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[354] to keep his own judgment, hopes and fears to himself. He wrote most, probably all, of his own dispatches, leaving his staff little or nothing to do. After supper he studied his maps in the fire-light, or heard the reports from the other columns for the day. He was last in bed at night, and first in the saddle in the morning. Dinner consisted of a light lunch at twelve; all dismounted at the roadside, and an hour's rest brought us again to the saddle. So the days passed, and the enemy was continually pushed or beaten back from each and every chosen position.

At Fayetteville a tugboat met us in answer to a message sent by one of Sherman's scouts to Wilmington. The general seized the opportunity to report his progress to the Secretary of War, at Washington, and to General Grant, then with his army before Richmond. At the breakfast-table that Sunday morning he announced his intentions, and I was to be the lucky one to go. That night a few of us ran down the Cape Fear river to the sea, and a ship bore me around Cape Hatteras, across to Fortress Monroe, and up the James to Grant. I found him in a little board cabin of two rooms. He stood talking with a delegation of Northern citizens, who had come down ostensibly to encourage the army, but in reality to interfere with the plans of its commander by insisting on giving some pet advice. In those days everybody thought himself fit to command an army, and the newspapers seemed to be all edited by major generals, so full were they of warning instructions, “We told you so's,” etc. I was announced to Grant as a bearer of dispatches from Sherman, whose Army I soon learned had not been heard from since cutting loose from its base at Savannah, the greatest anxiety being felt for its safety the country over. Grant took my hand and conducted me into the little back room, closing the door behind us. The dispatches, which I had sewed up in my clothes, were turned over and carefully read, and I saw with what a glow his face lighted up as he read of the continued successes of his friend and co-commander. He hurried them through again, rose to his feet, and for a moment paced the little room; then suddenly opening the door he called General Ord, who was in the adjoining room, to come in and hear the good news from Sherman. Bad news of some misfortune to Sherman's army had been telegraphed to Richmond by Wade Hampton, of the enemy's army, the day before. The reports had come through the lines to Grant in most exaggerated form. “Glorious!” cried Ord, “glorious! I was beginning to have my fears, but” “Not a bit! Not a bit!” replied Grant. “I knew him. I knew my man. I expected him to do just this, and he has done it.” I was

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