CHAPTER IV

MARRIAGE--THE RAID TOWARD RICHMOND

In November, 1863, Edward received a month's leave of absence from his

regiment, and during this time was married to Miss Anna Sands. The

ceremony was performed by the venerable Dr. Adams in Madison Square

church, and was followed by a large reception at the bride's home in

Seventeenth Street, New York. Leaving his bride there when the furlough

was over, my brother returned to his regiment.

In this letter, written just after reaching camp, he dwells upon some

of the contrasts of army life.

"After a long absence I experienced a decided thrill of pleasure on

finding myself once more among the white tents and familiar scenes

of the camp, for there is something very fascinating about army

life, notwithstanding its hardship and exposure. Very pleasant,

too, was the hearty welcome I received, and numberless great brown

hands, reeking with moisture and pork grease from the meal they

were superintending, gave me a grip that made my joints snap again.

Still I much preferred it to your fashionable Northern two-fingered

touch. It had a language whose meaning I liked. It showed I had the

first requisite for doing good amongst them--their confidence and

affection. I found only a part, though a large part, of my regiment

at this place, which is a dismounted cavalry camp, containing the

fragments of twenty or thirty regiments. Men whose horses have

given out or been killed at the front come here and remain till

they are again mounted and equipped, when they rejoin their

commands. Our stay here will probably be brief, for we are ordered

to the front as soon as possible.

"One Saturday morning the monotony of camp life was decidedly

broken. The day had been warm, and for a time the hum of camp

activity had subsided almost into silence. The orderlies went to

and fro as usual, but their horses had a listless, indolent canter,

characteristic of all exertion at such a time. But as the day

declined there were marks of unusual bustle at headquarters. A ball

was to be given that evening by the commanding officer. All

officers present of our regiment were invited. As far as I could

learn, music, dancing, and drinking were to be the staple

amusements of the evening. Not caring to participate in the two

latter, and as I could enjoy the first in my tent, I expected to

remain very quietly at my quarters. At dusk the revelry commenced.

At nine o'clock a carriage drove up to our quarters. It contained

Captain Downing of our regiment, who had just come in from the

front, bringing with him the dead body of one of our officers who

had been drowned while bathing. This was sad news indeed, for

Lieutenant Stewart was a good soldier and very popular. The captain

wished to see the officer in command of our detachment. I went up

to the headquarters to assist in finding him. All was gayety and

frolic there. It was truly a beautiful scene. The trees were hung

with Chinese lanterns of many colors. The guards paced backward and

forward on the spacious lawn, their arms glittering in the

moonlight, which glimmered through the grand old trees. In the

distance the Potomac lay like a silver lake, with here and there a

white sail upon its bosom. Over the green turf gayly dressed ladies

and officers in rich uniform were tripping some light measure,

while the clinking of glasses showed that the wine was passing

freely. No one could help enjoying the music from the full military

band.

"Having noted the picturesque beauty of the scene, and moralized to

myself awhile unnoticed among the throng, I thought I would step

over to the hospital and see how the sick boys were enjoying the

revel. It was not over fifty yards from the music-stand. Though it

might be pleasure to others, it was death to them. One poor fellow,

far gone with the typhoid fever, and excited by the music and

noise, was talking to himself in wild delirium. He has since died.

All were restless and sleepless. I said a few quieting words, and

was about leaving when a man asked me if I would not offer a

prayer. "I am not a Christian man," he remarked, "but I would like

to hear a prayer to-night." Of course I complied, and soon the

words of supplication were mingling with the gay notes of the

quickstep. I have seen the man since several times, and have good

reason to believe that he has become a sincere, earnest Christian.

The contrast in his two modes of life will be most marked. He told

me that when at home he would often take his wife to church, and

then ride on further and trade horses during the service, and call

for his wife on his return. As may be imagined, army life had not

improved his morals. Still the influence of his Christian wife

followed him, and during his days of sickness came back in tenfold

power, and the kindly Spirit of our merciful Father, ever-striving,

led him to the Saviour.

