Full text of "A memorial of Brevet Brigadier General Lewis Benedict, colonel of 162d regiment N. Y. V. I., who fell in battle at Pleasant Hill, La., April 9, 1864"

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THE ;T'" YC/ r^ I

PUBLIC LIBRARY

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MEMORIAL

BREVET BRIGADIEE GENERAL

LEWIS BENEDICT,

COLONEL OF 162D REGIMENT N. Y. V. I.,

WHO

FELL m BATTLE AT PLEASANT HILL, LA.,

APRIL 9, 1864.

ALBANY, N. Y. :

J. MUNSELL, 82 STATE STREET.

1866.

" •TToXsfjuoc: o'vdsv'' av(5p' sxdiv
ai'psi "TTovi^pov, aXXd Toug ^p-.^.^'rouc: asi."

" They perish not -who die in Freedom's Caitse,
Though from the bivouac or ensanguined riELD,
tuet pass away to join the glorious dead.
They live again in all their shghty deeds.
Their brave achievements make the notable
Events of time, and give development
To all the truer life of man on earth.
They are the glory of all history:
The ever-during monuments on which
Mankind engrave their lasting gratitude.
Those only are immortal in renown,
Who die in Freedom's holy cause."

MEMOIR.

Colonel Lewis Benedict/ the subject of this sketch,
son of Lewis and Susan (Stafford) Benedict, was born
in Albany, New York, September 2, 1817.

His early studies were prosecuted at Aurora, Cay-
uga County, New York ; but his preparation for Col-
lege was made, mainly, at the All^any Academy.

In 1831, he entered the Sophomore class of Wil-
liams College, and was graduated in 1837.

Thence he went into the office of the late John C.
Spencer, in Canandaigua, and read Law.

In January, 1841, he was licensed, in Albany, as
Attorney at Law ; and, subsequently, was admitted as
Counsellor in the State and Federal Courts.

In 1845, he was appointed City Attorney; and was
re-appointed for a second term.

In 1847, he was appointed Judge Advocate General,
on the staff of Governor John Young.

In 1848, he was elected Surrogate of the city and

^Afterwards Brevet Brigadier General.

count \ ol" Alliaiiy, lor llic term ol' loui' yours, — .^his
I'litirc Note urcady cxcccdiiiu' tlic stivnu'tli of liis
[larty.

Ill IS 10. Ik' received tiie appointment of Judge
Advocate General, from Governor JlumiUon Fish.

In 1852. and also in 18G0, he was the candidate of
the Whiu' party for the Jiecordership of the cit}^, and
shared the defeat of its nominees.

Tn 1854, he was appointed, by tlie Comptroller, one
of a Board, consisting of three Commissioners, charged
to ascertain and report concerning the pecuniary and
other conditions of the several State Prisons; and, also,
to devise laws for their better regulation and discipline.
The results of the labors of this Commission are con-
tained in a voluminous Report made to the Assembly
in 1855.

In the fall of the year 1860, he was nominated by
the Union men of his district for Member of Assem-
bl}-, and elected; Ijeiug the only Union candidate
returned from the county at that time. This was
the last public position, of a civil character, held
by him.

Both the beginning and the end of his life develop
the same characteristics, — great fondness for ease and
recreative enjoyments, yet with ready power to suljor-
dinate such tastes, or repress them altogether, in
obedience to the claims of any serious engagement.

As a boy, he was noted for his zeal and diligence in
study, and not less for enterprise in play. The records
of the Albany Academy attest his successes in com-
petitive examinations ; and it is well remembered, by
many who shared in them, how, after sweeping the
prizes of scholarship, he would resort to the play-
ground, and exhibit equal superiority in those games
and contests, which are alike the peril and delight of
robust and amlntious boyhood.

His collegiate career resembled his academic, — it
was successful to whatever degree he chose to make it.
A classmate, now President of a College, describing
him, says: "It is doing injustice to none of his class-
mates to say, that, in mind as in person, he had no
superior among them all. His rank, as a scholar, was
high; and he could have made it higher. His mind
was quick and clear, and he learned with great facility.
His critical power was unusual, and no one could
detect the weak points of an argument, or the incor- .
rect use of terms, sooner than he." He graduated
with distinction, and, three years afterwards, was
appointed to deliver the Master's Oration.

While a student of the Law, he maintained sufficient
ardor of pursuit to enable him to acquire a knowledge
of the elements of that science; but his taste for
general literature was decided enough to save him from
engrossment by studies purely professional. The un-

coniTnoii Ihcility \\itli wliicli lie nc(|uir(Ml knowledge,
— tlu' R'siill of Ills (|iiick piMveptioiis and retentive
nieniorv. iilVordcd him intervals lo indnl.ue this taste
without neglectin<^- his studies [jroper; and lie there-
fore read much beside Law. and digested M'ell what
he did n^id. His hal)its of critieal investigation, of
eollation and analysis, are indicated l)y marginal
annotations and references contained in his books,
and nianifestlv written as he read. Indices Rerum,
Diaries and Memoranda remain, that show his reading
to have ])een varied, extensive, and always careful.
They reveal an acquaintance with authors and topics,
and also preferences and prejudices in respect to both,
that indicate clearly the knowledge he most prized,
and in which he was farthest advanced. The}' exhibit
a degree of intellectual power and acquirement, and
such peculiar mental habitudes, as might have justi-
fied him in adopting Literature as a profession. It
is, perhaps, well to say that not the slightest expres-
sion of fondness for the one chosen for him is recorded,
in any form, anywhere; and, later in life, he did not
scruple to say that it never was his choice.

