INTRODUCTION TO MILITARY LIFE.
The mutterings of war.--Enlistment.--At Camp Howe.--First
experience as a soldier.--"One step to the front!"--Beyond
Washington.--On guard.--Promotion.--Recruiting service.--The
deserted home on Arlington Heights.--"How shall I behave in the
coming battle?"--The brave Bayard.--On the march.--The stratagem
at Falmouth Heights.--A brilliant charge.--After the battle.
The inevitable results of the discord so long pending between North and
South accumulated day by day; and when, at length, Abraham Lincoln was
elected by a large popular majority, that election was, as everybody
knows, immediately followed by the calling of a Southern States
Convention, the secession, one after another, of each of those States,
the capture of Fort Sumter, the killing of Ellsworth, and the defeat of
the Federal troops at Bull Run. All of these occurrences contributed to
inflame the passions, intensify the opinions, and arouse the enthusiasm
of the people of both sections to fever-heat.
It was in the whirl and torrent of this popular storm that Willard
Glazier was caught up and swept into the ranks of the Union army.
His regiment, the Harris Light Cavalry, was originally intended for the
regular service--to rank as the Seventh Regular Cavalry. The general
government, however, concluded to limit the number of their regiments of
horse to six--the reasons for which are given by Captain Glazier in
his "Soldiers of the Saddle," as follows:
"Under the military _regime_ of General Scott, the cavalry arm of the
service had been almost entirely overlooked. His previous campaigns in
Mexico, which consisted chiefly of the investment of walled towns and of
assaults on fortresses, had not been favorable to extensive cavalry
operations, and he was not disposed, at so advanced an age in life,
materially to change his tactics of war."
[Illustration: A Cavalry Column On The March.]
Hence, this regiment was mustered into service as the "Second Regiment
of New York Cavalry," and, as Senator Ira Harris had extended to the
organization the influence of his name and purse, it soon came to be
called the "Harris Light Cavalry," and retained that title throughout
the whole of its eventful career. The natural tastes of young Glazier
led him into this branch of the service in preference to the infantry,
and we find him writing to his sister Marjorie as follows:
Camp Howe, near Scarsdale, New York,
_August 16th, 1861_.
My Dear Sister: From the post-mark of this letter you will at once
conjecture the truth ere I tell it to you, and I can fancy you
saying to yourself when you glance at it: "Willard is no longer
talking about enlisting but has really entered the army." You are
right, I now wear the Union Blue.
Many of our home friends will doubtless wonder why I have
sacrificed my professional prospects at a time when they first
began to look cheering, in order to share the hardships and perils
of a soldier's life. But I need not explain, to _you_, my reasons
for doing so. When our country is threatened with destruction by
base and designing men, in order to gratify personal ambition and
love of sway, it becomes her sons to go to her rescue and avert the
impending ruin. The rebelling South has yet to learn the difference
between the _true principles_ of the Constitution and the
_delusion_ of "State rights." It is as easy to die a volunteer as a
drafted soldier, and in my opinion, is infinitely more honorable.
I shall return to my studies as soon as the Rebellion is put down
and the authority of our Government fully restored, and not _until_
then.
Let me give you a sketch of our movements thus far. Having reached
Troy at 3 o'clock on the afternoon of the day you and I parted, I
spent the remainder of the evening until 8 o'clock in the city. At
that hour we embarked for New York, and the boys had a very
exciting and enthusiastic time on board the steamer Vanderbilt.
Wednesday was spent at 648 Broadway, Regimental Headquarters of the
"Harris Light Cavalry;" and on that night we came by train to our
present camp: or, rather, as near it as we could, for it is two
miles from the nearest station. The spot is picturesque enough to
be described. An old farm, surrounded by stone fences that look
like ramparts, constitutes the camp. The Hudson and Harlem rivers
are in full view, and the country around is full of beauty. On the
first night we _bivouacked_ upon the bare sod, with no covering for
our bodies but the broad canopy of heaven. It was not until a late
hour on the following afternoon that our white tents began to dot
the ground and gleam through the dark foliage of the trees.
Crowds of visitors from the neighboring village come out every day
to see us. My health was never better, and this sort of life
affords me keen enjoyment. The very roughness of it is
invigorating. My present writing-desk is the top of the stone wall
I have alluded to, so you must criticise neither my penmanship nor
my style. I received a letter from father on Tuesday afternoon,
and, thank God! I enter the service with his full approbation. The
discipline enforced here is strict, our rations are good, fruit is
very abundant, and to be had for the asking; so that if you will
only write soon and often, there will be little else required to
fill the wants of
Your affectionate brother, Willard.
Fortunately for their future comfort, the Harris Light Cavalry, at the
very outset of its military career, was placed under the charge of a
rigid and skilful disciplinarian--one Captain A. N. Duffie--who, having
graduated honorably at the celebrated French military school, St. Cyr,
possessed all the martial enthusiasm as well as personal peculiarities
of his excitable countrymen.
