attacks become real, and keeping commander and troops in a state of anxious tension. These truisms would not deserve mention did not the public mind ignore the fact that their application is strictly limited to trained soldiers, and often become impatient for the employment of proved ability to sustain sieges and hold lines in offensive movements. A collection of untrained men is neither more nor less than a mob in which individual courage goes for nothing. In movement, each person finds his liberty of action merged in a crowd without instruction and incapable of direction. Every obstacle creates confusion-speedily converted into panic-by opposition. The heroic defenders of Saragossa could not, for a moment, have faced a battalion of French infantry in the open field.

Osman's solitary attempt to operate outside of Plevna met with no success, and the recent defeat of Mukhtar may be ascribed to incaution in taking position too far from his line of defense, where attacked, manœuvres, of which his people were incapable, became necessary. After the action at Manassas, the summer and winter wore away without movements of special note in our quarter, excepting the defeat of the Federals at Ball's Bluff, by a detached brigade of Confederates, under the command of General Evans, of South Carolina-a West-Pointer enjoying the sobriquet of "Shanks," from the thinness of his legs. -and the original reconniassance of the Federal General Schenck, on the line and in the carriages of the Hampshire & Loudon Railway. In the organization of the army my regiment was brigaded with the Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth Regiments of Louisiana Infantry, and placed under the command of Brigadier W. H. T. Walker, of Georgia. Graduated from West Point in the summer of 1837, this officer joined the Sixth Regiment of United States Infantry operating against the Seminoles in Florida. On Christmas-day following was fought the battle of Okechobee, the severest fight of that Indian war. The savages were posted on a thickly-jungled island in the lake-through the waters of which, breast-high, the troops advanced several hundred yards to the attack. The loss on our side was heavy, but the Indians were so completely routed as to break their spirit. Colonel Zachary Taylor commanded, and there won his yellow sash and grade. Walker was so desperately wounded that the

medical people gave him up. He laughed at their predictions, and recovered. In the Mexican War, assaulting Molino del Rey, he received several wounds, all pronounced fatal, and science thought it was avenged. He got well again, as he said, to spite the doctors. All his life he was a martyr to asthma, and rarely enjoyed sleep but in a sitting posture; yet he was as cheerful and full of restless activity as the celebrated Earl of Peterborough. After the peace with Mexico, Walker was commandant of cadets at West Point. His ability as an instructor and his lofty martial bearing deeply impressed his new brigade, and prepared it for the stern work before it. Subsequently, Walker died on the field near Atlanta, defending the soil of his native state-a death of all others he would have chosen. I have dwelt somewhat on his character because it was one of the strangest I have met. No enterprise was too rash to awaken his ardor if it necessitated daring courage and self-devotion. Truly he might have come forth out of the pages of old Froissart. It is with unaffected feeling I recall his memory, and hang before it my humble wreath of "immortelles."

In camp our army experienced much suffering and loss of strength. Drawn almost exclusively from rural districts, where families lived isolated, the men were scourged with mumps, whooping-cough, and measles, diseases which in urban populations are readily overcome by childhood. Measles proved as virulent as small-pox or cholera. Sudden changes of temperature drove the eruption from the surface to the internal organs, and fevers-lung and typhoid-and dysenteries followed. My regiment was fearfully smitten, and I passed many days in hospital, nursing the sick, and trying to comfort the last moments of many poor lads, dying so far from home and friends. Time and frequent changes of camp brought improvement, but my own health gave way. A persistent, low fever sapped my strength, and impaired the use of my limbs. General Johnston kindly ordered me off to the Fauquier Springs-sulphur-waters -some twenty miles to the south. There I was joined and carefully nursed by a devoted sister, and, after some weeks, slowly regained health and strength. On the eve of returning to the army I learned of my promotion to brigadier, to relieve General Walker, transferred to the command of Georgia troops. This

promotion seriously embarrassed me. Of the four colonels, whose regiments constituted the brigade, I was the junior in commission, and the other three had been present and "won their spurs" at the late battle, so far the only important one of the war. Besides, my known friendship for President Davis, with whom, by his first marriage with my elder sister, I was nearly connected, would justify the opinion that my promotion was due to favoritism. Arrived at headquarters, I obtained leave to go to Richmond, where, after an affectionate reception, the President listened to the story of my feelings, the reasons on which they were based, and the request that the promotion be revoked. He replied that he would take a day for reflection before deciding the matter. The following day I was told the answer to my appeal would be forwarded to the army, to which I immediately returned. The President had employed the delay in writing a letter to the senior officers of the brigade. He began by stating that promotions to the grade of general officers were intrusted to him, and were made for considerations of publie good, of which he alone was judge. He then, out of abundant kindness for me, went on to soothe the feelings of these officers with a tenderness and delicacy of touch worthy a woman's hand, and so effectually as to secure me the hearty support of these patriots and soldiers, many of whom attained eminence in the war. No wonder that all who enjoy the friendship of Jefferson Davis love him as Jonathan did David. Several weeks, without notable incident, were devoted to instruction, especially in marching, the only military virtue for which Southern troops had no aptitude. Owing to the good traditions left by my predecessor in command, Walker, and the zeal of officers and men, great progress was made, and all the credit for the proficiency of the brigade was given me. In the army at this time was a battalion of three companies from Louisiana, commanded by Major Wheat. These detached companies had been thrown together previous to the fight at Manassas, where Wheat was severely wounded. The strongest of the three, and giving character to all, was called the "Tigers." Recruited on the levée and in the alleys of New Orleans, the men might have come out of "Alsatia," where they would have been worthy subjects of that illustrious potentate "Duke Hildebrod." The captain, who had suc

