[83] history of the war. At least I know of no other case in this war, or in any, in which a chaplain, the day after his discharge, —still wearing his uniform, and therefore the more exposed, —bearing his discharge on his person, and therefore not liable to exchange in case of capture,— knowing that his family, should he be killed, could legally receive no pension, and therefore having the more to risk,— has volunteered, without a soldier's training, for the most perilous duty of a common soldier, and been killed in doing it. The Army of the Potomac, under Burnside, was to cross the river at Fredericksburg. It was six o'clock, and though the pontoons were partly laid, yet the fire of the enemy's sharpshooters was so furious that the work could not be finished. The boats could carry but a hundred at a time. A call was made for volunteers. Chaplain Fuller, who was present, took a rifle and stepped forward as one. He crossed the river safely, but fell at the entrance of the city, pierced by two bullets, and grazed by a third. He was instantly killed. The best narrative of the incident is that given by Captain Moncena Dunn, Nineteenth Massachusetts Infantry, under whose orders the Chaplain had placed himself:—
In answer to your inquiries, I would say, that, although I had previously intended, at the suggestion of a mutual friend, to make the acquaintance of Chaplain Fuller, I saw him for the first time in the streets of Fredericksburg, on the 11th December ultimo, at about half past 3, P. M., where I was in command of twenty-five men deployed as skirmishers. We came over in the boats, and were in advance of the others who had crossed. Pursuant to orders, we marched up the street leading from the river, till we came to the third street traversing it, parallel with the river, and called Carolina Street, I think. We had been here but a few minutes when Chaplain Fuller accosted me with the usual military salute. He had a musket in his hand; and he said, “Captain, I must do something for my country. What shall I do?” I replied, that there never was a better time than the present; and he could take his place on my left. I thought he could render valuable aid, because he was perfectly cool and collected. Had he appeared at all excited, I should have rejected his services; for coolness is of the first importance with skirmishers, and one excited man has an unfavorable
