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+    <meta charset="UTF-8">
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+    <title>
+      The twin seven-shooters | Project Gutenberg
+    </title>
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+    </style>
+</head>
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77379 ***</div>
+
+
+
+
+<div id="half_title">
+<p>The Twin<br>
+Seven-Shooters.
+</p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="i004" style="max-width: 24em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i004.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+      <p>CHARLES F. MANDERSON<br>
+         Colonel 19th Ohio Infantry.<br>
+         Brevet Brigadier General Volunteers, U. S. A.</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<div style="border-width: medium; border-style: solid; width: 40%; margin: auto;">
+<div class="box">
+<h1>
+The Twin Seven-Shooters.
+</h1>
+</div>
+<div class="box">
+<p class="center" style="font-size: small">BY
+<p class="center" style="font-size: large">CHARLES F. MANDERSON</p>
+<p class="center" style="font-size: small">LATE COLONEL 19TH OHIO VOLUNTEER INFANTRY, BREVET<br>
+BRIGADIER-GENERAL VOLS., U.S.A.</p>
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="logo" style="max-width: 9em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/logo.png" alt="">
+</figure>
+</div>
+<div class="box" style="padding-bottom: 1em">
+<p class="center" style="font-size: large">F. TENNYSON NEELY</p>
+<div style="float:left; width:50%; text-align:center; margin:0">
+<p class="center">114 Fifth Avenue<br>NEW YORK</p>
+</div>
+<div style="float:right; width:50%; text-align:center; margin:0">
+<p class="center">96 Queen Street<br>LONDON</p>
+</div>
+<div style="clear: both;"></div>
+</div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p class="center" style="line-height: 1.3">
+Copyright, 1902,<br>
+by<br>
+CHARLES F. MANDERSON,<br>
+in the<br>
+United States<br>
+and<br>
+Great Britain.<br>
+<br>
+Entered at Stationers’ Hall,<br>
+London.
+</p>
+<hr class="r5">
+<p class="center">All Rights Reserved.</p>
+<p style="margin-top: 6em;"><i>The Twin Seven-Shooters.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</span></p>
+</div>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+<p>
+  “<i>We came into the world like brother and brother,</i><br>
+  ‘<i>And now let’s go hand in hand, not one before another.</i>”
+</p>
+
+<p style="text-indent: 2em">
+  —<span class="smcap">Dromio</span>, in “Comedy of Errors.”
+</p>
+</div>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_ii"></a><a id="Page_iii"></a>[Pg iii]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="INTRODUCTION">
+    INTRODUCTION.
+  </h2>
+<hr class="r5">
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> telling of this truthful story of the
+Great War comes from the numerous requests
+of comrades, who knew somewhat
+of the presentation, the capture and the
+return of the pair of revolvers that came
+together after a quarter of a century of
+separation and after they had been carried
+and used under two flags. Their restoration
+could not have been had under any
+other condition than that which came
+about at the close of our gigantic struggle.</p>
+
+<p>The Civil War was waged on both the
+Federal and Confederate sides with an intensity
+and manly vigor characteristic of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_iv">[Pg iv]</span>the race that sprang from the loins of the
+Puritan and the Cavalier.</p>
+
+<p>The immense hosts that combated upon
+so many dreadful fields, with the incident
+sacrifice of life and limb, while actuated
+by the desire to win, by comparison with
+which individual loss counted as nothing,
+were never prompted by personal hatred
+or ill will. They fought to obtain the result
+desired, and when the end came, with
+its feeling of exultation by the one and of
+depression by the other, there was mutual
+respect and common consideration, that
+led naturally to a reunited country and
+the placing of the Great Republic in its
+present position as the Chiefest of Nations.</p>
+
+<p>The story permits a description of two
+great battles—that of Murfreesboro, or
+Stone’s River, and of Chattanooga, or Mission
+Ridge—the first-named one of the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</span>hardest fought fields of the War, and the
+last, one of the most spectacular. The recital
+of these calls for no explanation, and
+I hope the personal equation of the story
+needs no apology.</p>
+
+<p style="text-indent: 2em">
+  <span class="smcap">Charles F. Manderson</span>,</p>
+
+  <p style="padding-left: 4em">Late Colonel, 19th Regiment Ohio Infantry.<br>
+  B’v’t Brig. Gen. Vols., U.S.A.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="PROLOGUE">
+    PROLOGUE.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="i014" style="max-width: 28em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i014.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+      <p class="upper-case">“Resting quietly in their polished case of
+dark mahogany with its soft lining of tufted crimson silk.”</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Resting</span> quietly in their polished case of
+dark mahogany, with its soft lining of tufted
+crimson silk, they look harmless indeed and
+as though their lives had been uneventful.
+Yet, could they speak with other tongues
+than those of fire and smoke, they could tell
+a tale to interest and thrill—of scenes of
+bloody encounter and deadly strife, of combat
+and carnage, of victory and defeat, of
+raid and destruction, of pursuit and capture,
+of loss and recovery, of separation and reunion,—in
+short, the exciting story of war,
+and the captivating tale of peace.</p>
+
+<p>You take up the pair of revolvers with a
+new interest. Yes! they are handsome.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</span>Shapely and well proportioned, they deserve
+your exclamation of admiration. The blued
+steel of barrels and cylinders contrasts attractively
+with the silver mounting of the
+handles, so well fitted to the grasp.</p>
+
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="i021" style="max-width: 20.0em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i021.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+      <p class="upper-case" style="text-align: left">“You take them in hand!</p>
+<p class="right upper-case">
+  You glance along the sights!”
