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ANOTHER GREAT BATTLE—TWO DAYS OF AWFUL FIGHTING AT

PITTSKILL LANDING—HARD-WON VICTORY-UNCLE DANIEL'S SONS BEAR

THEMSELVES GALLANTLY.

“But whether on the scaffold high, Or in the battle's van,

The fittest place where man can die Is where he dies for man.”

—Barry.

“During the suspense great preparations were being made for the various campaigns by the several ar-armies of the Union, which caused much excitement throughout the country. The many prisoners captured at the fall of Dolinsburg had been sent to different camps in the North. The secession sympathizers were vieing with each other as to who should visit them the oftenest and show them the greatest consideration. The whisperings of releasing them and organizing for 'a fire in the rear,' as the saying went, were loud and plentiful I traveled to Indianapolis and Chicago to see if I could learn anything of a definite character on these points, and at both places heard mutterings and threats that were calculated to produce alarm and also to make any loyal man feel like beginning a war at home. Everything that was being done by the authorities was denounced as arbitrary and despotic—their acts as unconstitutional. In fact, no satisfactory act had been performed by the Administration that was calculated to assist in putting down the rebellion (according to their way of thinking). When I returned home I found a letter from Peter, who had been promoted to a Majority in his regiment. The Lieutenant-Colonel (Rice), as I before stated, had been made Colonel, Major Pierce Lieutenant-Colonel, and Capt. Lyon (Peter) Major. They had not as yet learned of the discovery of Col. Anderson. I wrote to Peter, giving him in full the details in reference to the Colonel, but told him not to reveal the facts to a soul until it should be reported officially. In his letter, however, he informed me of the massing of the rebel troops at Corin Junction, and the like process going on at the High Banks, on the Little Combination River, now called Pittskill Landing, and that he looked for hot work as soon as the Army of the Center, under Buda, could make a junction with Gen. Silent. When I read Peter's letter all the family were anxious about his fate, should there be another battle fought. Old Ham was present and seemed to be much interested in what I was saying. He had been entertaining the three children with his simple stories about the 'Sesh,' as he and Aunt Martha called the rebels. He spoke up, saying:

“'Massa Daniel, I tells you da's no danger, sah. I had a dream 'bout dat. Massa Peter am all right, sah; I tells you he is. I neber dreams 'bout anything but what comes out good.'

“My wife asked Ham if he could interpret dreams. 'No, missis; I not know 'bout dreams 'cept my own. I knows dat Massa Peter all right.'

“There was no way getting the cunning old darkey to tell his dream. My wife said to him:

“'I am troubled about a dream that I had at the commencement of the war. It distresses me still.'

“She then related her dream, and he broke out into a laugh, saying:

“'Yes, but you see, massa got all he hands, all he fingers; dey all dar—none done gone. Dat dream all good, kase, you see, he fingers all right. O, dat's nuffin. De bug he be Sesh; skare you, dat's all; bite de chilien little spec, dat's all.'

“We all laughed at the curious speech of old Ham, and yet he sat down and commenced counting his fingers, and said: “'How many chilien yo' got, misses?'

“'Seven.'

“'Ham became silent, and nothing more could be got from him on the subject of the dream. He never spoke of the matter again to any of us, except to Peter. I found after all was over that he and Peter had the same interpretation—strange, yet so true.”

“Uncle Daniel, what was the interpretation, may I inquire the second time?” said Dr. Adams.

“It was very strange; but the interpretation is disclosed by the casualties of war, and as we proceed you will recognize it. But to my story: The rebel and Union forces were now confronting each other, and each was constantly on the lookout for the movements of the other. About midway between the camps of the two armies they were almost constantly having skirmishes, sometimes with cavalry, and sometimes with infantry. The successes were about equal. Peter related the story of an old colored man, I presume something after the style of old Ham, meeting him while he was making a reconnaissance with his regiment. The old darkey was tall and very black, and was walking in great haste when Peter called to him:

“'Uncle, where are you going?'

“'Ise gwine to de ribber, sah. Ise ti'd ob de wa', Ise been cookin', sah, for de 'Sesh.' He say he gwine to whip dem Yankees on de ribber—dat dey am gwine to come right on and drive dem in de ribber and drown dem like cats; dat's what he say, sho'. I heah him wid dese old ears, I did.'

