E. P. Roe: Reminiscences of his Life

by Mary A. Roe

"Having noted the picturesque beauty of the scene, and moralized to myself awhile unnoticed among the throng, I thought I would step over to the hospital and see how the sick boys were enjoying the revel. It was not over fifty yards from the music-stand. Though it might be pleasure to others, it was death to them. One poor fellow, far gone with the typhoid fever, and excited by the music and noise, was talking to himself in wild delirium. He has since died. All were restless and sleepless. I said a few quieting words, and was about leaving when a man asked me if I would not offer a prayer. "I am not a Christian man," he remarked, "but I would like to hear a prayer to-night." Of course I complied, and soon the words of supplication were mingling with the gay notes of the quickstep. I have seen the man since several times, and have good reason to believe that he has become a sincere, earnest Christian. The contrast in his two modes of life will be most marked. He told me that when at home he would often take his wife to church, and then ride on further and trade horses during the service, and call for his wife on his return. As may be imagined, army life had not improved his morals. Still the influence of his Christian wife followed him, and during his days of sickness came back in tenfold power, and the kindly Spirit of our merciful Father, ever-striving, led him to the Saviour.

"After leaving the hospital I met the sergeant of the guard, and found him arming a body of men. "We are going to have trouble to-night," he said to me. The camp below was in a ferment. There were many there who loved whisky as well as the more privileged at headquarters. At first the rioters (who were mainly from a regiment of regulars) threatened to appropriate the officers' stores and break up the ball. But hardly daring to do that, they turned their attention to a sutler's tent and eating-house. They soon demolished his establishment and set fire to his premises. They here obtained the much desired whisky, and excited by liquor, they boldly began preparations to attack another sutler who was unpopular. The riot was now getting formidable. From my tent I could overlook the whole camp and scenes at headquarters. Meantime our regiment was arming and procuring ammunition. Fifty of our men were already acting as guards. They formed and received their cartridges in front of our tents, thus drawing attention to the headquarters of our detachment, which I thought at one time would provoke an attack upon us. I dreaded this, for one of our officers had left his wife in my charge at the commencement of the disturbance. Our men then marched to headquarters, fearing the first attack would be there. For a few moments all was still throughout the camp. Then there were signals in all directions. In a few moments more the mules were stampeded from the corrall. They then proceeded to attack the sutler's tent just below us. Here the guards fired upon them, which caused them to retreat to the burning sutler's tent in the middle of the camp. Then I could see our men coming down from the headquarters on a full run. Wheeling at a certain point, they charged without a moment's hesitation. For a short time shots were fired in rapid succession, when the rioters broke and ran. The ball was arrested. The order was given, 'Every officer to his post.' The ladies, pale and frightened, were huddled together, asking anxious questions. Many of the officers might be seen in their ball-dress walking and riding through the camp with sword and pistol driving the men into their tents. Such volleys of horrible oaths as were heard in every direction I hope may never shock my ears again. Officers cursed the men, and the men cursed the officers. For a time things looked rather serious. Meanwhile our boys stood grim and expectant, ready to quell any show of resistance. In a few minutes the whole camp was under arms, but the ringleaders having been caught, quiet was eventually restored. My heart ached for the young wife who saw the exposure of her husband and felt her own danger, and who was compelled to listen to the awful profanity of the hour. I will say, for the benefit of all concerned, that there was nothing of a political nature in the outbreak. Whatever may be the soldiers' vices, they have not yet sunk so far as to sympathize with Northern 'copperheads.' The cause, as far as I could learn, was the unpopularity of the sutlers, jealousy of our regiment because the guard of honor for the evening was chosen from it, and a desire for whisky, for which a certain class will do and dare anything. After quiet was restored the dancing, music, and drinking were resumed as though nothing had happened. Meanwhile, on one side the poor fellows in the hospital tossed and moaned and raved in their restlessness and delirium, and on the other lay the two rioters stiff and stark upon the ground, their souls rudely thrust out into the unknown amidst riot and intoxication, soon to be sobered but too well by their abrupt plunge into the dusk waters of death. Life presents to the close observer peculiar phases and contrasts at all times, but it seems that in the events of this evening there was a strange mingling of life and death, pleasure and pain. Yet in the sick and repentant soldier God was at least fashioning one soul from out this moral and social chaos for the perfect symmetry of heaven. I had hoped that after the night's uproar we should have a quiet Sabbath, but was disappointed in this, for orders came in the morning to arm, mount, and equip every available man and send them all to the front. And so throughout the day the clangor of arms, the trampling of men and horses, and the words of command, made the quiet peacefulness of a Northern Sabbath a thing scarcely to be imagined."

Late in February, 1864, Edward joined General Kilpatrick in his famous raid towards Richmond. He wrote a brief account of this, which was published in Lippincott's Magazine.

"In the dusk of Sunday evening four thousand men were masked in the woods on the banks of the Rapidan. Our scouts opened the way, by wading the stream and pouncing upon the unsuspecting picket of twenty Confederates opposite. Then away we went across a cold, rapid river, marching all that night through the dim woods and openings in a country that was emphatically the enemy's. Lee's entire army was on our right, the main Confederate cavalry force on our left. The strength of our column and its objective point could not remain long unknown.

"In some unimportant ways I acted as aid for Kilpatrick. A few hundred yards in advance of the main body rode a vanguard of two hundred men thrown forward to warn us should we strike any considerable number of the enemy's cavalry. As is ever the case, the horses of a small force will walk away from a much larger body, and it was necessary from time to time to send word to the vanguard, ordering it to 'slow up.' This order was occasionally intrusted to me. I was to gallop over the interval between the two columns, then draw up by the roadside and sit motionless on my horse till the general with his staff came up. The slightest irregularity of action would bring a shot from our own men, while the prospect of an interview with the Johnnies while thus isolated was always good. I saw one of our officers shot that night. He had ridden carelessly into the woods, and rode out again just before the head of the column, without instantly accounting for himself. As it was of vital importance to keep the movement secret as long as possible, the poor fellow was silenced in sad error as to his identity.

"On we rode, night and day, with the briefest possible halts. At one point we nearly captured a railroad train, and might easily have succeeded had not the station and warehouses been in flames. As it was, the train approached us closely, then backed, the shrieking engine giving the impression of being startled to the last degree.

"On a dreary, drizzling, foggy day we passed a milestone on which was lettered, 'Four miles to Richmond.' It was still 'on to Richmond' with us for what seemed a long way farther, and then came a considerable period of hesitancy, in which the command was drawn up for the final dash. The enemy shelled a field near us vigorously, but fortunately, or unfortunately, the fog was so dense that neither party could make accurate observations or do much execution.

"For reasons that have passed into history, the attack was not made. We withdrew six miles from the city and went into camp.

"I had scarcely begun to enjoy much-needed rest before the Confederates came up in the darkness and shelled us out of such quarters as we had found. We had to leave our boiling coffee behind us—one of the greatest hardships I have ever known. Then followed a long night ride down the Peninsula, in driving sleet and rain.

"The next morning the sun broke out gloriously, warming and drying our chilled, wet forms. Nearly all that day we maintained a line of battle confronting the pursuing enemy. One brigade would take a defensive position, while the other would march about five miles to a commanding point, where it in turn would form a line. The first brigade would then give way, pass through the second, and take position well to the rear. Thus, although retreating, we were always ready to fight. At one point the enemy pressed us closely, and I saw a magnificent cavalry charge down a gentle descent in the road. Every sabre seemed tipped with fire in the brilliant sunshine.