+</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>You take them in hand! You glance
+along the sights! Ah! my friend, time was
+when the threatening glint of the eye that
+brought these sights in line was quite different
+from the gentle light in yours. And
+now you read inquiringly the inscription,
+showing the presentation, deeply engraved
+upon the silver handle band of each seven
+shooter. Yes, I am the regimental commander
+to whom they were presented, by the
+braves of the gallant 19th Regiment of Ohio
+Infantry, nearly forty years ago. I had
+lived but little over half that many years,
+when they came to me and, since the date
+you read upon them, I have grown grizzled.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p>
+
+<p>The scene of the presentation, the causes
+that led to it and the after events of note, are
+as vivid as though they were of yesterday
+and yet there is the strange feeling as though
+I spoke of some other and not of myself.
+I take it that most of us who served through
+those four momentous years of gigantic war
+now feel as though the experiences were
+those of a third person, of whom we had
+knowledge, intimate indeed, but with whom
+we had not identity. As you ask for the
+story, it shall be given unto you.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">
+    CONTENTS.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+<hr class="r5">
+<table class="autotable">
+<tr>
+<th class="tdl"></th>
+<th class="tdr" style="font-size: small">PAGE</th>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl" style="width:85%"><span class="smcap">Prologue</span></td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2" style="padding: 0.5em">SCENE I.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">The Battle</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2" style="padding: 0.5em">SCENE II.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">The Presentation</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_24">24</a><br></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2" style="padding: 0.5em">SCENE III.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">The Capture</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_29">29</a><br></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2" style="padding: 0.5em">SCENE IV.</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">The Reunion</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_44">44</a><br></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdc" colspan="2"><hr class="r10"></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl">Epilogue</td>
+<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span></p>
+
+  <p class="ph1">
+    The Twin Seven-Shooters.
+  </p>
+<hr class="r5">
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="SCENE_I">
+    SCENE I.
+    <br>
+    THE BATTLE.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> recital will start fairly on Christmas
+day of the year 1862, near Nashville, in the
+camps of the Army of the Cumberland, then
+commanded by General Rosecrans.</p>
+
+<p>The festive holiday time had increased the
+usually present disease, until home-sickness
+was the all-pervading complaint. As the
+picket peered through the gloomy air under
+the dull, wintry sky, he saw, in his mind’s
+eye, the dear ones at home, gathered about
+the yule-log. The sentry’s thoughts were
+far away, as he challenged the approaching
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span>guard, that brought relief, but gave none
+save in name, and received the sharp replies,
+so different from the words of good cheer
+properly incident to the time. The men
+gathered about the camp fires during the
+evening hours with abortive attempts at
+merriment, soon to be given up, and then to
+talk in whispers of friends and family and
+home. The bugle calls, holding out the
+promise that balmy sleep might bring forgetfulness,
+were welcomed; although tattoo
+seemed a wail, and lights-out a sob.</p>
+
+<p>The restless quiet of a great military camp
+comes at last. A nest of sleeping souls, it
+heaves with sound. The sentinels look like
+stalking ghosts.</p>
+
+<p>After midnight the dreaming sleepers are
+disturbed by the clank of the sabre of the
+orderly, seeking the headquarters of regiments
+to deliver an important order. Be
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span>quick! Light the candle stuck in the bayonet
+shank at the head of the ground bed
+where lies the regimental commander.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! Here is a Christmas gift with a
+vengeance! Read!</p>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p>“You will place your command in readiness
+to march at daylight. Move very light—three
+days’ rations in haversacks and two
+days’ in wagons. Forty rounds of ammunition
+on each man, with all the reserve ammunition
+in wagons. Take no tents and no
+baggage.”</p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<p>A battle order! Up and be stirring, for
+there is much to be done before daylight.
+Sleepers are aroused, their dreams of home
+and its festivities rudely disturbed, tents are
+struck and rolled, and, with the baggage and
+surplus stores packed into wagons to be sent
+within the earth-works of Nashville.</p>
+
+<p>Reveille finds the Army of the Cumberland,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span>nearly fifty thousand strong, on the
+march to attack the Confederates under
+Bragg at Murfreesborough, thirty miles
+away. No holiday march this, I assure
+you. The enemy is alert. He harasses
+our front with artillery, attacks our flanks
+with infantry and harries our rear with
+cavalry. The elements seem in league with
+him, for snow, sleet and rain make heavy
+roads, at which men swear and in which
+wagons and artillery flounder and stall.</p>
+
+<p>Four days of skirmishing and hard marching,
+with four nights of unrest and chilly
+misery bring us to our objective—the enemy.
+He has selected his battle ground on the
+bank of Stone’s River, a swift stream, in
+places fordable.</p>
+
+<p>The night of December 30th we slept, or
+essayed to sleep, upon our arms, without
+fires. Never can I forget the dispirited and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span>woe-begone look of the men as, rising from
+the frozen ground, they shook themselves at
+daylight. The hoar-frost covered them, giving
+to the uniforms of blue a new color, resembling
+somewhat the grey of the foe. Is
+there fighting quality in this line of shivering
+men? Can the battle fire be kindled
+in these chilled frames? A cold breakfast
+from the haversacks, a tin cup of coffee to
+each man, a warming drill in the manual of
+arms and their appearance is changed for
+the better.</p>
+
+<p>The order comes! We are to cross
+Stone’s River at the lower ford and lead the
+attack upon the enemy’s right. Rosecrans
+will strike with his left.</p>
+
+<p>An inspection of the guns, a distribution
+of ammunition, filling both cartridge boxes
+and haversacks, some words of encouragement
+and cheer from the youthful commander,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span>and we move to the river bank, to
+find our crossing, by wading the cold stream,
+unopposed by the enemy. We form in line
+of battle upon the other side and are about
+to advance to the attack, when the sound of
+cannon, heard but faintly from our right a
+short time ago, becomes louder and more
+loud. A terrific battle is raging there and
+the movement of sound means our men are
+being driven. We are halted. There is stir
+and excitement among the division staff.