“'When did he say he was coming?'

“'Well, massa, he say he comin' right off, sah; he say he kill 'em an' drown 'em all afore de res' ob de Yankees come for help dem; dat's what he say.'

“'Who was it said this?'

“'Why, sah, it wah de big Gen'l—de one what boss all de res'; he name wah Massa Sydenton Jackson. He say he kill all ob you stone dead—he not leab one ob em.'

“'If he is going to kill all of us, you don't want to go to our camp and get killed, do you?'

“'No, sah; I doesn't spec' to git killed; I 'bout 'cluded dat I wait till de shootin' git goin' pretty libely, den I jes' skip de ribber and neber stop 'til I be done gone whar dey done got no wa'.'

“'How many soldiers have they in Gen. Jackson's army?'

“'Well, I dunno, but I 'spec' dar am somewhar near a million ob dem, sah. Dey's got de woods full ob hoss sogers, an' all de fiel's full ob 'em what walks. Den dey got big guns wid hosses. Oh, Laudy, massa, I dunno, but dey's heaps ob dem.'

“'What were they doing when you came away?”

“'Dey was campin' 'bout ten miles, I 'spose. I walk mighty fas', and I is monstrous tired. When dey start dis mornin' I get outside and go in de woods and keep whar I see dem all de way. When dey stop I keep on. Dey be here in de mornin', sho'. I knows dey will, massa.'

“This being about all Peter could ascertain, he thought perhaps it would be as safe back towards the main army, so he returned, bringing old 'Dick' with him, that being his name. When Peter reported with Dick at headquarters the General cross-questioned the old man in a manner that would have done credit to a prosecuting attorney, and said to Peter:

“'Major, I guess the enemy intend to try our strength very soon.'

“He then said to Dick:

“'You can go around behind my quarters. You will find some colored people there, with whom you will remain until after we have this fight. You can then go where you please.'

“'Bress de Laud, Massa Genl, you gwine to make me stay heah and get shotted?”

“'Well, I don't know whether you will get shot or not but you will stay as I direct.'

“'Afore God, Massa Gen'l, you see dese heah 'backer sticks, (meaning his legs), 'dey go, dey go if dey shoot; I can't hole 'em. I tried dem one time, an' I tell you dey won't stay. You can't hole 'em, no, sah; dey git ebery time—when you 'spec dem be stayin' dey's gwine.'

“The General laughed at his peculiar expressions and sent him away. The position of the Union forces was an exceedingly good one for defensive operations. The country all around was covered with heavy timber and very thick underbrush, save a small opening or field on the right center and to the rear of our right flank. The ground was very uneven, full of streams, gulches, hills and hollows. The line of the Union troops stretched from Hawk Run to Bull Gulch and Buck Lick Junction, the right resting on Hawk Run and the left at or near the Junction, the center in heavy timber quite a distance farther south than either flank. The right of the line was commanded by Gen. Sherwood, the left by Gen. Prince; two divisions were in reserve, commanded by Gen. Waterberry. The Army of the Center, under Gen. Buda, was within communicating distance, but advancing very slowly, causing some fear that they would not get to the field prior to the attack being made by the enemy, who was in great force ready to be hurled against our comparatively small army at any moment.

“The suspense must have been terrible for the time, but at last it was over, for on the morning of the third day after Dick made his revelation about the enemy's movements, our forces having become a little careless on their front, the enemy were upon them without much warning. Just as Gen. Sherwood was about to take his breakfast skirmishing commenced not more than a mile from his camp, and nearer and nearer it seemed to approach our lines. The 'long roll' was sounded and 'to arms' was the cry all along the lines. The roads passing through the camp were leading in almost every direction, affording the enemy ample opportunity for unfolding their line all along our front by a very rapid movement, of which they took advantage, and in rapid succession threw their divisions in line of battle and moved with quick motion to the assault which was made simultaneously along our front. From Peter's description it must have come like a thunderbolt. They struck Sherwood's command on the center and right flank and drove him from his first position back on the reserves and a part of his command entirely from the field. So thoroughly were they demoralized that they could not find time to return to their places during that day. Sherwood tried to rally them, but could not; so he joined his remnant to the first command he found, and continued resistance to the impetuous assaults of the Confederates.

