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 a.s.sociations were hallowed.

There stood the ancestral home of the Lees, whose deserted rooms seemed haunted with memories of a n.o.ble 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 pa.s.sion 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 a.s.sume 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 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.

CHAPTER XII.

FIRST BATTLE OF BRANDY STATION.

The sentinel's lonely round.--General Pope in command of the army.--Is gunboat service effective?--First cavalry battle of Brandy Station.--Under a rain of bullets.--Flipper's orchard.--"Bring up the brigade, boys!"--Capture of Confederate prisoners.--Story of a revolver.--Cedar Mountain.--Burial of the dead rebel.--Retreat from the Rapidan.--The riderless horse.--Death of Captain Walters.

The Harris Light now entered upon exciting times, and Corporal Glazier, ever at the post of duty, had little leisure for anything unconnected with the exigencies of camp and field. At that period the men of both armies were guilty of the barbarous practice of shooting solitary sentinels at their posts, and no man went on guard at night without feeling that an inglorious death might await him in the darkness, while deprived of the power to strike a defensive blow, or to breathe a prayer.

On the twenty-second of July, 1862, a new commander was a.s.signed the Army of Virginia in the person of General John Pope. General McClellan had lost the confidence of the Northern people by his continued disasters, and was at length succeeded by General Pope, who was placed at the head of the united commands of Fremont, Banks, McDowell (and later in August), Burnside and Fitz-John Porter. General Pope commenced his duties with a ringing address to the army under his command. Among other things, he declared: "That he had heard much of 'lines of communication and retreat,' but the only _line_ in his opinion, that a general should know anything about, _was the line of the enemy's retreat_." The _dash_ of such a theory of war was extremely invigorating, and once more the hearts of the Northern people cherished and exulted in the hope that they had found the "right man for the right place." Popular enthusiasm reacted upon the army; their idol of yesterday was dethroned, and they girded their loins for a renewal of the struggle, in the full belief that, with Pope to lead them, they would write a very different chapter upon the page of History, from that which recorded their Peninsular campaign.

Here we desire to correct a statement, then current, regarding the value of the gunboat service, viz., that McClellan's army was indebted for its safety during the retreat from Malvern Hill to the gunboats stationed in James River. That this was not the case is proven by the testimony of L.

L. Dabney, chief-of-staff to General T. J. Jackson. He says: "It is a fact worthy of note, that the fire of the gunboats, so much valued by the Federals, and, at one time, so much dreaded by the Confederates, had no actual influence whatever in the battle. The noise and fury doubtless produced a certain effect upon the emotions of the a.s.sailants, but this was dependent upon their novelty. The loss effected by them was trivial when compared with the ravages of the field artillery; and it was found chiefly among their own friends. Far more of their ponderous missiles fell within their own lines than within those of the Confederates.

Indeed, a fire directed at an invisible foe across two or three miles of intervening hills and woods can never reach its aim, save by accident. Nor is the havoc wrought by the larger projectiles in proportion to their magnitude. Where one of them explodes against a human body it does, indeed, crush it into a frightful ma.s.s, but it is not likely to strike more men, in the open order of field operations, than a shot of less weight; and the wretch blown to atoms by it is not put _hors du combat_ more effectually than he whose brain is penetrated by half an ounce of lead or iron. The broadside of a modern gunboat may consist of three hundred pounds of iron projected by forty pounds of powder, but it is fired from only _two_ guns. The effect upon a line of men, therefore, is but one-fifteenth of that which the same metal might have had, fired from ten-pounder rifled guns."

The truth of the matter is, that so far as offensive operations in conjunction with that army were concerned, the gunboats were more ornamental than useful; and it is not just that the modic.u.m of glory (mingled with so much of disaster), won fairly upon that occasion by the land forces, should be awarded to another branch of the service.

General Pope was not permitted to remain long before an opportunity offered for practically testing his war theories. McClellan's troops had scarcely recovered breath after their retreat from before Richmond when Lee, leaving his entrenchments, boldly threw himself forward and met Pope and the Union forces, face to face on the old battle-ground of Mana.s.sas. The Harris Light, prior to the second battle of Bull Run, had been offered, and eagerly accepted, an opportunity to cross swords with the "Southern chivalry," and the result now was a desperate encounter at Brandy Station. The first action which baptized in blood this historic ground took place August twentieth, 1862. About six o'clock in the morning a heavy column of Stuart's cavalry was discovered approaching from the direction of Culpepper, and Kilpatrick received orders to check their advance. The Harris Light, acting as rear guard of Bayard's brigade, kept the enemy in check until Bayard could form his command at a more favorable point two miles north of the station.