+We are ordered to recross the river and hasten
+to the support of the right wing.</p>
+
+<p>Bragg, actuated by the same motive as
+Rosecrans, conceiving the same plan, had
+attacked our right, but his fresh and sheltered
+troops struck their blow at an earlier
+hour. They doubled our line back upon
+itself. They took our straight bar of iron
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span>and bent it into a horse-shoe. Our right
+flank had become our rear.</p>
+
+<p>Defeat seemed imminent. On our hurried
+way, the 19th Ohio, leading Crittenden’s
+Division, met horses, teams and men in confusion
+most confounded. Rousseau, of Kentucky,
+riding bare-headed, cries to me,
+“What troops are these?” and to my answer
+says, with tearful entreaty in his voice, “For
+God’s sake! get quickly to the cedars on our
+right and stop this rout.” We hasten on.
+Rosecrans, pale with anguish of the thought
+that Garesche, bosom friend and Chief of
+Staff, had just been killed by his side, but
+determined of purpose and confident in bearing,
+says, “Men! you can save the day. Will
+you do it?” “Aye! Aye! sir; if mortal men
+can, we will!”</p>
+
+<p>We pass from the march by the flank into
+line under the direction of the Commanding
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span>General himself, my regiment forming the
+right of the front line.</p>
+
+<p>The grey coats, flushed with success that
+is so near victory, came gaily on. We wait
+until they are within easy range. It is a
+weary waiting and hard to endure. Our
+men are falling rapidly under the fire of the
+advancing foe. My favorite mare drops
+dead with a ball through her gentle heart.
+Adjutant Brewer, always alert and devoted
+replaces her with his good grey. Rising
+from the ground, with no great bodily harm,
+although I had been pitched headlong, I exclaim:
+“But, Adjutant, my glasses are
+broken into many bits and I see dimly.”
+“Never mind; I will see for you,” he quickly
+responds. And so he did. Gallant fellow!
+Brave heart! He gave his young life to his
+country and his parting benediction to me
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span>afterwards, in a desperate mêlée and fearful
+charge.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="i031" style="max-width: 40em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i031.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+      <p class="upper-case">Charge of General Van Cleve’s division in the cedars,
+at the battle of Stone’s River,
+under direction of General Rosecrans.</p>
+<p>The 19th Ohio Infantry forming the right of the front line. Photograph
+of a picture made during the war by Private Mathews,
+of the 31st Ohio Infantry.</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>At last the order to fire! From every
+musket leaps a missile of death. The Confederate
+line wavers! Strong young teeth
+tear the cartridges. We load and fire with
+energy. The grey line breaks! A charge is
+ordered by Rosecrans in person. They run!
+How inspiring! What exhilaration! With
+wild yells we rush on. We regain much of
+the ground lost in the early morning and
+hold it fast and firm.</p>
+
+<p>Again the nightfall, the last of the eventful
+year. What horrid din, of cannon and
+of watchful picket’s gun, to disturb and
+harass the weary unharmed, who seek to
+sleep. How cold and miserable the wounded
+in blue and grey who groan and moan between
+the lines, where succor cannot come.</p>
+
+<p>Morn at last! The new year has come.
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span>Both armies are so torn and shattered that
+the re-forming of lines and watchful rest is
+a necessity. The day passes in care for the
+wounded and hasty burial of the dead.</p>
+
+<p>Another night, and again the morning.
+Who will strike the blow? Rosecrans, tenacious
+of purpose, returns to his original
+plan. Again our division fords Stone’s
+River in front of the enemy’s right. The
+shortened line of each regiment tells the
+story of the slaughter of the 31st. We wait
+patiently the order to strike.</p>
+
+<p>The hours pass. Few in number, our division
+is a tempting bait to Bragg. General
+Breckenridge, with a column of many
+lines, advances upon us. With precision of
+movement they march across the open fields.
+The sight fascinates us! Splendid spectacle!
+They break the charm by opening fire
+and charging upon us with the shrill yell of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span>the South. With a crash the lines meet, to
+mingle a moment and break apart. Our reserve
+becomes our front line. We fight for
+minutes that seem hours, with bayonet and
+clubbed musket, with deep cursing and loud
+yells, with hot rage and bold defiance, that
+rarest of happenings in battle comes to us—a
+hand to hand fight between lines of infantry
+upon an open field. We are overwhelmed
+by numbers and flanked by the
+greater force. Thrice has our color bearer
+been felled to earth, and of all the color
+guard not one is unhurt.</p>
+
+<p>But the regimental flag does not touch
+the ground. Gallant Phil Reefy, Lieutenant
+of Company F, strong and stalwart, bears
+it aloft. Sullenly we retreat to the river
+bank, fighting as we retire. We reach the
+stream.</p>
+
+<p>What is that deafening roar? It is as
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span>though heaven and earth had come together.