At this time, the very atmosphere he breathed Avas
charged with informing and refining influences. The
intelligence, culture and social elegance that surprised
and delighted De Tocqneville, and made Canandaigua,
in his sight, the loveliest of American villages, were

in their most exuberant condition. In the midst of
this affluence of opportunity he enjoyed advantages
not common to all, who, even like himself, had ready
access to the l^est circles of that refined society.
The great man who directed his legal studies, regarded
with much consideration the son of one of his most
attached and influential friends; and, being himself
one of the most courtly men of his day, he seemed
scarcely less intent on training him as a gentleman
than as a lawyer; and, with that view, admitted him
freely to the social benefits and privileges of his own
high position. Nor was this all. His wife, a woman
distinguished for high intelligence and of a singularly
generous and cheerful spirit, warmly seconded the
kind designs of her husband, and received the young
student almost upon the footing of a son; and
rewarded his scarcely less than filial regard, by a
sujDcrvision so tender and faithful, and counsels so
wise and timely, that, if they had been dispensed by
his own mother, they might have been accepted as
a fulfilment of the duties of that relation. Here
were presented, for his constant study and imitation,
not only the models of elegance and propriety that
held a permanent place in the niches of the house-
hold, l)ut the further and inestimable advantages
of familiar personal association with distinguished
individuals, who, from all parts of the land and

iVom ;il)r()a(l. soiiLilit the clianiiiiii:- liospitnlitics of
that liotisf.

On his admission to the Bar, Marcus T. Reynolds,
then at the zenith of his professional fame and intel-
lectual vi^or. received him as his partner in the Law,
and elevated him at once to a position in the practice,
not attained so often perhaps as fairly earned. Other
connections and associations concurred to make his
entrance upon his professional career one of the most
promising that could fall to the lot of a young practi-
tioner.

His genial nature, cultivated intellect, fine presence
and courteous manners, made him a welcome guest
in society and soon encompassed him with friends;
while the ease of his circumstances, a result not more
of the liberality than of the pride of his father,
enabled him to gratify the impulses of his generous
spirit toward cherished companions, and to do service
to scores with whom he had no other relations. His
condition and prospects in life, perhaps enticed, as
well as permitted him, to regard his profession as a
system of intellectual exercise, rather than an instru-
mentality for the acquisition of wealth ; and free from
such restraint as a modification of the contrary idea
might have imposed, his general course was eminently
fitted to engender, and in point of fact, did engender,
a responsive sentiment, called popularity ; — a perilous

tribute to a questionable virtue, but one which it is
scarcely in the nature of man to reject. The pro-
prietor of the good will we are accustomed to describe
by that term, if himself equal to much self-denial, is
seldom suffered by friends, personal or political, to
enjoy it without putting it to use ; nor, is it likely to
be otherwise so long as the manifold opportunities,
presented by our form of polity, shall continue to
tempt men to avail themselves of its advantages.

Predisposed by the constitution of his mind, and
instructed by his professional studies, to adjust matters
in controversy with strict regard to the principles that
ought to control them, and with aims less personal
than a judicious selfishness might have proposed,
public questions possessed for him a peculiar attrac-
tion ; partly because of their unselfish character,
partly because of their intrinsic importance, and,
sometimes, on account of the very doubts and obscu-
rities that made them perplexing. His own right to
some valuable thing, encumbered or denied, might
have waited for vindication to some "more convenient
season;" but the rights or franchises of a class, or, even
of an individual, if not himself, were objects of prompt
solicitude and attention. The circle in which he
moved was much more occupied with matters of pul3-
lic concern than with its own private interests; and
when he retired from that to the one that enclosed

l-J

his fatlicr's lircsicK'. tlic same topics of" coiivorsation
■were still uppermost. ( H' Iiis latlier this is not the
plaee to speak, and this sliiiht mention of him, Avhieh
it seems impossible to avoid, is altogether unsatis-
factory; heeanse the occasion forbids even a limited
attemjit to do justice to his character and services.
He was, however, a remarkable man. Rejecting
olHcial distinction lor himself throuah a lonu: life, he
w-as, nevertheless, the intimate friend and counsellor
of such as enjoyed it under the auspices of the party
to which he was attached. There was no high council
of the party held during a generation, in which the
voice of Lewis Benedict was not heard and his power
not felt. Ilis strong common sense, indomitable will
and irrepressible energy were conspicuous in every
political conflict, and when the event was decided,
whether favorably or unfavorably, he was constant to
moderate the triumphs of the party under victory, or
save it from despair in defeat. He devoted his time,
means and services, ^^'itllout intermission or compen-
sation, from early manhood to old age, to eliminating
and diflusing, by the agencies of his political party,
those great principles, which, after many jDrocesses of
purification and amendment, have come to constitute
the creed of the Union party of the countiy. His
habitudes and example may have had some influence
in attracting the attention of his son to matters of

this character, — certainly there was nothing in them
fitted to repel it. The son sat at the feet of a political
Gamaliel from his youth up.

An event of no pu1)lic concern, but of very great
interest in respect to himself, happening almost simul-
taneously with his entrance upon the practice of the
Law, had much to do with relaxing whatever hold
his profession had upon him, and modifying the uses
to which he had proposed to put his life. One object,
perhaps the chief, for the sake of which he had been
assiduous in study and was now prepared to strive,
suddenly withdrew its animating influence. In the
absence of that, all remaining incentives appeared to
his distempered vision less worthy than they were,
and they finally proved inadequate to rouse him to
exertion. Added to the preexisting bias, this was
decisive, and quickly transformed him into an actor
in scenes, of which, under other circumstances, he
might have been content to be onlv an interested
spectator. He entered, without hesitation or reluc-
tance, that arena over whose portals may well be
written, — Let all who enter here leave patient study,
calm thought and quiet elevation, behind.

