whose merits have won the admiration of all nations? I can also add that members of the Signal Corps, although only detailed men, were held in such esteem that to them were always extended the honors due to commissioned officers. Thrown, however, in daily intercourse with my brother survivors of the "Lost Cause," I cannot but recognize the fact that by many of those, who, with musket on shoulder or sabre by side, bore the heat and burden of many a hard fought battle, we are classed among those non-combatants, who, occupying what were termed "bomb-proof" positions, would now pose as veterans, and how can I better use the limited space of time allotted to me than by bringing to your attention certain facts that may tend to remove that erroneous impression?

The members of the Signal Corps, like those of all other commands, were assigned to duty at the various stations at which their services would be most valuable, some comparatively free from danger, while others were exposed and dangerous, that a term of service thereat, by any soldier, can be looked on as a certificate of bravery. You have passed a highly merited eulogy on our lamented Comrade Thomas Huguenin, whose highest honor is that he commanded at Fort Sumter, but let me call to your attention the fact that three members of the Signal Corps were constantly there on duty, sharing not only the dangers and trials of Huguenin, but also of Rhett, Elliott, Harleston, Mitchell and of all those other heroes who there did serve, and of whose records we, as brother soldiers, are so proud.

"FORT SUMTER STILL HOLDS OUT."

By their side the signal officer stood, and beneath crumbling wall and the midst of bursting shells, with flag in hand by day and torch by night, they sent to this seemingly doomed city the glad tidings: "Fort Sumpter still holds out." When you honor the memories of those heroes, who for their country, gave up their lives, forget not the brave boy Huger, who, upon her ramparts, shed his life blood, as nobly performing his duty to his country and as willingly giving his life to the cause as anyone of them all.

Are there any whom you hold in higher esteem than the officers and men of the navy? Do not forget the fact that two members of the Signal Corps, stationed on each iron-clad, stood ready at all times to share the dangers of the gallant Ingraham, Tucker and their men.

Again, on Morris Island we find the Signal Corps, and on them

devolved the duty of keeping that brave garrison in communication with the outer world. You who, like myself, experienced the dangers and trials of that siege, can indeed appreciate their services, and testify to the bravery and coolness with which the members of the Signal Corps there bore themselves in the midst of dangers that caused the bravest to tremble, standing nobly at their post, and only leaving the island with the rear guard, at the evacuation.

There were also members of the corps, who at other points, not so much exposed, did even more valuable service to our cause. I refer to those who day and night read the signals as they passed from station to station of the United States Army and Navy. To them we owe the preservation of Sumter, Johnson, Gregg and Wagner, on several occasions, those forts being forewarned of attacks to be made, and consequently prepared to resist the same. I have so

far spoken only of the services of the corps in the siege of this city, having been connected only with this and the Signal Corps of the Army of Tennessee, and I know that my time is limited, and there are but few of those present who were at any time connected with the latter army, but will add that to demonstrate that the members of the Signal Corps bore themselves with equal bravery on other fields, and did not occupy bomb-proof places. History tells us that when the beloved Stonewall Jackson fell a signal officer caught him in his arms and another bit the dust by his side.

THE DEFENCE OF MORRIS ISLAND.

I would submit for your con

Such, my comrades, are the facts. sideration, still, for fear they may be received by some as the statements of one interested, I shall trespass on your patience while I quote from the published accounts of the defence of Morris Island. The writer in describing the attempt to blow up the Ironsides uses the following words:

"The new Ironsides was singled for destruction. One of the Signal Corps had been stationed at Battery Gregg, and another at Wagner, each with keen eyes, watching their respective lines of vision. At the electric key stood Captain Langdon Cheves, with eyes bent upon both stations, so that as the flags waved in concert, indicating the fatal moment when the Ironsides should be over the torpedo, to apply the spark and do the deed. Slowly the Ironsides steamed around, delivering one terrific broadside after another. Ever

and anon the flag would wig-wag on Gregg, but Wagner was still; then that on Wagner, but Gregg's did not reply, and so it seemed that hours passed. At last both flags waved. The key was touched once and again. There was no answering explosion.'

Again in this report we find the following:

"Though non-combatants, none ran greater risks than the Signal Corps. Perched on the highest and most conspicuous spots of Battery Gregg, flag in hand, the cynosure of all eyes, both friend and foe, exposed to the fire of sharpshooters and artillery, often their special aim, in the thick as well as the surcease of the conflict, the wig-wag of their flags conveyed to the commandant at Charleston, the needs of the garrison, or received from him orders for defence. By their intelligent service, likewise the dispatches passing from fleet to shore were read, so that forewarned by them on several occasions, the Confederates were forearmed, and ready so as to repel, with little loss, assaults that would otherwise have been fatal."