+Fifty-two guns, massed by Mendenhall,
+Chief of Artillery, commanding the position
+we had just left, have opened with grape
+and canister at short range upon the but
+now exultant foe. What dreadful slaughter!
+Masses of men fall writhing as the missiles
+hurtle through the air. They turn and
+flee, for mortal men cannot withstand such
+storm.</p>
+
+<p>We pursue until darkness comes, capturing
+prisoners, guns and stores, and Reefy,
+proudly exultant, plants the flag of the
+19th Ohio upon two cannon captured in the
+tempestuous pursuit.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="i037" style="max-width: 40em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i037.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+      <p class="upper-case">Repulse of the attack of the column of General Breckenridge,
+being the closing scene of the
+battle of Stone’s River.</p>
+<p>Made from a picture drawn by Private Mathews, of the 31st Regiment,
+Ohio Infantry, during the war.</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+
+<p>No battle of the war shows the dash,
+pluck, bravery and endurance of the American
+soldier better than Stone’s River. The
+attack, so spirited and bold, upon the right
+wing, under McCook, in the gray dawn of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span>that winter morning, that forced it back until
+the exultant enemy was not only on our
+flank but in our rear! The speedy taking of
+new positions by the troops of the left wing,
+under Crittenden; their gallant and successful
+charge in the cedars that regained much
+of the ground so ruinously lost!</p>
+
+<p>The sturdy and immovable stand of the
+center, under Thomas, that resisted assaults
+most impetuous and broke the charging columns
+into disorganized fragments, as waves
+are broken on a rock-bound coast! The dash
+of the Southerners in attack, the steadiness
+of the Northerners in resistance, the impulsive
+ardor of the one, the deliberate repose
+of the other; both so characteristic! The
+bold front, the confident daring, the personal
+exposure, the actual leadership, and the unconquerable
+spirit of Rosecrans, that
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span>“plucked victory from defeat and glory from
+disaster!”</p>
+
+<p>All this, any of this, was worth the sacrifice
+of life itself to see.</p>
+
+<p>It stands in history as a bright page. The
+dreadful figures of loss tell the story of how
+terribly sanguinary were the engagements
+when Americans fought each other. Of 44,000
+Federals, 12,000, and of 38,000 Confederates,
+10,000 were killed and wounded—over
+twenty-five per cent. Recall the fact
+that at Waterloo, Wellington lost less than
+twelve, and at Marengo and Austerlitz, Napoleon
+lost less than fifteen per cent.</p>
+
+<p>At daylight the next morning, after the
+battle, my line was formed. Shorn was it of
+half its length, for forty per cent. had fallen.
+Three officers were killed and three wounded.
+Company B, with more of its own dead
+to bury than there were unhurt survivors to
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span>do them honor. Ah! the familiar faces gone
+from us. We who were left looked upon each
+other with feelings unknown before. We felt
+a kinship stronger than brotherhood, as
+though we were parts of one body.</p>
+
+<p>We heard read, with infinite satisfaction,
+of the glory of our achievements, the congratulations
+of the General and the thanks
+of President Lincoln. We shook hands with
+each other that we had been specially mentioned
+in the reports, and took satisfactory
+delight that the commander of the 79th Indiana
+had officially reported that the good
+behavior of his command might be attributed
+to the splendid conduct of the 19th Ohio,
+and to the effect of our example.</p>
+
+<p>We were heroes all, and were proudly conscious
+of the fact.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="SCENE_II">
+    SCENE II.
+    <br>
+    THE PRESENTATION.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">The</span> restful weeks following the great battle
+go slowly by. The ranks of the regiment
+fill up from the return of the slightly
+wounded and the detached. The white tents
+about Murfreesborough, placed in regular
+rows, form a new city of vast extent. Camp
+duties, drills, inspection, review, guard
+mounting and dress parade fill the busy
+hours. The fighting giant is in training for
+the summer campaign of Tullahoma and the
+advance into Georgia.</p>
+
+<p>I recall the afternoon of a perfect day in
+the early spring time. Parade over and dismissed,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span>by some preconcerted signal, to me
+unknown, the first sergeants do not march
+the men to quarters, but go to their positions
+and company commanders take their places
+in line. “Attention! Battalion!” shouts
+Major Stratton, assuming the command. I
+look on somewhat amazed at this sudden devotion
+to a drill not down in the camp orders.</p>
+
+<p>The battalion forms square. I am invited
+to it, and with speech all too complimentary
+and feeling reference to the great
+battle, its losses and its gains, am presented
+with the beautiful weapons you here admire.</p>
+
+<p>The surprise is only excelled by my delight
+with the gift. They shall be worn with
+pride, they shall be used in honor.</p>
+
+<p>I cherish them for the sake of the givers,
+and practice to know how and to become
+worthy to use them. They stand me in good
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span>stead very often, and familiarity with them
+does not breed contempt of their power.</p>
+
+<p>Months go by. The Tullahoma campaign
+has been fought to a finish. On ostensible
+recruiting service, but really for participation
+in the momentous Brough-Vallandigham
+campaign in Ohio, the opportunity is
+afforded me to go home for a brief season.
+I avail myself of it, and take proudly home
+to show to friends the gift of comrades beloved.</p>
+
+<p>The duty in the north performed, I turn
+south to rejoin the command. The military
+situation is most interesting. Like the
+sharp end of a lance, the western army has
+pierced into the very vitals of the Confederacy.