The City Attorneyship, which he held for two
terms, was the first political appointment that he
received. From that time, however, he was actively
and earnestly a political partisan, and appeared less

ami lo.-^s iu the Furuiiij and more aiul more in the
C'onnnittee room and u])()n the Iliistinji's. The tersest
record of his pohtieal hd)ors would be the history of
every ]>artv struirule. State or Nationah that occurred
IVom his entrance into ]H)litical lile until he joined the
Army, lie was always a leader. He was often Dele-
gate to Conventions, State and County, Chairman of
Committees, general and local, a prolific author of
Addresses and Resolutions and a frequent Sj)eaker at
political assemblages. Ardent as he was in his own
convictions and prone to yield to impulses, yet, in
crises of importance, he was equal to the highest self-
control, and adroit in curbing in others the very
impatience that was consuming himself.

He was acute in his perception of the qualities of
men, and accurate in his estimates of moral worth.
It is a matter of no small interest to read, now, the
memorials that exist of his early distrust of the
integrity and patriotism of some, who are infamous
to-day on account of the apostasy he dreaded and
predicted.

In this department of effort he was not without
occasional personal successes; although the general
fortune of his part}', in his district, may be said to
have been adverse. Even when defeated, he com-
monly had the recompense, if such it can be considered,
of appearing, b\- the election returns, to have received

more than the vote of the party that nominated him.
Some political adversaries paid him that compliment
when not defeated, — especially was this the case,
when he was elected Surrogate. In his various public
services he manifested capalDilities which provoke
regret that they were not also used for purposes of a
less general character. For some reason, the judicial
function of the Surrogate is not generally appre-
ciated,— certainly it is little spoken of, — yet there
is no jurisdiction within which more complex or nice
questions present themselves for adjudication; to say
nothing of the enormous pecuniary interests, and the
multitudinous personal rights, which are involved.
The clearness of his mind and the equity of his con-
victions receive some illustration from the circum-
stance that, of the many judgments pronounced by
him, during the considerable term through which he
held the office in question, but one, and that made
in his noviciate, is known to have been reversed by
any appellate tribunal.

It can hardly be necessary to say that the principles
and purposes for which he contended through life,
were essentially the same as those in defense of which
he died. He never wavered in his devotion to the
great cause of liberty and justice, especially in its
bearing upon his own countrymen. Descended, as he
was, from Puritans who planted Liberty on this

I'Diitiiu'iit. iVoin I'ntriols who sul).sc(|UL'ntly lU'liieved
Anioricau Indopciuloiu-o. and tlu' son of" one of tlie
most eneriiotic and persistent of the fonnders of a
partv, organized to preserve lx)th, when hoth were
threatened, his hie was the ntitnral resnlt of his
instinets. and his ileath attests the sincerity of his
convictions and unselfishness of his patriotism.

He was early convinced that the Slaveholders
meant war. and prepared his mind for that issue.
He also regarded all attempts to conciliate them as
verv much worse than futile, and addressed himself
to persuading others not to rely on efforts in that
direction. Early in December, 1860, writing to a
friend connected with the Government, he said:
'"The feelinir here is that one concession would hut
pave the way for another, until, without saving the
Union, public sentiment would be demoralized." This
he believed with the earnestness of a deej) conviction,
and on all occasions spoke and acted in the faith of it.
As the Eebellion became svstematized and aggressive,
the spirit of resistance rose within him, and he toiled
hard to arouse his fellow citizens to a sense of the
existing necessity to pro^dde for the public defense
b}' suitable military preparation. The then Adjutant
General of the State. John Meredith Read Jr., bears
testimonv to the cordialitv and enerav with which
he seconded the efforts of the State Administration

17 •

to induce the Legislature to put the State on a war
footing immediately upon its assembling. General

Read writes: '" Early in the month of January,

1861, when Governor Morgan, with wise forethought,
was endeavoring to impress upon the Legislature the
immediate necessity of placing the State of New York
on a war footing. General Bexedict was found ready
to urge, with all the force of his natural eloquence, the
arming of the State to meet the impending crisis.
He comprehended the importance of prompt action,
and anticipated the coming conflict."

He not only believed that war could not be escaped,
but he estimated the dimensions of the struggle in a
manner not common at that time; and, although he
hailed with joy the call of the President for Volun-
teers, he did not conceal his disappointment at the
meagreness of the number called for bv the Procla-
mation. Writing, a few days after the issuing of that
paper, he said: "The sentiment of the North is not
satisfied by the present call for troops. The Govern-
ment would be justified in demanding three hundred
thousand, and the men would respond with delight.
It is time we should exorcise from our breasts those
gentle spirits, brotherly love and fraternal regard, and
substitute implacable determination and stern justice
in their place. '•' '=' * We have been wronged;
insulted and betrayed, by false brethren, — the flag

18.

of our I'liion (lii^unii'cil and our liue bivlhivn .slain."
This was addivssod to a humhIkt of the Adniiiiis-
tratioH.

