One of the worst running fights I ever was in was when General Max Weber sent me from Harper’s Ferry, Va., to Charlestown to capture fifteen of the enemys cavalry. I was allowed to pick thirty horses and men. After we had advanced about five miles we saw them and pursued, we found two thousand with two guns. Two squadrons charged us and we had a fight with revolvers for four miles, till close to the forts. I lost twenty-one out of the thirty men. This was on the 29th June, 1864. The United States paid me for two horses killed in battle.
I am the only officer that knew the plans which General Grant used to capture Richmond in nine days. I also assisted General L. P. Di Cesnola to make out these plans and forward them to President Lincoln. I saved General Cesnola’s life. My horse was killed in a charge in the night, and it lay on me till the sun rose. Through being a freemason I was bandaged up. I heard that General Cesnola was wounded and I went to his assistance. He had a sword cut in the head, was shot in the thick part of the arm, the point of a sword through the palm of the hand, and horse killed whilst leading his brigade in a charge. I attended to him and dressed his wounds. I stayed with him, and managed to hire horses and conveyances to travel a distance of 150 miles to Stanton Va. He is now, and has been for years, Managing Director of the Metropolitan Museum of Art and Central Park, New York. He often writes thanking me for saving his life. I was introduced to him when he was Colonel of the 4th New York Cavalry, by Major-General C. F. Havelock, at Washington, who knew him when he was on Field Marshal Marmouer’s Commander-in-Chief’s Staff of the Italian Army, in the Crimea. I received second and first lieutenant’s and captain’s commissions on the field of battle, and have them now.
I resigned after the war and returned home and joined the Ayrshire Yeomanry as drill troop sergeant-major, 1st of January, 1868. In June 1871 I was promoted regimental sergeant-major in charge of headquarters and stores. I remained with them till June, 1877. I was so well liked in Ayr that they gave me, an Englishman, the birth place of Robert Burns on lease, in preference to hundreds of Scotchmen. In a few years the place was sold to the gentleman of the county for thousands of pounds more than they asked me for it. I was the last lessee of the place. Only three persons were born in this house, these being the poet himself and two of my children, one of whom is still living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. I took another business, but it did not do well, the rent being too high—£600 a year.
I then went to America, and in a few years I thought I should be better off under the government. In April 1884 I called upon Senator Morrell, the father of the house of the Senate, and went with him to interview the Hon. Robert Lincoln, the Secretary for War, who informed me that he could not give me the first place as he had promised it. In a few days I got an appointment and received pay on it till the end of 1893. Mr. Lincoln afterwards became Ambassador to England. On the 9th of May, 1863, I was employed in the government building, in which President Lincoln was assassinated, when part of the building fell, killing 25 and injuring nearly 200. I was one of the latter, and being unable to perform my duties was discharged. I applied to the Patriotic Fund in London for aid out of the money the people of England subscribed—five children depending upon me at the time. I received a reply telling me I was not entitled to anything. This is the first and only time in my life I ever asked for assistance.
Some time after I ceased to receive pay. I then took the official letter of the Patriotic Fund, dated October 18th, 1894, to Senator J. Hawley. He said, “Why did you not come to me before, I would have put you back.” I told him I was not able to do anything. “Then what can I do for you?” he said. I replied that I wanted a place for my wife in the Treasury. He said, “I am sorry for your sake, I do not belong to that administration, but I will get her a place.” Three days after she was employed in the Treasury till we came to England. I have never been able since the Ford Theatre disaster to do any employment. I lived in Leek, Staffordshire, for sixteen months, and the chief of police and several of the magistrates, doctors and chemists of the town, know that I was sick in bed nearly all the time, and have been sick in Nottingham this last five months, but the climate seems to agree with me better, being my own native place.
I shall ever be grateful to America. It is a Heaven for a soldier. They never want, if a good record. If they cannot work they have Soldiers Homes to retire in; better looking than any Hotel in Nottingham. If they die their relatives receive ten pound to carry them to the finest Cemetery in the world; with marble head-stone, and their graves strewn with flowers every 30th of May. Any soldier with a record can get relief and forwarded to his destination. The Americans are the finest comrades in the world, and they are the only nation that can fight side by side with the British, they would understand one another and be proper chums, while other nations do not understand one another. You would require an interpreter to understand their names; much more work together in battle.
I have attended many fires and assisted to put them out, about 1860 I went to a fire at Mr. Hollins’ mills, near Pleasley, Derbyshire, no finer mills in England. After the fire engines were on some time, I told Mr. Hollins they were on the wrong side, and he had them removed to the other side. I told him the fire was on the top story and they put up ladders to reach it. No one man seemed to be able to carry the hose and leather pipes up. I told him it would be dangerous for many to be up so high when the water was put on, it would make it too heavy for the ladder. After several tried I took it up myself, broke in the window with a hammer, put in the hose and in half an hour or less I got inside, put out the fire and went down the stairs. I then walked to Mr. Hollins’ House, their dinner was on the table, and the room full of ladies and gentlemen; no one seemed to be dining. After I told Mr. Hollins I had put out the fire, I sat down and dined. He wanted to reward me, but I would not receive anything, and he placed me on his game list. I should not speak of this, only there are plenty of ladies and gentlemen living who can bear out this statement.
About 1874, I was walking up High Street, in Ayr, N.B., I saw a great blaze in the second story of Mr. Semple’s the largest Ironmonger in the town, and in the centre of the market space. I procured a bag of salt and went up stairs with it, the oil had caught fire in a large tank; in less than ten minutes I had it out, only Robert Reed was in the room. Mr. Semple sent me a handsome present.
If I was to give my life in full it would make a book. If my health gets better I will write fuller.