“The battle was now raging all along the line; our troops were in good condition, and the ones that had won the victory at Dolinsburg were in no wise discouraged. They came into action like veterans and stood the first shock of the battle without the least movement to the rear or panic. Our lines were again adjusted on the right, and one continuous rattle of musketry from one end of the line to the other could be heard. There was no chance for the operating of cavalry on either side. Artillery was run up to the front by both armies. How the different arms rattled and thundered. Batteries to the front, right and left rolled amid confusion and death. Closer still the armies came until their eyes were seen and aim taken as if in target practice. To the rear and front, as the armies gained or lost a little of their ground, lay the dead and the wounded. The shrieks and groans of the wounded and dying were unheeded; the crushing of bones might also be heard as the artillery rushed from one part of the lines to another. In this way the contest continued for the greater part of the forenoon. At last our center was penetrated and our right was forced back again with the center for the distance of perhaps a half mile. Our left, having a better position, under Gen. Prince, held their ground, and, turning their fire partially on the advancing column that was forcing our right, checked them somewhat in their rapid advance. At this critical moment our reserves came up in good style and entered the conflict. The enemy were now steadily driven back to their original position.

“Over the field the Union and rebel soldiers lay side by side, dead and wounded alike. They were seen helping one another, their anger and fury soon subsiding when they found themselves helpless by the side of each other, and, perhaps, often asking 'Why are we thus butchering one another?'

“This bloody battle raged with a deadly fury unparalleled on the continent up to that time. Louder and louder roared the artillery and more steadily and sharply rattled the musketry. The smoke was rising in great clouds from the field of carnage. Gen. Silent was very impatient on account of the non-arrival of Gen. Buda, as well as Gen. Wilkins, whose division was some six miles away to the rear, and was expected to come rapidly forward and strike west of Hawk Run, on the left flank of the enemy; but no Buda and no Wilkins came. The battle was then raging with great slaughter on both sides. The entire Union force was now engaged, and the rebel commander was bringing his reserves forward and re-enforcing his lines. He could be seen re-organizing his forces and putting his reserves in line. Gen. Jackson and his staff were seen riding along giving directions. He had on his staff one Gen. Harrington, who seemed to be very active in moving about. Soon another assault was made on our lines. The fresh troops seemed to inspire them with new zeal, and on they came, steadily and firmly, with a constant and heavy fire pouring into our lines. The assault was resisted for some time. It seems that during this assault, their Commander-in-Chief, Gen. Sydenton Jackson, was shot through the breast, falling from his horse dead. At the fall of Jackson, Gen. Harrington seemed to become crazed and rushed madly on, directing that every Yankee be killed. 'Bayonet them!' 'Kill them like cats!' 'Let none escape,' he cried. So on they came like a line of mad animals, sending forth such unearthly yells as to induce the belief that all the fiends of the infernal regions had been turned loose at once and led on by old Beelzebub himself. On, on they came. Our line reeled and staggered under the assault. A fresh column came up under Gen. Bolenbroke, and advanced rapidly against our right flank, and bore down so heavily that our line on the right and centre again gave way. In falling back, Gen. Waterberry, a gallant officer who had brought up our reserves on our first repulse, was killed while trying to rally his men.

“His death seemed to create a panic, and Gen. Sherwood was unable to hold the men to their line. He would form and reform them, leading them himself; but when he would look for the command he was trying to bring to the front, he would find them going to the rear, making very good time.

“Peter's command was in this part of the line. He could hear this man Harrington, as the rebels came rushing on, crying out: 'No quarter!' 'Kill every Yankee!' 'Let none escape!' 'Rid the country of the last one!' 'Take no prisoners!' The panic continued on our right, and at least one-half of this part of Sherwood's command broke, and was utterly disorganized, hiding behind trees, in hollows and ravines, to cover themselves from the enemy. In great numbers they sought roads leading to the rear, and followed them without knowing to what point they might lead. In this demoralized condition of one portion of our army, despair seemed to set in. Gen. Silent sat on his horse looking sadly at this condition of things. He spoke not a word. Riding up to Sherwood, who was greatly excited, he said:

“'General, can you not send word to Prince to fall back slowly? I see the enemy will soon be on his flank.'

