starting from its left. Everybody 
 expected hard fighting. The day was to be, indeed, a most 
 bloody one for McCook's command. The troops could not 
 be said to be in good fighting condition. For several days 
 men and animals had suffered severely from heat and dust, 
 and, most of all, from the scarcity of water; on the 7th, 
 hardly any was obtained. The line of battle crossed Doc- 
 tor's Creek, a tributary of Chaplin River, but it contained 
 water only in pools, access to which the rebels were evi- 
 dently bent on preventing. 
 
 It appears from the official rebel reports that Bragg 's 
 reason for turning, as already mentioned, from the direct 
 route to Louisville towards Bardstown, in an easterly direc- 
 tion, was that Kirby Smith's corps was unable to join him 
 for a direct movement on the city, and that he did not 
 feel strong enough alone to attempt its capture with Buell 
 at his heels. Smith's force had been sent off for a vain 
 effort to intercept the command of the Union General Mor-
 
 1862] SHORT-LIVED REBEL GOVERNMENT 313 
 
 gan, in its retreat from Cumberland Gap to the Ohio River 
 through eastern Kentucky. Bragg 'moved leisurely into 
 the Blue Grass region with the triple object of feeding 
 his hungry troops on the abundance of that fat land, 
 of awaiting the return of Kirby Smith's command, and of 
 installing at Frankfort, the capital, the so-called "pro- 
 visional government" for the State that had been organized 
 by local rebels since his appearance in it. The inaugura- 
 tion proved a great farce. It took place at the State 
 capitol in the presence of Bragg and many rebel generals 
 and other officers, on October 4, but the new Governor 
 sought safety in retreat immediately after the ceremony, 
 in company with Bragg, on learning of the rapid approach 
 of the Union army. According to Bragg 's account, one of 
 the leading motives of his movement into Kentucky was the 
 strong assurance of leading rebel sympathizers that the 
 people would rise in a body to welcome their Southern 
 brethren as liberators from the Northern yoke. Utter dis- 
 appointment awaited him in this respect. As he said in 
 his report to the Richmond War Department: "The cam- 
 paign here was predicated on a belief and the most positive 
 assurances that the people of Kentucky would rise in mass 
 and assert their independence. No people ever had so fa- 
 vorable an opportunity, but I am distressed to add there 
 was little or no disposition to avail of it." 
 
 Bragg was evidently surprised by Buell's early start 
 from Louisville against him, of which he claims to .have 
 had information on October 2. On that day he sent orders 
 to General Polk to move from Bardstown toward Frank- 
 fort and strike Buell in flank and rear, and General Kirby 
 Smith was ordered at the same time to make a front attack. 
 General Polk submitted his orders to a council of generals, 
 who agreed with him that they could not be executed, and, 
 accordingly, they were not. On being informed of this, 
 Bragg countermanded his order to General Smith, and de- 
 cided to effect a concentration of his forces further south. 
 The action of General Polk led subsequently to an angry
 
 314 HENRY VILLARD [18G2 
 
 controversy between him and the generals who had sup- 
 ported him, and General Bragg ; the latter contending that, 
 but for this disobedience of his orders, Buell's whole army 
 would surely have been beaten in detail. Having been in- 
 formed in the meantime that the Union army was still ad- 
 vancing in three separate columns over as many different 
 roads, he thought there was another opportunity to try the 
 same game that Polk had failed to carry out. On October 
 6 he issued orders to Polk to attack the Union right, and, 
 after overwhelming it, to join Smith in disposing of the 
 hostile centre and left. Thus was brought on the collision 
 known as the battle of "Perryville" or "Chaplin Hills." 
 
 The field of action lay mainly in the angle formed by 
 Chaplin River and Doctor's Creek. It consisted of rolling 
 ground, with undulations here and there, high enough to 
 be called "hills," the summits of which commanded wide 
 views. On one of these, McCook's corps headquarters were 
 established. In the clear sunlight we looked upon an at- 
 tractive and diversified scene of numerous farm-houses 
 rising from large fields of ripe corn, alternating with more 
 or less extensive patches of timber. The sight was literally 
 one of peace and plenty alas ! to be instantly exchanged for 
 the roar and carnage of battle. 
 
 As mentioned, we heard the sounds of fighting as we 
 moved towards our position on the morning of the 8th. 
 They were due to a lively skirmish between Colonel Daniel 
 McCook's (a brother of General McCook) brigade of Gen- 
 eral Sheridan's division of Gilbert's corps and the advance 
 of the enemy. Sheridan had reached the ground late on the 
 preceding evening and had ordered Colonel McCook to 
 occupy the height on the east side of Doctor's Creek, so 
 as to command what water there was in it. The hill was in 
 possession of the rebels, who resisted stubbornly, but finally 
 yielded after a lively exchange of musketry and artillery 
 fire. During the early forenoon the reenforced enemy tried 
 to retake the position, but gave it up after a protracted ar- 
 tillery practice.
 
 1862] IN TOUCH WITH ENEMY 315 
 
 On reaching the ground, General McCook assigned Gen- 
 eral Rousseau's division to a position connecting with Gil- 
 bert's left, and ordered a line of skirmishers to be thrown 
 forward to examine the woods on his left and front. He 
 also sent an aide to General Jackson, and, in compliance 
 with orders, galloped off to report in person to General 
 Buell, whose headquarters were about two and a half miles 
 to the rear, near Gilbert's left. The Commander-in-chief 
 had had a severe fall from his horse two days before and 
 could not move about, and this circumstance had an unfor- 
 tunate bearing upon the fate of the day. McCook was 
 verbally directed to make a reconnoissance towards the 
 Chaplin River, and rode back at once to execute it. As 
 Buell himself says, in his official report, he had rather ex- 
 pected an attack on Gilbert's corps early in the morning, 
 when it was still alone on the ground; but, none having 
 been made and McCook being now also in position, he did 
 not believe that the enemy would make an offensive attempt 
 during the remainder of the day. 
 
 I remained with General Rousseau during the absence 
 of General McCook. The "feeling" for the enemy not hav- 
 ing discovered him in front, Rousseau decided to move 
 his line forward nearer to the Chaplin River, so as to pro- 
 cure water for the parched throats of his men. After 
 moving about half a mile, we stopped, as there were re- 
 newed indications of the appearance of the enemy in the 
 woods in front of us. Rousseau rode forward some dis- 
 tance to reconnoitre ; I followed him and shared his expe- 
 rience during the following dreadful hours. We saw 
 directly a moving rebel force. In a few minutes its ap- 
 proach was signalled by the sudden opening of a rain of 
 shells, apparently from several massed batteries, upon us. 
 The General at once ordered two of his batteries to return 
 the fire. Thereupon, at least twenty-four guns sent whizzing 
 and exploding missiles at each other by and over us as a 
 roaring prelude to the sanguinary battle that was thus be- 
 gun at about 1 : 30 P.M.
 
 316 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 Messengers from our cavalry pickets and skirmish line 
 now reported the approach of heavy columns of rebel in- 
 fantry and artillery. Rousseau at once rode back to pre- 
 pare for the shock. To his right brigade, Colonel Lytle's, 
 he sent orders by an aide. The centre and left brigades, 
 under Colonels Harris and Starkweather, he put in posi- 
 tion himself. He caused two batteries to be so stationed 
 on adjacent heights as to give a cross fire upon the advanc- 
 ing enemy. These dispositions having been made, we hur- 
 ried back from the left to the centre of the division, which, 
 we could clearly see, a mighty rebel column was about to 
 strike. 
 
 Meantime, General McCook, finding Rousseau's line ad- 
 vanced when he reached the front again, had ordered part 
 of the 33d Ohio regiment of Harris's brigade as skir- 
 mishers into the woods before its line, and then hastened 
 to find General Jackson, his other division commander, to 
 direct him to make his line conform to Rousseau 's. Hearing 
 musketry fire from the woods mentioned, he galloped back 
 to Harris's front, and ordered the remainder of the 33d 
 Ohio and the 2d Ohio to the support of the skirmishers. 
 Thus Rousseau found part of his centre engaged on his 
 return from the left. The formidable proportions of the 
 rebel attack being now fully developed, he led another of 
 Harris's regiments, the 24th Illinois, forward in person, 
 in line of battle, till it reached the left of the 33d Ohio. 
 I followed him and soon heard the whistling of bullets, first 
 scatteringly and then continuously about us. Just then 
 we were shocked by an ill-boding sight on our left. An- 
 other rebel column had pushed obliquely, like a wedge, 
 against the right of Jackson's division, consisting of a bri- 
 gade of raw men. The sheets of fire and hail of lead which 
 rapidly burst forth from it on coming within firing dis- 
 tance were too much for the Federals. We plainly saw 
 the brigade break and fly rearward in utter confusion, 
 drawing the other brigade with them. The panic was due 
 in part to the killing of General Jackson by the first rebel
 
 1862] BATTLE OF PERRYVILLE 317 
 
 volley. Here was another striking reminder of Bull Run 
 and Pittsburg Landing. The direction from which this 
 terrible assault had come, made it clear that the enemy's 
 plan was to roll up our line from left to right, and he had 
 certainly begun its execution most threateningly. 
 
 Leaving Colonel Harris to lead his two remaining regi- 
 ments, the 38th Indiana and 94th Illinois, to the support of 
 the three already under fire, Rousseau galloped once more to 
 his left, now imperilled by Jackson's disaster. Colonel 
 Starkweather was ordered to open an enfilading fire with his 
 two batteries, which was done promptly, but did not at 
 first check the advancing enemy, who, despite the gaps torn 
 through their ranks by our shot and shell, approached 
 steadily, loading and discharging volley after volley from 
 their small arms while advancing. At this stage of the com- 
 bat, an incident happened that has always remained fresh in 
 my mind. The 1st Wisconsin Infantry, although already 
 within range of the rebel musketry and losing officers and 
 men, when they recognized General Rousseau stuck their 
 caps on their swords and bayonets, and, waving their 
 arms over their heads, broke out into rousing cheers for him 
 and shouts of defiance at the enemy. Rousseau, feeling 
 that he was defending the key of our position and that the 
 fate of the corps, and even of the army, would turn upon 
 his successful resistance, remained close to the scene of this 
 struggle. I dismounted and watched the course of the 
 fighting for over an hour. The atmosphere was so clear 
 and the sun shone so brightly that, barring momentary 
 obscuration by the powder smoke, every move of assailants 
 and assailed could be clearly perceived with the naked eye 
 or the field-glass from the commanding point where we 
 stood. We could see the victims drop, seemingly by the 
 scores, on both sides, under the effect of the rapid exchange 
 of volleys by regiments. Soon the flow of wounded to the 
 rear indicated the severity of our losses. We could trace 
 distinctly our shot and shells as they tore gaps through the 
 rebel ranks, while the hostile missiles whirled past or burst
 
 318 HENRY VILLAED [1862 
 
 above us. We were so near that we heard the peculiar 
 pattering noise of falling bullets. We were all struck with 
 the desperate valor of the rebels. Led by mounted officers, 
 their broad columns came to the attack in quick movement 
 and with death-defying steadiness, uttering wild yells, till, 
 staggered by the sweeping' cross-fire of our artillery and the 
 volleys from Starkweather's regiments, they fell back to 
 the shelter of corn-fields and breaks of the ground. But 
 again and again, with revived pluck, they returned to the 
 charge, to be again checked by our batteries and steadfast 
 infantry. Gradually they gained ground, however, and the 
 fire of their guns and musketry grew hotter and hotter. 
 Still our line stood, and every once in a while a cheer arose 
 from it above the din of battle. Towards four o'clock, 
 the report came that the ammunition of our men was giv- 
 ing out, and that they were reduced to what they took 
 from the cartridge-boxes of their dead and wounded com- 
 rades. When this was exhausted, they stood receiving fire 
 without being able to return it. Then, owing to what had 
 happened to the centre and right of the division, an order 
 reached them to fall back to the position first assigned to 
 them in the morning by General McCook. The brigade left 
 one-third of their number in killed and wounded on the 
 field. Its two batteries were brought off, although one of 
 them had had nearly all its horses killed. 
 
 About the hour named, a message reached Rousseau ask- 
 ing him to meet General McCook at a farm-house in the 
 rear of the centre of the corps. Being anxious to learn 
 the course of the action in other parts of the field, and 
 feeling very hungry and thirsty, and hoping to find some- 
 thing to eat and drink not a swallow of water or any- 
 thing else had passed my lips all day I galloped there with 
 him. On reaching the house, we discovered that General 
 McCook had left, as the enemy, having worked around our 
 right, had planted a battery directly in line of the house 
 and was shelling it furiously. We had instant proof that it 
 was a most dangerous place, since four shells exploded
 
 1862] BATTLE OF PERRYVILLE 319 
 
 at once above us as we halted in front of it. The location 
 of this hostile battery made Rousseau anxious for the 
 safety of his right and centre, and he determined to return 
 at once to his front, and sent word to that effect to Gen- 
 eral McCook by an orderly, whom I concluded to accom- 
 pany. 
 
 We found the corps commander some distance further 
 to the rear, in a very excited and perturbed state of mind, 
 as he well might be in the awful predicament of finding 
 himself on the verge of a complete rout of his corps. His 
 chief -of -staff told me hurriedly that the whole corps had 
 been assailed by overwhelming numbers, that the centre 
 was being forced back and the right turned, that appeals 
 for aid had been made more than an hour before through 
 staff officers to the nearest division commander of General 
 Gilbert's corps, but that no reinforcements had yet ap- 
 peared, and that there was imminent danger of a disaster. 
 I further learned that the General and staff had been sep- 
 arated from the corps headquarters since his visit to Buell. 
 It turned out that, owing to the general retrograde move- 
 ment of the corps, the vehicles attached to it had fallen 
 into the hands of the enemy, including the mess-wagon and 
 the field-carriage with the general's and staff's papers and 
 baggage, and my own saddle-bags containing my toilet 
 utensils and changes of underclothing. Owing to this mis- 
 hap, I got no food, but only a mouthful of brandy and 
 water from the flask of an aide-de-camp. 
 
 I have told in the foregoing what I saw myself of the 
 action. The following narrative of the other occurrences 
 of the day is taken mainly from my report of the battle 
 to the New York Tribune, which was made up at the time 
 from accounts of eye and ear witnesses. 
 
 The enemy, intent upon rolling up the line of McCook 's 
 corps from left to right, and having made no further 
 progress against the left after their first success in driving 
 Jackson's division from its position, next tried to break 
 the centre. But Harris's brigade, as well as Stark-
 
 320 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 weather's, withstood their repeated, determined onsets in 
 great force. They also held their ground firmly until after 
 all the cartridge-boxes of the living and dead and wounded 
 had been emptied, and withdrew only when the rest of our 
 line fell back. The brigade on the right, under Colonel 
 Lytle, was assailed at the same time and as vigorously as 
 the centre. It succeeded, however, in repulsing every front 
 attack up to between four and five o'clock, when a strong 
 column of the enemy, concealed by the undulations of the 
 ground, managed to pass around its right, and suddenly, 
 almost without warning, fell upon the flank and rear of 
 the brigade and drove it before them in much disorder. 
 Colonel Lytle was severely wounded and taken prisoner. 
 This turning movement would not have been possible if 
 General Gilbert had not ordered General Sheridan to fall 
 back for half a mile from the position Colonel David Mc- 
 Cook's brigade had wrested from the enemy in the morn- 
 ing, in which it had connected with Lytle 's right. The 
 rebel success involved the gravest peril to McCook's whole 
 corps indeed, threatened it with utter defeat and destruc- 
 tion. This calamity would surely have befallen it had 
 not, at the critical moment, the rebel move against Lytle 
 been arrested by counter-attacks from Gilbert's corps. 
 How this came about will best appear from the following 
 extract from my account of the battle in the Tribune: 
 
 General McCook states that at 3 P.M. he dispatched Captain 
 Horace W. Fisher of his staff to the nearest commander of troops 
 for assistance. He first met General Schoepf marching at the 
 head of his division, and reported his condition to him. General 
 Schoepf expressed a desire to act at once, as he was moving to 
 the front under orders for that same purpose. He requested 
 Captain Fisher to see General Gilbert, the commander of the corps, 
 who was riding with the column. Gilbert said that he was very 
 sorry to learn that General McCook was in so pressed a condition, 
 but that he could not send him reinforcements without special 
 orders from General BuelL Owing to the delay in first hunting 
 for General Gilbert and next in finding General Buell, the aide-de-
 
 1862] BATTLE OF PERRYVILLE 321 
 
 camp did not succeed in reporting the precarious plight of the first 
 corps to the latter until nearly four o'clock. General Buell stepped 
 out of his tent, held his ear towards the scene of action, listened for 
 a few moments, and then, turning sharply to Captain Fisher, ex- 
 claimed: "Captain, you must be mistaken. I cannot hear any 
 sound of musketry. There cannot be any serious engagement." 
 
 Captain Fisher thus returned without any assurance of reinforce- 
 ments. Shortly after he had left the army headquarters, however, 
 General Buell concluded, after all, to inquire into the alleged " seri- 
 ous engagement," and sent Major Wright of his staff to ascertain 
 whether General McCook really needed assistance and to direct 
 General Gilbert to furnish it. But the latter had already acted 
 before the Major reached him, in response to another and more 
 urgent appeal from McCook through another staff officer, and 
 ordered Colonel Gooding's brigade of General Mitchell's division 
 with the Fifth Wisconsin battery to the relief of Rousseau. When 
 he received Buell's order, he sent another brigade of Schoepf s divis- 
 ion forward for the same purpose. Gooding's brigade tried to come in 
 touch with Rousseau's retreating right, but failed to do so owing to 
 the remnants of Lytle's brigade having fallen back nearly a mile 
 before rallying, and became hotly engaged with the enemy. It 
 was assailed by far superior numbers, but withstood until nearly 
 dark, when, finding itself unsupported on either side, it fell back 
 upon the corps line after losing over five hundred in killed and 
 wounded out of a total of only 1423 engaged. Its commander had 
 his horse shot under him and fell into the hands of the enemy. 
 
 The reinforcing brigade under General Steedman from 
 Schoepf 's division arrived on the field at dark, too late to 
 do any good. 
 
