nursed back to health in the home of a Mrs. Austin, a poor widow, who was as kind hearted as she was loyal. Her son then 6 years old is now Hon. R. W. Austin, an able Republican member of Congress for the 2d district of Tennessee.

Although scarcely able for duty, Daniel Hamilton was anxious to be with his brother and came happy in the thought of meeting him. When he learned that he had been killed in battle and that the body was buried in South Carolina, the sudden look of despair that broke the poor boy down kindled anew the sorrow that filled my own breast when his brother fell. I took Daniel with me as an assistant to my orderly, Morton Black. They had been bosom friends from childhood and reared under the same influence.

But Morton had seen more service in the field and understood matters better. To illustrate this, the orderly told me one morning that we had no butter. I told him to go out and find some and to take Dan with him. After riding some distance through a pretty good country, Morton's practiced eye lighted upon a plantation house in a grove surrounded by green fields. He remarked, "This is where I think we can find butter." They both went galloping up to the gate and Morton called to dismount. Dan drew up his horse and said, "Morton, have you any money?—I haven't a cent!"

This became a great joke in the regiment, but cannot be fully appreciated by any one who never followed Sherman to the sea.

On approaching Raleigh the city was surrendered without opposition by the Mayor and a committee of citizens who came out to meet us. When General Kilpatrick entered the city at the head of his column all was quiet. But a squad of rebel outlaws led by a rebel lieutenant was engaged in robbing houses and cursing the "Damned Yankees."

When the column appeared, all mounted their horses and left in a hurry, but the lieutenant, who waited until Kilpatrick was within gun shot. He drew his pistol and fired six shots at the head of the column then mounted his horse and left with the others. A squad of horsemen was sent in pursuit and overhauled him. Kilpatrick ordered a rope, and he was hung to the nearest tree.

He died a vile marauder or a bold patriot, depending on who tells the story. But in either case—like a spectacular fool.

On April 15th., 1865, a terrible storm prevailed which raised the waters so that the streams became almost impassable. Our brigade received orders to halt. We built barricades and went into camp. Next day General Atkins received orders to press forward.

I now quote from Mrs. Cornelia Spencer, a Southern lady who was there at the time, published a history of the war in 1866.

"The bridge across New Hope river had been washed away but some stringers were left. General Hampton's cavalry occupied the other side. The Ninth

O. V. C., the leading regiment of General Atkins' brigade, crossed a hundred dismounted men over the river on the remaining stringers and were scarcely over when they were furiously charged by Hampton's cavalry. A heavy skirmish occurred in which several were killed on both sides."

General Atkins report of the affair was that the men of the 9th. Ohio crossed on the stringers, took possession of a rebel barricade by a sudden dash and held it against four separate charges of Hampton's Cavalry, using their new seven shooting Spencer carbines to such effect that the enemy withdrew leaving a number of men and horses wounded and dead on the field, although the Ninth lost not a man either killed or wounded.

Some of these men were of Company "G", commanded by Lieutenant Knapp, who was taken prisoner on the Peters' plantation near Florence a year before, but had made his escape.

In this affair I was not present as I had been ordered to follow Wheeler who was moving by his right flank with the apparent design of getting around our left, and I was ordered to move on a parallel line about a mile distant with all my command but Company "G" to watch his movements. And this brought on the last battle of the war of which I gave a full account in a paper read before the Cincinnati Commandery of the Loyal Legion in 1907, and which includes our three weeks' experience while stationed

in Chapel Hill, and an account of the effect the murder of the president at that time had upon the army and the terror it produced among the citizens.

I will close this description of our military operations by inserting a copy of that paper, entitled

THE LAST SHOT OF THE WAR.

The Confederate historian, Pollard, in his history of the Rebellion, which, with complacent incorrectness, he calls "The War Between the States," says that on the 16th day of April, 1865, a portion of Wheeler's cavalry covering the right flank of Johnston's army, was ordered to move round to the rear of Sherman's army, to gain what information they could in regard to his position. He proceeds to say that this force was met near Chapel Hill, North Carolina, by the Ninth Ohio Volunteer Cavalry, of Kilpatrick's command, on the morning of the 17th, and a sharp engagement occurred, which, however, was suddenly ended by the withdrawal of the Federal forces.

In this affair he says their own loss was twelve men wounded, and four killed. The enemy's loss was not ascertained. He then says the Confederate forces retired by way of Chapel Hill, after learning that hostilities were ended, by agreement between Generals Johnston and Sherman, and that our gallant struggle for independence had been given up, and the last blood of the noble sons of the South had been offered on the altar of a Lost Cause.

As it is proper for the truth of history that the details of this last engagement be correctly given, I will state that, at the time mentioned, the Second Brigade of Kilpatrick's forces, occupied the extreme left of Sherman's army, some twelve miles from his headquarters at Durham's Station. My orders were to keep a strict watch to prevent a flank movement of the enemy. I became aware that Wheeler was sending a force by his right flank evidently to reach our

rear.

I moved my command on a parallel line, one or two miles distant. That night the enemy went into camp on the south side of a cypress swamp, about one-fourth of a mile in width. I encamped a short distance on the other side. There was a corduroy road cut through the timber in the swamp, which the enemy had taken the precaution to guard, by placing a section of artillery at the other end. In the night I received a dispatch stating that General Johnston had requested a conference with General Sherman, but as yet nothing had been arranged, and I was directed to press the enemy with vigor in the morning, but in such a way as not to expose my men too much, as the war was evidently drawing to a close, and Sherman did not want any more men sacrificed than could be avoided. I informed my officers of the nature of the dispatch, and directed that they have the companies in line by 4 o'clock in the morning with a full supply of ammunition.

The Ninth Ohio Volunteer Cavalry had recently been armed with seven-shooting Spencer carbines, and the men were eager to use them. I directed that in all the companies but two, after counting off, they should dismount numbers 1, 2 and 3, and let number 4 take the horses, the others to form as infantry and move quietly to the edge of the swamp, in which the water was one or two feet deep and covered with a heavy growth of cypress trees, then in young leaf. The officers in charge were to enter the water with their men and move forward in line, with instructions to keep well under cover, until they draw the fire of the enemy's outposts, then to open fire with all the energy the conditions would allow. That I, with the remaining companies, would charge over the corduroy road and strike their right flank as soon as the enemy moved their artillery. The men took the water before it was light and soon drew the enemy's fire. The water was not very cold, and the novelty of the situation increased their enthusiasm, and the men moved steadily forward, firing upon the camp of the enemy with such thunder