Such is the tribute paid to the Signal Corps by a disinterested party, one whose record is such that his words of praise would be heard with feelings of pride by any veteran, however brave he may have shown himself on many a hard fought battlefield. Such we are proud to claim as our record, and submitting the same, is there one of you who will challenge our right to the grand title of "Veterans of the Lost Cause?"

[From the Richmond (Va.) Dispatch, April 25, 1897.]

BURNING OF RICHMOND.

Incidents of the City's Evacuation Described.

LAST TO CROSS MAYO'S BRIDGE.

Experiences of an Officer on the Retreat.

'SUNNY SIDE," ALBEMARLE Co., Va., April 6, 1897.

To the Editor of the Dispatch:

During part of the month of February and during March, 1865, the Second Battalion of Virginia Reserves (boys between sixteen and eighteen, and old men between forty-five and fifty, commanded by the undersigned) were stationed in the City of Richmond on guard duty, having been withdrawn from the lines nearly opposite Fort Harrison, about the 15th of February. On the afternoon of Saturday, the 1st of April, 1865, I went down on a small steamer to "Wilton," the home of my friend, Colonel W. C. Knight, and spent Sunday with him and his family. I expected to return to Richmond early Monday morning. During Sunday all was quiet on the north side of James river, but away to the south we could hear sounds that indicated a serious engagement. The Colonel and myself in the afternoon walked down nearly opposite Drewry's Bluff, when a steamer-the one I came down on Saturday-passed down, loaded, as we thought, with Federal prisoners. As it passed by rapidly, we heard from the boat that Richmond was to be evacuated, and that was the last trip the boat would make. As all was so very quiet in our neighborhood, we did not credit this report. About 10 o'clock P. M. Sunday I retired, and before I had fallen asleep the Colonel came to my door, knocked, and informed me that the lines on the north side were being evacuated; that all of his horses and wagons had been just then impressed, and were to be used in moving stores, etc. I was then about nine miles from the city, and my quarters were out in the neighborhood of what was formerly known. as Buchanan Spring, so there was nothing for me to do but walk about twelve miles. It was then 11 o'clock at night. I placed in my haversack a small piece of hambone and a loaf of bread, which

good Mrs. Knight gave me, little dreaming that I would get nothing. more to eat for more than three days.

ORDERS TO BURN.

Reaching my quarters in the city about 2 o'clock A. M. of the 3d, my adjutant, Linden Kent, a youth about eighteen (who afterwards. became a distinguished lawyer in Washington city, and died a few years since), showed me an order from General Ewell, directing all the tobacco warehouses, then full of tobacco, to be burned at a certain signal. He and Captain Herron, of Orange, the ranking officer in my absence (Captain W. T. Early, of Albemarle, and Major James Strange, of Fluvanna, then being absent, sick), had made all the arrangements necessary to carry this order into effect. I directed Captain Herron and Adjutant Kent, so soon as the signal was given, to fire these buildings, then pass over the river on Mayo's bridge and follow the army. Being dead tired, I threw myself down to rest, fell asleep, and did not waken until the arsenal exploded. This woke me up most effectually. I threw my blanket over my shoulder, sword and haversack on one side, and canteen, with a little brandy, on the other. I struck out for Mayo's bridge, some one or two miles distant. The streets were quiet and apparently deserted. When I reached Mayo's bridge the small bridge over the canal connecting the basin with the dock was on fire on one side, a burning canal-boat having drifted up against it.

LAST TO CROSS.

As I was passing over the bridge a few cavalry videttes passed me. I shall ever believe we were the last Confederates who crossed the bridge, for that had also been fired and was now in flames on one side. As I climbed the slope beyond the bridge, the rising sun was just beginning to peep over the eastern hills. I turned and looked back; the city of Richmond was in flames. From all the windows of the Gallego Mills tongues of flame were bursting out; dense clouds of smoke, sparks and flames were reaching skyward. Were I a painter, even now, after thirty-two years, I could paint the scene. The sight was awfully grand. I felt the end was nigh. After gazing on this sublime spectacle for a time, I trudged on in pursuit of my command. After proceeding about a mile, I met Mr. Davis, father of Dr. H. Wythe Davis, of your city, and brother-in-law of Colonel Knight, who lived nearly opposite Wilton. He was on horseback,