This incident, a piece of unwritten history, proves the great sympathetic heart of the man. That while under the excitement and anxiety consequent on the danger of the besieged Capitol of the Nation, and his own life endangered, yet his sympathy and relief was extended to a poor dumb animal. ’Twas this spirit manifested and the ready relief extended to the boys in blue that entitled him to be called so affectionately “Father Abraham” by not only the boys of the army but the whole loyal North.
Through all dangers and discomforts consequent in “War’s Alarms” ’twas the manifestation of this kindness of heart, courage and sympathy that won the hearts of his countrymen, and made him the greatest American.
Edward R. McKee,
1st Lieut. Commander,
Co. A 149th Regiment O. V. I.
Personal Experience of Wm. R. Browning of Company I, 149th O. V. I. at Monocacy and as a Prisoner of War
I was captured July 9th, 1864 at the battle of Monocacy, after fighting from early morn until 4:30 P. M., when, being hard pressed and nearly surrounded by the enemy, we received orders for every man to save himself. This order scattered our organization, and we broke for the rear. The rebels were fast closing in on us, leaving only one road open for our retreat. I took that route to escape, and went through all right, but many of the boys were captured before getting through. I followed the main body of the troops who were in full retreat toward Baltimore.
I will not go into detail in regard to the capture of Philip Frank of my company, and myself, by a body of rebel cavalry, and taken back to Frederick, but will relate one incident. The cavalry who had captured us, met the infantry, who demanded of them, that they turn over the prisoners to them because they had done all of the fighting, and were entitled to take charge of the prisoners. A fierce quarrel arose, they drew guns on each other, and a fight was about to take place, when a cavalry officer rode up, ordered the infantry to march on, and the cavalry to take us to the rear. After marching a short distance they halted us and said that they would have to give us up soon, and that we would be searched when they turned us over, and that as they had captured us, we were their prisoners, it was their first search. They began, and took away what we had, that they wanted, combs, knives and some silver money that I happened to have, but they did not get rich, for we did not have much for them to get. We marched back to Frederick City, and were halted in the main street, where we were turned over to the infantry. While there, some of the loyal ladies of the town came with a basket of food, and gave some to us, which tasted very good, as I had only two hard tack and a pint of coffee that day. They would not give our guard any of it so they became angry and drove them away.
While here, more prisoners were brought in, and we marched through the town, and went into camp for the night in a field outside the limits. The next morning we marched back through the town, and on about four miles to Monocacy Junction. We passed through the battle field, where the dead and wounded were still lying on the ground, where they had fallen. At the junction we were joined by five hundred prisoners, who had been captured and brought there the night before. These men had drawn two days’ rations from the rebels, but we did not get anything. However, there was no help for it, and we started on the Rockville road toward Washington, passing through part of the field of Monocacys battle of the day before. Some of the wounded were lying by the road side, and begged us piteously for water. My canteen was filled with water, and I stepped out of ranks to give the poor fellows a drink, but a rebel guard drew his gun on me and swore he would shoot if I did not get back into line. I told him I only wanted to give the wounded men a drink, when he said let some of the Yankee citizens round here give them water. At that, I took off my canteen and threw it over to the wounded men. My guard at that said, “I was a fool, and that I would need a canteen before I got one.” This was true for I never had another, but often needed one.
We marched on to Rockville where dead horses were lying in the street. There had just been a fight here. We went into an orchard surrounding a house, and got water from the well. A lady came out and said, “If any of you boys want to write home, I will mail your letters for you. The rebels will soon retreat, and then I will send the letters.” Comrade W. W. McCracken wrote a letter telling our folks at home all the particulars of our capture. He left the letter with the lady, and it reached its destination.