The captain either was, or believed himself to be, an eloquent speaker,
and his efforts at rhetorical display, added to his French pronunciation
of English words, became a source of great amusement to the men. He was
wont to harangue them, as if they were about to enter upon a sanguinary
battle. The old stone walls of the peaceful farm were pictured as
bristling with the enemy's bayonets, and the boys were called on to
"charge" at the hidden foe and capture him.
"One morning," says Captain Glazier, "after a week spent in drill, we
were all surprised by receiving an order to 'fall into line,' and
discovered that the object of this movement was to listen to a
Napoleonic harangue from Captain Duffie. So loud had been our protests,
so manifest our rebellious spirit on the subject of fortifying a
peaceful farm on the banks of the Hudson, that the captain undoubtedly
feared he might not be very zealously supported by us in his future
movements, and, like Napoleon on assuming command of the Army of Italy,
sought to test the devotion of his men. After amusing us a-while in
broken English, appealing to our patriotism and honor, he at length
shouted:
"'Now, as many of you as are ready to follow me to the cannon's mouth,
take one step to the front!'
"This _ruse_ was perfectly successful, and the whole line took the
desired step."
The time passed pleasantly enough in this camp of instruction, despite
the monotony of drill and guard duty, and, by the time the order to
break camp reached the men, they were well advanced in the duties of the
soldier.
The regiment left Camp Howe about the end of August, and, passing
through New York, entered that most beautiful and patriotic of cities,
Philadelphia, where they were royally entertained by the managers of the
"Volunteer Refreshment Saloon." They at length reached Washington and
encamped a half mile beyond the Capitol.
From this point Glazier writes to his mother as follows:
Camp Oregon,
Near Washington, D.C.,
_August 25th, 1861_.
Dear Mother: I am at present seated under the branches of a large
peach tree that marks the spot where two sentinels of our army,
while on duty last night, were shot by the rebels. I was one of the
same guard, having been assigned to such duty for the first time
since entering the service. Like all other sentinels, I was obliged
to walk my lonely beat with drawn sabre.
It may interest you to know where I performed my first guard duty.
It was in front of the residence of a rabid secessionist, who is
now an officer in the famous Black-Horse Cavalry. You may remember
that this regiment was reported to have been utterly destroyed at
Bull Run, and yet I am informed by Washingtonians that it had but
two companies in the fight. So much for newspaper gossip.
During the day I was very kindly treated by the family of this
gentleman, but in the evening our camp commander came to me and
said: "Take this revolver, and if you value your life, be vigilant.
_Remember, you are not at Scarsdale now!_" He, of course, referred
to our old camp near Scarsdale, twenty-four miles from New York.
Our present one is a little over half a mile from the Capitol, and
from my tent I can see the dome of that building, glittering, like
a ball of gold, in the sunlight.
Yesterday I paid a visit to the city. The streets were crowded with
infantry, artillery and cavalry soldiers, all actively engaged in
preparing for the coming conflict. An engagement seems to be close
at hand. Entrenchments are being dug and batteries erected in every
direction. The citizens do not apprehend any danger from an attack
by the enemy.
My regiment has been attached to Brigadier-General Baker's
Brigade. It will be three weeks to-morrow since I enlisted. I have
been in this camp one week, and one week was spent at Camp Howe,
Scarsdale, New York.
We are being rapidly prepared for field service. Our drill is very
rigid, yet I submit to the discipline willingly, and I find that
hard study is as essential to the composition of a good soldier as
to a good teacher. I have purchased a copy of the "Cavalry
Tactics," and devote every leisure hour to its mastery. There is
but one thing which gives me any serious annoyance now, and that is
the question of the ways and means for the education of my brothers
and sisters. I think Elvira and Marjorie had better teach this
winter, and then, if the war should be concluded before next
spring, I will make arrangements for their attendance at school
again. With kindest love to all, I am
Your loving and dutiful son,
Willard.
About two months more were occupied by the Harris Light in camp-duty,
scouting and foraging, but almost immediately after their arrival in
Virginia, young Glazier was promoted to the rank of Corporal. Shortly
after his promotion he was detailed for recruiting service and sent to
the city of New York for that purpose. The great city was in a turmoil
of excitement.
The "Tammany" organization carried things with a high hand, and was
opposed by the equally powerful Union League. Between these two centres
the current of public opinion ran in strong tides. But, in the midst of
it all, the young corporal was successful in his recruiting service, and
on the second day of December rejoined his comrades, who were then at
Camp Palmer, Arlington Heights.
This spot was one of peculiar beauty. Its associations were hallowed.
There stood the ancestral home of the Lees, whose deserted rooms seemed
haunted with memories of a noble race. Its floors had echoed to the
tread of youth and beauty. Its walls had witnessed gatherings of renown.