Upon this call. Governor Morgan, by a special
message, requested the action necessary on the part
of the Legislature; and the Legislature responded by
"An act to authorize the embodying and equipment
of a Volunteer Militia, and to provide for the Public
Defense." passed April 16, 1861, This Act authorized
the enlistment of thirty thousand men, and appro-
priated three millions of dollars for that purpose. To
the perfecting and passing of this measure Colonel
Benedict devoted all his energies. Lo^-al men
abounded in the house, and many, as ardent as him-
self, labored as zealouslv to the same end — still a
minoritv ^vas there also, whose hostilitv to warlike
preparation was active and skilful enough to tax
severelv the stremrth and resources of the friends of
the opposite policy. In debate, a member interrupted
him thus: '•! wish to ask the gentleman a question, —
If I imbrue mv hands in mv brother's blood, do I
thereby promote the cause of Liberty?" Mr. Bene-
dict: ''I will answer that question. Yes, Sir I I do
promote the cause of Liberty by slaying even my
brother, if. with traitorous and parricidal hand, he
dares to tear down the tlau' of our common country!"
It was largely through his instrumentality that the

selection and appointment of the officers of the organ-
izations contemplated by the Act were directed to be
made, according to Sec. II. Art. 11 of the Constitn-
tion, — the imjiort of which was, that the force should
have a voice in the choice of officers to command it.
His motive to this action was both misunderstood and
misrepresented at the time. Distrust of the Execu-
tive was not, on his part, an element of it. The fact
was that gentlemen of the opposite party assured him
that they would at once proceed to recruit regiments,
if the men they might raise were allowed to nominate
their own officers; and that they would not do so on
any other condition. His oljject was to raise the
troops in the shortest possible time, and this seemed
to him fitted to promote that end. It will hardly be
doubted, now, that it did promote it.

He had been a spectator of the return of the Vol-
unteers from the Mexican War, and never forgot how
forlorn was their condition, when, mustered out of
service, thev were abandoned, without means to leave
the spot whereon they were discharged, far from the
homes whence thev had volunteered. That remem-
brance prompted him to offer an amendment, which
was adopted, forbidding the discharge of Volunteers
under the Act, elsewhere than in the counties wherein
they had enlisted, "unless by his or their consent."

The action of the Legislature, however, did not

conie ii[) to liis idea ol" the exigencies ol" the case.
Manv causes c(>ns|)ii(Ml lo move liis feelings deeply,
and he was provoked to express them with less than
his nsiud moderation. On the adjonrnment of the
Legislature, he had written: ''Had my advice been
followed, we should now have ten thousand Volunteers
to send to protect Washington; but we begin to be
ashamed of our tardiness to respond to the demands
of the General Government."

The attack on Fort Sumter had exasperated him
sufficiently, but the slaughter of Union troops b}' the
traitors of Baltimore, and the cutting off of commu-
nication with the National Capital, greatly increased
his indignation. He chanced, at this juncture, to
visit the State, whose hills and vallejs could not be
looked upon, nor its people communed wnth. by any
lover of his country or of freedom, without having
Ijoth his fervor and his courage increased by the recol-
lection that its soil had been "drenched to a mire in
the first and best blood of the Revolution;" as well as
by the fact that its blood was again flowing, — the
first shed in the cause of an imperilled Union. He
wrote, April 2-jtli, to a friend connected Avith the
Government: "I am in New England for a short visit,
and have imbibed the spirit of determined patriotism,
which is breathing over every city, tow^n and hamlet,
within the borders of Massachusetts.

"There is much apprehension, growing out of con-
tradictory reports, as to the movements of troops, —
the strength at Washington and the fate of the Capi-
taL * * *

"Order Wool to widen the streets of Baltimore, so
that our road to the Capital will he free. Trust no
Southern man wdio is a Unionist politician. They
have played a game with our Peace Conferences, and
have lulled the North to sleep, while the South
perfected its traitorous designs.

"If the troops in Washington are beaten, the Admin-
istration had better resign; because you can have a
million of men by calling for them. There is powder
here to crush out treason, — do not peck it to pieces."

While in the Legislature, it was intimated to him
that the Colonelcy of one of the early regiments
w^ould prol)ably fall to him, if the power to ajopoint
were left with the Executive. For reasons already
stated, he preferred another mode; but, under no
circumstances, would he have accepted such a commis-
sion. In his own judgment, he was not sufficiently
advanced in military science to qualify him to be a
safe trustee of the lives of a thousand men. So
strongly was he impressed with this idea, that, even
when a Lieutenant Colonel in the service, he was
induced by reason of it, to decline promotion, when
actually tendered to him.

A |)i-('vi()iis coiiiuH'tion witli llic City Ciivalry
iiioliiud liiiii to llu' opinion that, in that branch of
the st'r\ ice. he woiikl .soonest attain to such a degree
oi' prolieiency as AvoiiUl best secure the object to
Avhich he aspired. For this purpose he applied to
thi' Governor lor the necessary authority to recruit a
regiment of Cavahy. Tliis application was denied,
in deference to the opinion of Lieutenant General
Scott, that no such force was needed; although it
was notorious, at the time, that the public enemy
might aptly enough, have been symbolized by a
Centaur. Accepting the consequence that knalty
must walk while treason rode, and resolute in his
detemiination to enter the service, he left Albany, in
June, to prosecute a search for some position not
above his military qualitications.

The New York Fire Department, having made
some progress toward recruiting the 2nd Fire Zouaves,
conferred upon him the Lieutenant Colonelcy of the
proposed regiment. A series of untoward events
obstructed the processes of organization, and produced
dissension among the officers, and despondency, as
well as ill feeling, among the- men. In the midst of
the complications, inevitable from complete antago-
nism of purposes and interests, because many agreed
in esteeming and cherishing him, who could be
brought to agree in nothing else, and as it seemed

favorable to a general pacification, he was strongly
urged to take the Colonelcy. For the second time he
denied himself promotion, on the avowed ground that
his military education was not equal to the just
demands of such a rank. About this time, in a letter
to his father, he said : " I have followed your advice
about study, or rather anticipated it; for, since my
determination was formed to take an active part in
the war, I have felt that one assuming any command
incurs a grave responsibility. My reading, before I
left home, was military to some extent, and I have
occupied the intervals of duty in studying the Tactics
adopted for our army. I trust I feel, to a proper
extent, the impossibilit}^ of understanding any science
without study of the authorities that teach it; and
you may rest assured that, to the limit of my capacity,
I shall master the business I am about to engage in.
A chief difficulty among officers has been, I appre-
hend, a failure to acquire the resjDect and confidence
of their men ; attributable, perhaps, to frequent and
protracted absences from camp, which has suggested
to the men that they were not properly cared for.
Having this idea, when I go to camp, I shall steadily
remain there, giving all my leisure to study and
appropriate reading." He not only redeemed this
promise at this camp, but maintained the habit
throughout his entire military service.