+Rosecrans has won his objective,
+Chattanooga; paying therefor the bloody
+penalty of Chickamauga, but is practically
+besieged by an enemy whose camp fires light
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span>the many miles of horizon, from where the
+crouching lion of lofty Lookout Mountain,
+with extended paws, touches the Tennessee,
+around the semi-circle of frowning ridges to
+where the strongly intrenched line again
+touches the deep flowing river at Tunnel
+Hill. He is relieved from command by the
+powers that be, and Thomas, the reliable, the
+Rock of Chickamauga, beloved of all men,
+takes his place as chief. He declares his intention
+to hold his great strategic position
+“until we starve,” and unless help comes,
+starvation seems probable.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="i063" style="max-width: 24em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i063.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+      <p class="upper-case">General George H. Thomas</p>
+<p>“The Rock of Chickamauga.”</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Hooker is on his way from the east with
+two corps of veterans of the Potomac, and
+Sherman marches to us with the victorious
+columns, flushed with the capture of Vicksburg,
+from the banks of the Mississippi.
+The great Captain, with the fame of Fort
+Donelson and Shiloh, comes also, to assume
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span>supreme command. Grant! Sherman!
+Thomas! Behold the triumvirate! Truly,
+the great game of war is now to be played by
+experts. I hasten to take place as one of the
+pawns.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="SCENE_III">
+    SCENE III.
+    <br>
+    THE CAPTURE.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Where</span> the fight was the fiercest at Stone’s
+River, Captain Keel, of ours, in gallant leadership
+of his company, was shot in the
+elbow of his right arm. Surgical skill had
+prevented amputation and obtained exsection,
+resulting in a cartilaginous elbow and
+sorely crippled hand. Thus maimed, he
+came to me at Nashville and declared his
+intention of reporting for duty. Condemning
+his judgment, but admiring his pluck, I
+said, “All right, Captain, we will take the
+first train for the front.”</p>
+
+<p>We reached Stevenson, Alabama, the end
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span>of our ride over rough and worn pieces of
+iron, dignified by the name of railroad.
+From there a mountain wagon road formed
+the connection with the army at Chattanooga.
+Its course could be traced by the
+fragments of broken wagons, abandoned
+stores, and by the carcasses of the poor
+mules, strangled in the mud of it. Trains
+laden with ammunition, food and forage
+started daily from Stevenson. The time of
+their arrival, at the end of the pontoon
+bridge across from Chattanooga was an unknown
+quantity. It was at least two and
+more frequently four days.</p>
+
+<p>My anxiety to reach the regiment was intense.
+Upon inquiry I heard of a bridle path
+leading over the mountain and along the
+bank of the river. By starting early and
+riding hard, one might get through in a day,
+but it was the path of danger. The guns of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span>the Confederates commanded this road, and
+some of our men had been killed, others
+wounded and captured, who tried it. I determined
+to make the effort. The Colonel
+commanding the post, in response to my
+earnest appeal, loaned me two horses and an
+orderly, and we started at the first peep
+of day.</p>
+
+<p>Keel, too greatly disabled to ride a horse,
+was to go by the wagon road, taking the
+baggage of both. He evinced no reluctance
+when he found that as companions in the
+same wagon he was to have two estimable
+women of the Christian Commission, who,
+with supplies for the sick and wounded, were
+bound to Chattanooga upon their heaven inspired
+mission.</p>
+
+<p>Realizing that my route was hazardous,
+I put on my oldest uniform, stripped myself
+of all valuables, packing them carefully in
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span>the trunk that contained all of my earthly
+possessions. Determined that my beloved
+pistols should not fall into the hands of the
+enemy, I lodged them securely in my trunk,
+taking in their stead a pair of common holster
+revolvers.</p>
+
+<p>The orderly and I rode through without
+mishap, receiving no shot and seeing but
+few of the enemy. Arrived at regimental
+headquarters, I found all well, and received
+a welcome home that thrilled me. I waited,
+somewhat impatiently, for the disabled Captain
+to arrive with the baggage so greatly
+needed.</p>
+
+<p>The days passed away and gave no sign of
+him until the fifth after my arrival, when a
+sorry figure rode to the front of my tent.
+Seated upon a mule that had upon him parts
+of wagon harness, was the Captain, a woful
+figure, with rueful countenance. Don
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span>Quixote appeared not so disconsolate even
+after his battle with the knights of the
+windmill. We would have laughed aloud at
+his sorry plight had his aspect not been so
+serious. “For God’s sake, food and drink!”
+he cried. Being properly refreshed, he told
+his tale of woe. The train of wagons was
+proceeding slowly along the weary road,
+when sharp firing at its front evidenced an
+attack. Wheeler’s cavalry had crossed the
+river and was on one of the raids in our
+rear that made the name of General Joe
+Wheeler one with which to scare teamsters
+and worry commanders.</p>
+
+<p>The Captain was a man of proper gallantry,
+a fitting squire of dames, but, withal, not
+lacking in judicious discretion. The Confederate
+troopers certainly would not molest
+the women, bent upon their righteous mission,
+but to him captivity meant worse than
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span>death. Making hasty excuses, in unceremonious
+fashion, he jumped from the wagon,
+pulled a colored teamster off of a mule that
+he had just cut out of the traces of a wagon,
+mounted and took quickly to the woods on
+the side of the mountain. As he plunged
+deeper into the thicket, he saw in the valley
+the light of burning wagons, and heard
+the terrific explosions of ammunition with
+which many of them were loaded. After
+days and nights of distress he at last found
+his way to our camps.</p>
+
+<p>A day or two after, hearing that the female
+companions of the good captain had
+reached our lines, I called upon them in the
+town and heard the rest of the story. Wheeler’s
+rough riders had treated them with
+courteous consideration and did not molest
+their trunks when told that they contained
+only woman’s apparel. Keel’s baggage and
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span>my own was evidently rich booty. The new
+uniforms were seized with delight, and my
+precious seven-shooters appropriated with
+exclamations of joy and admiration. Taking
+what was wanted, the residue was thrown
+back on the wagons, that had been run and
+piled together, and made food for the flames.