 Simultaneously with the turning movement around 
 Lytle's right, part of the rebel forces again attacked 
 Colonel McCook 's brigade, on Sheridan's left, in order to 
 dislodge Hiscock's large battery of Parrott guns that was 
 directing an effective enfilading fire from a very advan- 
 tageous position upon the hostile infantry and batteries. 
 But McCook 's men repelled the two onsets. General Sheri- 
 dan and Colonel McCook from their standpoint clearly 
 observed the course of the rebel flanking column, and un- 
 21
 
 322 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 derstood the danger it Brought to McCook's corps. As 
 it passed along their front, they were eager to strike it in 
 the flank, which they could have done most effectively, but 
 they were held back by orders from General Gilbert, and 
 chafed in vain at the loss of this fine chance of changing 
 the fortunes of the day. It is easy to comprehend the bit- 
 terness and pain that Colonel McCook and his younger 
 brother John felt, as they saw their brother's command 
 apparently doomed, without being permitted to help him. 
 The older brother did not hesitate, during and after the 
 battle, to proclaim loudly that the flanking operation was 
 invited and made practicable by their change of position 
 under the orders of Gilbert. 
 
 The rebel wave that had swept away Lytle and struck 
 Gooding was, however, stayed and forced back during the 
 last hour of daylight. Having passed by Sheridan and 
 reached Mitchell's 1 front with their left and rear fully 
 exposed, the latter division commander, not being under 
 restraining orders, seized the opportunity and ordered 
 Colonel Carlin to attack the enemy with his brigade. Carlin 
 (a regular-army officer, who subsequently distinguished 
 himself as a cavalry commander) immediately moved for- 
 ward, and, reaching the brow of a hill, discovered the rebels 
 directly before him. He formed his brigade and led a 
 charge at the double quick with enthusiastic cheers, and 
 succeeded, after a short resistance of the enemy, in break- 
 ing through his line. The rebels broke and fled in con- 
 fusion, Carlin following them for nearly two miles to and 
 through the town of Perryville, and then, retracing his steps 
 to the field of action, captured close to the town a heavy 
 ammunition train with its guard of 150 officers and men. 
 This was the last incident of the sanguinary day. Night- 
 fall put an end to hostilities on both sides. 
 
 The result of the day was unquestionably a decided rebel 
 success. The enemy had driven McCook's whole line back 
 from a mile and a half to two miles, and inflicted a loss 
 of 39 officers and 806 men killed, 94 officers and 2757 men
 
 1862] BATTLE OF PERRYVILLE 323 
 
 wounded, and 515 missing a total of 4211, of which the 
 First Corps alone lost 29 officers and 643 men killed, 66 
 officers and 2136 men wounded, and 425 missing a total 
 of 3299, or more than three-quarters of the entire loss. 
 Eleven guns and much booty were also taken by the rebels 
 from the corps. This is sufficient proof that McCook's 
 command bore the brunt of the fight. In fact, it fought 
 the battle. Rousseau's division had 7000, Jackson's 5500 
 effectives. The greater portion of the latter were stampeded, 
 as we have seen, at the beginning of the battle, so that 
 hardly more than 9000 men remained fighting in line, to 
 which, towards the close, Gooding's 1400 and Carlin's 2000 
 were added. As usual, both the Union and Confederate 
 commanders, in their official reports, claim to have been 
 attacked by from two to three and four times the num- 
 ber of their troops. Bragg 's official account proves that 
 the rebels had only three divisions of infantry with about 
 14,500 effectives engaged. But, as their attacks were 
 made in massed bodies of two or three brigades against 
 certain points of our line, there was good ground for 
 saying that the assailants attacked with greatly superior 
 numbers. 
 
 It is the simple truth that to the "daring charges" of 
 his infantry, as General Bragg justly calls them, the tri- 
 umph of the rebel arms was due. But it is equally true 
 that their commanders ran the greatest risk in acting on 
 the assumption that only one Federal corps was confronting 
 them, and that they owed their escape from the severest 
 punishment for this hardihood to faults of omission and 
 commission on our side. The enemy rushed, in unconscious 
 recklessness, into the trap which the convergence of our 
 three corps upon Perryville really formed for him, and 
 he owed it partly to accident and partly to our mistakes 
 and blunders that it was not sprung on him. It is enough 
 to state the astounding fact that not far from forty thou- 
 sand muskets and some eighty pieces of artillery of our 
 army never fired a shot during the whole day. We had,
 
 324 HENRY VILLARD [18G2 
 
 indeed, such an abundance of forces gathered so near to 
 Perryville that, had there been but a proper perception 
 of our opportunity and promptness and energy in availing 
 of it, the enemy would have been entirely enveloped and 
 crushed. We had five-sixths of Gilbert's and the whole 
 of Crittenden's corps intact for that purpose. That, in- 
 stead, we were badly beaten in part was clearly attributable, 
 first, to the fall and hurt of General Buell, which prevented 
 him from having personal cognizance of the situation at 
 the front and taking prompt action accordingly; second, 
 to his unwillingness to accept the assurance of General 
 McCook's aide-de-camp that a serious engagement was in 
 progress, and consequent delay in ordering support to 
 the First Corps; third, to the inexperience and incapacity 
 of General Gilbert. This officer, a captain in the regular 
 army, appeared in the part of a corps commander literally 
 without ever having led any troops not as much as a com- 
 panyunder fire, and, strangest of all, without the shadow 
 of a real title to his rank, as is shown by another quotation 
 from my reports to the Tribune: 
 
 I must record a singular discovery regarding General Gilbert. 
 Soon after the battle, General Rousseau heard some rumors of 
 doubts relative to the former's actual rank, and addressed a 
 letter of inquiry upon the subject to General Buell, who sent it 
 to General Gilbert The latter wrote on the back of it: "I am 
 a major-general by the appointment of Major-General Wright." 
 General Wright, the military Department Commander for Ohio and 
 Kentucky previous to the return of General Buell to Louisville, of 
 course had not the remotest authority to issue commissions or con- 
 fer rank. Here was the startling revelation, which excited the 
 utmost astonishment in Buell himself, that a mere pretender or 
 impostor had exercised the next highest function of command, to 
 the all but fatal detriment of the whole army. Naturally, the dis- 
 closure greatly intensified the indignation and disgnst of the com- 
 manders under him and under McCook at his failure to relieve the 
 First Corps and to seize the chance, plainly within his grasp, to 
 turn our defeat into a rout of the enemy.
 
 1862] BATTLE OF PEERYVILLE 325 
 
 The command of the corps was soon after taken from 
 him. Brief as his career had been, he succeeded not only 
 in proving his incompetency to command, but in incurring 
 the hatred of his subordinates generally, for he lowered 
 himself by abusing officers, whipping teamsters and soldiers, 
 and by other brutal interferences in matters beneath his 
 station. 
 
 In closing my description of the battle, I deem it my 
 duty to state that, while I was writing it in the spring 
 of 1896 nearly thirty-four years after the event the 
 curious fact was discovered that General Buell was in- 
 formed, by signal message, as early as 2 p. M., of the rebel 
 attack in force upon General McCook's division. The dis- 
 covery rests on the evidence of the signal-officer who re- 
 ceived the message. 
 
 I have to own that, before the firing had ceased alto- 
 gether, my appetite got the better of my sense of duty and 
 my interest in the battle, and I set out in search of 
 food and drink for myself and horse. Knowing that Buell 's 
 headquarters had been stationary all day, I felt sure that 
 my needs could be satisfied there. I found them, after some 
 wandering, at about seven o'clock. Colonel Fry, on my 
 supplication, readily agreed to take care of me, and I was 
 soon devouring a cold supper. My own and my animal's 
 condition may be judged from the fact that I had been 
 in the saddle since three in the morning, less two hours 
 at the most, and had had nothing but a cup of coffee and 
 some hard-tack at that hour. The horse had had no food 
 or water for a whole day, and an orderly had to take him 
 a quarter of a mile for a chance to drink. The Colonel 
 secured me a nook in a tent occupied by staff officers for 
 a resting-place, and a blanket to wrap up in. An almost 
 full moon had arisen and lighted up the field very brightly, 
 but my own and my quadruped 's fatigue was too great for 
 another effort, and I remained at headquarters. 
 
 General Buell now clearly understood the situation in 
 which the events of the day had left his army, and decided
 
 326 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 to make a general attack on the enemy at daylight. Dis- 
 positions for that purpose were made during the night. 
 The corps commanders were sent for to receive their in- 
 structions, and remained in consultation with the General- 
 in-chief till after midnight. The army hardly got any 
 sleep. All the troops at the front were kept moving into 
 proper positions for the onset in the morning. The gather- 
 ing of our wounded was also continued all night. Being 
 fully informed as to the programme for the morrow, and 
 having arranged to be called at four, I sought sleep early. 
 
 When I was aroused at four, I found that nobody else 
 at headquarters had slept. A light breakfast was ready, 
 at which I learned from the staff that, since one o'clock, 
 several reports had come in from our picket-lines that con- 
 tinuous noises had been heard, indicating the movement 
 of artillery and trains and a general retreat of the enemy. 
 Naturally, this was not considered satisfactory news. It 
 was confirmed between six and seven by the forward move- 
 ment of the corps of Crittenden and Gilbert, which were 
 to attack the enemy's front and left, while McCook re- 
 mained in reserve. They met no resistance, and fully de- 
 veloped the fact that the whole rebel army had disappeared 
 from our front. They left behind all their dead and 
 severely wounded, and all the captured pieces of artillery 
 but two, and about fifteen hundred of our small arms which 
 they had collected. 
 
 General Buell was greatly disappointed, as he had con- 
 fidently held to the opinion, based on his overestimate of 
 the rebel strength and on the theory that Bragg had to 
 await the approach of Kirby Smith's force, that the rebels 
 would stand and fight. He was so satisfied of this that 
 he would not entertain a suggestion made by General Crit- 
 tenden to swing his corps around on its left during the 
 night, so as to bring it across Bragg 's only line of retreat. 
 Buell did not think, however, that the rebel move meant 
 an abandonment of Kentucky, but simply a falling back 
 to another position with a view to facilitating the junction
 
 1862] HORROES OF THE BATTLEFIELD 327 
 
 with Smith. This wrong supposition led him, after cross- 
 ing the Chaplin River, instead of undertaking at once an 
 energetic pursuit, to get his army into a favorable posi- 
 tion just beyond Perryville and there await the arrival of 
 General Sill's division, which took place only on the third 
 day after the battle. 
 
 I spent the morning of the 9th in writing my first ac- 
 count of the battle, which a surgeon in charge of an ambu- 
 lance train of wounded bound for Louisville promised to 
 mail at the first railroad station, and devoted the afternoon 
 to a ride over the entire battle-field. I could easily trace 
 the course of the action by the ghastly lines of dead and 
 severely wounded from the points of the first rebel attacks 
 to where they stopped in the evening. On our side, most 
 of the victims lay in rows along our front, where the most 
 vigorous defence was made. Along Jackson's line, the 
 casualties had obviously been few, showing that most of 
 his division had sought safety in flight. The number of 
 the fallen was greatest along Starkweather's brigade, while 
 Harris's and Ly tie's losses appeared to be about even. 
 Nearly all our wounded had been removed either during 
 the action or at night. The direction of the rebel advances 
 was literally marked by trails of blood from a quarter to 
 half a mile long. I counted over five hundred of their 
 dead. Most of them appeared to have been killed instantly 
 by bullets and artillery fire; but many showed by their 
 distorted features that they had passed through more or 
 less prolonged agonies. I found some two score that had 
 been struck and mutilated by cannon-balls and shells- 
 some with upper and lower limbs torn off, others with 
 chest and abdomen laid open, and one with his entire 
 and another with half his head gone. Our sanitary corps 
 was at work gathering up the hundreds of wounded the 
 enemy had mercilessly left on the field. These had suffered 
 indescribably since they fell, from pain, cold, and want of 
 food and water. The hopeless cases were left to die where 
 
 they lay, and I passed dozens of them writhing in the last 
 

 
 328 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 agony. The track of slaughter formed awful proof of the 
 blind heroism, born of fanatical devotion to their bad cause, 
 with which the rebels faced yea, courted death. At 
 three points I found, in spaces not over five hundred feet 
 long and wide, successive swaths of from twenty to fifty 
 bodies, cut down by our small arms and batteries, showing 
 that the most murderous fire did not stop them. Altogether, 
 the sights formed as horrifying a spectacle as those on the 
 field of Shiloh. 
 
 I devoted the 10th to visits to General Rousseau and the 
 headquarters of General Crittenden and his division com- 
 manders. All the generals I saw expressed their great dis- 
 appointment and humiliation at the unsatisfactory results, 
 so far, of the operations of the army since it turned north 
 from Nashville. Several of them charged Bragg 's escape 
 without severe punishment directly to mismanagement. 
 The belief was very general that he would not fight again 
 in Kentucky. One of the bitterest talkers was General 
 Rousseau. He denounced General Gilbert without stint 
 for failing to support McCook in the battle. Rousseau, 
 a lawyer and politician at Louisville when the war broke 
 out, an ardent loyalist, and one of the first to raise volun- 
 teers in Kentucky for the Union cause, was considered at 
 first a "political" general and did not stand very high with 
 trained military men. But active service in the field had 
 rapidly made him a true soldier and able commander. He 
 manifested great courage at Shiloh, and his conduct in this 
 battle was certainly admirable. His fearlessness under fire 
 shone out all the afternoon. He was middle-aged, of tall, 
 full stature, with fine manly face, and presented a com- 
 manding, martial appearance, especially on horseback. 
 
 I also had an hour with Colonel Daniel McCook, whose 
 acquaintance I had made during my stay at Leavenworth 
 in the spring of 1859, where he was practising law. Like 
 all the McCooks, he was of a very genial, frank, and yet 
 resolute nature. Like his father and his eldest brother, 
 he was doomed to lose his life in the service of his country.
 
 1862] IN PURSUIT OF BRAGG 329 
 
 He fell in Sherman's Atlanta campaign. In his anxiety 
 for the reputation of his brother, the General, he fairly 
 boiled with indignation at the derelictions of Buell and 
 Gilbert. He conducted me to the several positions occu- 
 pied during the conflict, and demonstrated how, on the one 
 hand, the falling back from the position taken from the 
 rebels early in the morning had left Kousseau 's right unpro- 
 tected, and how, on the other, the rebel turning movement 
 might have been used to our advantage by falling upon 
 their flank and rear. He took me to the headquarters of 
 General Sheridan, with whom I had a long talk. I had 
 met him casually more than once during the Corinth cam- 
 paign as Colonel of the 2d Michigan Cavalry. Up to that 
 time, his army record did not indicate the brilliant future 
 before him. Nor did he impress me as a man of more than 
 ordinary intellectual ability. His exterior was anything 
 but prepossessing. Of hardly middle height, with a round 
 head, low brow, and decidedly coarse Irish features, a dis- 
 proportionately broad and long body on short legs, he did 
 not make a very imposing personality. He looked like a 
 bold sabreur, but nothing more. 
 
 The arrival of General Sill's division being assured for 
 the evening of the llth, Buell, on the same day, sent 
 out three brigades from Crittenden's and Gilbert's corps, 
 headed by my friend Colonel Edward McCook's and Colonel 
 Gray's mounted commands. Having learned this, I made 
 my way at once to McCook, who was very willing to have 
 me accompany him again. He had Been incessantly en- 
 gaged in outpost and advance-guard duty during the 
 march from Nashville to Louisville and thence to Perryville, 
 and there had been but few days on which his command 
 had not rubbed against the enemy. We followed the pike 
 from Perryville to Harrodsburg, and encountered and skir- 
 mished with rebel cavalry, apparently supported by a 
 strong infantry force. But they fell back before evening, 
 and we entered Harrodsburg unopposed, where we found 
 more than a thousand rebel sick and wounded. The next
 
 330 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 day we moved on toward Dix River, a tributary of the 
 Kentucky, and discovered that the whole rebel army had 
 crossed it. Buell, being uncertain whether the enemy would 
 retreat further or would avail himself of the strong posi- 
 tions which the country between the two rivers afforded and 
 await attack, had ordered his whole army to advance on the 
 same day from a line extending from Harrodsburg to 
 Danville. On the 13th, our movement was continued in a 
 southeasterly direction upon the last-mentioned place. 
 There we ascertained definitely that Bragg was really in 
 full retreat towards the Cumberland River. Even Buell 
 now had to believe this, and he decided upon an energetic 
 pursuit in force. At midnight General Wood's division 
 marched from Danville and came up with and engaged the 
 enemy's rear-guard of cavalry and artillery in the morning 
 at Stanford. But it became evident during the day that 
 the enemy's object was only to obstruct our advance, which 
 he did by destroying bridges and blocking the road by 
 felled trees. I rode with McCook's cavalry brigade in ad- 
 vance of Gilbert's corps through Lancaster to Crab 
 Orchard, but we did not collide again with the rebels. 
 At the last-named point, the several roads followed by the 
 army converged into one, of a very rugged and difficult 
 character, so that the army could have followed the enemy 
 only in one column twenty miles long, which would have 
 been useless and absurd. McCook's and Gilbert's corps 
 were therefore halted on the 15th. 
 
 All the reports from the pursuing column confirmed 
 the general impression that Bragg and Kirby Smith were 
 making for Cumberland Gap and would not stop short of 
 East Tennessee. This meant the end of the Kentucky 
 campaign for Buell 's army. In view of this, and the desti- 
 tute condition in which the loss of my travelling-bag had 
 left me, I resolved to return to Louisville, and set out on 
 the return journey on the afternoon of the 15th, bound for 
 Bardstown, the nearest railroad station to which trains 
 were known to 5e running. My route was via Stanford,
 
 1862] GENERAL BUELL RELIEVED 331 
 
 Danville, Perryville, and Springfield, and I reached the 
 railroad late on the 17th. While riding along the turn- 
 pike that intersected the battle-field about two miles west of 
 Perryville, I smelled a sickening stench, obviously arising 
 from a spot close to the highway. Suspecting an effect 
 of the battle, I turned into a field to discover the cause of 
 it. Not more than a hundred yards from the road, a terrible 
 sight shocked me. In a clear space of not over an acre, 
 there were more than fifty dead rebels, off whom at least 
 a hundred hogs were making a sickening feast. The fallen 
 Confederates had evidently been overlooked by our bury- 
 ing parties. Decomposition had swelled the bodies into 
 awful monstrosities, and the nasty beasts were hard at 
 work disembowelling them and gnawing into the skulls for 
 their brains. Such is war! 
 
 I reached Louisville on the 18th. I wired immediately 
 to the Tribune that the campaign was ended, and that no 
 important events were likely to occur for some time, and 
 asked for instructions. The next morning the answer came 
 to report in person in New York as soon as possible, which 
 obviously meant a change of my field of duty. The order 
 was very welcome, and I started for the East on the 20th. 
 