"After leaving the hospital I met the sergeant of the guard, and

found him arming a body of men. "We are going to have trouble

to-night," he said to me. The camp below was in a ferment. There

were many there who loved whisky as well as the more privileged at

headquarters. At first the rioters (who were mainly from a regiment

of regulars) threatened to appropriate the officers' stores and

break up the ball. But hardly daring to do that, they turned their

attention to a sutler's tent and eating-house. They soon demolished

his establishment and set fire to his premises. They here obtained

the much desired whisky, and excited by liquor, they boldly began

preparations to attack another sutler who was unpopular. The riot

was now getting formidable. From my tent I could overlook the whole

camp and scenes at headquarters. Meantime our regiment was arming

and procuring ammunition. Fifty of our men were already acting as

guards. They formed and received their cartridges in front of our

tents, thus drawing attention to the headquarters of our

detachment, which I thought at one time would provoke an attack

upon us. I dreaded this, for one of our officers had left his wife

in my charge at the commencement of the disturbance. Our men then

marched to headquarters, fearing the first attack would be there.

For a few moments all was still throughout the camp. Then there

were signals in all directions. In a few moments more the mules

were stampeded from the corrall. They then proceeded to attack the

sutler's tent just below us. Here the guards fired upon them, which

caused them to retreat to the burning sutler's tent in the middle

of the camp. Then I could see our men coming down from the

headquarters on a full run. Wheeling at a certain point, they

charged without a moment's hesitation. For a short time shots were

fired in rapid succession, when the rioters broke and ran. The ball

was arrested. The order was given, 'Every officer to his post.' The

ladies, pale and frightened, were huddled together, asking anxious

questions. Many of the officers might be seen in their ball-dress

walking and riding through the camp with sword and pistol driving

the men into their tents. Such volleys of horrible oaths as were

heard in every direction I hope may never shock my ears again.

Officers cursed the men, and the men cursed the officers. For a

time things looked rather serious. Meanwhile our boys stood grim

and expectant, ready to quell any show of resistance. In a few

minutes the whole camp was under arms, but the ringleaders having

been caught, quiet was eventually restored. My heart ached for the

young wife who saw the exposure of her husband and felt her own

danger, and who was compelled to listen to the awful profanity of

the hour. I will say, for the benefit of all concerned, that there

was nothing of a political nature in the outbreak. Whatever may be

the soldiers' vices, they have not yet sunk so far as to sympathize

with Northern 'copperheads.' The cause, as far as I could learn,

was the unpopularity of the sutlers, jealousy of our regiment

because the guard of honor for the evening was chosen from it, and

a desire for whisky, for which a certain class will do and dare

anything. After quiet was restored the dancing, music, and drinking

were resumed as though nothing had happened. Meanwhile, on one side

the poor fellows in the hospital tossed and moaned and raved in

their restlessness and delirium, and on the other lay the two

rioters stiff and stark upon the ground, their souls rudely thrust

out into the unknown amidst riot and intoxication, soon to be

sobered but too well by their abrupt plunge into the dusk waters of

death. Life presents to the close observer peculiar phases and

contrasts at all times, but it seems that in the events of this

evening there was a strange mingling of life and death, pleasure

and pain. Yet in the sick and repentant soldier God was at least

fashioning one soul from out this moral and social chaos for the

perfect symmetry of heaven. I had hoped that after the night's

uproar we should have a quiet Sabbath, but was disappointed in

this, for orders came in the morning to arm, mount, and equip every

available man and send them all to the front. And so throughout the

day the clangor of arms, the trampling of men and horses, and the

words of command, made the quiet peacefulness of a Northern Sabbath

a thing scarcely to be imagined."

Late in February, 1864, Edward joined General Kilpatrick in his famous

raid towards Richmond. He wrote a brief account of this, which was

published in _Lippincott's Magazine_.