+The train was but partly consumed when
+our cavalry appeared upon the scene and a
+sharp fight ensued, with the result that the
+women were released from their unpleasant
+situation.</p>
+
+<p>While the beleaguered army in Chattanooga,
+foregoing, if not forgetting, the pangs
+of hunger, echoed the language of Thomas
+in his telegram to Grant, “We will hold this
+place until we starve,” it was with right good
+will that it marched out in front of its works
+on an eventful November morning, being
+ordered to make a “demonstration” and relieve
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span>the pressure on Sherman in his effort
+to take Tunnel Hill, the right flank of the
+semi-circular natural defense of the enemy,
+composed of Missionary Ridge, with its crest
+from five hundred to eight hundred feet
+above us, around to Lookout on the left with
+its proud head over two thousand feet above
+the town. It was a crescent, with defensive
+works erected with engineering skill, bristling
+with guns and reflecting threatening
+lights as the sun played upon the musket
+barrels and bayonets in the hands of skilled
+and brave defenders. It looked like the
+curve of the cutting edge of a huge scimitar.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="i057" style="max-width: 30em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i057.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+      <p class="upper-case">Map of the battlefield of Chattanooga showing
+the position of the Confederate Army
+at Lookout Mountain and
+Mission Ridge.</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>A feeling of amity, almost of fraternization,
+had existed between the picket lines in
+front of Wood’s division for many days. In
+the early morning of that day, being in
+charge of the left of our picket line, I received
+a turn-out and salute from the Confederate
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span>reserve as I rode the line. But the
+friendly relation was soon to be rudely disturbed.
+My pickets, composed of the 19th
+Ohio and the 9th Kentucky, became the
+line of skirmishers. Our troops being well
+out of their works, we advanced with our
+left resting on Citico Creek, and I believe
+that from these regiments came the first
+shots in that glorious advance that resulted
+in the taking of Orchard Knob, the
+key of the enemy’s position.</p>
+
+<p>With impatient joy they witnessed the
+stars and stripes on Lookout’s crest, and
+heard the guns of Hooker on the enemy’s
+left. The evidences of the hard fighting by
+Sherman and the stubborn resistance
+Bragg’s right was giving him were borne on
+every wind. The flanking assaults upon
+the Ridge were not achieving success. There
+must be another “demonstration” by the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span>center. Grant stands on Orchard Knob,
+silently smoking the inevitable cigar. He
+sees the heavy work to the right and left and
+that the waning day is showing its lengthening
+shadows. The center must again relieve
+the pressure. To Thomas goes the
+order: “Take the rifle-pits at the foot of the
+ridge. At the six-gun signal from Orchard
+Knob, advance the lines to the attack.”
+Baird, Wood, Sheridan and Johnson were
+quickly in the order named from left to
+right.</p>
+
+<p>Restlessly they await the signal. It is
+well on to four o’clock. At last the sharp
+report of a cannon from the Knob! Another!
+and another! and in quick succession
+the six have thundered forth the order for
+the charge.</p>
+
+<p>To your feet and forward, men of the
+Cumberland! “Take the rifle-pits at the
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span>foot of the ridge,” is the order. How splendidly
+they respond. Adding emphasis to
+their loud huzzas is the noise of the light
+artillery on the plain and the deep roar of
+the big siege guns in the forts of Chattanooga.
+The crest of the ridge throws its
+full weight of metal at the lines of blue.
+The musketry fire from the pits is full in
+their faces. But neither shot nor shell can
+stop the impetuous advance. On and on
+they go, surmounting every obstacle.</p>
+
+<p>The order is obeyed.</p>
+
+<p>The rifle-pits are ours and their late defenders
+our prisoners. How the grey jackets
+hasten to the rear. We wonder at their
+haste, but soon understood it when the guns
+of the ridge, depressed to sweep the pits,
+seemed to open the gates of hell itself upon
+us.</p>
+
+<p>We cannot stay. Must we fall back? Perish
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span>the thought. No! No! No order
+given, and yet to every man the impulse.
+Forward the whole line! To the crest of the
+ridge and take the guns! Every man forward!</p>
+
+<p>Grape and canister from fifty cannon forbid
+the advance. Wood, Sheridan, Baird,
+Johnson, Willich, Hazen, Beatty, Carlin,
+Turchin, Vanderveer, catching the spirit
+from the men, shout, “Up, boys! To the
+top!” and grape and canister, wounds and
+death are forgotten.</p>
+
+<p>On and on and up and up we go, “while
+all the world wondered.” Grant turns to
+Thomas, and, with distress if not anger in
+his voice, says, “Who ordered those men up
+the ridge?” Replies our old hero, “I don’t
+know, I did not.” Says Grant, “Granger,
+did you?” “No,” says Granger, “they
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span>started without orders. When those fellows
+get started, all hell can’t stop them.”</p>
+
+<p>With hearts in their throats these anxious
+chieftains watch. The spectators in Chattanooga
+hold their breath in terrible suspense.