 General Buell was relieved from the command of the 
 Army of the Cumberland soon afterwards, and General 
 Rosecrans put in his place. The change was inevitable. 
 The Government, it will Be remembered, had already tried 
 to replace him with General Thomas, and was now deter- 
 mined upon removing him. The loyal public and the gov- 
 ernments of the Western States again demanded his dis- 
 placement, more vehemently than before. The greater 
 portion of his army also wished for a new commander, and 
 Buell himself was conscious that his prestige was gone, and 
 intimated to the Government that he expected to be relieved. 
 He never was given another active command, and takes 
 his place in history as one of the failures of the war, be- 
 side Fremont, MeClellan, Burnside, Hooker, Pope, and 
 Halleck. The main cause of his downfall being the delay
 
 332 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 in his march to East Tennessee in consequence of Halleck's 
 order to repair the Memphis & Charleston Railroad as he 
 advanced, Buell may be considered a victim of circum- 
 stances as well as of his own personal defects. He pos- 
 sessed much natural ability, and probably more theoretical 
 knowledge of the science of war than any other Union 
 commander. But the latter acquirement proved more of 
 a detriment than an advantage to him, for it made him too 
 prone, in preparing his army for active operations, to 
 require a greater degree of readiness than the known worse 
 condition of his adversaries called for. And again, he 
 was too much inclined to base his deductions as to the pur- 
 poses of the enemy on what, according to the theory of 
 strategy, leaders of armies ought to do under certain cir- 
 cumstances. The rebel commanders regularly set his cal- 
 culations at naught by defying theory and rule in taking 
 the offensive, whether their troops were well clad or shod, 
 or well supplied with provisions and transportation or not, 
 and passing over mountains and rivers and through sterile 
 regions that he assumed to be insurmountable obstacles. 
 The subsequent publications in his defence show this short- 
 coming clearly, and also bring out his excessive caution 
 very distinctly. He was incapable of bold resolution and 
 daring action, contrasting strikingly in this respect with 
 the Confederate generals. Notwithstanding the uniform 
 superiority of his army in numbers, armament, equipment 
 and supplies, he was (with the exception of the second 
 day at Shiloh, when he acted under orders) always on the 
 defensive. If the conditions had been reversed and his 
 antagonists had enjoyed such superiority, they would 
 doubtless have made short work of him. General Buell is 
 entitled to full credit, however, for always faithfully and 
 tirelessly discharging his duties to the best of his ability. 
 The charges made in the press and otherwise at the time, 
 that he was at heart not loyal to the Union, and even sym- 
 pathized with the Southern cause, were utterly unfounded 
 and calumnious.
 
 MEMOIRS OF HENRY YILLARD 
 
 BOOK FOUR 
 IN CIVIL-WAR TIME: FREDERICKSBURG-
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 IN WASHINGTON ONCE MORE. 1862 
 
 I WAS very kindly received by my employers of the 
 Tribune, and, according to their liberal practice, was 
 given a week's leave of absence, which I spent in New 
 York. On reporting again for duty, I offered to write a 
 full review of the operations of the Army of the Ohio under 
 Buell, and the managing editor authorized me to prepare 
 it. Hearing from friends on McCook's staff that the of- 
 ficial reports of the Perryville campaign had been for- 
 warded to Washington, I asked permission to go there in 
 order to get a sight of them, if possible. My application 
 led to the discussion of my future duties. George W. 
 Smalley had been the chief correspondent of the Tribune 
 with the Army of the Potomac until after the battle of 
 Antietam, of which he wrote a remarkable description 
 the best piece of work of the kind produced during the 
 Civil War, in my opinion. (He subsequently served as 
 the London correspondent of the Tribune for nearly thirty 
 years, and since the summer of 1896 has represented the 
 London Times in the United States.) A regular editorial 
 writer on war subjects being needed, it had been decided 
 to keep him, as such, in New York. It was determined that 
 I should fill the vacancy, and, with that understanding, I 
 started for the national capital early in November. My 
 departure was hastened by the momentous announcement 
 of the second removal of General George B. McClellan from 
 the command of the Army of the Potomac, and the appoint- 
 ment of General Ambrose E. Burnside in his place, by 
 direct order of the President of the United States. 
 
 The disastrous end of the humiliating Peninsular cam- 
 
 335
 
 336 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 paign under McClellan in the early part of the summer 
 had produced such deep and angry dissatisfaction in the 
 loyal States, that President Lincoln felt compelled to 
 change his forbearing course towards the commander of 
 the Army of the Potomac, and to entrust another with the 
 conduct of the operations in Virginia. His choice fell upon 
 General John Pope, who, in the last days of June, was 
 placed in command of the Army of Virginia, then con- 
 sisting of only three army corps, but which was to be 
 strengthened by transfers from McClellan 's forces. The 
 hopes entertained of General Pope were grievously disap- 
 pointed by his utter defeat by General Lee in the second 
 battle of Bull Run. The vanquished General pleaded in 
 extenuation of his total failure the insufficiency of his army, 
 owing to the slowness of McClellan in reinforcing him and 
 to the deliberate and malevolent disregard of his orders 
 during the battle by General Fitz-John Porter. The story 
 that McClellan and the commanders under him, among 
 whom Porter was his strongest partisan, were determined 
 not to allow Pope to achieve a victory, was spread by the 
 press and found general credence. Great, therefore, was 
 the astonishment and indignation of the loyal' public when 
 the President again placed McClellan at the head of the 
 remnants of the armies of the Potomac and of Virginia. 
 This feeling was greatly intensified when it became known 
 that his restoration had been opposed and, indeed, formally 
 protested against by a majority of the Cabinet. The battle 
 of Antietam reconciled the North to the President's ac- 
 tion, but the passiveness into which McClellan relapsed 
 after that success rekindled the general impatience and 
 distrust of him. Again the President exercised altogether 
 too much forbearance under the greatest provocation. He 
 resisted all pressure for McClellan 's removal until the lat- 
 ter failed to meet the final test of his ability as a strategist 
 which the Commander-in-chief had resolved to apply to 
 him, by allowing Lee to appear once more with his whole 
 force to the east of the Blue Mountains.
 
 1862] McCLELLAN BELIEVED 337 
 
 The removal formed the all-absorbing topic in "Wash- 
 ington. I soon satisfied myself that the bulk of the army 
 under McClellan and a majority of the general officers 
 disapproved and were, contrary to all discipline, loud in 
 their denunciations of it. In the Capitol, as well as 
 throughout the loyal States, there were signs of a tendency 
 to make a national political issue of it. The President's 
 proclamation of the abolition of slavery of September 22 
 had met with strong opposition in the border States and 
 among the Democrats of the free States, especially in New 
 York, Ohio, and Indiana. It was known that McClellan, 
 and the generals nearest to him, were also opposed to this 
 portentous act. It was proclaimed by the Democratic press 
 that his relief from active command was due to his hos- 
 t^ity to it, and a concession to the "Abolitionists," who 
 then, as I could personally confirm, still seemed to many 
 Union generals no better than the rebels. General Mc- 
 Clellan did nothing to disclaim this pseudo-political mar- 
 tyrdom, which was certainly a convenient cloak for the 
 real cause of his dismissal his military shortcomings. I 
 even heard talk in the hotel lobbies and bar-rooms about 
 the intention of the deposed commander to lead the army 
 to Washington and take possession of the Government ; but 
 that impious wish of not a few never became a real pur- 
 pose. McClellan quietly obeyed the Presidential order to 
 repair to, and report from, Trenton, New Jersey. 
 
 Since my encounter with General Burnside in the memor- 
 able night of the retreat from Centreville after the first 
 battle of Bull Run, he had achieved creditable successes 
 in the North Carolina expedition, and risen from a brigade 
 to a corps command, and was apparently held in high es- 
 teem by the Government, the press, and the public. But 
 I had not got over the feeling of prejudice caused by his 
 behavior on that occasion, and hence the news that he had 
 been selected as the successor of McClellan did not inspire 
 me with confidence in a change for the better from the 
 continuous defeats of the national forces in the Eastern 
 
 22
 
 338 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 theatre of war. Nor was my apprehension modified by 
 the chorus of rejoicing among loyalists in Washington and 
 the North over the definitive retirement of McClellan and 
 the substitution of Burnside in his place; for it was not 
 based wholly upon the incident referred to, but on my 
 personal knowledge of his limited mental capacities, ac- 
 quired during my intercourse with him in the spring and 
 summer of 1861. My fears were heightened when I learned, 
 soon after his elevation was made known, that he had at 
 first declined the promotion, on the ground that he was 
 not qualified for the highest command and that McClellan 
 was the only proper man to lead the Eastern army. This 
 admission of incapacity and want of confidence in himself 
 made his appointment in spite of it an inexcusable mis- 
 take. Thus to force the gravest responsibilities upon a 
 reluctant man was almost to invite the further disaster 
 that came. I know of but one other similar instance 
 the ordering of Field Marshal Benedek to the chief com- 
 mand of the Austrian army in the war of 1866. 
 
 Washington had changed greatly since I last saw it in Au- 
 gust, 1861. Owing to the increase of the regular Govern- 
 ment officials by many thousands, because of the vast 
 growth of the public business in connection with the war, 
 the population had nearly doubled. At the time of my de- 
 parture, dozens of stores on the business thoroughfares and 
 hundreds of residences were to rent for a mere song. Now, 
 not a building of either class was unoccupied, and high 
 rents were asked and readily obtained. New hotels had 
 been opened, and were, like the old ones, well filled. What 
 with the constant presence of tens of thousands of troops 
 in the barracks and camps in and about the capital, and 
 the thousands of wounded in the hospitals, and the mul- 
 titude of visitors from the North to relatives and friends 
 in the army, the principal streets always presented a very 
 lively appearance. There was also a good deal of building 
 going on the best evidence of faith in the ultimate tri- 
 umph of the Government.
 
 1862] STANTON SUCCEEDS CAMERON 339 
 
 I devoted myself first to the elaboration of the review 
 of the campaigns of the Army of the Ohio above men- 
 tioned. It was not easy to obtain access to the official re- 
 ports relating to them in the War Department, but I man- 
 aged to secure copies of the more important ones. The 
 review was completed in time for its publication in the 
 Tribune of November 12. It filled more than an entire 
 page of the paper. 
 
 The Washington office of the Tribune was then in a small, 
 one-story brick building on F Street between 13th and 14th, 
 directly opposite Willard's Hotel. Samuel Wilkeson, who 
 had accompanied Secretary Cameron to Louisville, was 
 principal correspondent in charge. As a co-laborer, he had 
 Adams S. Hill, a graduate of Harvard College, twenty-nine 
 years old, a sharp-witted and indefatigable collector of 
 news, who had previously been connected with the editorial 
 department of the paper. I was entirely independent of 
 Wilkeson, and had only to make the office the medium for 
 transmitting, with a view to greater safety and despatch, 
 my war news to New York while I was in the field. I 
 naturally made much use of it, however, during my stay. 
 It was the resort of politicians, officials, and army officers, 
 who frequented it, especially in the evening, to bring news 
 or to hear and discuss it. This made it a very interesting 
 place. 
 
 I made special efforts to renew former acquaintances in 
 higher circles in order to learn the inside workings of 
 the Government and its intentions regarding the army. 
 In common with the public, I was aware that the Presi- 
 dent was not in harmony with the strongest members of 
 his Cabinet. Edwin M. Stanton had succeeded Simon 
 Cameron as Secretary of War. This change, while of im- 
 measurable benefit to the country, proved a decided dis- 
 advantage to my profession ; for whereas Cameron was al- 
 ways accessible and communicative no doubt, too much 
 so for the public good his successor had the doors of the 
 War Department closed to newspaper men. Seward, Blair,
 
 340 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 and Chase still practised their affable ways towards them. 
 I saw and had a long talk with each of the first two. Secre- 
 tary Chase I saw frequently, as of old. He spoke very 
 freely of the past and present, and in confidence criticised 
 without stint the mistakes that had been made in the civil 
 administration and the conduct of the war. It was very 
 evident that he was too confident of his own superiority, 
 mental and otherwise, to get along smoothly with the head 
 of the Government, and that sooner or later there would 
 be an open breach. The emancipation proclamation had 
 temporarily improved the relations between him and the 
 President, as the treatment of the slavery question had 
 been one of the principal subjects of disagreement, but 
 their characters were too radically different to get along 
 without further friction. 
 
 I also had a long conversation with Mr. Lincoln. It 
 took place after the publication of my review of Buell's 
 campaigns, a reference to which by the President made it 
 the exclusive subject discussed. He asked my opinion of 
 the principal commanders under Buell, which I expressed 
 with entire frankness. He surprised me by his familiarity 
 with details of movements and battles which I did not sup- 
 pose had come to his knowledge. As he kept me talking 
 for over half aji hour, I flattered myself that what I had 
 to say interested him. This impression was confirmed by 
 his intimation that he should be glad to see me again, after 
 I had told him, in response to his question as to my future 
 movements, that I should be with the Army of the Potomac. 
 
 My inquiries soon satisfied me that the army would not 
 be allowed to go into winter quarters, but that the Presi- 
 dent, the Secretary of War, and Halleck, as General-in- 
 chief, would insist, notwithstanding the near approach of 
 winter, upon an immediate resumption of active operations, 
 and accordingly I made my preparations to take the field 
 at the earliest necessary moment. I anticipated a good 
 deal of embarrassment at first, from the fact that my ac- 
 quaintance with superior officers in the Army of the Po-
 
 1862] McCLELLAN AND LINCOLN 341 
 
 tomac was very limited, and that the Tribune had severely 
 attacked McClellan and some of his corps commanders in 
 connection with both the Peninsular and Pope 's campaigns. 
 I hoped, however, to overcome this hindrance to a suc- 
 cessful discharge of my duties. Under the regime of 
 Stanton and Halleck, it was anything but easy for cor- 
 respondents to obtain permits to go to, and remain at, the 
 front, as the Secretary fully shared the opinion of the 
 General-in-chief that newspaper men were a pest. It had 
 been arranged that I was to have three assistants, who were 
 to be directly under my orders, and whose reports were to 
 be revised by me before being forwarded to the New York 
 office. We were all allowed horses, camp equipments, and 
 a servant. 
 
 To overcome McClellan 's slowness, the President issued, 
 on October 6, a peremptory order requiring him to cross 
 the Potomac with his army and "give battle to the enemy 
 or drive him South." As it produced no effect, the Presi- 
 dent, a week later, addressed a long letter to him explain- 
 ing the plan of operations the General was expected to fol- 
 low and the reasons therefor. It began: "You remember 
 my speaking to you of what I called your over-cautiousness. 
 Are you not over-cautious when you assume that you can- 
 not do what the enemy is constantly doing? Should you 
 not claim to be at least his equal in prowess and act upon 
 that claim?" The letter was altogether a very remarkable 
 production, and proved that the author had acquired a 
 clear and sound judgment upon strategic questions. The 
 prescribed plan was well conceived and perfectly feasible. 
 The very fact, however, that the President found it neces- 
 sary to address such an implied censure to McClellan and 
 to tell him what to do, was conclusive proof of the grievous 
 error he committed in re-appointing him. 
 
 According to the Presidential order for the new cam- 
 paign, the army was to follow Lee by a flank march on 
 the interior line to Eichmond, keeping close to the base 
 of the Blue Ridge, so as to prevent debouchments from its
 
 342 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 passes upon the Federal right and rear, and to force the 
 enemy into battle whenever and wherever practicable. 
 McClellan's tardiness in carrying it out had enabled Lee 
 to obstruct its execution by passing through the Ridge and 
 moving on the same line as the Union army, but ahead of 
 it, towards Richmond. This led, as mentioned, to the final 
 dismissal of the Federal commander. 
 
 After assuming command, General Burnside proposed, 
 instead of following Lee directly, to move down the Rappa- 
 hannock on the north side to Falmouth, opposite the town 
 of Fredericksburg, and to establish a new base of supplies 
 on the estuary of the Potomac, fifteen miles to the north of 
 it, known as Acquia Creek. Neither the President nor 
 General Halleck approved of this change of programme, 
 and the latter paid a visit to General Burnside at Warren- 
 ton in order to persuade him to adhere to the President's 
 plan. But he did not succeed in this, and the result was 
 an understanding that he should submit to the President 
 a modification of it, in pursuance of which the army was 
 to cross the Rappahannock by the upper fords and to move 
 down the south side and seize the heights of Fredericks- 
 burg; this movement to be accompanied by repairing and 
 reopening the railroad opposite Washington as a line of 
 communication between Alexandria and Fredericksburg. 
 Until this could be accomplished, the Acquia Creek route 
 was to be used as a line of supplies. On November 14, 
 Halleck telegraphed the "assent" of the President, who 
 would not permit the use of the word "approval." Thus 
 the brief and fatal Fredericksburg campaign was inau- 
 gurated. 
 
 General Burnside had made himself responsible for the 
 outcome by insisting upon the deviation from the Presi- 
 dential plan. But, unfortunately, he assumed still graver 
 responsibility. Instead of crossing the river by the upper 
 fords, he marched down the north side to Falmouth. Gen- 
 eral Halleck makes the point-blank charge, in a report to the 
 President, that the movement on the north side was never
 
 1862] BURNSIDE'S PLAN 343 
 
 approved or authorized. It was the cause of Burnside's 
 failure to occupy the Fredericksburg heights ahead of the 
 enemy, and of the subsequent terrible defeat of his army. 
 Our forces moved from Warrenton on November 15 and 
 reached Falmouth on the 20th. Lee, on discovering the 
 direction of our march, started Longstreet's corps for 
 Fredericksburg, but it did not arrive there till the 21st; 
 hence there was ample time to anticipate the rebels in 
 taking possession of the commanding heights. General 
 Sumner, commanding the corps, asked permission to cross 
 a few miles above the town, where the river was fordable, 
 but did not obtain it. Thus the position, in the vain at- 
 tempt to secure which so much loyal blood was afterwards 
 shed, was left to the enemy. 
 