"In the dusk of Sunday evening four thousand men were masked in the

woods on the banks of the Rapidan. Our scouts opened the way, by

wading the stream and pouncing upon the unsuspecting picket of

twenty Confederates opposite. Then away we went across a cold,

rapid river, marching all that night through the dim woods and

openings in a country that was emphatically the enemy's. Lee's

entire army was on our right, the main Confederate cavalry force on

our left. The strength of our column and its objective point could

not remain long unknown.

"In some unimportant ways I acted as aid for Kilpatrick. A few

hundred yards in advance of the main body rode a vanguard of two

hundred men thrown forward to warn us should we strike any

considerable number of the enemy's cavalry. As is ever the case,

the horses of a small force will walk away from a much larger body,

and it was necessary from time to time to send word to the

vanguard, ordering it to 'slow up.' This order was occasionally

intrusted to me. I was to gallop over the interval between the two

columns, then draw up by the roadside and sit motionless on my

horse till the general with his staff came up. The slightest

irregularity of action would bring a shot from our own men, while

the prospect of an interview with the Johnnies while thus isolated

was always good. I saw one of our officers shot that night. He had

ridden carelessly into the woods, and rode out again just before

the head of the column, without instantly accounting for himself.

As it was of vital importance to keep the movement secret as long

as possible, the poor fellow was silenced in sad error as to his

identity.

"On we rode, night and day, with the briefest possible halts. At

one point we nearly captured a railroad train, and might easily

have succeeded had not the station and warehouses been in flames.

As it was, the train approached us closely, then backed, the

shrieking engine giving the impression of being startled to the

last degree.

"On a dreary, drizzling, foggy day we passed a milestone on which

was lettered, 'Four miles to Richmond.' It was still 'on to

Richmond' with us for what seemed a long way farther, and then came

a considerable period of hesitancy, in which the command was drawn

up for the final dash. The enemy shelled a field near us

vigorously, but fortunately, or unfortunately, the fog was so dense

that neither party could make accurate observations or do much

execution.

"For reasons that have passed into history, the attack was not

made. We withdrew six miles from the city and went into camp.

"I had scarcely begun to enjoy much-needed rest before the

Confederates came up in the darkness and shelled us out of such

quarters as we had found. We had to leave our boiling coffee behind

us--one of the greatest hardships I have ever known. Then followed

a long night ride down the Peninsula, in driving sleet and rain.

"The next morning the sun broke out gloriously, warming and drying

our chilled, wet forms. Nearly all that day we maintained a line of

battle confronting the pursuing enemy. One brigade would take a

defensive position, while the other would march about five miles to

a commanding point, where it in turn would form a line. The first

brigade would then give way, pass through the second, and take

position well to the rear. Thus, although retreating, we were

always ready to fight. At one point the enemy pressed us closely,

and I saw a magnificent cavalry charge down a gentle descent in the

road. Every sabre seemed tipped with fire in the brilliant

sunshine.

"In the afternoon it became evident that there was a body of troops

before us. Who or what they were was at first unknown, and for a

time the impression prevailed that we would have to cut our way

through by a headlong charge. We soon learned, however, that the

force was a brigade of colored infantry, sent up to cover our

retreat. It was the first time we had seen negro troops, but as the

long line of glistening bayonets and light-blue uniforms came into

view, prejudices, if any there were, vanished at once, and a cheer

from the begrimed troopers rang down our line, waking the echoes.

It was a pleasant thing to march past that array of faces, friendly

though black, and know we were safe. They represented the F.F.V.'s

of Old Virginia we then wished to see. On the last day of the

march my horse gave out, compelling me to walk and lead him.

"On the day after our arrival at Yorktown Kilpatrick gave me

despatches for the authorities at Washington. President Lincoln,

learning that I had just returned from the raid, sent for me, and I

had a memorable interview with him alone in his private room. He

expressed profound solicitude for Colonel Dahlgren and his party.

They had been detached from the main force, and I could give no

information concerning them. We eventually learned of the death of

that heroic young officer, Colonel Dahlgren."

E. P. Roe: Reminiscences of his Life · 第 4 / 15 章