“As the General rode away he said: 'I cannot understand the delay of Buda and Wilkins.'

“He sent orderlies immediately to hurry them up, giving imperative orders to them 'to move to the field of battle as rapidly as possible.' In the meantime Gen. Hudson had gone to the support of Prince; our forces on the right having steadily fallen back. It was too late, however, to save him. The enemy had surrounded him before Hudson could form on his right, and he was compelled to surrender with a portion of his command, the rest having fallen back and thereby saved themselves. Hudson joined on the remainder of Prince's command and made resistance to the further advance of the enemy. Our line, being again intact, fell back behind a ravine that crossed the battlefield from northwest to southeast—from Moccasin Run to the river. The enemy by this time were in possession of the camps of the Union forces, and partially giving themselves up to plunder, the battle gradually slackened until darkness closed in on the contending armies The enemy occupied our camps during the night, intending the next morning to capture what was left of our army. During the first part of the night they kept up a fearful noise, evincing their joy over what they thought a great victory. Gen. Silent, however, was engaged in arranging his forces for an attack at daylight, being satisfied that he could surprise the enemy and defeat him, as he would not expect our forces to fight, and, therefore, take the noise of preparation for a retreat. The column under Gen. Wilkins came up early that night and was posted on the right of our army, with its right on Hawks Run.

“Gen. Buda also arrived during the night and was given position on the left, his left resting on the river. The center, held by Sherwood, was re-enforced by Hudson and that portion of Prince's command not captured. The artillery was put in battery in the center and on the right center, and orders given for the men to replenish their boxes with ammunition, to sleep on their arms, and at 4 o'clock in the morning to make a simultaneous attack all along the line with infantry and artillery, moving the artillery rapidly to the front. This being understood, all were quiet. The enemy were so confident of having our army at their mercy that they lighted fires and made night hideous with their howls. During the night the leaves and grass were set on fire by some unknown means and burned over the battlefield, causing great consternation, as many of the wounded were yet lying where they fell. Their shrieks and appeals for help would have made the tears come to the eyes of the most heartless. An allwise Providence, however, heard their prayers and appeals for help, and the windows of heaven were thrown open and the flood poured forth and subdued the flames, saving many a poor fellow from dreadful torture and death. The storm continued nearly all night swelling the little streams that ran through the battlefield, causing the roads to become almost impassable. The stragglers were collected and returned to their commands.

“At 4 o'clock the crack of musketry was heard, and soon after the artillery from our lines opened and we were upon the rebels. They were taken by surprise and thrown into confusion. The hurrying of officers from one part of the field to another was distinctly heard by our men and greatly encouraged our forces. On they moved, driving the enemy pell-mell from our former camp. It was impossible, under our galling fire, for the enemy to form in any compact line. They fell back as our troops advanced. We struck them in front, on the flank, and, as they sometimes turned in their retreat, in the rear. The slaughter for a time was terrible and sickening. They were at last driven into the woods where they had formed the day before. Here a lull came in the contest, and they took advantage of it to form their line again, believing that our advantage could only be temporary, having no knowledge of the number of our re-enforcements. When they were in a condition to do so they advanced and took the aggressive. On they came. Our line stood as immovable as a rock, received the shock of their first assault, and then poured the missiles of death into their ranks as if they were being rained down from the heavens. For a time the lines both advanced slowly and dealt death into each other. The commands from each army could be distinctly heard by the other. Harrington on the rebel side was heard to say:

“'Charge the Lincoln hell-hounds! Give the cowardly dogs the bayonet!'

“This gave our troops that heard it a contempt for the man, and a determination to receive the charge in a soldierly manner. They stood silent until the enemy was within close musket range, and at the order—the batteries having come up—everything opened and poured volley after volley into the advancing columns, which swayed and halted; no power could press them forward. Our forces seeing this, advanced steadily, firing as they moved. At last the rebel line gave way and fled to the woods on their left, taking shelter among the trees. The ground between the lines was now literally covered with the killed and wounded. On our extreme left the battle was still raging, and seemed to be going to our rear. Gen. Silent rode away to this part of the field. Finding that our forces had fallen back nearly to the junction of Bull Gulch and Buck Lick Run, he ordered Hudson to move rapidly and strike the enemy in flank where the line had been broken by the falling back of their left and center. This order was executed with much alacrity and was a great success. Hudson struck the detached portion of the enemy's army in flank and rear, and doubled them up (over the very ground from which our forces had fallen back the day before), capturing many prisoners and several pieces of artillery. Here he met a young officer whom he had noticed moving rapidly to the front and assaulting the enemy with his command at any and every point where he could hit him.