 This neglect became the subject of one of the most viru- 
 lent controversies engendered by the shortcomings of the 
 Federal commanders during the war. The Congressional 
 Committee on the Conduct of the War inquired into it, and 
 the testimony taken before it fills several hundred pages. 
 It was attempted to be shown, in defence of General Burn- 
 side, that his plan of marching to Falmouth had been 
 approved by his superiors in Washington, and that he was 
 led to expect, on his arrival there, to find supplies, pon- 
 toons for bridges, and gunboats to protect them. General 
 Halleck not only absolutely denied that he authorized the 
 move to Falmouth, but also insisted that Burnside could 
 not expect supplies at points held by the rebels until he 
 reached these, and that he was repeatedly informed that 
 gunboats could not at that time ascend the river to Freder- 
 icksburg. But the truth was confessed by General Burn- 
 side himself in this passage in his brief and only report 
 of the coming battle to General Halleck : ' ' The fact that I 
 decided to move from Warrenton on this line rather against 
 the opinion of the President, the Secretary of War, and 
 yourself, and that you left the whole movement in my 
 hands without giving me orders, makes me the only one 
 responsible. ' '
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 WITH BUENSIDE BEFORE FREDERICKSBURG. 1862 
 
 HAVING, after a good deal of effort, received per- 
 mission to proceed to the front, I secured an order 
 for transportation on one of the Government boats from 
 Quartermaster-General Meigs. I managed to get myself 
 and belongings, including my horse, on one of the many 
 craft loading with army supplies, on the morning of Novem- 
 ber 29. We steamed off in the afternoon, but, Acquia Creek 
 being sixty-five miles from Washington, and the boat 
 making only six and seven miles an hour, we did not reach 
 our destination before midnight. The captain let me share 
 his supper, but there were sleeping accommodations only 
 for the officers and crew, so that I was obliged to seek rest 
 on the floor of the small mess-room. I was up at daybreak. 
 In the estuary were several score of vessels at anchor gun- 
 boats, steamboats of all kinds, schooners, scows, barges, and 
 canal-boatsall awaiting their turn to discharge at the one 
 available wharf. It looked as if I might have to wait for 
 days before I could get my horse ashore. The captain was 
 rowed to the landing early, and I accompanied him to as- 
 certain the prospect before me. Fortunately, we had some 
 railroad material aboard that was urgently needed in re- 
 pairing the section between Acquia and Falmouth of the 
 road from Alexandria to Fredericksburg, which had been 
 utterly destroyed at an earlier stage of the war, and we were 
 made fast to the wharf by noon and my luggage and animal 
 safely transferred to it shortly afterward. 
 
 The railroad was near the wharf, and a locomotive and 
 an old passenger coach and a dozen freight cars stood upon 
 
 344
 
 1862] AT FALMOUTH 345 
 
 the track, but I was told that the section to the front would 
 not be opened for traffic for several days. Accordingly, 
 I saddled my horse, and, with my valise in front and my 
 roll of bedding strapped behind me, started for Falmouth. 
 There had been a severe frost followed by a thaw, and the 
 thousands of army wagons that had passed over the road 
 for several days had reduced it to a very bad condition, 
 so that I could only walk my horse. It took me over four 
 hours to reach the first camps, about a mile from the Rappa- 
 hannock. The ravages of war were visible all the way. 
 The country seemed to have been burned over. The scrub 
 timber was coal-black, and, in the frequent clearings where 
 farming had been carried on, there was nothing to be seen 
 but half-destroyed fences and the ruins of dwellings and 
 outhouses without any inhabitants. 
 
 I had letters of introduction to General John G. Parke, 
 the chief -of-staff, from a regular-army friend in Washing- 
 ton, and to General Hooker from Mr. Smalley, who had 
 been with the General in the Antietam campaign. I also 
 knew General E. V. Sumner, and General Daniel Butter- 
 field, who had set out from New York as colonel of the 
 12th New York Militia, a three months' regiment. As 
 night was approaching, and it was evident that I should 
 not be likely to find any of these officers except with dif- 
 ficulty in the dark, it occurred to me to ask a division sutler, 
 whose tent showed a large display of goods, whether he 
 could not accommodate me for the night. I told him who 
 I was, and he readily consented to do the best he could for 
 me and my beast. I had a really luxurious supper and a 
 good night's sleep on a camp-bed, for which my generous 
 host, whose name I have forgotten, would not accept any 
 compensation. 
 
 The next day was brisk and clear just right for my 
 first sight of the Army of the Potomac. A short ride 
 brought me to an elevated point commanding a wide view 
 of the surroundings. There was a large plateau, forming 
 several plantations with commodious brick mansions one
 
 346 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 of which had been burned standing amidst groups of 
 the usual outbuildings and stately groves of shade trees. 
 Patches of timber broke the cultivated surface. In every 
 direction vast encampments were visible. The plateau was 
 from 100 to 125 feet above the Rappahannock, whose flow 
 was for several miles almost due east. It seemed like a 
 regular plain, but was really divided by two deep wooded 
 ravines, down which "runs," as small water-courses 
 were called in the local vernacular, made for the river. 
 Through one of these the railroad approached it. The 
 small village of Falmouth appeared some distance above, 
 on the left bank of the Rappahannock. Almost directly 
 before and beneath me, on the right bank, the old town 
 of Fredericksburg was situated. It presented itself as a 
 compact mass of brick buildings extending half a mile 
 along, and a quarter of a mile from, the river. The site 
 of the city rose but slightly near the river, but a mile south 
 of it there were considerable heights, extending like the arc 
 of a circle, with the river as the chord, and forming an 
 amphitheatre, as it were, about a mile wide and two miles 
 long, traversed by several highways, the Richmond rail- 
 road, and three streamlets, of which the Massaponax was 
 the farthest to the east, and the most considerable. It was 
 known that the rebels occupied the town, but no signs of 
 them were then discernible. The railroad bridge at the east 
 end was in ruins. 
 
 After assuming command, General Burnside reorganized 
 the army into three grand divisions of two army corps each 
 the right, centre, and left under the respective com- 
 mands of Major-Generals Sumner, Hooker, and Franklin. 
 The right Grand Division consisted of the Second and Ninth 
 Army Corps, commanded by Major-General D. N. Couch 
 and Brigadier-General 0. B. Willcox; the centre Grand 
 Division, of the Third and Fifth Army Corps, under Briga- 
 dier-Generals George Stoneman and Daniel Butterfield; 
 and the left Grand Division, of the First and Sixth Army 
 Corps, under Major-General John F. Reynolds and Briga-
 
 1862] FIGHTING JOE HOOKER 347 
 
 dier-General William P. Smith. The army and the grand- 
 division and army-corps headquarters were all in prominent 
 positions and were readily recognized by flags and other 
 signs, so that it was easy for me to make my way to them. 
 I first proceeded to General Burnside 's headquarters, which 
 consisted of a group of tents next to a large dwelling 
 called, I believe, the Lacy house, the home of a planter 
 of that name. The Commanding-general had shunned it, 
 and was setting the good example of camping. General 
 Parke received me politely and readily countersigned my 
 pass, but put me under strict injunction not to write any- 
 thing about the position, strength, and condition of the 
 army. I learned that, two days before, a meeting of the 
 President and General Burnside had taken place at Acquia 
 Creek, in the afternoon, on the boat in which the President 
 had come from Washington, and lasted several hours, Mr. 
 Lincoln returning immediately afterwards to Washington. 
 I ascertained the purport of his flying visit after my re- 
 turn to Washington, and may as well mention here that it 
 was to dissuade Burnside from a direct attack on the enemy 
 in his obviously very strong position on the heights of 
 Fredericksburg. But the President found the General 
 stolidly bent on making the attempt to defeat Lee where 
 he was. Nicolay and Hay relate that, on his way back to 
 Washington, Lincoln prepared a memorandum for a flank- 
 ing movement, which he allowed Halleck and Burnside, 
 however, to overrule. 
 
 I next sought General Hooker. I had never met him 
 and was, of course, eager to see and take my own measure 
 of "Fighting Joe," which sobriquet the press had already 
 affixed to him. His exterior was certainly most attractive 
 and commanding. He was fully six feet high, finely pro- 
 portioned, with a soldierly, erect carriage, handsome and 
 noble features, a slight fringe of side-whiskers, a rosy com- 
 plexion, abundant blond hair, a fine and expressive mouth, 
 and most striking of all great, speaking gray-blue eyes; 
 he looked, indeed, like the ideal soldier and captain, fit for
 
 348 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 a model of a war-god. There was only one other man in the 
 army, as far as my own observations went, that came near 
 him in these external qualities General Winfield S. Han- 
 cock. My letter of introduction from Mr. Smalley com- 
 mended me very strongly to the General's confidence, yet 
 he received me rather stiffly and coldly. This I found, 
 however, to be his natural manner, for, after a short general 
 conversation his voice being most agreeable he burst 
 forth into unsparing criticism of the general conduct of 
 the war in the East, of the Government, of Halleck, Mc- 
 Clellan, Pope, and, last but not least, of his present im- 
 mediate superior. He had even then an unenviable no- 
 toriety for a rash tongue, to which he added lamentably 
 in his subsequent career. His language was so severe and, 
 at the same time, so infused with self-assertion as to give 
 rise immediately to a fear on my part that he might be 
 inclined to make use of me for his own glorification and for 
 the detraction of others. This made it prudent for me 
 not to place myself under more personal obligations to him' 
 than I could possibly help. Hence, I abstained from re- 
 questing, as I had first intended, permission to stop at his 
 headquarters. After an hour's talk I passed on, with the 
 General's assurance that he should always be glad to 
 see me. 
 
 General Sumner, on whom I next called, remembered me 
 very well and gave me a hearty welcome. A colonel of 
 cavalry at the outbreak of the war, he, like all regular- 
 army officers, had had no practical experience up to that 
 time in serving with larger bodies of troops than a regi- 
 ment. He had been an excellent regimental commander, 
 very strict in the enforcement of discipline and thorough 
 drilling, and withal a model cavalry soldier. But he was 
 almost too old for the proper discharge of the duties of 
 higher command, and also lacked the natural parts for it. 
 Yet the force of circumstances, or, rather, his rank in the 
 regular army and the lack of competent commanders, to- 
 gether with his fervid loyalty and enthusiastic devotion
 
 1862] SUMNER AND BUTTERFIELD 349 
 
 to the flag, had carried him rapidly in a year and a half 
 from the command of a regiment to that of a brigade, a 
 division, an army corps, and an army wing numbering 
 sixty thousand men. He was the very picture of a veteran 
 soldier tall, slender, erect, with a fine head thickly cov- 
 ered with white hair, and a noble face fringed with a white 
 beard. He was polished in speech and manner, and seemed 
 almost too full of kindliness for his stern profession. En- 
 couraged by his hearty way, I ventured to ask whether I 
 could be provided for at his headquarters, whereupon he 
 sent at once for his son, Captain S. S. Sumner, who served 
 as his aide-de-camp, and instructed him to take care of me, 
 which was quickly done. I was to take my meals with the 
 medical director, Surgeon Dougherty, and his assistants, 
 and to sleep with the latter in a large hospital tent. I 
 had every reason to be grateful for the provision made for 
 me, as I was treated with unvarying courtesy by my mess 
 and tent-mates during the two weeks and a half I was to 
 spend with them. To be at the headquarters of a grand 
 division proved a very great advantage to me. 
 
 Having thus come well to anchor, I sought to make 
 further acquaintances among the officers. Everybody un- 
 derstood that an early offensive movement was contem- 
 plated, and it was the general belief that it would take 
 place within a few days. But the end of the month came, 
 and the first days of December passed, without the expected 
 stirring events, so that I had more time for familiarizing 
 myself with the army than I anticipated. General Butter- 
 field I saw early and often, and he helped me in every 
 possible way. Starting in a practical life as a business man 
 in New York, he always had a strong penchant for military 
 matters, and entered the militia early, and, by his enthusi- 
 asm and aptitude, worked his way up to the command of a 
 regiment when he was but thirty. His regiment was among 
 the first to enlist for three months, at the expiration of 
 which term he was appointed a lieutenant-colonel in the 
 regular army and a brigadier-general of volunteers. He
 
 350 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 had gone through the Peninsular campaign with credit, 
 and risen to the command of a division. The formation 
 of the grand divisions secured his promotion to the com- 
 mand of the Fifth Corps. He was a very handsome man, 
 of middle stature, with regular, delicate features, jet-black 
 hair and mustache, and very soldierly bearing. He seemed 
 to have a better knowledge of men and matters in the army 
 than any other officer I became acquainted with, and he 
 allowed me to draw liberally on his store. 
 
 I met General Burnside twice. He showed to me, as to 
 everybody else, a prepossessing bonhomie that made one 
 feel at home with him at once. Indeed, he wore his genial, 
 frank, honest, sincere nature on his sleeve. But there was 
 nothing in his exterior or in his conversation that indicated 
 intellectual eminence or executive ability of a high order. 
 He inspired confidence in his honesty of purpose and ardent 
 loyalty, but it was not possible that any experienced judge 
 of men should be impressed with him as a great man. He 
 talked without reserve of his intention to take the offensive 
 at the earliest possible moment, but, of course, gave no 
 intimation of his plan of operations. As he complained 
 of the delay in the arrival of the pontoon trains for bridg- 
 ing the river, I was satisfied that the purposed blow at Lee 
 would not be struck until that difficulty was removed, and 
 that the risky attempt of a front attack would be made. 
 
 Besides the generals named, I had the opportunity to 
 meet General Couch, commanding the Second Corps, and 
 Generals W. S. Hancock, O. O. Howard, and William H. 
 French, division commanders under him ; General Willcox, 
 commanding the Ninth Corps, and General S. D. Sturgis, 
 commanding his Second Division ; Generals Stoneman and 
 A. A. Humphreys, division commanders under Hooker; 
 General Reynolds, commanding the First Army Corps un- 
 der Franklin, and the division commanders John Gibbon, 
 George G. Meade, and John Newton; and General Hunt, 
 chief of artillery. Couch, Hancock, Reynolds, Humphreys, 
 Newton, and Hunt impressed me most as thorough soldiers.
 
 1862] IN FRONT OF FREDERICKSBURG 351 
 
 Hancock's imposing physique, already spoken of, was sure 
 to attract attention. I also found four more old acquain- 
 tances among the general officers Daniel E. Sickles, divi- 
 sion commander under Hooker, well known as a Democratic 
 politician and member of Congress from New York (who 
 afterwards lost a leg at Gettysburg and is still living at this 
 writing) ; John Cochrane, commanding a brigade, also a 
 New York Congressman of more than local fame ; Brigadier- 
 General Sol. Meredith, a popular Indiana politician, re- 
 markable for his great size; and the redoubtable Irish 
 leader and poet, Thomas Francis Meagher, who, mirabile 
 dictu, had likewise reached the rank of brigadier-general. 
 At the end of a fortnight, indeed, I already felt very much 
 at home in the Army of the Potomac. 
 
 When the army first appeared opposite Fredericksburg 
 on November 20, the rebels occupying the town kept up a 
 fire from small arms upon any Union parties that ventured 
 to go to the river for water. General Sumner thereupon 
 addressed a communication to the mayor, demanding the 
 surrender of the place, under threat of bombardment, on 
 the expiration of sixteen hours allowed for the removal 
 of the population. A compromise was reached under which, 
 on the one side no more acts of hostility were to be com- 
 mitted from the town, and on the other the Federal forces 
 were not to occupy it until further notice. It was well 
 known, however, that the Confederates occupied the build- 
 ings along the river for a determined resistance to any 
 attempt to cross, but the established truce was strictly 
 maintained. According to my recollection, not a shot was 
 fired from small arms or artillery within my hearing up 
 to the formal opening of hostilities. This was, of course, 
 mainly due to the fact that the contending forces were 
 separated by the river. 
 
 The delay in the arrival of the pontoons was caused by 
 a succession of mishaps and mistakes. During the Antie- 
 tam campaign, the pontoon trains attached to the army 
 had been ordered to Harper's Ferry and remained there
 
 352 HENEY VILLARD [1862 
 
 ever since, as no occasion had arisen meanwhile to call for 
 their use elsewhere. They were supposed by Generals 
 Burnside and Halleck to be at Washington, and, of course, 
 the longer time required for their transportation from 
 the other point was not at first taken into account. An 
 order to send them forward was, for some never-explained 
 reason, six days in reaching its destination. When they 
 reached Washington, they were ordered to be hauled over- 
 land to the Rappahannock. This was a grave error of 
 judgment, as it took several days to secure the necessary 
 teams, and the roads were found to be so bad that the 
 pontoon wagons could not progress more than five miles a 
 day. The attempt had finally to be abandoned altogether 
 and the water route taken. A whole fortnight was thus 
 lost in getting the bridge material to the front. It was this 
 delay that prevented the earlier occupation of Fredericks- 
 burg and its surroundings by our forces, and may have 
 been the principal cause of our eventual defeat. As it was, 
 the full means for bridging the river simultaneously at 
 several points were not at hand until after the first week 
 in December. 
 
 The great natural obstacle of the river made it imprac- 
 ticable to discover the position and strength of the enemy 
 by regular reconnoissances. Nor did we seem to obtain 
 much information regarding him from spies. It was 
 chiefly through the Richmond papers, which were as indis- 
 creet in publishing army news as their Northern contem- 
 poraries, and which reached headquarters from various 
 directions, that we received intelligence from the other side. 
 But even through them we had only circumstantial evi- 
 dence that Lee's whole army was distributed over the 
 opposite heights. While an air line to them from the bluffs 
 on the left bank was not much over a mile in length, 
 even with the strongest field-glasses little could be dis- 
 covered of the rebels beyond the field-works they had 
 immediately undertaken and steadily continued. They 
 probably saw not much more of us than we of them.
 
 r 
 
 L.LIUS BICN * CO. NY.
 
 CHAPTEE XXII 
 
 THE BATTLE OF FREDEEICKSBURG. 1862 
 
 I ASCERTAINED on December 9 that all the prepara- 
 tions for the proposed active operations were completed, 
 and that they would be undertaken immediately. The 
 plan decided upon by General Burnside, and communicated 
 formally to the Grand Division commanders, was as 
 follows : 
 
 To concentrate all the siege and most of the field artillery on the 
 ridge on which the plateau on the left bank abutted, and from 
 which their fire would command the town, the opposite plain, and 
 the encircling hills beyond it. 
 
 To throw five bridges across the river during the night of the 
 10th to the llth two at the upper end of Fredericksburg, one 
 at the lower end, and two a mile below the latter; making the totai 
 distance between the extreme bridges about two miles. 
 
 Immediately after the completion of the bridges, the Right Grand 
 Division was to cross by the upper bridges and move through 
 Fredericksburg and form beyond the town. The Left Grand Divi- 
 sion was to cross by the two lower bridges to the plain on the right 
 bank, and the Centre Grand Division to be held in reserve on the 
 north bank, ready to move either to the support of the Right or 
 Left Grand Division. 
 
 The Right Grand Division to attack the enemy's left on the 
 Fredericksburg heights with one of Hooker's corps and with a 
 division of the other as reserve. 
 
 The Left Grand Division to make a simultaneous and diverting 
 attack on the rebel right, with Stoneman's division in reserve. 
 
 On the 10th, the unmistakable signs of impending ac- 
 tion were observable on all sides. There were conferences 
 at army-corps and division headquarters, increased home 
 23 353
 
 354 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 letter-writing, and talk about the expected fighting, 
 throughout the encampments, special inspections of the 
 arms and accoutrements of infantry and artillery, dis- 
 tribution of ammunition, cooking of extra rations, and 
 enlargement of field-hospital accommodations. The artil- 
 lery was assembled in four groups or divisions at as many 
 convenient points, and the pontoon trucks advanced nearer 
 to the edge of the plateau. 
 