Corporal Glazier was in the front rank of the first squadron that led the charge, and repulsed the enemy. His horse was wounded in the neck, and his saddle and canteen perforated with bullets.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Federal Canteens For Confederate Tobacco]

The fight at Flipper's Orchard preceded that at Brandy Station by more than a month, having occurred on the Fourth of July. The Troy company of the Harris Light had been ordered, about eight o'clock in the morning of that day, to reconnoitre the Telegraph Road, south of Fredericksburg.

Leaving camp, they soon came in sight of a detachment of Bath cavalry on patrol duty, escorting the Richmond mail. They learned the strength of the enemy from some colored people along the route, and also the probability that they would halt at Flipper's Orchard for refreshments.

This place was on the south bank of the Po River, some twenty miles from Fredericksburg, in an angle formed by the roads leading to Bull Church and the Rappahannock. After following them for several hours, the company halted for consultation, "and," says Glazier, "our lieutenant put the question to vote, whether we should go on and capture the foe, about one hundred strong, or return to camp. The vote was unanimous for battle. I was in charge of the advance guard, having a squad of four men, and received orders to strike a gallop. Just as we came within sight of the Orchard, we saw the Confederates dismounting and making leisurely arrangements for their repast. Dashing spurs into our horses'

flanks, we wheeled round the corner and along the Bull Church Road, sweeping down upon them with tremendous clatter. 'Here they are, boys!'

I shouted; 'bring up the brigade!' We were about forty in number, but surprised them completely, and they fled panic-stricken. Twelve men and nine horses were captured. On reaching Dr. Flipper's house, I noticed a dismounted Confederate officer who, with others, was running across a wheat-field. I started in hot pursuit, jumping my horse over a six-rail fence to reach him. He fired upon me with both carbine and revolver, but missed his mark, and by this time I stood over him with my navy-revolver, demanding his surrender. He gave up his arms and equipments, which were speedily transferred to my own person. We made quick work of the fight, the whole affair lasting not longer than fifteen minutes. The Confederate reserves were only a short distance off at Bull Church, and we hurried back with our spoils towards the Rappahannock, fearful that we might be overtaken. My prisoner, as I afterward learned, was Lieutenant Powell, in command of the patrol. His revolver has a story of its own. It was a beautiful silver-mounted weapon, and I resolved to keep possession of it as my especial trophy, instead of turning it over to the Quartermaster's Department. This was not an easy matter, as vigilant eyes were on the look-out for all 'munitions of war captured from the enemy,' which were consigned to a common receptacle. I therefore dug a hole in the ground of our tent and buried my treasure, where it remained until we changed our encampment.

One day, some time after, I carelessly left it lying on a log, a short distance from camp, and on returning found it gone. While I stood there deploring my ill luck, I heard a succession of clear, snapping shots just beyond a rise of ground directly in front of me, and recognized the familiar report of my revolver. Going in the direction of the shots, I rescued it from the hands of a sergeant by whom it had been temporarily confiscated. After this adventure I concluded to incur no further risks with the weapon, and so packed it in a cigar-box and sent it to my sister Elvira."

The battle of Cedar Mountain, fought on the afternoon of August ninth, 1862, needs only a pa.s.sing notice in connection with this record. The battalion in which Corporal Glazier served acted as body-guard to General McDowell, and arrived on the field just as the wave of battle was receding. The following morning, on pa.s.sing over the slopes of Cedar Mountain, where the guns of General Banks had made sad havoc on the previous day, a dead Confederate soldier, partially unburied, attracted the attention of the troopers. At that period of the war a sentiment of extreme bitterness toward the adversary pervaded the ranks on both sides, and as the squadron swept by the men showered on the poor dead body remarks expressive of their contempt. Corporal Glazier was an exception. Moved by an impulse born of our common humanity, he returned and buried the cold, stark corpse, covering it with mother Earth; and when questioned why he gave such consideration to a miserable dead rebel, replied, that he thought any man brave enough to die for a principle, should be respected for that bravery, whether his cause were right or wrong.

On the eighteenth of the month our cavalry relieved the infantry on the line of the Rapidan, and on the nineteenth, in a sharp skirmish between Stuart's and Bayard's forces, Captain Charles Walters, of the Harris Light Cavalry, was killed. This officer was very popular in the regiment, and his death cast a gloom over all. Wrapped in a soldier's blanket his body was consigned to a soldier's grave at the solemn hour of midnight. And while the sad obsequies were being performed, orders came for the retreat to Culpepper.

"We buried him darkly at dead of night, The sod with our bayonets turning, By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And our lanterns dimly burning.

"Slowly and sadly we laid him down, On the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, But left him alone with his glory."