“Hudson rode up to him and inquired his name.

“'My name, sir, is Stephen Lyon. I belong to an Ohio regiment. I joined the Army of the Center only a short time since, and this is my first battle. I have lost many men; my Colonel and Lieutenant-Colonel were both killed, and I am the Major and now in command of the regiment.'

“This was my fifth son in line of birth, and sixth in the service. I am digressing, however. Their conversation was here cut short, as Gen. Buda had ordered an advance along his line, which was the left wing of the army. The advance was duly made. The rebels, however, in the meantime had been re-enforced on this part of their line. The contest, therefore, became a very stubborn one on both sides. The advance of Buda was soon checked, and the fighting became desperate. Both armies to our right seemed to have partially ceased their advance, seemingly to understand how the event was being decided on this part of the line. The enemy was driven slowly to the rear for some distance. A halt then came and a rally on the part of the rebels. They organized into column of regiments and made a desperate attempt to break the center of our left. Buda massed his artillery against them, keeping it well supported, and mowed them down with shell and canister until they lay in piles on the ground. They advanced to the assault three times with a heroism and desperation seldom witnessed in any ancient or modern battle, but each time back were their shattered columns sent in utter confusion. Thus the battle continued until late in the afternoon, when both parties reorganized for a last and desperate struggle. The lines of the enemy showed all along the skirts of timber, leaving the open space to our right and center, and extending to Buck Lick Run. Both seemed eager to make the attack, but our forces were first in motion, and with a quick-step movement they advanced against the enemy. The firing opened all along the line. First one and then the other line staggered and swayed to and fro. The forces on both sides seemed determined to win or die on their ground. At last Wilkins crossed Hawks Run and struck the enemy in his flank, causing consternation to seize him, and he gradually gave way, his left flank doubling back on the main line nearer the center. At this moment Gen. Silent ordered an advance with infantry and artillery simultaneously. This was executed in good order, the firing again became general. The roar of artillery now was almost deafening. The yell of the enemy was heard in every direction as though assaulting, but they could no longer stand against our determined forces. Steadily on the advance continued; the enemy stood, delivering his fire with deadly results, until our army approached to the point where one or the other must give way. The rebels, seeing that our force was coming with a steady step and determination unmoved by their fire, broke in different parts of their line, and finally the moment arrived when they could no longer stand our deadly aim, and their whole line gave way. They retreated through the woods and on different roads in great disorder; our forces followed up their lines of retreat and kept a constant fire upon them until night intervened, which protected them from any further disaster. This closed one of the bloody battles of the war. That night our army again slept upon their arms. Some supplies were brought to them during the night, which stayed their hunger. The next morning the enemy was nowhere to be seen or heard; he had made his retreat in the night, leaving many wagons, ambulances and guns. The roads being made almost impassable by the rain of the night before, their dead and wounded were left in our hands, save those whom they had removed to the rear the night of the first day's contest, when they held the ground. The battlefield presented a ghastly and sickening sight—the dead, the dying, the wounded; the hospital in the rear, near the river; the parties burying the dead, finding Union men and rebels piled up in heaps together; the long trenches being prepared; the soldiers being wrapped in their blankets and buried without any knowledge of who they were, or to what command they belonged; the words of the dying to be taken back to their friends; the messages to fond wives and blessed children; the moans and shrieks of the wounded as they were carried on stretchers from where they had lain and suffered, some of them, for two days and nights.

“These things, when first recited to me by my son Peter, filled me with deep sorrow and pain. O, my friends, the suffering of our poor men for their country was great-it was heartrending to hear of it. When the sick, wounded and dead had been cared for, of course the army could not move again very soon—it must have rest and reorganization. So the camp for the present was established a little in advance of the battle-ground. Many were furloughed for a short time and returned home. My son Peter came home on a leave, having been wounded late in the evening of the second day. His wound being in his foot, he was unfitted for duty for some time. His Lieutenant-Colonel having been killed that day, he was promoted to the vacancy.

