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The Photographic History of The Civil War: in ten volumes, Thousands of Scenes Photographed 1861-65, with Text by many Special Authorities, Volume 8: Soldier Life and Secret Service. (ed. Francis Trevelyan Miller) 8 0 Browse Search
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each other in the fall of 1861. Over against Washington, the Jerseymen under dashing Philip Kearny brushed with their outermost sentries the picket lines of Ike Stevens' Highlanders, camped at Chain Bridge, yet so little were the men about Arlington known to these in front of the bridge, that a night patrol from the one stirred up a lively skirmish with the other. In less than a year those two heroic soldiers, Kearny and Stevens, were to die in the same fight only a few miles farther out, at Chantilly. Only for a day or two did the Badgers, the Vermonters, and the Knickerbockers of King's, Smith's, and Stevens' brigades compare notes with the so-calledStevens' brigades compare notes with the so-called California Regiment, raised in the East, yet led by the great soldier-senator from the Pacific slope, before they, the Californians, and their vehement colonel marched away along the tow-path to join Stone's great division farther up stream. Three regiments, already famous for their drill and discipline had preceded them, the F
y had to look on while Lee and his legions were permitted to saunter easily back to the old lines along the Rapidan. They had served in succession five different masters. They had seen the stars of McDowell, McClellan, Pope, Burnside, and Hooker, one after another, effaced. They had seen such corps commanders as Sumner, Heintzelman, Keyes, Fitz John Porter, Sigel, Franklin, and Stoneman relieved and sent elsewhere. They had lost, killed in battle, such valiant generals as Philip Kearny, Stevens, Reno, Richardson, Mansfield, Whipple, Bayard, Berry, Weed, Zook, Vincent, and the great right arm of their latest and last Commander—John F. Reynolds, head of the First Corps, since he would not be head of the army. They had inflicted nothing like such loss upon the Army of Northern Virginia, for Stonewall Jackson had fallen, seriously wounded, before the rifles of his own men, bewildered in the thickets and darkness of Chancellorsville. They had been hard hit time and again—misled, mi