THE most celebrated charger in the Confederacy during our four years’ war was General Robert E. Lee’s “Traveller,” described to the writer by Sheridan, who first saw him on the day of surrender at Appomattox, as “a chunky gray horse.” He was born near Blue Sulphur Springs in West Virginia in April, 1857, and when a colt won the first prize at the Greenbrier Fair under the name of “Jeff Davis.” When purchased by the great Virginian early in February, 1862, his name was changed by Lee to “Traveller,” his master being very careful always to spell the word with a double l. The horse was sixteen hands, above half bred, well developed, of great courage and kindness, and carried his head well up. He liked the excitement of battle, and at such times was a superb and typical war-steed. General Fitzhugh Lee said to me that “Traveller” was much admired for his rapid, springy walk, high spirit, bold carriage, and muscular strength.
It may be doubted if any of the great commanders mentioned in American history possessed greater admiration for a fine horse than General Lee, who said, “There is many a war-horse that is more entitled to immortality than the man who rides him.” On the third day of the battle of Gettysburg, when Pickett’s gallant charge had been successfully repulsed by Hancock, and the survivors of his broken and decimated command were returning to the Confederate position, Lee appeared and spoke encouragingly to his defeated troops. While he was thus occupied, observing an officer beating his horse for shying at the bursting of a shell, he shouted: “Don’t whip him, Captain! Don’t whip him! I have just such another foolish horse myself, and whipping does no good.” A moment later an excited officer rode up to Lee and “Traveller,” and reported the broken condition of his brigade. “Never mind, General,” responded Lee, cheerfully; “all this has been my fault. It is I that have lost the battle, and you must help me out of it in the best way you can.”
As with Napoleon and Wellington at Waterloo, so was it with Grant and Lee, who saw each other but once during their many fierce encounters about Richmond in the eleven months previous to the final surrender, and then only at a great distance, Grant, as he told me, recognizing the gray horse, but not his rider. The illustrious soldiers had met in Mexico while serving under General Scott, but after separating in April, 1865, never saw each other again but once—when General Lee called at the White House to see President Grant.
Soon after the close of the Civil War, Lee accepted the presidency of Washington and Lee University. For five years, until his death, he almost daily rode or fed his favorite charger. At the hero’s funeral, “Traveller” was equipped for service and placed close to the hearse. When the flower-covered coffin was carried out from the church, the faithful horse put his nose on it and whinnied! He survived his attached master for two years, when a nail penetrated his right forefoot while grazing in a field, and, although it was immediately removed, and everything possible was done to save him, lockjaw developed, and he died during the summer of 1872. “Traveller’s” skeleton was preserved, and is to be seen at Lexington, Virginia, as well as Stonewall Jackson’s famous “Sorrel,” which was skilfully set up by a veteran taxidermist. “Traveller,” like Sheridan’s celebrated charger “Winchester,” enjoyed the very great distinction of having his illustrious master for a biographer. In the sketch Lee mentions his other horses, saying: “Of all, ‘Traveller’s’ companions in toil,—‘Richmond,’ ‘Brown Roan,’ ‘Ajax,’ and quiet ‘Lucy Long,’—he is the only one that retained his vigor. The first two expired under their onerous burdens, and the last two failed.” During the Mexican War, the general’s favorite was “Grace Darling,” a handsome and powerful chestnut, which was seven times wounded, but never seriously.
Referring to the photograph of “Traveller,” General Custis Lee wrote to me:
You will observe that my father’s position in the picture which I send you, is that “to gather the horse,” in order to keep him quiet. The legs are crossed behind the girth, and the hand is slightly raised. “Traveller” injured both my father’s hands at the second battle of Manassas, and General Lee could not thereafter hold the reins in the regulation manner.
The brilliant Sherman’s favorite war-horse was killed under him in the first day of the bloody battle of Shiloh, and two others were shot while in charge of his orderly. Later in the four years’ contest his most famous steeds were “Lexington” and “Sam.” The former was a Kentucky thoroughbred, and is mentioned in his memoirs. Sherman was photographed on “Lexington” in Atlanta, and he rode him in the grand review in Washington, May 24, 1865. The horse that under the homely name of “Sam” most firmly established himself in the affection and confidence of the general was a large, half-thoroughbred bay, sixteen and a half hands, which he purchased soon after losing his three steeds at Shiloh. “Sam” possessed speed, strength, and endurance, and was so steady under fire that Sherman had no difficulty in writing orders from the saddle and giving attention to other matters. While as steady as a rock under fire, “Sam” was nevertheless prudent and sagacious in his choice of shelter from hostile shot and shell. The charger was wounded several times when mounted, and the fault was wholly due to his master. He acquired wide reputation as a forager, and always contrived to obtain a full allowance of rations, sometimes escaping on independent expeditions for that purpose.
What first endeared “Sam” to Sherman was that he became a favorite with his son Willie, whom the writer well remembers when he came to Vicksburg on a visit during the siege only a brief period before his untimely death. The general told us that he always felt safe when his boy was absent on “Sam,” knowing that he would keep out of danger and return in time for dinner. Sherman rode him in many pitched battles, and placed him on an Illinois farm, where he was pensioned, dying of extreme old age in the summer of 1884. The general’s son Tecumseh writes: “Sam was hardly the heroic horse to place with the others you mention, but he was a strong, faithful animal who did perfectly the varied and dangerous work allotted to him, and made a march as long and difficult as any recorded in history—that from Vicksburg to Washington,” via Atlanta, Savannah, Columbia, and Richmond.
A few months before his death Sherman said to me: “Now remember, Wilson, when I am gone, you are not to hand around a hat for a monument. I have paid for one in St. Louis, and all you have to do is to place me under it.”
“General,” was the reply, “your wishes shall be respected; but of course your troops of friends and admirers will certainly erect statues in New York and Washington, and I am certain our Society of the Army of the Tennessee will expect to honor their great commander with a statue in some city of the West.”