I lis (K'cliiiini: to take this t'oininaiKl. however. brought
no alleviation ol" his labors, by transler of them to
a superior oOioor. He was busy, literally, uiglit and
dav. in eamp or at New York, striving to bring order
out of conrusioii and compose strifes in relation to the
reiiinient. liv reason of its being involved in the
troubles concerning the Sickles Brigade, Washington
was lreij[uently the theatre of severe exertion. It
seems strange now, familiar as we are with bounties
of a thousand dollars for an individual recruit, that
one of the labors in the case was to induce the
Government to accept the regiment. The interven-
tion of the disaster at Bull Run increased his indig-
nation, while it inflamed his zeal; and the alarm and
depression in high quarters consequent upon it, not-
withstanding the lofty speech and bearing of the
people, and the unaccountable hesitation in the same
quarters to accept troops, in presence of so manifest
a need of them, presented contrasts that quite con-
founded him.

Li contemplation of the departure of some New
York regiments for the seat of war, — his oAvn among
the numl)er. — July 2od. he wrote: "I trust that some
courage will be communicated to our scared Adminis-
tration, which has taken possession of the Telegraph
lest the terror of Washington infect the country.
What a mistake ! The heart of the North is indeed ,

wounded by the disgrace of our fear-stricken army;
but I know, by my o^vn feelings, that it is embold-
ened by the crisis, and, less than ever, will blench
from the contest."

With a more correct knowledge and wiser appre-
ciation of the causes of that disaster, his views under-
went some modification; at least so far as the
responsibility of the rank and file was concerned;
but with any thing but abatement in resj^ect to his
own class, — the officers. He said : " I have been
mortified, not by our want of success, — for that may
happen to the bravest of men; but at the fear which
caused flight from no pursuer. The fault is not with
the men; but it undoubtedly arose from want of a
proper understanding of the respective duties of
officers and men, and a o-eneral distrust amono- the
rank and file of the capability of the officers. Now
that the circumstances are correctly known, I can see
that, 'out of the nettle, Danger, we shall pluck the
flower, Safety.'

" This war has been regarded, hitherto, too much
as a holiday affair, and mau}^ have rushed into it as
they would have gone to a pic-nic. No man can fight
with levity or indifference in his heart, certainly not
to his utmost effectiveness. It impressed itself pain-
fully on my mind, when in Washington, that our
army had not the proper tone. Sternness should

take tlio place of a rcrklcss iVivulity, which seciacd
too prevalent.

"We ueed good officers. AYe have a fine army, —
gallant, stout, hard}- men, hut undisciplined. With
drill, thov can only fail by bein": badly led. W^c
have not much military knowledge, but plenty of
brave and)itious men. God forgive a man who will
vault his ignorance into a high command. This is
not the occasion for self-sufficient men. They should
cling to civil pursuits, where blunders do not cost
human life. '=' '•' '=' I trust the right man wall
not much longer be excluded from the right place,
and the wrong one retained, there, lest the exercise of
wisdom shall w^ound somebod^-'s feelings.

"Above all, I hope that the necessities of the time
will incline the Administration to accept Avitli grati-
tude the reinforcements Patriotism is oflering to the
cause, and no longer affiict the sensibilities of willing
men, by dispensing, as a favor, the liberty to fight for
our institutions."

A question, prolific of contention, was w^hether the
2nd Fire Zouaves should retain their original inde-
pendence of association, or become the 4th Kegiment
Excelsior Brigade, under General Daniel E. Sickles.
There w^as another concerning the Colonelcy, which
created much feeling and excited partisanship. With
these pending, the regiment was ordered to AVasli-

ington, where it arrived on the 24th of July. It was
a mouth before the vexed questions, appertaining to it,
were definitely settled. That concerning its disposi-
tion was decided by the General commanding, August
25th. In view of the premises, he decided that it
justly belonged to the Excelsior Brigade, and ordered
it to report to General Sickles. The War Department
remitted the other for settlement to the commissioned
officers of the regiment; and they, by a formal election,
chose William R. Brewster, late Major of the 28th
N. Y. S. M., to be its Colonel. They also reaffirmed
their former choice of Lieutenant Colonel and Major.

Within four or five days after this, the regiment,
having completed its equipment, was ordered to join its
brigade, then at Good Hope, Maryland, forming part
of Hooker's Division. It assisted in building the three
forts, named, respectively, Carroll, Stanton and Greble,
to command the approaches to Washington from the
South. It was known as the 4th Excelsior Regiment,
2d Brigade, Hookers Division; Ijut later, in conse-
quence of a failure to procure recognition as United
States Volunteers, it acquiesced in iDcing designated by
the State of New York, and thenceforth was called
the 73d Regiment New York Volunteer Infantry.