+It looks a desperate venture, a foolhardy
+effort. Can they make the top, or
+will they be driven back to the plain, with
+columns broken and ranks disordered?</p>
+
+<p>The musketry fire from the intrenched
+line in grey is murderous. The cannon
+belch forth incessantly.</p>
+
+<p>“It is as though men fought upon the
+earth and fiends in the upper air.”</p>
+
+<p>Not a shot from the wedge-shaped lines in
+blue as they advance with the colors of regiments
+at the apex of the triangles. Sixty
+regiments in rivalry for the lead! Colors
+fall as their bearers sink in death, but other
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span>stout arms nerved by brave hearts bear the
+flag aloft.</p>
+
+<p>Ah! the lines waver! they cannot make
+it! But repulse means defeat and loss of
+all we have gained.</p>
+
+<p>Look! again they go forward! Will they
+reach the crest? See! the answer! A flag!
+the nation’s flag! Our flag upon the top!
+Another, and yet another! The crest breaks
+out in glory! It is the apotheosis of the
+banner of the free!</p>
+
+<p>The rebel lines are broken! We are into
+their works! Cheer upon cheer “set the
+wild echoes flying” from Tunnel Hill to
+Lookout! They tell of victory! glorious,
+exultant victory.</p>
+
+<p>Forty pieces of cannon and 7,000 stand of
+arms with 6,000 prisoners captured give
+emphasis to the story.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="i067" style="max-width: 30em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i067.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+      <p class="upper-case">General George H. Thomas and staff after the
+battle of Mission Ridge.</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span></p>
+
+<p>The bars are down for entrance next campaign
+to Atlanta, gate city of the South.</p>
+
+<p>I went through the starvation siege of
+Chattanooga, the battles of Orchard Knob
+and Mission Ridge, and the winter march
+to relieve Burnside, who was penned up in
+Knoxville, in very uncomfortable plight,
+depending upon my brother officers for the
+clothing to keep me warm, but that which
+caused me the most distress was the loss, as
+I naturally supposed, forever, of the twin
+revolvers that rest now so peacefully before
+us, reminders of a time of great happenings
+by the side of which all else in life seems of
+trifling importance.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="SCENE_IV">
+    SCENE IV.
+    <br>
+    THE REUNION.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="i079" style="max-width: 20em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i079.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+      <p class="upper-case">“Upon the wall hung the good sword, with
+the dent in its scabbard.”</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Twenty</span> years passed away, with their
+changes for good and for ill. The great
+war seemed like a dream, and its events were
+dim and shadowy. But there remained to
+me some substantial evidence of its reality.
+Upon the wall hung the good sword, with
+the dent in its scabbard telling of the death
+struggle of the brave black mare, whose
+name should be on Stone River’s roll of
+honor. In the corner stood the regimental
+flag, presented by my comrades when we
+parted in 1865, the deep scar upon its staff
+matching the deeper scar upon the manly
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span>breast of its bearer “in the brave days of
+old.” I looked at them and longed for the
+twin seven-shooters that should keep them
+company.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="i071" style="max-width: 22em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i071.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+      <p class="upper-case">“In the corner stood the regimental flag
+presented by my comrades when we
+parted in 1865. The deep
+scar upon its staff
+matched the deeper scar
+upon the manly breast of
+its bearer in the brave
+days of old.”</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>Representing my adopted State, Nebraska,
+in the Senate, I had reached a position
+that had at least given my name notoriety.
+It chanced that the Major of an Iowa cavalry
+regiment saw it in the public prints and
+was prompted to write me. “Are you,” said
+he, “the man who commanded the 19th
+Ohio during the war? If so, I have a pistol
+that must belong to you, for the fact of its
+presentation is engraved upon it.” I am
+quick to respond, and in brief time there
+came the pistol, as welcome to my hand and
+heart as an old-time friend.</p>
+
+<p>He wrote me its history. During the
+days of the period of reconstruction he was
+on duty in Alabama, and upon the person of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span>a man whom he arrested was found the revolver.
+The Major took it from him and
+had held it since, hoping that some time he
+might meet the owner. Hearty thanks went
+to him, and I longed all the more for its
+mate, somewhere existing, but probably
+never to be recovered by me.</p>
+
+<p>Twenty-eight years elapse after the cavalry
+raid in the Sequatchie Valley. The
+Congress is in session and a dreary debate
+drags its weary length through the hours.
+My yawning presence in the Senate Chamber
+would only add emphasis to the dullness
+there, and I go to the Committee Room, to
+engage in the usual employment of a Congressman’s
+spare hours, the dictation of replies
+to the endless letters, from every direction,
+on every conceivable subject. There
+comes a messenger, and this his message:
+“The compliments of Senator Pugh of Alabama,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span>who requests the pleasure of seeing
+you in the Marble Room.” I respond
+quickly to the call, and go to the room of
+simplicity and beauty that is one of the chief
+attractions under the great white dome.