 The artillery moved first into position between dusk and 
 midnight. No less than one hundred and seventy-nine 
 guns, nearly all rifled, and ranging from 4 1 /2-inch siege and 
 20-pounder Parrott to 3-inch guns, were arrayed, forming 
 a close chain from Falmouth down the bank for two miles, 
 ready to belch forth death and destruction in terrible con- 
 cert whenever the signal was given. I believe it was the 
 greatest assemblage of artillery in any battle of the Civil 
 War. I watched the movement in front of the Right 
 Grand Division for several hours, and was much impressed 
 with the regularity, quickness, and noiselessness of it. 
 
 The first duty of the artillery was to cover the con- 
 struction of the five bridges. The line of batteries being 
 established, the Brigade of Volunteer Engineers, under 
 General Woodbury, with a battalion of regular engineers, 
 started with five bridge trains so as to reach the bank of 
 the river at three o'clock in the morning (December 11). 
 The way for the descent of the trains had been carefully 
 prepared ; still it was a difficult and risky undertaking, for 
 there were no less than one hundred and fifty boats to be 
 hauled on wagons, each of which required four horses. 
 From the upper plateau with the encampments, a steep 
 road led to a second plateau about one hundred feet below, 
 nearly half a mile wide, which gradually inclined to the 
 bank proper; the last hundred feet to the water being 
 rather abrupt. The movement of the pontoons was to be 
 concealed from the enemy, but, what with the accompany- 
 ing five hundred engineers, the six hundred animals, and 
 the escort of an infantry regiment to each of the trains,
 
 1862] PONTONIERS BAFFLED 355 
 
 success in this seemed hardly probable. Yet the trains not 
 only reached the bank at the fixed hour, but the engineers, 
 according to orders, began at once unloading the material, 
 and accomplished this without being at all disturbed by the 
 rebels in Fredericksburg until daybreak. Their guards, 
 reliefs, and main bodies must all have slept very soundly, 
 or they would surely have tried some rifle practice, even 
 in the dark. I did not see the creditable night performance 
 of the pontoniers myself, having sought a good night's rest 
 after the artillery had got into position, in view of the 
 fatiguing labors I looked for on the next day. I slept so 
 well that I was not roused by the musketry and artillery 
 fire to which the bridge-throwing led, between six and 
 seven o'clock, and did not stir till called for breakfast at 
 seven. I dressed and ate very hurriedly amidst the roar 
 of artillery, but it was nearly eight o'clock before I got 
 to the line of our fighting batteries. 
 
 I quickly learned that the fire had no other object than 
 to cover the completion of the bridges. The pontoons for 
 those at the upper and lower ends of the town not only had 
 been pushed into the water without interference from the 
 enemy, but were half way across when, shortly after six, 
 the bridge-builders received a sharp musketry fire from 
 the other side which compelled them to abandon their work, 
 after having some officers and a number of non-com- 
 missioned officers and privates killed and wounded. The 
 infantry supports fired in return, but effected nothing. 
 Thereupon, four batteries on the bluffs above opened a 
 violent fire, with shot and shell from twenty-four guns, 
 upon the other bank, for about fifteen minutes. When they 
 ceased, the engineers tried to resume their work, but were 
 pelted again with rebel bullets. As a thick fog hung over 
 the river, obliging the batteries to fire at random, six light 
 batteries were ordered down to the river bank; four near 
 the upper and two near the middle bridge. The fire from 
 the batteries above and below was then kept up at intervals, 
 and was going on when I reached the scene.
 
 356 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 A lull then occurred for another attempt of the engineers 
 to finish the bridges, but again they failed, owing to the 
 increased severity of the rebel fire. At nine another general 
 cannonade was opened upon the rebel cover from over a 
 hundred light and heavy guns. The roar of the discharges, 
 the whizzing of the missiles, the bursting of the shells, and 
 the crashing as they struck the buildings, combined in a 
 deafening and yet inspiring war concert. At ten, our fire 
 ceased, when the engineers once more endeavored to add 
 pontoons to those already in place, only to be again driven 
 back. Our batteries repeated their performance, pour- 
 ing shot and shell upon the buildings from which the rebels 
 fired. At eleven, the fog had lifted sufficiently to make the 
 houses and streets distinguishable, thus giving surer aim 
 to our artillerists. To a column of rebel infantry seen 
 moving down a street they at once gave attention, making 
 it disappear. The whole forenoon was thus spent in futile 
 efforts for the completion of the upper bridges. It became 
 evident, too, that every new attempt made it harder for the 
 engineer officers to get their men to expose themselves. 
 The latter finally refused to obey orders, or ran away from 
 the pontoons to shelter as soon as the hostile bullets whistled 
 around them. Irritated at this successful defiance of us 
 by a small rebel force, General Burnside, shortly after noon, 
 ordered a general bombardment of the town at large. Some 
 one hundred and fifty guns were accordingly turned upon 
 it, causing, as it seemed to me, twice as furious a roaring 
 as before. Several buildings were soon seen to burn. This 
 terrific cannonade was kept up for nearly two hours, when 
 it was stopped for a further effort to finish the bridges. 
 
 At the suggestion of the chief of artillery, General 
 Hunt, it was decided to try and rush troops across the 
 river in bridge boats, to attack and drive away the enemy. 
 This dangerous duty naturally devolved upon, and was ac- 
 cepted with alacrity by, the regiments serving as supports 
 to the several bridge trains. At the upper bridge, the Sev- 
 enth Michigan was to cross, while the Nineteenth Massachu-
 
 1862] THE RIVER BRIDGE 357 
 
 setts deployed along the bank to cover the boats with their 
 rifles. The daring venture was preceded by another tre- 
 mendous outburst of our artillery, lasting half an hour. 
 While it continued, boats were to be pushed into the river, 
 manned by officers and men of the regiment named, and 
 rowed over as fast as possible. But the engineers who were 
 to push the boats skulked off again at the first rebel fire. 
 The Michigan men, under Colonel Baxter, promptly as- 
 sumed their part and shoved and carried the boats into the 
 water. Six started off first, filled with less than one hun- 
 dred men. Our batteries became silent, and on our side 
 all eyes were anxiously fixed upon the small flotilla. There 
 was great risk of a failure, as there were not enough ex- 
 perienced oarsmen to handle th6 boats, and as the force 
 in them was small. The rebels sent a shower of bullets, kill- 
 ing one man and seriously wounding the Colonel and sev- 
 eral others. But the other bank was reached, and the party 
 formed quickly under it and then rushed up the first street, 
 and in a few minutes had captured some thirty rebels and 
 established themselves in a building after losing another 
 officer and more men. This achievement was one of the 
 bravest feats of the whole war. The remainder of the 
 Michigan regiment and the Nineteenth Massachusetts fol- 
 lowed in boats as rapidly as possible. As they forced their 
 way into the town, there was some street fighting, but our 
 men, spreading to right and left, soon had the loopholed 
 buildings along the bank cleared of all rebels. The engi- 
 neers could not be induced to resume the bridge work until 
 our men had secured a foothold, when they took hold 
 again, and by four o'clock the upper bridge was at last 
 completed. 
 
 At the three other bridges to be thrown by the volunteer 
 engineers, a similar experience was had. The enemy foiled 
 successive efforts to lay them by his severe musketry fire, 
 which inflicted, however, but slight losses. The second and 
 third could not be completed until, as at the upper bridge, 
 one of the covering regiments, the Eighty-ninth New York,
 
 358 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 had secured a lodgment on the other bank by a dash in 
 boats across the river, which was effected without loss and 
 with the capture of a company of rebels. The least re- 
 sistance was encountered by the regular engineer battalion 
 charged with laying the lowest bridge. Only a small party 
 of rebels confronted them on the south bank, and they were 
 speedily driven off by the fire of the infantry supports. 
 The approach to the water was difficult, and all the material 
 had to be hauled by hand for several hundred yards. Ice 
 in the river also impeded progress, yet the commandant of 
 the battalion could report at 11 A.M. that the bridge was 
 ready for the passage of infantry and artillery. 
 
 After the lower bridges were finished to the south bank, 
 the rebels did not disturb the Federal detachments that 
 established themselves upon it for the protection of the 
 structures. In the town, however, the conflict described 
 did not end the fighting. The Seventh Michigan and the 
 Nineteenth Massachusetts had been rapidly followed, partly 
 in boats but mainly over the bridge, by two New York, one 
 Pennsylvania, and another Massachusetts regiment of Gen- 
 eral O. 0. Howard's division. After being formed in the 
 first street parallel to the river, they advanced up the 
 streets crossing it at right angles. When they attempted 
 to pass the second parallel street they were met by a hail 
 of bullets, and it required a hard struggle to force the 
 rebels gradually out of the town. Darkness set in before 
 our troops reached its upper end, and compelled the cessa- 
 tion of firing lest they should fire upon each other. During 
 the night the rebels retired entirely from the place. The 
 remainder of Howard's division and Hawkins's brigade of 
 the Ninth Corps passed over, and by morning the whole 
 town was occupied by our troops. The street fighting cost 
 us nearly a hundred officers and men killed and wounded. 
 I did not myself observe the last-mentioned occurrences. I 
 had watched the bridge-throwing attempts all day, first 
 from the upper and in the afternoon from the lower plateau. 
 But, as it was so near nightfall when it became possible to
 
 1862] FREDERICKSBURG OCCUPIED 359 
 
 get over, I concluded not to cross, but proceeded to General 
 Sumner's headquarters. 
 
 The result of the day was, of course, very disappointing 
 to General Burnside. He had relied on getting sufficient 
 troops over the river to strike on the next day, and had 
 issued formal orders to that effect, instead of which twenty- 
 four hours were lost and the enemy given a long warning 
 of his purposes and sufficient time for counter-preparations. 
 Moreover, the delay impaired the fitness of his army for the 
 bloody task before it, from the fatigue involved in its being 
 kept massed under arms ready for the movement across the 
 river so long before it could be executed. As all experi- 
 enced commanders know, lying still under such circum- 
 stances is more wearing to troops than activity. Having 
 satisfied myself that nothing was likely to happen during 
 the night, I returned to my quarters for a good rest. 
 
 I was ready for duty early in the morning. The weather 
 continued mild, but a heavy fog again prevailed, making 
 it impossible to see more than a hundred yards ahead. I 
 found Hancock's and French's divisions ready to move, 
 and they commenced crossing before 8 A.M. They were 
 followed closely during the forenoon by Burns 's, Sturgis's, 
 and Getty's divisions of the Eleventh Army Corps. The 
 five divisions used the three upper bridges. As the day ad- 
 vanced, the fog lifted, and the five heavy, long bodies in 
 motion over the floating structures formed a curious and 
 withal impressive sight. At a distance the men and ani- 
 mals seemed to be stepping on the water itself. Everybody 
 looked for a great effort of the rebel artillery to impede our 
 passage, but, to our general surprise, instead of the antici- 
 pated cannonade from the enemy, only scattering shot and 
 shell at intervals were aimed at us, without doing any harm. 
 The rebel official reports state, in explanation of this weak 
 demonstration, that the river lay too low for effective 
 firing ; but I can bear personal testimony to the contrary, as 
 I saw some of their projectiles strike the water within a few 
 feet of the upper bridge.
 
 360 HENKY VILLARD [1862 
 
 After watching the crossing of the troops for two hours, 
 I rode over the second bridge myself and at once looked the 
 town over. Fredericksburg is not only one of the oldest, 
 but was, up to the outbreak of the Rebellion, one of the most 
 substantial Virginia towns. It was compactly built up, 
 with brick structures of plain but solid appearance. The 
 red brick, white door- and window-sills, and white marble 
 steps, reminded one of Philadelphia. The lower part was 
 devoted to business; the upper consisted of private resi- 
 dences, among them a number of spacious two- and three- 
 story mansions. As the mart of a rich agricultural dis- 
 trict, the place was once thriving, but its prosperity had 
 waned since the opening of railroads had to a great extent 
 diverted its trade to Alexandria and Richmond. Along the 
 river front, where formerly steamboat traffic had been car- 
 ried on, there were marked signs of decay. The population 
 of between four and five thousand included some of the 
 oldest and best-known families in the State. The white 
 inhabitants had nearly all fled. I saw only two, one of 
 whom, in reply to a question, told me that he did not be- 
 lieve there were twenty-five left. Even of negroes not more 
 than a score were in sight, and they seemed to be much 
 cowed and rather afraid to be friendly with their liberators. 
 Our troops had either found the business buildings open, 
 or had forced them and used them for night quarters. 
 As might be supposed, private property in the abandoned 
 shops, especially in the warehouses from which the enemy 
 had fired, such as tobacco, flour, bacon, sugar, and other 
 articles of consumption, was not respected, but was taken 
 without stint. Of tobacco particularly a large quantity 
 was appropriated. 
 
 As the b'uilt-up portion of the town extended only a dozen 
 blocks along and five blocks from the river, there was not 
 enough street space for the 30,000 men of the two corps 
 and their concomitant animals, batteries, ammunition 
 wagons, ambulances, and all the rest. Howard's division 
 moved from the lowest to an upper street to make room
 
 1862] FREDEEICKSBURG A PEN 361 
 
 for Hancock and French, and they in turn made room for 
 the divisions of the Ninth Corps. When I got over, the 
 streets were already so densely filled with masses of in- 
 fantry, mounted staffs and cavalry escorts, guns and 
 vehicles, that I could hardly make my way through them. 
 In the afternoon the overcrowding reached a choking 
 point, and orders had to be sent to stop the crossing of 
 artillery after about two-thirds of the batteries of the two 
 corps had got over. There was nothing to do but to let 
 the troops make themselves as comfortable as they could 
 in the buildings and on the sidewalks and streets, pre- 
 serving their organizations as much as possible. Much 
 hardship was endured during the night by those bivouack- 
 ing on the frosty ground in mud ankle-deep. But, as may 
 be supposed, there was a good deal of swarming about by 
 the soldiers, and resultant confusion, with too much op- 
 portunity to skulk out of sight. I could not help think- 
 ing, and all the officers I talked with about this cramped 
 condition of our force had similar thoughts, that the enemy 
 would surely make use of this tempting opportunity to 
 bombard the town in his turn, after we got jammed and 
 packed into it like sheep in a pen. Had he improved it, 
 there would have been no attack by us, but a desperate 
 struggle to regain the north bank, ending probably in the 
 slaughter and capture of most of our troops. Not only 
 was this reflection shared by the general officers I met, but 
 also the logical deduction from it that it was a grave error 
 to place the Right Grand Division in such a perilous posi- 
 tion. The opinion prevailed, too, that even if the much- 
 feared bombardment should not foil the whole movement 
 before it could be made, it would not be possible to debouch 
 from the town for an attack on the enemy, as all the ap- 
 proaches to his front were perpendicular to it, open and 
 swept by his guns. During the whole afternoon I appre- 
 hended every moment that there would be an outburst of the 
 rebel artillery, and felt most anxious accordingly. But the 
 enemy happily confined himself to the desultory firing al-
 
 362 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 ready mentioned. Night came on without a noteworthy in- 
 cident. I had come prepared to spend it in Fredericksburg, 
 but as I could find nothing better for a resting-place than 
 space to stretch out on the floor of a room in one of the pri- 
 vate residences with half a dozen others, I decided to return 
 to my camp, after I had learned positively from General 
 Couch that we should rest on the defensive till the next day. 
 
 The Centre Grand Division, being designated as the re- 
 serve and support to both the Right and Left Grand Divi- 
 sions, moved near the three upper bridges, but no part of 
 it crossed the river on the 12th, and the entire body re- 
 mained in position till the next day. During the night, 
 however, General Hooker received orders to send Sickles 's 
 and Birney's divisions, of General Stoneman's corps, to 
 the two lower bridges, ready to cross and support General 
 Franklin. This was promptly done. The river thus sep- 
 arated the main body of the army from its reserve a 
 strategic risk which all the authorities on the art of war 
 condemn, and which can be explained, but not justified, 
 in this case on the theory that the enemy would not dare 
 to attack us. 
 
 General Franklin's two army corps, according to orders, 
 had marched before daybreak on the llth to near the 
 points fixed upon for the two lower bridges, which were 
 completed during the forenoon, but the General received 
 no orders to cross until 4 P.M., when he was directed to 
 take his whole command over. The movement had com- 
 menced when a new order came to remain on the north side, 
 and to send only one brigade over for the protection of 
 the bridges. Devens's brigade, of Newton's division, being 
 on the other side, was assigned for this service. Renewed 
 orders to cross having been received, Smith's corps com- 
 menced passing over at daybreak. Brooks 's first division 
 led, followed by Howe's second and Newton's third. The 
 first and second divisions immediately formed in line of 
 battle, with the third in reserve. In this formation the 
 corps advanced during the forenoon, concealed by the fog
 
 1862] THE ADVANCE 363 
 
 from the enemy, a distance of about one mile to the Rich- 
 mond road. Here they took up a protected position, in 
 which they remained all day and bivouacked in the night. 
 Towards noon the fog lifted and revealed the corps to the 
 enemy, who, however, did nothing but maintain a feeble 
 and almost harmless artillery fire. Reynolds 's First Corps 
 followed immediately in the wake of the Sixth; Gibbon's 
 division leading, with Meade's and Doubleday's next in 
 order. It formed with Gibbon on the left, Meade on the 
 right, and Doubleday in reserve. The corps then advanced 
 so as to connect with Smith's left. With the exception of 
 slight skirmishing in moving forward, the corps was not 
 disturbed during the rest of the day or the night, which 
 it also passed in bivouac. 
 
 Hoping to hear something of the programme for the 
 morrow, I went to General Burnside's headquarters about 
 10 P.M. I found a great assemblage of general and staff 
 officers in conference with the General-in-chief or awaiting 
 orders. The drift of their conversation was such as to 
 warrant the inference that the enemy would be assailed 
 in the morning. I was aware that orders for the action 
 had been issued to the Grand Division commanders during 
 the night of the 10th and llth, and they appeared to be 
 left standing as originally given. I could not find out, 
 however, the hour for the opening of the conflict. It had 
 not then been fixed, and, indeed, the order to attack was 
 issued only in the morning, so as to observe special caution. 
 I was awake at six and again in Fredericksburg before day- 
 lighttoo early by several hours. 
 
