he was able, when standing behind or
directly before a cannon, to see the missile moving as a black spot on
the invisible air, and from a side view to perceive the short plug of
condensed air in front of a ball, which is now clearly revealed by
instantaneous photography. He soon noted how the variation in the
charge of powder, and the curve of the rifle, changed the pitch of the
ball, and how and why certain shells with ragged edges of lead scream
like demons, and work upon the nerves by their sound and fury rather
than their total of results. He soon discovered that in a battle the
artillery, except at short ranges, and in the open, bears no
comparison in its killing power to the rifles of the infantry. Like an
old soldier, he soon came to look with something like contempt upon
the ponderous cannon and mortars, and to admire the low firing of the
old veteran musket-men.

During those humiliating days, when the stars and bars waved upon
Munson's Hill within sight of the Capitol, Carleton saw much of the
Confederates through his glass. Picket-firing, though irregular and,
probably, from a European point of view, unmilitary, trained the
troops to steadiness of nerve. Many things in the first part of the
war were done which were probably not afterwards often repeated; for
example, the meeting of officers on the picket-lines, who had
communications with each other, because they were freemasons. In
September, the Confederates fell back from Munson's Hill, and on
October 21st the battle at Poolsville, or Ball's Bluff, took place, in
which, out of 1,800 Federals engaged, over one-third were killed,
wounded or missing. The Fifteenth Massachusetts regiment suffered
heavily. Colonel Devens, afterwards major-general and attorney-general,
covered himself with glory, but the brave Colonel Baker lost his life.

Edward Dickinson Baker, born in England, had come to the United States
in his youth. Between his thirtieth and fortieth year he had served in
Congress as representative from Illinois. Then removing to California,
he became a popular orator of the Republican party. In 1860 he was
elected United States Senator from Oregon. I remember reading with a
thrill his speech in the Senate, and his rebuke of Breckinridge. A few
days later he was in Philadelphia holding a commission as colonel. He
visited in their different halls the volunteer fire companies of our
Quaker City. In torrents of overwhelming eloquence, he called on them
to