The winter was spent, mainly, in picket duty;
having for its object the prevention of intercourse
between the Rebels on that side, and their far more

•s

insidious and danuvrous IVit'nds and svninatlii/er.s on
this side, of the Potonnio, and also the protection of
thi' naviiiation ol" tliat river. It was found necessary
to change tlie locality of the camp frequently; ahva^'s
a task of severe lahor to the unskilled soldiers, and
generally of intense discomfort, owing to frequent
rains and the ellect produced by them upon the
peculiar soil of the country. The roads were not
only rendered impassable, but the surface generally
would become so softened that, at times, there was
hardly enough lirm ground to permit drilling. Still,
when that exercise was practicable, it was pursued
Avith great industry; and, notwithstanding this and
other disadvantages, the regiment improved rapidly.
Before the winter was over Colokel Benedict and
the men came to know, and very accurately to esti-
mate, each other. He spoke well of them, and kindly
to them, and they strove to justify his commenda-
tions, and rejoaid his watchful regard by significant
tokens of respect and gratitude. He wrote of them:
"Our reuiment never looked so well as it did
to-day on inspection. I love it. Its wild boys are
full of ardor and activity, and growing out of their
careless ways. The prospect of active service has
brightened them up, and they are becoming ambi-
tious to look well. Contact and contrast with other
troops will stimulate them to excel; and they can, if

they try, they have so much rude intelligence, until
now, misdirected."

His knowledge of the most potential means to
influence men, — the result of his almost intuitive
perceptions and long experience in the use of such
appliances on a more peaceful theatre, — served him
efiiciently in this new sphere of action. With a firm
belief that the interests of the public service were iden-
tical with those of the regiment, he found it possible
to indulge the humane impulses of his nature, while he
executed the suggestions of his best judgment, and
made more acceptable, while he strengthened, his
naked military right to command, by investing it with
appeals and claims to respect that were neither legal
nor technical, but perhaps stronger than either. He
earned the regard and confidence of the regiment, by
kind and considerate treatment, and was rewarded
by a certain alacrity and cheerfulness of obedience,
which is commonly rendered to authority, when it is
exercised without caprice or inhumanity. His first
campaign was against the hearts of his own men, and
the completeness of his conquest was demonstrated by
daily incidents while he held his place in the regiment;
and never more touchingiy than on the last day, when
some of his "wild boys" preferred to share the horrors
of a Eebel prison with him, rather than leave him in
his helplessness on the field of Williamsburg.

While lie urged upon tlieiii ^^ullitury reguhitions and
li;il>its of (irder and cleanliness in canip, and even
used conipuUion. ^^lu•n necessary, he recompensed
volnntarv and meritorious service in that direction ])y
his })ul)lie ap[)roval and incidental favors. He did
not disdain to concern himself with their more trivial
interests, and invited them to apply to him for aid
and counsel; assuring all who thus applied of the
sincerity of his prolTers. by his prompt and willing
attention to their requests. He sjDared neither en-
treaties nor expostulations to reclaim the vicious and
intemperate, and commended to the profuse and
improvident the duty of moderation and economy,
endeavoring to allure all to better courses by ofiering
his favor as a recompense, and never withholding it
when it was deserved. In such as held those relations,
he awakened remembrances of family and friends,
and pleaded the claims of natural affection and duty
with so much effect, that a very considerable part of
their pay was remitted to distant fathers, mothers,
wives and children, which, but for his inter j)ositi on,
would never have gone beyond the sutler. In the
most reckless and degraded, hopeful that some spark
of manhood might lie hidden in the ashes, he strove
to kindle an idea of self-respect, by demonstrating to
their incredulity, that, to him at least, they were still
objects worthy of care and encouragement, and, by

suitable means, he fortified and increased the sentiment
in such as were not altogether without it. A striking
exemplification of the nature of the impression his
deportment made on the men, is afibrded by that of a
sobriquet they bestowed upon him. The appellation,
neither euphonious nor elegant, and perhaps somewhat
rude, was, nevertheless, deferential and afiectionate,
and incapable of being misunderstood, seeing it is void
of more than one meaning, though it warmly expresses
that, — that the care and protection it implied and
confessed was fatherly in its character. The custom of
soldiers thus to mark their appreciation of the officers
who command them, is too common to make this an
exceptional occurrence ; and it happens frequently that
a truer idea of the character of a commander is
furnished by such a testimonial than by his eulogist
or biographer. One of the men, writing from his
camp, after paying a well-merited tribute to the
soldierly character of Colonel Brewster, says of the
Lieutenant Colonel: "His kindness to the men has
often been proved and in various ways, and he seems
to devote his whole time to devising means to
facilitate their comfort and make them perfect in dis-
cipline." So much vigilant kindness, beside its moral
results, produced some of another character, perhaps
as remarkable as they were beneficial. The regi-
mental hospital, for the most part, was tenantless,

duriiiir the winter, aiul not a man was lost by sickness;
while other camps, standing on the same soil and
covered In* the same skv. were scnnrsred bv disease and
dotted their cemeteries with graves.

His views and practice on most jwints, whether of
discipline or camp economy, were in full harmony
with those of his commanding officer ; and it was well
for the reiriment that these wholesome moral and
sanitary measures, invoh'ing sometimes unwelcome
restraints, came to it under a kuowledire that tliev
were approved by both. Colonel Brewster, on receiv-
ing: intelliirence of his death, said : •* His influence
and exertions were always given to elevate the tone
and standard of the volunteer ser^-ice in camp."