 The day was like the preceding ones mild, but very 
 foggy at daybreak and until late in the forenoon. General 
 French's division being in the front and certain to lead 
 in the impending fight on our right, I made my way to its 
 commander with some difficulty. The division was ready 
 to move, but the commander was awaiting his orders. They 
 came only at half-past nine, and directed that the division 
 should move out on the telegraph and plank roads and
 
 364 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 form in column by brigades, led by heavy lines of skir- 
 mishers, and be ready to attack, but not to do so without 
 further orders. After drawing in the picket line, the divi- 
 sion was accordingly formed in the outskirts of the town 
 (through which the streets, with scattered buildings, still 
 extended) , under cover of the fog, by eleven o 'clock. Han- 
 cock 's division supported it immediately in the rear. Extra- 
 ordinary as it may seem, no attempt had been made during 
 our occupancy of the town to reconnoitre the ground be- 
 tween it and the heights, and therefore nothing was known 
 of its character in detail. A reconnoissance in force to 
 ascertain what natural or artificial obstacles there were 
 to a front attack, and to discover the best line for its 
 delivery, should have, but had not, preceded it. The as- 
 sailants throughout the impending struggle had to take 
 their chances in this respect ; and to this, I was persuaded 
 then, and am so now, after an examination of all the official 
 reports of the corps, division, brigade, and regimental com- 
 manders engaged, our fearful failure was largely due. 
 
 French received the order to move forward only at noon. 
 I was with his staff when it came, and remained with them, 
 as will appear. The division advanced on and between 
 parallel streets. A strong body of skirmishers led, and 
 was followed at a distance of three hundred yards by the 
 three brigades of General Kimball and Colonels Andrews 
 and Palmer, with intervals of two hundred yards between 
 them. The two streets mentioned led to the so-called plank 
 and telegraph roads, which crossed a canal, or rather mill- 
 race, a short distance beyond. This watercourse was fifteen 
 feet wide and from four to six feet deep, and proved a first 
 serious impediment, as it could be crossed only by bridges, 
 necessitating the contraction of the deployed lines into 
 long, narrow columns, and involving loss of time. Beyond 
 the bridges, the line of battle was quickly re-formed and 
 the advance continued in the described order. The ground 
 for perhaps 1200 feet rose gradually to a low crest and 
 was obstructed considerably by a number of isolated dwell-
 
 1862J THE DEADLY STONE WALL 365 
 
 ings with outbuildings and board and rail fences and stone 
 walls. The passage of the canal and the deployment be- 
 yond led evidently to our first discovery by the enemy, 
 for, immediately, there was a combined outburst upon us of 
 artillery and musketry fire, with a mighty roar and rattle 
 from the front, right, and left. The fire was converging 
 and shook our column by its suddenness and severity, kill- 
 ing and wounding hundreds. Several shells struck right in 
 the lines, tearing wide gaps in them. But they pushed on 
 over the intervening space and reached the crest mentioned, 
 under the shelter of which the formation was restored as 
 much as possible. Then the skirmishers rushed over the 
 crest, followed by Kimball's and the other brigades, on 
 towards the second heights. They found themselves again 
 exposed to a murderous rain of shot, shell, and bullets, from 
 the front and each flank, but continued on with fixed 
 bayonets and without stopping to fire, despite the constant 
 thinning out of their ranks. They made their way for a 
 thousand feet or so over rough and muddy ground and 
 over fences, walls and other obstacles, when they found 
 themselves within a short distance of the enemy's first line, 
 along a ravine from which they received such a hail of bul- 
 lets from rebel infantry in rifle-pits and behind a high stone 
 wall, covering their front for nearly a mile, and such 
 showers of grape-shot from field-pieces and from guns in 
 position in earthworks on the heights a thousand feet to 
 the rear of the wall, that they staggered and halted and 
 in part lay down for shelter in the unevennesses of the 
 ground. The skirmishers and Kimball's first brigade were 
 the first thus brought to bay; the latter after losing one- 
 fourth of their number, including their commander, who 
 was badly wounded. Some time passed before the other 
 brigades, also rather disordered by the hindrances de- 
 scribed and decimated by rebel fire, came up to support. 
 The lines of the three brigades became mixed into one. 
 Numbers sought safety in retreat without orders, the re- 
 mainder holding the position gained, but making no head-
 
 366 HENKY VILLARD ;[1862 
 
 way towards that of the enemy. They kept up an irregu- 
 lar fire, which, however, could have but little effect upon 
 the sheltered rebels. 
 
 Hancock's first division had followed the third closely, 
 but, unlike it, was not permitted to pass up the streets 
 unopposed. It was exposed to the rebel shot and shell all 
 the way to the canal and beyond it, suffering thereby 
 heavier losses than the third before reaching the front. 
 Colonel Zook's brigade was in the lead. When it reached 
 French's line, an order came from the corps commander 
 to French and Hancock, at about two o'clock, to storm the 
 rebel position. Zook immediately started for it, followed 
 by French's mixed-up line. Hurrying forward at double 
 quick, they came within twenty-five yards of the stone 
 wall, but could not withstand the terrible fire that swept 
 from it against them, and fell back, leaving the ground 
 covered with their dead and wounded. The next brigade 
 of Hancock the Irish under General Meagher repeated 
 the attempt, but was also bloodily repulsed, and the last 
 brigade, under General Caldwell, speedily met with the 
 same fate. Its commander received two severe wounds 
 while urging his men forward. To this brigade belonged 
 the 61st and 64th New York regiments that had relieved 
 French's picket line in the morning and rejoined the bri- 
 gade as it moved to the front. When it had come within 
 a hundred feet of the rebels, Colonel Nelson A. Miles, of 
 the 61st New York, observing that they were on the de- 
 fensive, asked General Caldwell 's leave to lead a rush with 
 his regiment and such other troops as would follow, but 
 was refused. Miles 's men then did good work in picking 
 off the rebel cannoneers with their rifled muskets at close 
 range, when he was shot in the neck and obliged to leave 
 the field. I mention this incident because the then Colonel 
 is the present Commander-in-chief of the United States 
 army, and has always been confident that, if permitted, 
 he would have carried the rebel works and turned the 
 fortune of the day.
 
 1862J FAILURE OF THE ASSAULT 367 
 
 I had ridden on with the staff of General French 
 behind his division to the first crest. We were exposed 
 to the hostile fire up to that position, but relatively shel- 
 tered by it from bullets, while shot and shell continued 
 to fall around us. I remained there, as it enabled me to 
 see the approach of the several bodies of our troops and 
 even watch (while lying down) from the crest the actual 
 onsets. My station also proved very advantageous, owing 
 to the frequent reports that came in from sub-commanders 
 of the progress of the struggle, and to the opportunity it 
 gave me to meet, first, General Hancock, and, later on, other 
 division commanders, and even General Couch, at the base 
 of the crest. After the failure of the assaults described, I 
 began to fear that the day would go against us. The 
 stream of wounded told of heavy losses. Officers and men 
 showed signs of physical exhaustion and demoralization. 
 Some regiments at the front broke and dispersed. Skulk- 
 ing to the rear increased. The officers found it hard and 
 often impossible to get their men up again for new efforts 
 after they had once lain down. Generals French and Han- 
 cock themselves were forced to the conclusion, between 
 two and three o'clock, that the rebel position could not be 
 carried by direct assault. 
 
 General Couch also no longer believed in the possibility 
 of the success of a front attack, and hence ordered General 
 Howard's division to make an effort to turn the enemy's 
 left. But he had hardly commenced this movement when 
 Couch countermanded it, owing to urgent appeals for sup- 
 port from both French and Hancock, and ordered the divi- 
 sion to the front. It advanced with Owen's brigade in the 
 lead, Hall's and Sully 's next. The first two brigades came 
 as near to the enemy as French's and Hancock's brigades, 
 and likewise made several onsets on his rifle-pits, but could 
 make no more headway against the rebel fire than the 
 others. The three divisions, however, steadily kept their 
 positions, replying to the enemy's fire as best they could. 
 They held them even after a number of the regiments had
 
 368 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 exhausted their ammunition and were left with nothing 
 but their bayonets for defence. 
 
 Simultaneously with the forward movement of the Sec- 
 ond Corps, General Willcox's Ninth Corps had moved into 
 position on Couch's left, with Sturgis's division next to 
 it, Getty 's as the centre, and Burns 's as the left ; each divi- 
 sion being in two lines. The line of the corps extended 
 over two small creeks, known as Hazel Run and Deep Run, 
 flowing due north into the river and to Franklin's right. 
 When Couch advanced, Sturgis was ordered to follow in 
 support of his left, and took his command at once to the 
 outskirts of the town. He had just formed his line under 
 heavy fire when the stream of demoralized men from 
 Couch's front reached it. He at once ordered Ferrero's 
 brigade to the front. It soon collided with a rebel column 
 that was coming down from the heights, threatening to turn 
 Couch's left, and succeeded in checking its advance and 
 driving it back to the line of rifle-pits. The brigade be- 
 came exposed to an intense fire, and Sturgis directed his 
 other (Nagle's) brigade to a position from which he hoped 
 that a flank fire might be opened for Ferrero's relief, but 
 the broken ground made this move a fruitless one. There- 
 upon, Nagle went to the direct support of the latter. The 
 whole division became thus engaged, and, like Couch's divi- 
 sions, made several attempts to take the rifle-pits and stone 
 wall, but recoiled before the enemy's furious fire. 
 
 Of the two other divisions of the Ninth Corps, Burns 's 
 acted in concert with Franklin's Grand Division; Getty's 
 was held in reserve to guard the lower end of the town and 
 observe the roads leading down from the heights between 
 Sumner and Franklin until late in the afternoon, when 
 Willcox ordered it to the relief of Sturgis. Its experience 
 was but a repetition of the other vain efforts against the 
 rebel position. Formed in two lines of brigades, it ad- 
 vanced to and beyond the first crest, only to be stopped 
 by the destructive storm of rebel missiles. Towards noon 
 General Hooker was ordered to send support to Sumner,
 
 1862J REINFORCEMENTS 369 
 
 and, accordingly, Whipple's division crossed over to Fred- 
 ericksburg. Carroll 's brigade was directed to the front for 
 the relief of Sturgis, and Viatt's marched through Fred- 
 ericksburg and took position to the extreme right of Couch's 
 line for the protection of that flank. Carroll arrived at 
 the front just as part of Sturgis 's line was yielding. It 
 rushed forward with a shout to reoecupy the position, and 
 regained and held it. 
 
 The unfavorable reports from Sumner's front led Gen- 
 eral Burnside to direct General Hooker, shortly before 
 2 P.M., to send his remaining force Butterfield's Fifth 
 Corps to the support of the right. General Hooker 
 obeyed, but with a natural reluctance, as this movement 
 tended to deprive him of the opportunity to exercise inde- 
 pendent command in the battle, for Whipple's division of 
 Stoneman's corps was already detached and placed under 
 Sumner's orders, and its other two divisions had been or- 
 dered, as Hooker bitterly relates in his official report, to the 
 Left Grand Division without his knowledge. While Butter- 
 field was crossing, an order came from the general head- 
 quarters to hurry one of his divisions to the relief of Stur- 
 gis. Griffin's was selected for that duty and moved to the 
 front as quickly as possible, but it was nearly four o'clock 
 when he reached it. The first brigade, under Colonel James 
 Burns, was directed to relieve Ferrero's, and did so under 
 a murderous fire. A short time before nightfall, Griffin 
 was ordered to make a last attempt to carry the enemy's 
 position. His first and second brigades, aided on the left 
 by Carroll's brigade of Whipple's division, undertook once 
 more the desperate task. The line advanced bravely, losing 
 hundreds by the deadly rebel hail of lead and iron, and 
 pushed up to within a score of yards of the fatal stone 
 wall, only to be stopped and forced to take refuge behind 
 the crest from which they had started. The third brigade 
 was brought up, but, Before the attack could be renewed, 
 darkness ended the fighting. 
 
 General Butterfield's orders were, to go, with his re- 
 al
 
 370 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 maining two divisions, to the relief of Stunner's right by 
 a new attack. Burnside, Sumner, and Hooker had in the 
 morning obtained full information regarding the defences 
 of the enemy from an intelligent and communicative 
 prisoner. This had raised doubts in Hooker's mind as to 
 the possibility of the success of any direct attack, and they 
 were confirmed by his observations after arriving on the 
 ground with Butterfield, and by information from some 
 of the generals who had already been in action. Believing 
 that another attack would result in further waste of blood, 
 he sent an aide to General Burnside with the request for a 
 revocation of his orders. The reply of his superior was 
 that the attack must be made. Hooker thereupon went 
 himself to see and remonstrate with Burnside, but this ef- 
 fort, too, was futile, and Butterfield had also to try what 
 his brother commander had already found to be an abso- 
 lutely forlorn hope. 
 
 I felt sure that to send in division after division, to butt 
 against and recoil from the rebel bulwarks, would be simply 
 seeking defeat in detail, and that our only hope lay in the 
 success of the Left Grand Division, whose aim was to force 
 back the enemy's right and thus compel the withdrawal of 
 his left also. But when no encouraging tidings had come 
 from Franklin up to three o'clock and the advance of 
 Howard's division had also miscarried, I began to be 
 alarmed about the safety of our right. It seemed logical 
 to expect that, after repelling a series of attacks, the enemy 
 would take the offensive in his turn and pour down from 
 the heights in main force upon our beaten, decimated, con- 
 fused, exhausted, and discouraged troops. This was indeed 
 looked for by Couch and his division commanders. But, 
 fortunately for our side, the rebels proved not as ag- 
 gressive as expected. They came out of their entrenchments 
 only twice in force, in pursuit of our retreating men, 
 and were readily driven back. One of these attempts I 
 have already mentioned; the other occurred about three 
 o'clock, when a column advanced within 150 yards of Han-
 
 1862] GENERAL MEAGHER'S RETREAT 371 
 
 cock's front, but, its leader being killed, fell back. Still, 
 the danger remained of our being overwhelmed and driven 
 back in confusion upon the town, and of my being caught 
 in the catastrophe, and, therefore, about half-past three, I 
 started for the rear. There was then a lull in the rebel 
 fire, but, when I had traversed half the distance to the mill- 
 race, shot and shell and rifle bullets again went over and 
 by me in showers for a few minutes. 
 
 I observed further striking evidence of the rapid disin- 
 tegration of our troops. I passed at least a thousand offi- 
 cers and privates making for the town ; perhaps one-fourth 
 of them were slightly wounded, many of whom were need- 
 lessly helped along by skulkersa very common trick on 
 battle-fields. The remainder simply were tired, hungry, 
 and thirsty, and had no more stomach for fighting. I came 
 upon General Thomas Francis Meagher, who stood mounted 
 in front of some buildings used as hospitals for the Irish 
 brigade, with about three hundred men and officers, both 
 wounded and in good condition, around him. I asked him 
 what he was about, and he answered: "This is all that is 
 left of my 1200 men, and I am going to take them to the 
 other side of the river," which he actually did. I learned 
 afterwards that, after leading his brigade part way on foot 
 to the front under fire, he turned back on the pretence that 
 he could not walk any further, owing to an abscess in his 
 knee, and had to get his horse. During his absence the 
 brigade pushed on, but was driven back, like the rest of 
 Hancock's division, after losing nearly one-third of their 
 force, and retired in disorder. His retreat across the river 
 without orders was nothing but a piece of arrant cowardice, 
 for which, however, he never received punishment on ac- 
 count of his popularity among the Irish. 
 
 I carried some eatables for myself in one side of my 
 saddle-bags, and oats for my horse in the other. Passing 
 a fine brick dwelling with a stable attached, and seeing a 
 negro looking out of one of the front windows, it occurred 
 to me to take a rest, as all firing had again ceased. I called
 
 372 HENRY VTLLARD [1862 
 
 the negro, and he reluctantly came out with a very fright- 
 ened look. I asked him to take my horse to the stable and 
 give him the oats while I ate my lunch inside. He was too 
 scared to refuse, and so I dismounted and entered the house 
 and the parlor on the lower floor. It was elegantly fur- 
 nished, and the owners had evidently taken sudden flight 
 and left everything in their home undisturbed in charge 
 of the servants. I made myself comfortable in an arm- 
 chair, and made short work of my hard-tack and bacon. 
 Overcome with fatigue, I fell asleep, but was roused directly 
 by a tremendous crash. A shell had struck the building, 
 entering through the rear of the house and reaching a front 
 chamber on the upper floor, where it exploded and destroyed 
 all the contents. The negro appeared with chattering teeth 
 and scarcely able to speak from terror. I was not inclined 
 to continue my rest under such circumstances, and, as the 
 roar of battle made itself again heard, I got my horse and 
 passed on. 
 
 It was then a little after four o'clock. I did not know 
 that Butterfield's corps had been ordered to cross and to 
 join in the attack, but I learned of this movement by com- 
 ing up with the infantry and artillery of the corps in 
 the streets. Ascertaining the direction which Hooker and 
 Butterfield had taken for the outskirts, I went in search 
 of them and was lucky enough to come up with them in a 
 few minutes. Hooker had determined to precede the at- 
 tack of the Fifth Corps by a concentrated artillery fire 
 upon the enemy's position. Very little use had oeen made 
 of artillery on our side up to that hour. Ten batteries, with 
 fourteen rifled 3-inch and forty-two 12-pounder guns, 
 had crossed with Sumner's Grand Division, and nine bat- 
 teries, with forty-eight light rifles, with Butterfield's corps 
 and Whipple's division. Of the nineteen batteries only 
 seven took part, in any degree, in the battle; the re- 
 mainder being left in the streets of the town or sent back 
 to the north bank. The limited employment of our guns 
 was due to the rising ground over which our troops had to
 
 1862] THE LAST STORMING 373 
 
 pass to the attack. It ascended to such a degree that our 
 batteries could not well fire from the rear without the 
 risk of hitting our own troops. Further, the location of 
 the rebel batteries was so high, and they were so well pro- 
 tected by earthworks, that an effective fire could not easily 
 be brought to bear upon them. Moreover, the field af- 
 forded hardly any other than greatly exposed positions 
 for our batteries. The outcome of several attempts made 
 before Hooker's to employ them showed this. Dickinson's 
 mounted battery of four 10-pounders was called forward 
 after French's and Hancock's repulse, and opened fire 
 from the outskirts on the left ; but its commander and one- 
 fourth of the gunners and horses were killed and disabled 
 in a short time, compelling it to retire. Arnold's battery 
 of six rifled guns was put to use near the same point, but 
 their fire was impeded by our columns coming within range. 
 Two New York batteries also supported our advances as 
 well as possible. This and the prelude to Butterfield's at- 
 tack constituted the artillery's part in the day's work on 
 our right. 
 
 It was Captain Hazard's regular-army battery of six 
 12-pounders and four pieces of Captain Frank's battery, 
 of the same calibre, to which the perilous duty of leading 
 off in the last effort to storm the enemy's position was 
 assigned. They had already started for the front when I 
 met Hooker and Butterfield. They reached a favorable 
 point for their work within two hundred yards of the 
 death-dealing stone wall. In a few minutes after they had 
 opened a most vigorous fire, the horses of all the officers 
 were shot under them, and such further havoc caused 
 among the gunners and animals that Captain Hazard im- 
 pressed some of the infantry near him to serve his pieces. 
 The batteries held their ground until they were ordered to 
 withdraw. 
 
