"You are mistaken," said the latter. "I saw the way you rallied your men that day and when you were reported missing, we thought you had been killed. The charges against you are dismissed and your record is just as clean as it ever was and your old regiment is waiting for you."
The story of William W. Noyes, a private in the 2d Vermont Infantry, and his charmed life is still told by the veterans who fought at Spottsylvania. On that day the madness of battle came over him. When that happens, life has no value except to spend it for the cause for which one is fighting. Noyes' regiment had charged up to the breastworks of the enemy from which was poured into the attacking forces tremendous volleys. Noyes had charged with the others, but when they stopped to rally at the breastworks preparatory to forcing them, Noyes never paused. Right up the parapet he scrambled and stood on top of the breastworks with his musket in full range of a thousand men. Taking deliberate aim he shot the man just below him who was aiming his gun at him not more than two yards away. In full sight of both armies he stood there and loaded and fired no less than fifteen shots. Not one of them missed its mark. It was in vain that the men all around him who were exposed to his fire shot at him. The bullets cut through his clothing, carried off his cap and one stripped the sights off his rifle and ricochetted off the hammer itself, but not a wound did he receive. His example spurred his comrades on and in a few minutes the whole regiment struggled over the earthworks and drove out the garrison.
Joseph von Matre, a private in the 116th Ohio Infantry, did the same thing at Petersburg on April 2, 1865, during the assault on Fort Gregg. He climbed up the parapet and fired down into the fort as fast as his comrades could pass up to him loaded guns. No bullet could harm him and single-handed he drove the men out of that embrasure after killing several and forced a gap which was filled by the men who climbed up when he shouted down to them what he had done.
This chronicle of brave deeds would not be complete without the stories of the men who were brave enough to disregard all odds either in numbers or in circumstances. There was Delano Morey, a private in the 82d Ohio Infantry, who at McDowell, Virginia, found himself, after the charge of the Confederates had been repulsed, with an empty gun and no ammunition. Just in front of him were two of the enemy's sharp-shooters who had been picking off the Union officers all through the charge. Each of them was a dead shot and each of them had a loaded gun. Menacing them both with his empty piece, Morey rushed forward and called on them to surrender. The superb confidence of the man was too much for them and without a word each of them handed him his loaded rifle and walked meekly back with him as prisoners to the Union lines.
There was Frank W. Mills, a sergeant in a New York regiment, who while scouting at Sandy Cross Roads in North Carolina, with only three or four men under him, suddenly came upon a whole troop of the enemy. Without orders and seemingly without the possibility of succeeding, Mills charged down upon the Confederates at the head of his regiment, consisting of four men. Courage took the place of numbers. The Confederates scattered like sheep and Mills and his men rounded up no less than one hundred and twenty prisoners who stacked their arms and marched obediently into the Union lines.
Augustus Merrill, a captain in the 1st Maine Infantry, performed a similar feat at Petersburg when with six men he captured sixty-nine Confederate prisoners and recaptured and released a number of Union soldiers whom they had made prisoners.
The 4th of May, 1863, was a great day for John P. McVean, a corporal in the 49th Infantry. On that day at Fredericksburg Heights, Virginia, he fought at the forefront of his company and when the order to charge was given, outstripped them all, reached the Confederate lines entirely alone, shot down the Confederate color-bearer, seized the colors and fought back all attempts to retake them until his comrades could come to his assistance. Later in the day he showed that he could be just as brave away from the inspiration and excitement of battle. Between the lines stood a barn which was occupied by a number of Confederate sharp-shooters who were greatly annoying the Union forces by picking off men at every opportunity. McVean's captain finally ordered his men to charge on the barn and drive them out.
"Wait a minute, Captain," said the corporal; "I believe I can make those fellows surrender without losing any men. Let me try anyway."
Without waiting for the captain to reply, the corporal laid down his gun and alone and unarmed and beckoning as he walked with his hand toward the barn, started for the sharp-shooters. Seeing that he was not armed they allowed him to come within speaking distance.
"I have come to take you men prisoners," he said positively; "we don't want to kill you, but if you don't come now, we are going to charge and this is your last chance."