"I received this evening yours of the 20th informing me of the death of my old comrade and regimental commander during the war for the Union, Col. Dan Grass. I was deeply moved by this sad intelligence, and regret that I did not learn of his death in time to attend his funeral. I wish I could be present at the memorial meeting of the bar next Monday that you mention, but I have other engagements for that day that cannot be deferred. It affords me, however, a mournful pleasure to comply with your request suggesting that I write a few words in the nature of a tribute to our departed friend and comrade, to be read at this meeting of the bar. But I am fearful that I shall perform this duty very unsatisfactorily. There are so many kind and good things that I would like to say about him that throng my memory at this moment that I hardly know where to begin.

"I served in the same regiment with Col. Grass from January 7th, 1862, to December 15th, 1864. On the last named day he was taken prisoner by the rebels in an engagement near Murfreesboro, Tenn. He was subsequently exchanged, but by that time the war was drawing to a close, and he did not rejoin us again in the field. In May, 1865, he was mustered out of the service. During his term of service with us, (nearly three years,) I became very well acquainted with him, and learned to admire and love him as a man and a soldier. He was temperate in his habits, courteous and kind to the common soldiers, and as brave a man in action as I ever saw. He was, moreover, imbued with the most fervid and intense patriotism. The war with him was one to preserve the Republic from destruction, and his creed was that the government should draft, if necessary, every available man in the North, and spend every dollar of the wealth of the country, sooner than suffer the rebellion to succeed, and the Nation to be destroyed. I think the most eloquent speech I ever heard in my life was one delivered by Col. Grass to his regiment at Little Rock, Arkansas, in February, 1864. The plan was then in progress to induce the veteran troops in the field to re-enlist for three years more. We boys called it 'veteranizing.' For various reasons it did not take well in our regiment. Nearly all of us had been at the front without a glimpse of our homes and friends for over two years. We had undergone a fair share of severe fighting and toilsome marching and the other hardships of a soldier's life, and we believed we were entitled to a little rest when our present term should expire. Hence, re-enlisting progressed slowly, and it looked as if, so far as the 61st Illinois was concerned, that the undertaking was going to be a failure. While matters were in this shape, one day Col. Grass caused the word to be circulated throughout the regiment that he would make us a speech that evening at dress parade on the subject of 'veteranizing.' At the appointed time we assembled on the parade ground with fuller ranks than usual, everybody being anxious to hear what 'Old Dan,' as the boys called him, would say. After the customary movements of the parade had been performed, the Colonel commanded, 'Parade, Rest!' and without further ceremony commenced his talk. Of course I cannot pretend, after this lapse of time, to recall all that he said. I remember best his manner and some principal statements, and the effect they produced on us. He began talking to us like a father would talk to a lot of dissatisfied sons. He told us that he knew we wanted to go home; that we were tired of war and its hardships; that we wanted to see our fathers and mothers, and 'the girls we left behind'; that he sympathized with us, and appreciated our feelings. 'But, boys,' said he, 'this great Nation is your father, and has a greater claim on you than anybody else in the world. This great father of yours is fighting for his life, and the question for you to determine now is whether you are going to stay and help the old man out, or whether you are going to sneak home and sit down by the chimney corner in ease and comfort while your comrades by thousands and hundreds of thousands are marching, struggling, fighting, and dying on battle fields and in prison pens to put down this wicked rebellion, and save the old Union. Stand by the old flag, boys! Let us stay and see this thing out! We're going to whip 'em in the end just as sure as God Almighty is looking down on us right now, and then we'll all go home together, happy and triumphant. And take my word for it, in after years it will be the proudest memory of your lives, to be able to say, "I stayed with the old regiment and the old flag until the last gun cracked and the war was over, and the Stars and Stripes were floating in triumph over every foot of the land!'"

"I can see him in my mind's eye, as plain as if it were yesterday. He stood firm and erect on his feet in the position of a soldier, and gestured very little, but his strong, sturdy frame fairly quivered with the intensity of his feelings, and we listened in the most profound silence.

"It was a raw, cold evening, and the sun, angry and red, was sinking behind the pine forests that skirted the ridges west of our camp when the Colonel concluded his address. It did not, I think, exceed more than ten minutes. The parade was dismissed, and the companies marched back to their quarters. As I put my musket on its rack and unbuckled my cartridge box, I said to one of my comrades, 'I believe the old Colonel is right; I am going right now down to the adjutant's tent and re-enlist;' and go I did, but not alone. Down to the adjutant's tent that evening streamed the boys by the score and signed the rolls, and the fruit of that timely and patriotic talk that Dan Grass made to us boys was that the great majority of the men re-enlisted, and the regiment retained its organization and remained in the field until the end of the war.

"But my letter is assuming rather lengthy proportions, and I must hasten to a close. I have related just one incident in the life of Col. Grass that illustrates his spirit of patriotism and love of country. I could speak of many more, but the occasion demands brevity. Of his career since the close of the war, in civil life here in Kansas, there are others better qualified to speak than I am. I will only say that my personal relations with him since he came to this State, dating away back in the early seventies, have continued to be, during all these years, what they were in the trying and perilous days of the war—of the most friendly and fraternal character. To me, at least, he was always Col. Dan Grass, my regimental commander; while he, as I am happy to believe, always looked upon and remembered me simply as 'Lee Stillwell, the little sergeant of Company D.'

"I remain very sincerely your friend,

"L. STILLWELL."

Daniel Grass
(Late Lieut. Colonel, 61st Illinois Infantry.)

[ ]