 The execution of the dread task of the Fifth Corps de- 
 volved upon Humphreys 's division of two brigades. Alla- 
 bach's second brigade took the lead, and was formed for
 
 374 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 the attack under the crest with Tyler's first brigade as 
 support. Making for the front, Allabach, accompanied 
 by Humphreys, came up with the mixed-up remainder 
 of Couch's divisions that were still holding the line from 
 which their attack started. They were lying on the 
 ground. Allabach 's regiments, which had been in service 
 only four months and never under fire, at once instinctively 
 followed their example, lay down, and opened fire from 
 the ground. Humphreys saw at once that musketry could 
 have no effect, and ordered a bayonet charge. Allabach 's 
 men could, however, be induced only with great difficulty 
 to stop firing and rise and push on. The charge was made 
 but checked, after only about one hundred and fifty feet 
 had been passed over, by the tempest of the rebel fire. Our 
 men broke and ran back. Humphreys at once led up Ty- 
 ler's brigade to renew the charge. What happened to it 
 had better be told in Humphreys 's words: 
 
 Riding along the two lines of the brigade, I ordered the men not 
 to fire, saying that it was useless that the bayonet alone was the 
 weapon to fight with here. Anticipating, too, the serious obstacle 
 they would meet in the masses of men lying along the front, I 
 ordered them to disregard and pass right over them. I ordered 
 the officers to the front, and, with a hurrah, the brigade, led by 
 General Tyler and myself, advanced gallantly over the ground 
 under the heaviest fire. As the brigade reached the masses of our 
 men lying down, they actually tried to stop our advance. They 
 called to our men not to go forward, and some attempted to pre- 
 vent by force their doing so. The effect upon my command was 
 what I apprehended the line was somewhat disordered and in 
 part forced to form into a column, but still advanced rapidly. The 
 fire of the enemy's musketry and artillery, furious as it was before, 
 now became still hotter. The stone wall was a sheet of flame that 
 enveloped the head and flanks of the column. Officers and men 
 were falling rapidly, and the head of the column was brought to a 
 stand when close up to the wall Up to this time, not a shot had 
 been fired by the column, but now some firing began. It lasted 
 but a minute when, in spite of all our efforts, the column turned 
 and retired slowly. I attempted to rally the brigade behind the
 
 1862] HUMPHREYS REPULSED 375 
 
 natural embankment [the crest so often mentioned], but the united 
 efforts of myself, General Tyler, my staff, and the other officers 
 could not arrest the retiring mass. 
 
 General Humphreys had two horses shot under him, and 
 all the members of his staff, except one, had their animals 
 killed or disabled. The loss of the division was over a 
 thousand killed and wounded in the ten to fifteen min- 
 utes during which the brigades were charging, including 
 five colonels, three lieutenant-colonels, and three majors. 
 Sykes's division of the Fifth Corps moved to the front and 
 relieved Howard's men, but did not get into action. 
 
 Night came soon after Humphreys 's repulse, and ended 
 the dreadful havoc of the day. On our right, not only was 
 the whole Right Grand and half of the Centre Grand 
 Division completely beaten piecemeal, with the severe 
 average loss in action of nearly fifteen per cent., but one- 
 half of the remainder was reduced to a confused mass, 
 demoralized by the exposure to useless slaughter and by 
 the great hardships suffered for forty-eight hours. Yet 
 greater disaster threatened from the cooping up of our 
 troops in this condition within the narrow space of the 
 town, which, with the pontoon bridges the only precarious 
 means of escape from this trap was completely exposed to 
 the rebel fire. I remained with Hooker until the report of 
 Humphreys 's failure had reached us, when I rode back into 
 the town a little before five. Riding about the streets to 
 learn something of the condition of our wounded, I saw the 
 extent of the demoralization that had befallen us. It is 
 not too much to say that the town was in possession of a 
 cowed mob, thousands and thousands of officers and men 
 of probably all the regiments that had been engaged filling 
 from roof to cellar every building not used for head- 
 quarters and hospital purposes just the worn-out crowd in 
 the midst of which a stampede was as likely to break out at 
 any moment as in a frightened flock of sheep. I knew that 
 the line from which we attacked was still held, but not
 
 376 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 one-third of the force that had advanced to it still defended 
 it. What, I asked myself, must not inevitably happen if the 
 almost unharmed and relatively fresh enemy should come 
 upon us by a night or early morning attack ? Was Robert 
 E. Lee, with his record of vigorous, daring leadership, likely 
 to let escape him such an opportunity to profit by our in- 
 competent generalship, inflicting a greater disaster than any 
 yet upon the North by forcing the surrender or destruction 
 of forty thousand Unionists? I knew that Hooker, Couch, 
 and Butterfield, and the division commanders likewise, 
 shuddered at the dreadful plight of their commands ; and it 
 was, therefore, in the deepest anxiety for the fate of the 
 army that I returned at about six o 'clock to the north bank, 
 in order to receive the reports of my assistants at Burn- 
 side's headquarters. One was to watch the operations of 
 the Left, another those of the Centre Grand Division, and 
 the third to collect lists of casualties. All three disap- 
 pointed me grievously. The first turned up only at seven, 
 and had but a very meagre and otherwise unsatisfactory 
 account of the events on the Left. The second did not ap- 
 pear till after nine, and handed in an entirely worthless 
 account of the doings of the Centre. This obliged me to 
 work till nearly midnight, in gathering fuller information 
 myself from the general staff officers who came to the gen- 
 eral headquarters in the course of the evening. 
 
 It seems proper to let an account of what happened on 
 our left come immediately after my story of the experi- 
 ences of the right. The following summary description is 
 derived not only from my own observations and the state- 
 ments of others at the time, but from other authentic 
 sources, including the evidence given before the Con- 
 gressional Committee on the Conduct of the War and the 
 published Official Records. 
 
 The position occupied by our left on the eve of the battle, 
 to restate it briefly, was as follows: The line of Smith's 
 corps, forming the right, extended in the plain about a mile 
 from and almost parallel to the river, across Deep Run
 
 1862] FRANKLIN MISLED 377 
 
 Creek. Reynolds 's First Corps was in close contact with 
 Smith's left, and continued the line in the same general 
 direction to the small hamlet of Smithfield, where Meade's 
 division, on the extreme left, formed an obtuse angle with 
 the division next to it, in order to guard that flank more 
 effectively. Birney's and Sickles 's divisions of Stoneman's 
 corps, intended as the support and reserve of the two corps, 
 remained on the north bank, close to the bridges over which 
 Franklin had crossed. 
 
 General Burnside had conferred with General Franklin 
 and his corps commanders during the previous afternoon, 
 at the headquarters of the Left Grand Division, regarding 
 the plan of battle. General Franklin proposed that he 
 should be authorized to attack the enemy from his position 
 with a main strength of 30,000 men. If this were permitted, 
 Hooker's two divisions would have to be ordered across the 
 river during the night and advanced so as to be ready to 
 act as his reserve. Burnside neither consented to, nor dis- 
 sented from, this recommendation during the conference, 
 but, when he rode away at six P.M., promised, in response 
 to Franklin's urgent request for early instructions, to send 
 his final orders before midnight. Franklin waited anx- 
 iously for them all night, but heard nothing until Brigadier- 
 General Hardie of the general headquarters appeared at 
 half -past seven in the morning with an oral message that 
 orders would follow immediately. They arrived at eight, 
 and were to the effect that Franklin should keep his whole 
 command in position for a rapid movement down the old 
 Richmond road (running from Fredericksburg parallel to 
 the river, near our front), and send at least a division to 
 seize the heights below Smithfield. 
 
 General Franklin construed these rather indefinite in- 
 structions as directing simply a reconnoissanee in force, 
 and acted under that impression. He sent corresponding 
 orders to General Reynolds, who designated Meade's divi- 
 sion to advance towards the enemy, supported by Gibbon's 
 division on the right and covered by Doubleday's on the
 
 378 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 left. Meade was under way at 8 : 30 A.M. The objective 
 point of his advance was near the eastern outrunners of 
 the heights encircling Fredericksburg and the adjacent 
 plain, where they abut upon the valley of the Massaponax. 
 Between the heights and Meade 's starting-point there was 
 a depression crossed by the track of the railroad. The 
 ground first sloped and was cleared and cultivated for 
 several hundred yards, and then came thick woods up to 
 and beyond the track and to the very heights; The enemy 
 held the track, the woods, and the heights. The column 
 of attack was, as usual, led by a regiment deployed as 
 skirmishers, followed by a brigade in two lines, with the 
 division artillery and another brigade behind it, and the 
 third brigade in reserve. The movement was slow at first, 
 as the impediments of fences and draining ditches had to 
 be overcome. The column, having moved parallel to the 
 river for a quarter of a mile, turned to the right and 
 crossed the old Richmond highway. The enemy then 
 opened a violent fire upon it. The column was halted, and 
 the division artillery brought into play against the rebel bat- 
 teries, which ceased firing after twenty minutes, when the 
 advance was resumed. Meantime, Gibbon's division had 
 been ordered to advance and to make a front attack simul- 
 taneously with Meade 's. This advance was likewise opposed 
 by the rebel artillery and brought Doubleday's into action. 
 Meade 's guns, having gained a new position, reopened fire, 
 and some of the batteries belonging to the left of Smith's 
 corps joined in. The furious cannonade lasted for some 
 time, but the enemy's fire finally came to a stop, owing to 
 the blowing up of several of his ammunition-boxes. Our 
 b'atteries then shelled the woods in our front in order to 
 clear them of rebel infantry. About one o 'clock Meade and 
 Gibbon resumed the advance. 
 
 Meade 's front brigade passed the cleared ground, en- 
 tered the woods and drove the rebel infantry through them 
 to the railroad track, where they offered a strong resistance 
 but were forced from this position and beyond the woods
 
 1862] MEADE AND GIBBON ADVANCE 379 
 
 up the heights and over the crest, with the loss of several 
 flags and three hundred prisoners. Having reached some 
 open ground, the brigade received musketry fire from the 
 front, and shell and grape-shot from the right flank. No 
 support arriving, the 'brigade, after sustaining this severe 
 fire for a time, fell back. Meade's next brigade, after pass- 
 ing the track, was assailed on both the right and left flanks, 
 and in facing and following the enemy in both directions 
 its regiments got separated, some working to the right and 
 some to the left. One regiment on the right got nearly 
 as far as the leading brigade, but turned back with it. The 
 last brigade of the division was exposed to a destructive 
 fire from the rebel guns that were supposed to be silenced, 
 before it reached the woods in front of the track. Gen- 
 eral Jackson, the commander, being killed as the brigade 
 was ascending through the woods, it began to waver under 
 the severe fire when only a part had attained the heights, 
 and retreated with the other brigades. 
 
 Gibbon's attack was made to the right of Meade in the 
 same formation by three successive lines of brigades. They 
 did not get beyond the track. The leading brigade was 
 brought to a stop at the railroad embankment by an artil- 
 lery fire from the enemy behind it and in the woods. Its 
 left was at once thrown into confusion. Another brigade, 
 ordered to its support, soon in turn became disordered, 
 and the greater part of it gave way. The division com- 
 mander now ordered his last brigade to drive the enemy 
 from his position at the point of the bayonet. After un- 
 slinging knapsacks and fixing bayonets, the brigade ad- 
 vanced to the attack with three regiments forming a front 
 and two a rear line. It passed over open ground through 
 the confused, retreating throngs of the other brigades of 
 the division. The rebel fire was so galling that the brigade 
 staggered and the men commenced firing without orders. 
 By strenuous efforts of the officers, however, they were 
 made to discontinue firing and resume the advance vigor- 
 ously, and, as the brigade neared the embankment, the men
 
 380 HENEY VILLARD [1862 
 
 with a shout and on a run leaped the ditches, rushed over 
 the track and into the woods beyond, killing a number of 
 the enemy with the bayonet and capturing two hundred 
 prisoners. But the further advance of the brigade was 
 stopped by new forces of the enemy assailing it on both 
 flanks. General Gibbon being wounded and obliged to 
 leave the field at 2 : 30 P.M., his successor in command, 
 General Taylor, on failing to receive support and being ad- 
 vised of Meade's retrograde movement on his left, ordered 
 the brigade to retreat. It was commanded by Colonel Root, 
 of the 94th New York, and composed of that, the 104th 
 and 105th New York, 107th Pennsylvania, and 16th Massa- 
 chusetts regiments. I have given these details of its per- 
 formance because it was the most gallant incident of the 
 whole battle. 
 
 While Meade's division was engaged, General Birney's 
 division of the Third Corps had advanced to its support 
 with three brigades. It did not relieve Meade on the front, 
 but served as a barrier to the enemy's forces that had 
 started in pursuit of our repulsed divisions. Part of 
 Ward's brigade gave way, but the remainder of it, and the 
 other two brigades, rendered splendid service in checking 
 and driving back the foe that was advancing rapidly with 
 triumphant yells. Not only was Meade protected in his 
 retreat, but two regiments of Berry's brigade went to the 
 aid of Gibbon's retiring division. How little power the 
 latter and Meade's had left to stay the hostile pursuit is 
 shown by what General Stoneman says of their condition : 
 "Every effort was made to rally them [the two divisions], 
 but all to no purpose. Regardless of threats and force and 
 deaf to all entreaties, they sullenly and persistently moved 
 to the rear, and were re-formed near the bank of the river 
 by their officers, many of whom used every endeavor to 
 halt their weary and overpowered troops." It may be 
 added that their retreat left all the artillery that had been 
 in action without any support, so that but for Birney it 
 would have been captured.
 
 1862] FRUITLESS SKIRMISHING 381 
 
 Sickles 's division of Stoneman's corps did not reach the 
 south bank until nearly 3 p. M., and, being ordered to 
 take position on the right of Birney, did not get into line 
 until after the latter 's successful encounter with the enemy 
 was over. One of Sickles 's batteries got engaged with a 
 rebel one and silenced it after a score of rounds. His skir- 
 mish line, too, had a lively exchange of shots, but the rest 
 of his command did not get into action. But it is not too 
 much to say that, but for the timely intervention of Stone- 
 man's two divisions, the pursuing enemy would have made 
 his way through the gap in our line and to the flanks of the 
 Left Grand Division, and probably overcome them easily. 
 
 Doubleday 's division of Reynolds 's corps had been desig- 
 nated to protect the left flank of the Grand Division by 
 diverting the enemy from the front, and moved forward 
 some two miles for that purpose when Meade set out for 
 his attack along the river, over the plain towards the Mas- 
 saponax. Its progress was slow, owing to obstructions 
 similar to those encountered by Meade. His skirmishers 
 exchanged fire with the enemy during most of the day, 
 and he was also exposed to the rebel guns, which some 
 of his batteries engaged. But he did not collide with the 
 enemy in force and suffered but little loss. Smith's corps 
 remained passive all day. Its pickets kept up a desultory 
 exchange of shots. It was within the range of the rebel 
 guns, but suffered barely any damage, though some of 
 the corps artillery participated in the cannonading during 
 the forenoon and afternoon. Shortly before dark, New- 
 ton's division was ordered to support Stoneman's divi- 
 sions, but did not become engaged. 
 
 Except along the picket lines, the infantry fire ceased on 
 both sides before four o'clock, but the rebels kept up a 
 determined fire upon us from some forty guns, which our 
 batteries answered as vigorously as possible. The cannon- 
 ade did not cease till nightfall, which found the Left Grand 
 Division substantially occupying the same position from 
 which Reynolds 's corps had sallied forth in the morning.
 
 382 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 It clearly appears from the foregoing narrative that 
 Franklin's failure on the left was the result of the same 
 causes that brought about our discomfiture on the right. 
 Here, as there, the offensive strength was spent in suc- 
 cessive fruitless assaults, with limited forces, upon strong 
 rebel positions. Happily, only three of Franklin's divisions 
 were subjected to this waste of blood, while seven divisions 
 were used up under Sumner and Hooker. But the rebel 
 defences above Fredericksburg were much more formid- 
 able and less approachable than those confronting the left, 
 and hence made the attempt to take them by front assaults, 
 a priori, a grievous error. With Franklin the case was dif- 
 ferent. For, while it cannot be absolutely maintained that 
 an attack in main force, such as he had himself recom- 
 mended to General Burnside, would have been successful, a 
 favorable outcome was possible, whereas the attacks in de- 
 tail by divisions were foredoomed to repulse. These were 
 the hard facts: only three of the eight divisions at the 
 disposal of Franklin took part in the action ; the movement 
 of Doubleday proved useless, the enemy not Being in 
 strength in that direction; and not a shot was fired by 
 Smith's infantry, except on the skirmish line. 
 
 Franklin's course brought on another of those numerous 
 painful and humiliating controversies that mark the ill- 
 starred career of the Army of the Potomac. No blame 
 can attach to this commander for taking the indefinite 
 orders he received from Burnside in the morning to mean a 
 reconnoissance in force only. But two other orders from 
 the Commander-in-chief were orally delivered to him at 
 about 2 P.M., by Captain Goddard, aide-de-camp, in these 
 words: "Tell General Franklin, with my compliments, that 
 I wish him to make a vigorous attack with his whole force. 
 Our right is hard pressed." This order appears to have 
 been based on the report of another aide-de-camp who had 
 been sent by Burnside to Franklin for information about 
 the doings of the latter 's command, and who had reported 
 that General Smith's corps was not engaged. Franklin ad-
 
 1862] FRANKLIN'S INACTION 383 
 
 mitted in the subsequent investigation before the Con- 
 gressional Committee on the Conduct of the War that he 
 received this order, but that he could not execute it, owing 
 to the unfavorable turn the action had already taken on 
 his front. But, except on the ground that he mistook the 
 bearing of his first orders, it seems impossible to justify 
 and excuse the inaction of the Sixth Corps. Its com- 
 mander, General Smith, told me himself, at a later stage 
 of the war, that he had been expecting every minute or- 
 ders to move to the attack, and was puzzled and disap- 
 pointed that he had to stand still all day. Of course, it 
 cannot be positively claimed that the offensive employment 
 of Smith's corps would have ensured victory on the 
 left, but it is of official record that both Meade and Gib- 
 bon ascribe their repulse to the want of support, and, more- 
 over, there can be no doubt that our failure, after the suc- 
 cess of Meade 's first onset, must be ascribed to our giving 
 the enemy the chance to concentrate all his forces on the 
 left against a little more than one-third of ours. 
 
