“The lieutenant sent me to”—
“Begone, I tell you.”
The soldier turned away deeply humiliated, and no doubt indignant. I, as indignant as the soldier, arose, and without ceremony left the tent. I have never thought of that officer since, that I did not want to go back to that lost opportunity, and tell him how mean and ignoble he was.
FRED D. GRANT—THE BRAVE ORDERLY AT VICKSBURG.
NEARLY every day during the siege of Vicksburg, General Grant rode around the fiery line of the besieged city on his little black horse; and his son Fred, about thirteen years old, who acted as his orderly, followed about fifty yards in the rear.
It was a wild ride over the rough, roadless fields and bluffs in the rear of our batteries, where the enemy’s guns were ploughing the ground here and there, over which they were riding.
Almost every day, as I drove about the lines, at some point or other I would see General Grant and his brave little orderly riding at full speed in the face of the long lines of the enemy’s batteries, and within range of their murderous fire. But most of all to be feared was the surer fire of the Confederate sharpshooters.
They were never within speaking distance, being much nearer the batteries than was the roadway along which I drove.
There was great anxiety for General Grant during the siege. Personally he was beloved by officers and men, but there were deeper reasons. His life was so important to the Union cause, that his death would have been the greatest calamity that the army could have suffered. Officers and civilians warned and entreated him, but as far as I could see he made no change in his course.