n, especially the
Sixty-ninth, had become extremely tired of the war, and wanted to
go home. Some of them were so mutinous, at one time, that I had
the battery to unlimber, threatening, if they dared to leave camp
without orders, I would open fire on them. Drills and the daily
exercises were resumed, and I ordered that at the three principal
roll-calls the men should form ranks with belts and muskets, and
that they should keep their ranks until I in person had received
the reports and had dismissed them. The Sixty-ninth still occupied
Fort Corcoran, and one morning, after reveille, when I had just
received the report, had dismissed the regiment, and was leaving, I
found myself in a crowd of men crossing the drawbridge on their way
to a barn close by, where they had their sinks; among them was an
officer, who said: "Colonel, I am going to New York today. What
can I do for you?" I answered: "How can you go to New York? I do
not remember to have signed a leave for you." He said, "No; he did
not want a leave. He had engaged to serve three months, and had
already served more than that time. If the Government did not
intend to pay him, he could afford to lose the money; that he was a
lawyer, and had neglected his business long enough, and was then
going home." I noticed that a good many of the soldiers had paused
about us to listen, and knew that, if this officer could defy me,
they also would. So I turned on him sharp, and said: "Captain,
this question of your term of service has been submitted to the
rightful authority, and the decision has been published in orders.
You are a soldier, and must submit to orders till you are properly
discharged. If you attempt to leave without orders, it will be
mutiny, and I will shoot you like a dog! Go back into the fort
now, instantly, and don't dare to leave without my consent." I had
on an overcoat, and may have had my hand about the breast, for he
looked at me hard, paused a moment, and then turned back into the
fort. The men scattered, and I returned to the house where I was
quartered, close by.

That same day, which must have been about July 26th, I was near the
river-bank, looking at a block-house which had been built for the
defense of the aqueduct, when I saw a carriage coming by the road
that crossed the Potomac River at Georgetown by a ferry. I thought
I recognized in the carriage the person of President Lincoln. I
hurried across a bend, so as to stand by the ro