 After learning that we had been discomfited on the left 
 as well as on the right, I felt fully persuaded that our 
 defeat was irretrievable, and that nothing remained to the 
 Commander-in-chief but to solve the seemingly desperate 
 problem of getting the army again over the river without 
 further harm. I was sure, moreover, that if a resumption 
 of the offensive should be recklessly attempted, it would be 
 vehemently opposed by Generals Sumner and Hooker, and 
 by their corps and division commanders. Nor was my 
 conviction shaken by the sneering and contemptuous re- 
 Huffs my corresponding expressions met with from certain 
 members of Burnside's staff. They talked as though the 
 day's fighting had been only a prelude to another and 
 greater action. Their swagger was so confident that, 
 stirred up as I was by the grave peril of the army, I came 
 near yielding to an impulse to approach Burnside and tell 
 him the dire truth, which I feared he did not know. But 
 I gave up that design when I heard, at about eight o'clock,
 
 384 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 that he had made up his mind to see Generals Sumner and 
 Hooker and their corps commanders in person in Fred- 
 ericksburg, and learn from them the condition of their 
 commands. 
 
 I did not think for a moment that the result of Burn- 
 side's visit to the other side of the river would be anything 
 else than an immediate withdrawal of the Right and Cen- 
 tre Grand Divisions to the north bank. But I was mis- 
 taken in this. For, when Burnside returned to his head- 
 quarters, he had made up his mind to repeat the folly of 
 the day before, and to try another direct attack, and he 
 actually telegraphed to General Halleck at 4 : 30 in the 
 morning : ' ' I have just returned from the field. Our troops 
 are all over the river. We hold the first ridge outside 
 the town and three miles below. We hope to carry the 
 crest to-day. Our -loss is heavy say 5000." The Com- 
 mander-in-chief had actually formed the desperate resolve 
 of leading, himself, a storming column of his own former 
 Ninth Corps. General Sumner, however, succeeded in dis- 
 suading him from the rash venture by telling him that not 
 one general officer approved of it. 
 
 In the meantime, confident of the correctness of my 
 judgment that there would be no more fighting, and in 
 pursuance of my regular instructions after every important 
 action to carry, whenever feasible, the account of it in 
 person to New York or Washington, I had made up my 
 mind to set out for the national capital after getting a few 
 hours' sleep. I was confirmed in this intention on being 
 informed that Burnside had interdicted all telegraphic com- 
 munications to the North regarding the battle, which opened 
 the possibility of achieving a great "beat" for the Tribune 
 by exclusive first news.
 
 CHAPTER XXHI 
 
 CARRYING THE NEWS TO WASHINGTON. 1862 
 
 I SOUGHT my quarters shortly before eleven, and ar- 
 ranged to be called so as to start for Acquia Creek at 
 3 A.M. I set out on horseback. Never before or since 
 have I had such a terrible ride. It was pitch dark indeed, 
 I could not make out anything beyond my horse's head. 
 There was no distinct road, but the army trains, in trying 
 to avoid mud and move on solid ground, had made tracks 
 of a seemingly infinite width, but all reduced to a miry 
 state. Hence I travelled most of the way through a sea 
 of mire from one to two feet deep. From time to time I 
 struck stretches of corduroy, but, as the logs were loose, 
 they made riding only more difficult and dangerous. Four 
 times my horse stumbled and fell, throwing me once, so 
 that I landed with a splash in a pool from which I emerged 
 covered with liquid earth. I could not tell in what direc- 
 tion I floundered on, and, not meeting any one, had to trust 
 to my animal's instinct. I was glad enough, therefore, 
 when day dawned and broken-down wagons and debris 
 of all sorts assured me that I had not gone astray. I had 
 calculated on making the distance in from three to four 
 hours, but I did not reach Acquia Creek before nine o 'clock. 
 I proceeded directly to the tent of the quartermaster 
 in charge of the depot of supplies and transportation. He 
 was the same official whom I had met on my way down. 
 He had heard the boom of the artillery the day before 
 and knew that a general action had taken place, but had 
 heard nothing of the result. Hence, he was glad and grate- 
 ful to get the scanty scraps of news I was inclined to give 
 in exchange for a plentiful breakfast which his cook pre- 
 25 385
 
 386 HENEY VILLARD [1862 
 
 pared for me. Naturally I cherished the hope that my 
 night ride would give me the start of my rivals, the cor- 
 respondents of other Northern papers, and was very much 
 elated on learning that none of them had arrived before me. 
 But imagine my dismay when the quartermaster, in reply 
 to my question as to when the first boat would start for 
 Washington, informed me that he had received orders be- 
 fore daylight from General Burnside not to allow any 
 officer or soldier, or any one else attached to the army, or 
 any civilian, and especially no press correspondents, to go 
 North without a special permit from his headquarters. 
 
 This was a knockdown blow, for it looked not only as 
 if I should be disappointed in my hope of getting ahead of 
 my competitors, but as if my coming to Acquia Creek 
 would prove a great blunder, leaving me separated from 
 the army and unable to get back to it for at least a day, 
 owing to my own extreme fatigue and the exhaustion of my 
 animal. To my further disgust, C. C. Coffin, the correspon- 
 dent of the Boston Journal writing under the signature of 
 "Carleton," whom I knew as one of the most intelligent, 
 energetic, and indefatigable reporters in the field, turned 
 up in the quartermaster's tent as I was finishing my break- 
 fast. To be sure, the interdict applied to him as well as to 
 me, and he was always very genial company; but one 
 never likes to discover that other people are as smart as 
 one's self. 
 
 My ambition as a correspondent was too strong, how- 
 ever, to make me submit meekly to the situation. On the 
 contrary, with body and spirit refreshed by a solid break- 
 fast, nothing was further from my thoughts, and I re- 
 solved to try my best to defy Burnside and circumvent 
 Coffin. But the resolution was easier than its execution, 
 and I wandered up and down the long dock the only dry 
 spot in sight for an hour or so, vainly taxing my brain 
 for an escape from the trap I was caught in. It naturally 
 occurred to me first to arrange to slip off secretly on one 
 of the four vessels discharging on the dock, but on inquiry
 
 1862] EVADING THE INTERDICT 387 
 
 it appeared that only one of them would go directly to 
 Washington after unloading, and that at least twenty-four 
 hours would elapse before the craft started on its return 
 trip. Suddenly, however, I conceived a possible solution 
 of the quandary. I saw two negroes row away from 
 the dock in a small boat and stop a hundred yards or so 
 from it to fish. The idea flashed upon me that I might 
 get them to row me out into the river, about half a mile 
 away, in order to intercept one of the numerous steam- 
 vessels passing up and down between the capital and Hamp- 
 ton Roads. But in executing this plan it was necessary to 
 prevent discovery and imitation by Coffin. Walking back 
 to the quartermaster's, I found to my joy that the Boston 
 Journal's correspondent had given way to his fatigue and 
 was fast asleep on a camp-bed. I lost no time in retracing 
 my steps and hailing the negroes. They promptly re- 
 sponded and rowed up to the dock. Not deeming it safe 
 to disclose my real purpose, in case I should be seen and 
 stopped by some one in authority, I offered them a dollar 
 each to let me fish with one of their rods. They accepted 
 with a pleased grin, and I let myself down into the boat. 
 Telling them that I wanted to fish further out, I made them 
 row out to the river proper so as to be beyond recognition 
 from the dock. Then I let them know that I wanted to be 
 put aboard the first steamer from below, and, pulling out 
 two five-dollar greenbacks, told them that they should have 
 them if they did this for me. The size of the reward was 
 evidently overwhelming, and they agreed promptly to my 
 proposal. 
 
 We slowly rowed down the river, and in less than an hour 
 a steam-vessel came in sight that proved to be a freight- 
 propeller under Government charter. Getting as near as 
 practicable, I hailed a person standing on the upper deck, 
 who proved to be the captain. Shouting to him that I 
 wished to be taken aboard, he asked whether I had a trans- 
 portation order, as he was forbidden to carry passengers 
 without one. As he slowed down, I had got hold of a rope
 
 388 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 hanging from the side of the propeller, and, fearing that 
 the captain would refuse to take me, I pulled the boat up 
 to an opening in the guard railing on the lower deck, 
 jumped aboard, tossed the greenbacks to the oarsmen, and 
 told them to make off as fast as possible, which they did 
 with a vengeance. The captain was at first disposed to be 
 wrathy at my summary proceeding, but became mollified 
 on being shown my general army pass, and on my assurance 
 that I commanded enough influence to protect him in case 
 my performance should get him into trouble. Being now 
 certain of having the start of all my rivals, I felt very 
 jubilant. The only drawback was that the propeller was 
 very slow, making only about eight or nine miles against 
 the stream, so that I could not expect to reach Washing- 
 ton before 7 or 8 P.M. This gave me ample time, how- 
 ever, to clean up, which my night ride had rendered very 
 necessary, to sleep^for a couple of hours, and, most impor- 
 tant of all, to get an account of the battle ready for instant 
 transmission by mail or telegraph. I had it finished at 
 seven, but we reached the dock on the Eastern Branch only 
 at a quarter-past eight. Before leaving the boat, I thanked 
 the captain warmly for his kindness, and begged him to 
 accept a fifty-dollar bill in recognition of the great service 
 he had rendered me. He was much surprised, and at first 
 declined the present, but yielded when I urged him to ac- 
 cept it for his wife and children. 
 
 I made all speed to the Tribune office, where I was told 
 there would be no use in trying to send my report by tele- 
 graph, as the Government censor at the main telegraph 
 office had been ordered by the Secretary of War not to 
 allow any news from Fredericksburg to be transmitted 
 without previous submission to and special approval by 
 him. But there was time to send it by special messenger 
 on the night train, which was done. It may as well be 
 mentioned here that my account met the same fate as that 
 of the first battle of Bull Run. I had stated in it as strongly 
 as possible that the Army of the Potomac had suffered
 
 1862] SENATOR WILSON INFORMED 389 
 
 another great, general defeat; that an inexcusable, mur- 
 derous blunder had been made in attempting to overcome 
 the enemy by direct attack; and that the Union cause was 
 threatened by the greatest disaster yet suffered, in conse- 
 quence of the perilous situation in which the defeat left the 
 army. The editor was afraid to let the Tribune solely 
 assume the whole responsibility for what would no doubt 
 prove a great shock to the loyal public, lest I might be 
 mistaken in my opinion, and, accordingly, the report was 
 very much modified, but was printed as an extra issue the 
 following morning. 
 
 My duty being thus fully discharged, I went to Willard's 
 Hotel for my supper. At the entrance I met Senator Henry 
 Wilson of Massachusetts, known to the local correspondents 
 as the most persistent news-hunter in Washington. He 
 knew I had joined the Army of the Potomac, and at once 
 surmised that I was from the front, and greeted me with 
 the questions: "Have you come from the army? What 
 is the news? Have we won the fight? " I answered: 
 "Senator, you know whatever news I have belongs to my 
 paper, but, for the sake of the cause, I will tell you in 
 strict confidence that Burnside is defeated, and in such a 
 bad plight that I think you can render no greater service 
 to the country than to go at once to the White House and 
 tell the President, if he does not know what has happened 
 on the Rappahannock, to make an immediate demand for 
 the truth. You can state further to him that, as I believe 
 he knows me to be a truthful man, I do not hesitate to 
 say to him, through you, that, in my deliberate judgment, 
 he ought not to wait for information, but instantly order 
 the army back to the north bank." Afer a few more 
 words, the Senator started for the Presidential mansion. 
 After supper I went back to the Tribune office, but had 
 hardly entered it when the Senator reappeared, and, taking 
 me aside, told me that he had seen the President, who 
 desired me to come with him to the White House at once. 
 Of course I went, although I was still in my campaign
 
 390 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 clothes and hardly presentable. It was nearly ten o'clock. 
 The Senator informed me on the way that he had not given 
 my message to the President. 
 
 We found Mr. Lincoln in the old reception-room on the 
 second floor, opposite the landing. He greeted me with 
 a hearty hand-shake, saying, "I am much obliged to 
 you for coming, for we are very anxious and have heard 
 very little." He then asked me to give him, as far as 
 my personal knowledge permitted, a general outline of what 
 had happened, which I did as fully as I could in a few 
 minutes. He followed up my account with one question 
 after another for over half an hour. He inquired regard- 
 ing the defences of the rebels on our right front, their 
 command of the town and river, the physical and moral 
 condition of our troops before and after the fight, the 
 chances of success of another attack from either of our 
 wings, the extent of our losses, and the feeling among the 
 general officers. He was very careful not to ask anything 
 so as to imply criticism of anybody, although I ventured 
 to mingle a good deal of censure with my statements of 
 facts. But his questions and the expression of his face 
 showed that he believed I was aiming to tell the truth, and 
 that he felt growing anxiety. When he ended the inter- 
 view b"y repeating his thanks, I made bold to say as 
 earnestly as I could: "Mr. President, it is, of course, not 
 for me to offer advice to you, but I hope my sincere 
 loyalty may be accepted as my excuse for taking the 
 liberty of telling you what is not only my conviction but 
 that of every general officer I saw during and after the 
 fighting, that success is impossible, and that the worst 
 disaster yet suffered by our forces will befall the Army 
 of the Potomac if the attack is renewed, and unless the 
 army is withdrawn at once to the north side. Pardon me, 
 Mr. President, but I cannot help telling you further that 
 you cannot render the country a greater service than by 
 ordering General Burnside to withdraw from the south 
 bank forthwith, if he has not already done so."
 
 1862] THE PRESIDENT INFORMED 391 
 
 The President took no offence, but, with a melancholy 
 smile, remarked, "I hope it is not so bad as all that," 
 whereupon we took our leave. The Senator was fully im- 
 pressed with the danger of the situation and gratified that 
 I had spoken so frankly. I felt thankful myself that I 
 had been thus permitted to make an effort in the highest 
 quarter for the salvation of the army, and I walked away 
 with a sense of having discharged a patriotic duty. I have 
 always been proud of my action, though it produced no ef- 
 fect. Burnside was, indeed, allowed to dispose of the fate of 
 the army without interference from Washington; but, 
 fortunately, the truth that there was safety only in with- 
 drawal came to him in the end, after two days of flounder- 
 ing and vacillation, and the Army of the Potomac returned 
 unmolested to the north bank during the night of the 
 15th-16th. 
 
 With the official history of the memorable Saturday, from 
 both Union and Confederate sources, before me, I contend 
 unhesitatingly that the escape of the Army of the Potomac 
 from the Fredericksburg trap must be ascribed to the ignor- 
 ance of the rebel Commander-in-chief of the extent of our 
 losses and of the confusion and demoralization of our right. 
 His despatches, during and immediately after the action, 
 to the Richmond Secretary of War prove that he not only 
 did not know the physical and moral disability wrought 
 among our forces, but believed that there had been only 
 a preliminary trial of arms, and that the battle would 
 be renewed at daylight the next morning. Further proof 
 is furnished by this quotation from his report : ' ' The attack 
 on the 13th had been so easily repulsed, and by so small 
 a part of our army, that it was not supposed the enemy 
 would limit his efforts to an attempt which, in view of 
 the magnitude of his preparations, seemed to be compara- 
 tively insignificant But we were necessarily ig- 
 norant of the extent to which he had suffered, and only 
 became aware of it when, on the morning of the 16th, it 
 was discovered that he had availed himself of the dark-
 
 392 HENRY VILLARD [1862 
 
 ness of night and the prevalence of a violent storm of 
 wind and rain to recross the river." To assume that, with 
 a knowledge of our condition, Lee would not have launched 
 his columns, under the protecting fire of his artillery, down 
 upon our broken, shattered, cowed, huddled-up right, would 
 be simply to deny, as I have already said, his indisputable 
 mastery of the art of war. It is true that the line of 
 the right on the first crest, from which our attacks were 
 started, was held during the night following the battle and 
 during the next day by the organizations that last came 
 into the fight. But, owing to casualties and depletion 
 through skulking, they numbered barely one-third of their 
 strength before the battle, and hence could have offered 
 but a weak resistance. 
 
 The discredit to the Federal arms on account of the 
 battle of Fredericksburg is not diminished by the relative 
 strength of the two armies. The Army of Northern Vir- 
 ginia was composed of the First Army Corps under General 
 James Longstreet and the Second under General Thomas 
 J. Jackson ; the former opposed to our right and the latter 
 to our left. The First Corps consisted of five divisions 
 with a total of sixteen brigades, varying from two to five 
 regiments. The Second Corps was made up of four divi- 
 sions with nineteen brigades of from two to seven regi- 
 ments. The two corps thus represented an aggregate of 
 nine divisions with thirty-five brigades. There was a 
 cavalry force also, but it played as little part in the battle 
 as our own. There appear to have been fifty-one batteries 
 attached to the rebel army. The Army of the Potomac 
 consisted, as set forth, of six army corps of eighteen divi- 
 sions and fifty-six brigades, with seventy batteries of from 
 four to six guns each. A comparison of the respective 
 organizations shows that our brigades averaged more regi- 
 ments than those of the enemy. The entire effective force 
 of Lee, according to rebel authority, was, indeed, under 
 fifty thousand, while Burnside's before the battle was more 
 than double that number. Nor is this all. Lee, in his
 
 1862] THE COST OF BURNSIDE 393 
 
 congratulatory order to his army, says that it took less than 
 twenty thousand of his men to repel our attacks both on the 
 right and on the left. This is perfectly credible, consider- 
 ing that our attacks were made by divisions and brigades 
 only, and is borne out by his official list of casualties show- 
 ing the organizations actually engaged. But it is true, also, 
 as set forth in my narrative, that five divisions on our left 
 and one on our right did not take part in the action. 
 
 We lost 124 officers and 1160 men killed, 654 officers and 
 8946 men wounded, and 20 officers and 1749 men missing 
 or captured (of which, as the rebels claimed only 900 
 prisoners, one-half were doubtless killed), making a total 
 loss of 12,653. The proportion of officers among the killed 
 and wounded was extraordinary and not equalled in any 
 other battle of the Civil War. The rebel loss is reported 
 only under the general head of killed and wounded, at 458 
 and 3743 respectively, or a total of 4201. The prisoners we 
 took brought it up to about 5000, or forty per cent, of our 
 loss. Jackson's corps lost three-fifths of the total, namely, 
 328 killed and 2354 wounded, and more than half of the 
 prisoners taken by us. Our divisions which attacked him 
 lost, together, 4284. Deducting Jackson's and Franklin's 
 losses from the totals, the horrible fact appears that our 
 loss on the right amounted to more than four times that 
 of the enemy, which brings out in gory relief the useless 
 butchery of our soldiers. 
 
 With this I gladly close the sickening story of the ap- 
 palling disaster for which Ambrose E. Burnside will, to the 
 end of time, stand charged with the responsibility. 
 
 END OF VOLUME ONE.
 
 'She fiiUcrsibf 
 
 Eltctrotyfcd and printed by ff. O. Houghton & C*. 
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