As the Winter waned, the efficiencv of the regiment
increased ; and when the Spring came, it was attended
bv rumors as welcome as its blossoms. Tliev ran.
that the time of service was at hand. The condition
of the -wild boys" filled him with hope and confi-
dence. He wrote : "• The regiment, I think, will
never run. and the men are smart enough in mind
and body to make a good fight." The rumors, how-
ever, were not consistent, and he was often pei-plexed
bv their diversity. His letters at this period show
that he meditated much upon the causes and objects
of the war. and. also, analvzed carefuUv his own
motives in taking part in it. '^•It is also said," he

wrote, "that we will be sent to reinforce Burnside,
which will suit me, if he is to advance toward Rich-
mond. If, however, he is to penetrate North Carolina,
I do not so jnuch desire to be with him, for I have
some reason to believe that State not wholly Secesh ;
while I know the whole of Eastern Virginia is rotten
with Rebellion, and filled with ^^ctims to human
bondage ; whose chains I might assist in breaking by
faithful performance of my duty as a soldier. The
hatred of oppression contends with love of country for
mastery over me. I think,' when I serve the one, in
this war, I am entirely loyal to the other."

For some, and especially for one with whom, upon
the close of the war, he proposed to unite himself in
the tenderest of human relations, he had such words
as these : '■' My joy would be unalloyed but the
thoughts of your apprehensions detract from the
pleasure with which I hail the prospect of being
serviceable in striking down this Slavery Rebellion.
* * ♦ "With the dear ones at home, sustained
under this trial, I shall feel the blood stir heroically
in my veins as I make my first essay in arms. '='
Keep a brave heart. I feel firm as a rock, and am
capable of dying for my country, if she needs my
poor life."

It was not until April 5tli, that the 73d left the
shores of Maryland, embarkmg then on a steamer,

iVom wliich it was landed, on tlic 1 Itli of the inonth,
near tlir uioiith ol' York river, A'irginia. Hence it
proceeded, with its Brigade, to take part in such
operations of the siege of Yorktown as were com-
mitted to the charge of lleint/ehnan's Corps, which
operations comprised a principal share of the entire
hibor of investment.

Though greatly fatigued and worn by severe picket
and trench dutv, the Tod was vivacious enough to be
the first to plant its colors on the ramparts of York-
town, on the morning of Sunda}^, May 4tli, the enemy
having evacuated the place during the previous night.

The surrender of this fortified place, without a
struggle, was not expected. ; and, deeply impressed by
the irrave continuencies inevitable to the issue he
anticipated, he wrote thus to his mother on the 2d of
May : " I am pained to learn that so much appre-
hension for my safety is mingled with the gratification
you feel at my being in a position to do service to my
country. I know it is impossible for a mother to
forget her son ; but I would, if I could, inspire you
with the pride I feel in devoting my life to the cause
of Freedom and the Union. Thus far, though I have
endeavored to do, so far as my frail nature would
permit, my duty to man, I know I have not forgotten
myself as I should, in many instances, have done;
but, in the struggle soon to be inaugurated here, the

opportunity will be given me to furnish unmistakeable
evidence that I am animated by the noblest senti-
ments ; — that I can resign life, which I love, that my
country may again enjoy the blessings of peace and
the development of its beneficent principles of govern-
ment. Politically acting, I have sought its weal;
personally, my life belongs to it in its woe ; so I view
the result of the battle with complacency. If I
survive, as I hope I will, no fortune in future life can
destroy my consciousness of having perilled life for
right ; and, if I fall, through all the grief you and our
dear ones will feel, will breathe the consolation, that
I was a soldier fighting in a just cause. Let that
feeling, dear mother, console you, as it reconciles me
to this war."

The retreating enemy made a stand at Williams-
burg within the second line of works alcove YorktoAvn.
The bastioned fort, Magruder, and thirteen other
formidable earthworks, could only be approached
through an abatis of felled trees, five hundred feet in
breadth. Behind them, as was then supposed, two-
thirds of the whole rebel army confronted the Union
forces. At noon on Sunday, May 4th, Hooker's
Division started in pursuit. The 2d Brigade marched
about eight miles and bivouacked in the woods. It
rained hard during the night, and by daylight the
roads had become nearly impassable, and the men

diviu'hetl, woarv, liiiiiuTV and cold. At 0 A. m.,
Moiulav -')tli, the rain still I'alling in torrents, the
pursuit ^vas resumed; and about 7 J A. M., the 1st and
3d Brigades encountered the enemy. The 2d Brigade
(Excelsior) was posted iii reserve; and the 1st and
3d Brigades having been forced back by overwhelming
numbers, after some hours of hard fighting, it was
ordered into action.

This is not the place or occasion to assume to
decide the manifold controversies to Avhich the origin
and conduct of the battle of AYilliamsburg gave rise;
but of facts, which appear clear through the smoke
and dust of the contention, it may not be im^^roper to
record one or two. Hooker's Division was left, with-
out support, from early morning until nearly nightfall,
to contend with a vastly more numerous force, protected
by formidable defences, wdiile General Sumner was
aware of the situation, and his corps of 30,000 men
was 1} ing supinely within hearing of the thunder of
the unequal contest; the main body of the Army of
the Potomac being all the while within four hours
march of the same point, and the commanding Gene-
ral McClellan not arriving on the field until near the
close of the battle. Hooker lost 1 in C; — a loss
proportionate to that of the Allied armies at the
Alma, — the bloodiest battle in modern European his-
tory; and exceeding that of Wagram, the most fatal

of all the battles of Napoleon, which was 1 m 8.
The Excelsior Brigade went into action with about
2400 men and lost 773, — about one half of the entire
loss sustained by Hooker's Division.