“While Peter was kept in the house (where he was confined by his wound), he constantly entertained us by his recitals of all of these incidents and movements that I have given to you in my poor way. It is a matter of great interest to me to follow the history of men on both sides, and see what their good or bad fortune may have been since. Now, on our side in this great battle, Gen. Waterberry, one of our leading generals, was killed on the first day. Gen. Hudson went through the war creditably and died away from home in some of the South American states. Gen. Buda soon left the army under a cloud, and I do not know what became of him. I think, however, that he is dead. Wilkins went through the war with some credit to himself, but was killed in Mexico afterwards in some of their periodical revolutions.”

“Uncle Daniel, do you know the history of the rebel generals since the war, who commanded in this battle of which you have been speaking?” asked Dr. Adams.

“Oh, yes! You know Sydenton Jackson was killed on the first day. Bolenbroke was in the rebel army up to its surrender, but died soon after from dissipation, as I have been informed.”

“I am curious to know what became of Dick, the darky,” he said.

Uncle Daniel smiled and said: “Dick, poor fellow, has not been seen since his 'backer sticks' ran off with him, just as he said they would.”

“What became of Harrington, who wanted every d—— Yankee killed like cats—bayoneted—without any quarter being shown, etc.?”

“He went to Mexico after the war closed; could not live under 'Yankee' rule. He there tried to assist in establishing an empire. Was regarded by some of the Imperialists as suited to become a Duke. When the Empire fell, and no further hope of a dukedom arose before his flattered vanity, he came back, and is now one of the leading governmental reformers and placed in official position by his party (how strange to say 'reformers'. They were once known by a different name). But things are changing with the seasons now.

“You see, this great battle of Pittskill Landing, following so soon after the battle of Dolinsburg, had marked influence on the country. The people began to see that the question of courage did not depend so much upon where a man was born as it did on the amount of it he had when he was born, and the principle for which he was contending, as well as drill and discipline in his duty. The people in the North were beginning to learn that every hill in the South was not mined and ready to be exploded, blowing up everything that approached. After becoming cool they would ask themselves as to where the powder could have been procured, etc.”

“Yes,” said Dr. Adams, “I remember well when it was reported, and believed by many, that all the hills in Virginia, near Washington, were mined, and that masked batteries were behind every bush.”

“Yes, I know many would speak of those things to prove that the rebellion could not be conquered, or any headway made against it. Just as though a masked battery was any more dangerous than a battery uncovered; and without reflecting as to the quantity of guns that would have been required, and the number of men supporting the batteries at every place where they were by the vivid imagination of many whose stories were invented for the purpose of frightening the ignorant.”

“The truth is that it was and is to me one of the great wonders how we ever succeeded in putting down the rebellion, with nearly the entire South in arms, while there were but few that were not in arms who did not sympathize fully with those who were; and in the North a strong political party, as an organization, prayed and worked for the success of secession and rebellion. The only ones of the party who did not sympathize with the rebellion were a few old men who knew the benefits of a government, those who entered the Union army, those who had friends in the service, and those who were taught to revere the Union in early youth. The remainder of that party who desired our success were but few and far between. They are now the ones, however, who saved the Government, preserved the Constitution, the flag, and our honor, and are going to reform all abuses and make everybody prosperous and happy. The Colonel here, who lost an arm for his country, is laid aside as 'worthless crockery'; and as for myself, who gave seven sons to the service of my country, I am of no use whatever. Of course, I am very old, but I supposed that it would be considered an honor to me to have made so great a sacrifice. So I went out to one of the Reformers' meetings last Fall, and instead of being invited on the stand and referred to as an old man who had given up his whole family for his country's cause, I was permitted to sit on the ground and hear an old Secessionist and rebel sympathizer extolled to the skies, with great applause following, and one of our best and most gallant soldiers ridiculed and abused as if he had been a pirate during the war. So it is and so it goes. I am poor. So are all who spent their time in aiding our country. The mistake we made was not to have staid at home and made fortunes, and let these men, who “feathered their nests” during the war, have gone and served in the army and showed their love of country. We would now have been the patriots and the ones to be intrusted with public affairs.