ceeded to the immediate command of these worthies on the advancement of Wheat, enjoying the luxury of many aliases, called himself "White," perhaps out of respect to the purity of the patriotic garb lately assumed. So villainous was the reputation achieved by the battalion that every commander desired to be rid of it. At last, General Johnston assigned it to me, despite my efforts to decline the honor of such society. He promised, however, that I should be sustained in any measures to enforce discipline, and but a few hours elapsed before the fulfillment of the promise was required. For some disorder after "tattoo," several of the "Tigers" were arrested, and placed under the "brigade-guard." Their comrades attempted to force the "guard' and release them. This attempt failed, and the two ringleaders were captured and put in irons for the night. Next morning an order for a general court-martial was obtained from army headquarters. The court met at 10 A. M. the same day. As there was no doubt of the facts, a finding was speedily reached-the prisoners to be shot-time fixed by brigade-commander. I selected sunset, and directed the "firing-party" to be detailed from the prisoners' company. Major Wheat and his officers begged to be spared this hard duty, fearing the "Tigers" would refuse to fire on their comrades. I insisted, for the sake of the example, and pointed out the fatal consequences of any disobedience on the part of their men. The brigade, under arms, was marched out, and, as the news had spread, many thousands from other commands flocked to witness the scene. The firing-party, ten "Tigers," was drawn up fifteen paces from the prisoners, the brigade-provost gave the command to fire, and the unhappy men fell dead without a struggle. This account is given, because it was the first military execution in the "Army of Northern Virginia," and the punishment, so closely following the offense, produced a marked effect. The "Tigers" gave no further trouble, and proved hardy, excellent soldiers.

Major Robert Wheat deserves a more extended notice, and to furnish it some anticipation of events is necessary. In the early summer of 1846-after the first actions of the war with Mexico, Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma-the United States army, under General Zachary Taylor, lay near the town of Matamoras. Visiting the hospital of a recently joined vol

unteer corps from the States, I remarked a beautiful, brighteyed boy of some eighteen years, down with disease, but cheery withal. The interest he inspired led to his removal to army headquarters, where he soon recovered health and became a pet. This was Robert Wheat, son of an Episcopal clergyman, from the old town of Alexandria, on the Potomac, who had run away from school to come to the war. He next went to Cuba with Lopez, was wounded and captured, but escaped the garrote to follow Walker to Nicaragua. Exhausting the capacities of South American patriots to pronounce, he quitted their society in disgust, and joined Garibaldi in Italy, whence his keen scent of combat summoned him home in convenient time to receive a bullet at Manassas. The most complete "Dugald Dalgetty" possible, he had all the "defects of the good qualities" of that doughty warrior. Some months after the time of which I am now writing, a body of horse was captured in the Valley of Virginia. The colonel commanding, who had been dismounted in the fray, approached me-a stalwart man, with huge mustaches, cavalry - boots adorned with spurs worthy of a caballero, slouched hat, and plume. He strode along with the nonchalant air of one who had wooed Dame Fortune too long to be cast down by her frowns. Suddenly, Major Wheat, near by, sprang from his horse with a cry of "Percy! old boy!" "Why, Bob?" was echoed back, and a warm embrace was exchanged. Colonel Percy Windham, an Englishman in the Federal service, had last parted from Wheat in Italy, or some other country where the pleasant business of "killing" was going on, and now fraternized with his friend in the manner described. Poor Wheat! A month later, and he slept his last sleep on the bloody field of Cold Harbor. He lies there in a soldier's grave. Gallant spirit! Let us hope that his readiness to die for his cause has made "the scarlet of his sins like unto wool."

As the autumn of the year (1861) passed away, the question of army organization pressed for solution. Divergent opinions were held by the Government at Richmond and Generals Johnston and Beauregard. The former sent me to President Davis to explain his views and urge their adoption. My mission met with no success; but, in discharging it, I was made aware of the estrangement growing up between these eminent persons, which