A Boy Trooper with Sheridan

by Stanton P. Allen

“Thank you,” said the great emancipator, as the orderly relinquished his hold of the bridle, and the horse with his distinguished rider began to dance around ready for the word “Forward.”

The staff officers sprang into their saddles, the escort broke into columns of fours, and the party started for the front. The President had jammed his hat well down over the back of his head to keep it from falling off. He leaned forward in the saddle so that his chin almost touched the horse's mane. His coat was unbuttoned and soon worked itself up around his arms and flapped out behind. His vest seceded from his pantaloons and went up toward his neck, so that his white shirt showed between the vest and trousers like a sash. And it did not take long for the pantaloons to creep up the long legs of the distinguished visitor. Up to the knees they went—and higher. The President discovered that he was not cutting a very fine figure, but he had no time to fix things. His horse required all his attention, and more, too. The animal knew he was entitled to the head of the column, and he kept there.

Some of the staff officers, fearing perhaps that the horse would run away with the President, essayed to ride alongside and seize the bridle. The attempt proved a dismal failure. On went the fiery steed, bearing his honored rider out the road toward the breastworks. Lincoln held on. Now his feet were in the stirrups with his knees bobbing up nearly to his chin; anon his feet were out of the stirrups and his long legs dangled down almost to the ground. As we approached the line of battle of the Second corps, it was understood that the horse had “taken the bit in his mouth.” Would he stop when he reached the group of officers up on the knoll, or would he go on and carry the President into the battle over there between the forts? Whatever apprehensions may have been felt by the chief magistrate or any of those in the escort on this score, were quieted as we drew near to the signal tower. The horse slackened his speed and gave the President an opportunity to shake himself a little, so that his coat and pantaloons were to some extent brought back where they belonged.

The President seemed to regain his wonted good nature at once upon halting, and when some of the general officers who came to greet him asked him how he had enjoyed his ride, he exclaimed, with a merry twinkle in his eye: “It was splendid. I don't know but I rode a little too fast for the gentlemen who followed, but I was anxious to get here—or somewhere—where I could have a good view of the fight and get off and pull down my pants.”

And Father Abraham laughed heartily as he joined the group near the signal tower. Did the President relate an anecdote or two called up by the incidents of the trip? No; for the booming of the cannon, the roaring of the musketry and the cheers of the troops as they marched by and took up the double quick to join in the assault on the enemy's outer works in front of Petersburg, called the attention of all to the serious events transpiring so close at hand.

How the soldiers cheered when informed of Lincoln's presence! They waved their caps and held their muskets over their heads as they pushed on, many of them to die in a few minutes in that desperate struggle for the rebel pits and breastworks.

Meade succeeded in capturing and holding several important points in front of Petersburg, and the poor Johnnies were more discouraged than ever before. The President and his party returned to City Point that night, and he remained at Grant's headquarters till after the lieutenant-general moved out to the left and until the fall of Richmond.

CHAPTER XIII.

Grant's Spring Opening—By the Left Flank Again—Sheridan at Five Forks—The Fall of Richmond and Petersburg—A Dangerous Ride—How Jeff Davis faced the Yankees—Chasing Lee up the Appomattox—Breaking the Backbone of the Southern Confederacy—The Surrender—Confiscating a Confederate Goose—A Colored Boy to the Rescue.