“But why should I care? I think I should not. But it is impossible for me to lay aside my feelings on the subject of my country's welfare. I will go down to my grave with the feeling that those who so loved their country that they risked their lives for it are the safer ones to trust with its control. I cannot see how those who did not wish the success of our country and those who exerted every nerve to destroy it can be the best persons in whose hands to place our vast interests.

“I may be wrong about this, however, and, therefore, will return to my story, believing that the Lord doeth all things well.

“Peter and our family at home were sitting in the parlor. Jennie was wrapping Peter's foot in cloths and bandages, when the conversation turned on Col. David and Col. Anderson. Jennie had a letter from David but a day or so before, which gave us the news of the good health of himself and James, the doctor. It also informed her that Henry had been assigned to duty in the same command with himself, which made it very pleasant for them. My wife, Aunt Sarah, had received a letter from Mary Anderson a day or so before which brought the gratifying intelligence that the Colonel was improving rapidly and would be able soon to return to Allentown and once more enjoy for a time the quiet of our home. He was informed that he must not return to take the field again for some months. While I was at home, trying to arrange the difficulty about the colonelcy of his regiment, inasmuch as his discovery and return to Dolinsburg had not been officially announced, I wrote to the President the situation, telling him the whole story and calling his attention to the reports of the battles in which the Colonel had participated, and asking that he give him recognition by promotion to a Brigadier-Generalship. With this request the President had kindly complied, and I had his commission in my possession, which fact I kept a profound secret. Just then Peter said to me:

“'What can be done to arrange matters in Col. Tom's regiment? There is Col. Rice, who, when Tom takes command or when the facts are ascertained, will be reduced in his command as Lieutenant-Colonel, and I will go back as Major. This I do not care for, but Col. Rice is a proud man, and will dislike this, I fear.

“'Then he will show himself an unworthy officer. He should be glad that his Colonel is alive and yield up the command gracefully.'

“'There is no other way for him to do,' said Peter; 'that is true.'

“Old Ham was sitting off to one side with little Mary Anderson on his lap. The child had been listening to what was said about her father. She spoke to Uncle Ham, as she, with the rest of the family, had learned to call him, and asked:

“'When is papa coming home? Is he well? Is mamma well? How will they get home?' and many other questions.

“Ham said, 'I doesn't know. Hopes he git heah all right.'

“The old fellow seemed rather serious, and finally he asked Aunt Sarah 'If dat letta diin't say nuffln 'bout my ole woman Marfa.'

“'Oh, yes,' said my wife. 'Uncle Ham, you must pardon me; I was so engaged talking to Peter and Uncle Daniel about our sons that I really neglected to tell you. I will get the letter and read you what Mary says about your wife.'

“She took the letter from her pocket and read to Uncle Ham that Martha was well and so kind to Col. Tom, calling him her boy and saying 'the good Laud' had saved him for some good purpose, and sent her love to her 'dear ole Ham.'

“Ham broke into a laugh and said: 'Datfs it; dat's good. I knowed she say jes' like dat. I tell you, Aunt Marfa, she be all right. She know something I tell you she do.'

“He then entered into a disquisition on Aunt Martha to little Mary, until she seemed to feel as much interested in Aunt Martha as did Uncle Ham.

“While we were enjoying the rest of the evening in conversation we heard a noise coming from the children's bedroom. Jennie at once left us and proceeded to the room and found little Sarah Lyon—David's youngest child, then four years old—very sick with a violent attack of croup. We at once sent for a physician. He came, examined her and pronounced her very ill. He very soon gave her relief, that proved to be only temporary. We watched her during the night. In the morning she had a violent fever, and seemed to be very flighty. Everything was done for the blessed child, but all in vain. That afternoon she passed away. This was another stroke to our whole family. Jennie, her mother, was nearly frantic. This was the first misfortune of any sort that had happened in David's family. We were all cast down in grief, as we loved little Sarah. She had been named for my wife, who had made the child a special pet. Little Mary and Jennie were almost heartbroken by her death. They cried continually, and could not be pacified for several days. I telegraphed her father, but it seems my dispatch, for some unknown reason, was not delivered for three days. When it was he was almost crazed by the unwelcome news. It was too late, however, for him to come home. This seemed to sadden him. He was never himself any more during his life. Little Sarah lies in the cemetery at Allentown.”