From its portals rode General Lee to take command of the Richmond
troops--a man who must be revered for his qualities of heart and
remembered especially by the North as one who, amid all the fury of
passion which the war engendered, was never betrayed into an intemperate
expression towards the enemy. _Now_, the halls and porches of the quaint
old building rang with the tread of armed men. Its rooms were despoiled,
and that atmosphere of desolation which ever clings about a deserted
home, enveloped the place. A winding roadway under thick foliaged trees,
led down the Heights to the "Long Bridge," crossing the Potomac. Near
the house stood an old-fashioned "well sweep" which carried a
moss-covered bucket on its trips down the well, to bring up the most
sparkling of water. Instinctively a feeling of sadness took possession
of the heart at the mournful contrast between the past and present of
this beautiful spot.
"Ah, crueler than fire or flood
Come steps of men of alien blood,
And silently the treacherous air
Closes--and keeps no token, where
Its dead are buried."
The day of trial--the baptism of battle--seemed rapidly approaching.
General McClellan, having drilled and manoeuvred and viewed and reviewed
the Army of the Potomac, until what had been little better than an armed
and uniformed mob began to assume the aspect of a body of regulars,
determined upon an advance movement. Accordingly on the third of March,
1862, the army marched upon Centreville, captured the "Quaker" guns
and, much to the disgust of his followers, fell back upon his original
position, instead of continuing the advance.
As the Harris Light enjoyed throughout this campaign of magnificent
possibilities, the honor of being "Little Mac's" body guard, they were
of course during the forward movement in high spirits. They believed it
to be the initial step to a vigorous campaign in which they might hold
the post of honor. But when the order to fall back came, their
disappointment was great indeed. At first they were mystified, but it
soon leaked out that a council of war had been held and that McClellan's
plan of the Peninsular Campaign had been adopted.
It had also been determined that a section of the army should be left
behind, under the command of General Irvin McDowell, to guard the
approaches to Washington.
The First Pennsylvania Cavalry, under the command of General (then
Colonel) George Dashiel Bayard, and the Harris Light, remained with the
latter force. Under such a leader as Bayard, the men could have no fear
of rusting in inactivity. He was the soul of honor, the bravest of the
brave. No more gallant spirit ever took up the sword, no kinder heart
ever tempered valor, no life was more stainless, no death could be more
sad; for the day that was appointed for his nuptials closed over his
grave.
Judson Kilpatrick, one of those restless, nervous, energetic and
self-reliant spirits who believe in themselves thoroughly, and make up
in activity what they lack in method, was Colonel of the Harris Light,
and the dawning glory of young Bayard's fame excited a spirit of
emulation, if not of envy in his heart, which found vent in a very
creditable desire to equal or excel that leader in the field. The
brilliant night attack on Falmouth Heights was one of the first results
of this rivalry, and as it was also the initial battle in Corporal
Glazier's experience, we give his own vivid description of it as it is
found in "Three Years in the Federal Cavalry."
"Our instructions," he says, "were conveyed to us in a whisper. A
beautiful moonlight fell upon the scene, which was as still as death;
and with proud determination the two young cavalry chieftains moved
forward to the night's fray. Bayard was to attack on the main road in
front, but not until Kilpatrick had commenced operations on their right
flank, by a detour through a narrow and neglected wood-path. As the
Heights were considered well-nigh impregnable, it was necessary to
resort to some stratagem, for which Kilpatrick showed a becoming
aptness.
"Having approached to within hearing distance of the rebel pickets, but
before we were challenged, Kilpatrick shouted with his clear voice,
which sounded like a trumpet on the still night air:
"'Bring up your artillery in the centre, and infantry on the left!'
"'Well, but, Colonel,' said an honest though rather obtuse Captain, 'we
haven't got any inf--'
"'Silence in the ranks!' commanded the leader. 'Artillery in the centre,
infantry on the left!'
"The pickets caught and spread the alarm and thus greatly facilitated
our hazardous enterprise.
"'Charge!' was the order which then thrilled the ranks, and echoed
through the dark, dismal woods; and the column swept up the rugged
heights in the midst of blazing cannon and rattling musketry.
[Illustration: Night Attack On Falmouth Heights.]
"So steep was the ascent that not a few saddles slipped off the horses,
precipitating their riders into a creek which flowed lazily at the base
of a hill; while others fell dead and dying, struck by the missiles of
destruction which filled the air. But the field was won, and the enemy,
driven at the point of the sabre, fled unceremoniously down the heights,
through Falmouth and over the bridge which spanned the Rappahannock,
burning that beautiful structure behind them, to prevent pursuit."
This engagement, while otherwise of but little importance, was valuable
because it taught the enemy that the Federals could use the cavalry arm
of the service as effectively as their infantry.
All accounts agree that Corporal Glazier acquitted himself very
creditably in his first battle. After the action was over he accompanied
his comrades to the field and contributed his best aid towards the care
of the wounded and the unburied dead. Such an experience was full of
painful contrast to the quiet scenes of home and school life to which he
had hitherto been accustomed. In his history, as with thousands of other
brave boys who missed death through many battles, this period was the
sharp prelude to a long experience of successive conflicts, of weary
marches seasoned with hunger, of prison starvation and the many
privations which fall to the lot of the soldier, all glorified when
given freely in the defence of liberty and country.