They rarely reach the highest distinction, while those of the more thoughtful and more steadfast kind are content to do their duty from time to time according to their best judgment and leave the rest to their record and to those in authority over them. In the long run the latter class prevail. The man who knows when to use his brains instead of his sword, when to put his command in and follow its movements with a watchful eye, and when to place himself at the post of danger, resolved to win or lose it all by his personal leadership, is a far more useful officer than the reckless and thoughtless man who undertakes to do all the fighting himself. This is just as true in our great war as in the other great wars of history. While it is sometimes hard for a subordinate to follow a campaign or a battle closely enough to know just what the next movement should be, it is still harder to judge correctly when to throw prudence, which is often a "rascally virtue," to the wind and stake all on personal courage and leadership. But the really good officer, when the time comes, takes the risk, far too frequently with a fatal result, though in the long run he and his kind win out and achieve real glory.

XVII

GRANT'S ADVANCE TO THE JAMES

Operations on Pamunkey and North Anna-Fights at Hanover Court House-Ashland and South Anna-Totopotomoy-Haw's shop-Behind Lee's left-Captain Ulffers-Prepared rations-Sheridan detached-Defeated by Hampton-Cold Harbor-Upton's comments.

During Grant's movement to the left along the north bank of the Pamunkey on the last days of May, 1864, I followed close behind his rear guard, picking up stragglers from the Ninth Corps and an occasional deserter from Lee's forces. From one of the latter I learned that Lee had begun his retrograde movement to Ashland Station almost immediately after my night attack against his left flank, and this information I deemed important enough to send to General Grant, as it indicated that Lee's new position would be twelve or fourteen miles south of Chesterfield, a few miles beyond the South Anna, behind which he would be free to move in any direction. It also made it certain that we were in but little danger of an offensive return. The march was therefore in the nature of rest and recreation. While it was under way I overtook my classmate, Captain Andrews, of the Eighth Infantry, who since the death of Sedgwick, on whose staff he had

been serving as an aid-de-camp, was in command of his company on foot. His entire baggage was tied up in a bandanna handkerchief and carried on his sword over his shoulder. He was weary, footsore, and despondent, and as soon as he saw me asked seriously if I knew where he could get the mouth-piece of a key bugle or any other part of a brass musical instrument. This puzzling question at once aroused my curiosity as well as my interest. He was a veteran of imperturbable temper and approved courage who had taken an honorable part in all the eastern campaigns and in many of the most important battles. I knew, therefore, that there was something behind his singular inquiry, but as I could not imagine what it was, I answered at once: "No! Why do you ask?" And this brought the reply, without the glimmer of a smile:

“Oh, I merely want to be considered as belonging to the band, which, you know, remains behind the fighting line and carries off the wounded. This is the only berth in this army where a man's life is worth a cent. Nearly everybody I know has been killed or wounded, and if this campaign, with its senseless assaults of entrenched positions and its ceaseless tributes of blood and death, is to continue much longer, my turn is sure to come soon, and I want to avoid that if I can honorably do so. Like our classmate, Martin, commanding his regiment at the vortex of the battle at Peach Orchard, where he could hear the bullets breaking the bones of his men like icicles falling from the eaves on a sunny morning, 'I feel exactly as though every minute might be my next!'"

The captain's grim but impressive humor was

followed by the first comment I had heard upon the rude and costly methods and the incompetency of corps and division commanders in that army, and from the specifications which followed I became convinced that the courage and confidence of both officers and men were not only slipping away, but that unless better methods and greater successes could be assured, we might meet with an overwhelming disaster any day. The condition of affairs was a grave one and, unfortunately, there was no sign from any quarter that a change for the better might be expected. Lee and his decimated ranks still grimly barred our road to Richmond and, as it turned out, exacted greater and greater tributes of blood and treasure before yielding to the inevitable.

A few days later I asked for and obtained Andrews' detail to my staff as aid-de-camp. Beaumont and Noyes, from the same staff, had already joined and, I may add, remained with me to the end of the war. They were all West Pointers, young, gallant, and accomplished, and, while they had many close calls from captivity and death, they escaped serious injury and disablement, led long and useful lives, and finally retired as colonels of the regular army. They were well fitted for high command, but those were strenuous days, in which the highest merit did not always receive adequate recognition or reward.

The Pamunkey, formed by the North and South Anna Rivers, is an exceedingly crooked stream, with many bends, swamps and small tributaries. My route lay through Mangohick Church and Pounce's Swamp toward New Castle Ferry and Hanovertown, and I was especially required to remain be

hind, covering the trains and driving in the stragglers. Later I was directed to divide my command, sending one brigade south of the river for the purpose of occupying the line of Crump's Creek and to follow with the other as soon as everything in front had crossed the Pamunkey. This service was all safely accomplished by the last day of the month, when with my reunited division I was ordered to turn northwest up the river toward Hanover Court House. This speedily brought me in contact with the enemy's cavalry near Doctor Price's house, where a sharp and successful skirmish lasting till night took place.

Late on May 1 I was ordered to push out and destroy the railroad bridges northwest of Hanover Court House, to begin my march in that direction after dark, and to continue the work of destruction till it was all finished or till I was reënforced or withdrawn. This was a most important task. Four railroad bridges, two across the South Anna and two across Little River, were involved, and the primary object was to break the railroads north of Richmond connecting that place with the western part of the state through Gordonsville and Lynchburg. As this was an operation of the first importance which necessarily carried me in a circle around and toward Richmond, with the Pamunkey at my back, while our army was moving away from me to the southeast, it exposed me to the attack of the entire rebel cavalry, which, based on Richmond, had the short line against me from start to finish. The proper tactical use of the cavalry under the circumstances was to send the entire corps to assist in the work committed to me. This would have en