eded in finding the body of his son
and performed the sad duty of giving it proper sepulture.

All the members of the field and staff of the regiment have been
mentioned, except Quartermaster Charles H. Patten and Commissary Jacob
Chapman. The latter soon resigned. Patten stuck to it till there was no
more clothing to issue. He was a good quartermaster, honest, energetic
and capable, and that is saying a good deal for him. There has been much
uncalled for satirical comment at the expense of the quartermasters.
They were really among the most useful of officers--indispensable in
fact. The man who handled the transportation for a cavalry command had a
position requiring tact, nerve, energy, endurance and ability of a high
order. Mr. Patten was such a man. His wagon trains never failed to reach
the front with needed supplies when it was possible to get them there.
The white canvas of the army wagon was a pleasant sight to the soldier
worn out with marching and fighting; and the quartermaster could always
count on a cordial welcome when he appeared.

October 11, 1862, the regiment was mustered into the United States
service. The mustering officer was General J.R. Smith of the regular
army, a veteran of the Mexican war, in which he received a wound in one
arm, disabling it. He had a slit in his sleeve tied with ribbons--a way
he had, it was thought, of calling attention to his disability, and sort
of a standing apology for being back in Michigan while his associates of
the army were fighting at the front. It was an amiable and pardonable
weakness, if such it may be called, and everybody had a liking for the
old Mexican war officer.

One of my first acts after reaching the rendezvous had been to call on
Colonel Kellogg, who was in his room, up to his eyes in papers and
correspondence. He greeted me cordially, congratulated me on my success,
and assured me that he was my friend, which he proved to be.

"Order your uniform at once," said he, "and go to work without delay."

The result of this interview was that a tailor took my measure for a
suit and, in due time, I was arrayed in Union blue, with shining brass
buttons, bright yellow facings, and the shoulder straps of a captain of
cavalry. No boy in his first trousers ever felt happier or prouder.

Before the brasses had become tarnished or the trimmings soiled I took a
run to Ann Arbor to say good-by to the boys. They were glad to see me,
and the welcome I had was someth