+Near at hand are three men, two of them
+well known by me, the third a stranger.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp60" id="i048" style="max-width: 24em;">
+  <img class="w100" src="images/i048.jpg" alt="">
+  <figcaption>
+      <p class="upper-case">General Joseph Wheeler</p>
+<p>“The Marshal Ney of the Confederacy.”</p>
+  </figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>I hasten to greet my colleague, and then
+shake hands with warmth of greeting with
+a gentleman I have grown to respect and
+like. It is General Wheeler, once a dashing
+cavalry leader of Confederates, he who
+harried our rear so persistently and pronouncedly;
+reconstructed into a leader in
+forensic debate, an authority on parliamentary
+law, and an all-around legislator,
+whose trenchant pen was surely as mighty
+as his vigorous sword. Cuba and the Philippines
+are the scenes of his later triumphs,
+and there is no name upon the Army Roll
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>more honored now for patriotic devotion
+and soldierly ability than that of him who,
+during the dark days of the civil strife, was
+the Marshal Ney of the Confederacy.</p>
+
+<p>I am introduced by the courtly Senator
+Pugh to his esteemed constituent, ex-Confederate
+Colonel Reeves, of Alabama. I
+greet him with pleasure, for he bears upon
+him those evidences that command respect.
+Both appearance and speech declare the
+Southerner, and the soft broad accents fall
+pleasingly upon the ear. He said, “I think,
+sir, I have something that once belonged to
+you, and will give it to you with pleasure,
+for I presume from the inscription upon it
+you will prize it highly.”</p>
+
+<p>He produces the long-lost revolver and
+tells its story. He bought it and its companion
+from one of General Wheeler’s troopers,
+who said he captured it at the battle of
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span>Mission Ridge. I mildly suggest that at
+Mission Ridge the captures were on the
+other side. He smiled acquiescence and
+said he cared little at the time of purchase
+from whence they came, so that they might
+be his. He had carried them through the
+war until a fearful wound had disabled
+him from further field duty.</p>
+
+<p>After the war he had loaned one to the
+sheriff of his county and from him it had
+been captured by some of our troops. I
+told him of the return of that one to me eight
+years before. We exchange reminiscences
+of the great struggle. We compare experiences.
+Enemies in war, we are in peace
+friends.</p>
+
+<p>Handling his revolver with easy grace and
+caressing gesture, he makes it mine again,
+saying as he passes it to me, with pardonable
+reluctance, “I tell you, sir, that is a
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span>mighty close shooting pistol.” I cordially
+agree to that sentiment, and we both dwell
+in thought upon the career of these messengers
+of death that have fought beneath two
+flags, giving loyal support to their masters,
+who have fought each one loyally for his
+own.</p>
+
+<p>And thus finding each other, after a quarter
+of a century of separation, they came
+back to me, to be cherished fondly and I
+hope never again to be used.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span></p>
+
+
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="EPILOGUE">
+    EPILOGUE.
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p><span class="smcap">And</span> so my friend, you have the truthful
+story. It is not one to excite special wonder,
+but causes, I take it, emotions of pleasure
+and thankfulness.</p>
+
+<p>As the pistols have come peacefully together,
+so have north and south united in
+fraternity and in devotion to one flag and
+a common country. The war taught mutual
+respect, and never again can there come
+between these sections the hatred, based
+upon mutual misunderstandings, that led to
+the attempt at dismemberment. The men
+who did the fighting during those four years
+of bloody war can have no sympathy with
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span>the incendiaries who would array section
+against section upon any subject. Their
+motto is bear and forbear. The disposition
+to fraternize was strong among them even
+during the strife, and with them now is the
+brotherhood that is the inevitable incident
+of unity of national purpose and a patriotic
+desire for one destiny.</p>
+
+<p>Long ago, while condemning the false
+teaching that led to the belief that allegiance
+was to the State, we appreciated how
+deep abiding was the honest conviction of
+those who, taught in a different school from
+us, made untold sacrifice for the cause they
+espoused.</p>
+
+<p>Forgetting nothing of the past—the cruel
+blow at nationality, the unhallowed attack
+upon the flag, with all the sad results of
+weeping and wounds, of desolation and
+death—we have forgiven everything.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span></p>
+
+<p>Full citizenship, with all of honor, of
+governing power, and controlling rights that
+the term imports, has been accorded to all
+who participated or lent aid and comfort
+to the enemies of the Union.</p>
+
+<p>As the victors and the vanquished have
+recognized equal courage and even powers
+of endurance, there has come mutual respect.
+Through the throes and labor of
+reconstruction, with the contact of peoples,
+the interchange of commerce, the common
+interests of the different parts of the national
+whole, the dovetailing of States
+through the construction of the iron highways
+of trade, and mutual contribution of
+the capital needed for the development of
+the new South has come peaceful, contented
+reconciliation. The years that gather wisdom
+and experience to all long ago taught
+the lesson even to those who fought for it,
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span>that the cause for which they struggled and
+suffered was better lost than won.</p>
+
+<p>Hail the epoch of concord! All hail, the
+era of fraternity!</p>
+
+<p>Let us close the lid of the mahogany box,
+believing that the pair snugly ensconced
+within it shall never serve save as polished
+reminders of other days.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+  <div class="transnote" id="TRANSCRIBERS_NOTES">
+  <p class="ph2">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</p>
+
+
+<p>Extraneous quotation mark on <a href="#Page_11">page 11</a> removed.</p>
+
+<p>Corrected typo in illustration caption “battlelield” to “<a href="#i057">battlefield</a>”.</p>
+
+<p>Normalized punctuation in illustration caption “<a href="#i031">CHARGE OF GENERAL....</a>”</p>
+
+<p>Positions of illustrations re-arranged to support the main text.</p>
+</div>
+</div>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77379 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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