Hooker's left was the point that the Rebel General
in command, Joseph E. Johnston, especially desired
to turn, and throughout the day it was vehemently
and persistently assailed. It was also the point that
Hooker, aware of its importance, determined should
not be turned, and hence the desperateness of the
fighting. The 73d and 74th New York, the last
remaining regiments of the reserve, were moved
up to reinforce the left. It was in the execution
of this purpose that Lieutenant Colonel Benedict
was taken prisoner. Colonel Brewster, of his regi-
ment, wrote: "From the position in which I last
saw him, which was upon the extreme left of the
regiment, where we were driven back some time
before the right and centre gave way, I think he must
have been taken prisoner at that time. He was at
the head of the line encouraging the men, driving up,
with pistol in hand, those who seemed inclined to
hang back, and acting in the bravest manner." A
correspondent of the New York Tribune, writing from
the field, said: "I have just returned from the spot
where Lieutenant Colonel Benedict was taken. It

is in the densest heart of the ahatis and close in front

-)0

n{' tlu> rilk' ])its. The hark of the trunks and
hranolios of the troos are checqiiorod ^vhite with
iniiskot 1)unets and grape. The idea ])revaiHn»»: in
his regiment is that he got to the front, that a eharge
drove Ids men hack, and lie wa;^ eaptnred for his
exehangeahle vahie instead of being killed." His
own account, written from Libl)y Prison, was: "My
horse was wounded earl}' in the fight, though I rode
him sometime afterward. After I dismounted, we
made our way into the felled timber, and Avlien our
Une was broken, 1 was taken prisoner."

A principal cause of his capture became know^n
afterwards. While in Maryland his horse had fallen
with him, seriously injuring his foot and ankle. He
was unaljle to walk without support, when he went
into action at Williamsburg, and the general judg-
ment of his men was that he was unfit to take the
hazards of the battle field. So long as his horse
served his purposes of locomotion, he did pretty w^ell;
but the moment he dismounted, he was at great
disadvantage. The abatis of felled timber through
which *he was aided to clamber, in order to reach
the open field beyond, which w^as studded with rifle
pits, was more than four hundred feet in breadth; and
when he and his men were overAvhelmed by the enemy,
it presented an insurmountable barrier to his retreat.
There is reason to believe that some who were cap-

tured with him, might have escaped, as others of their
comrades did, but that they were unwilling to abandon
the idol of their camp, when he was too lame to move
without assistance. Such certainly was his own idea;
for, a few days later, while in prison in Richmond, he
contrived to get into the hands of those men, who
were released on parole, a slip of paper containing
these words: "Good-bye and good luck to the 73d
New York Prisoners! It pleases me more to have
you free than it would to be released myself; for I
know, if it had not been for my helplessness, you
would not be here. If you see any of our regiment,
remember me to them. Good-bye and God bless you! "
From Williamsburg he was hurried to Richmond
as rapidly as his condition permitted. On his way
thither he was fortunate enough to be in the custody
of humane and placable foes; who, in consideration of
his inability to walk, suffered him to ride on horse-
back. The condition of affairs within the enemy's
lines inspired him with the utmost confidence that
he would be recaptured by Union troops before he
could be transported to Richmond. On every side
evidences abounded that the enemy felt himself utterly
defeated, and was concerned about nothing so much
as providing for his own retreat. His reasonable
expectation was not, however, realized; and on the
9th he found himself, with many other Union officers.

ill till' Iu'Ik'1 (';ijHt;il. shut ii|) in ;i llltliv p()ik-i)ackiiig
estnMisliiiu'ut. siiici' rtH'oiiiii/.cd jiiid ciirscd as the
LiBBY Prison. Here he Avas first insulted and }»hiii-
dered.

A natural consequence of the j)h3sical exertions
compelled l>y the exigencies of battle and capture
was, that the injured limb became immoderately
swollen, and the seat of excruciating pain. It was
ahvays a pleasant recollection to him, and it still
abides with his friends, that in this condition he
received much kindness and attention from his fellow
prisoners, some of whom were ancU known to him,
who seemed to forget their own misery in assiduous
attempts to alleviate his. The value of their self-
sacrifices will be better appreciated by recalling the
circumstances under which they were offered. It
would not be much to yield a window in most places, —
it was much to do so in Liljby. The then condition
of that Bastile was thus described by another of its
captives: "a foul den. formerly used as a pork-packing
room, the floor covered with grease inches thick,
saturated with salt, damp as a vault, the sun never
entering; -seventy men and officers closely packed;
cooking, washing and every necessary duty performed
in a space seventy by forty-two feet. No officer is
allowed to leave the room on any pretence whatever;
no papers allowed to be procured nor books to be

read; beneath us a stable occupied by the horses of
the Rebel officers; above us, the stories are occupied
by hundreds of Federal soldiers, the filth from the
stories above poured down upon us in a foul mass; a
suffocating stench constantly pervading the room;
with scarcelv room enough to move about in."

Under an expectation that the Union forces would
take possession of the city, which the army of Trea-
son felt constrained to abandon, — a deduction not only
authorized by the military emergencies of the hour,
but, in view of them, stamping any other with folly,
the Rebel authorities, on the loth of May, hurried
the Union prisoners from this den to Salisbury, North
Carolina. They were transported on uncovered plat-
form cars, rudely fitted with rough board benches;
forbidden to leave them for an instant for any purpose
whatever, exposed at every point on the route, where
there was rabble enough to deride and insult them,
and although provided with starvation rations only,
they were not allowed to eke them out by purchases
at their own cost. The place, however, high among
the hills, was found to be much more healthful, and
the prison buildings vastly more commodious, than
those of Richmond. A most welcome appurtenance
to these structures was an enclosure of some ten or
twelve acres, in which, under rather stringent regu-
lations, the prisoners were allowed to take air and

oxorciso. Anotlior jiratiMnl iin]ir(">yoniont upon the
retjime at Kiclinioiid was. that their Kolu'l riistodians
oxhihited some doceiu'y ol" demeanor; and, although
tlie tare was not onlv very scanty but oi' miserable
qualit}', supplies could be obtained from without by
the payment of extortionate prices.

Under date oi' June 28th, 18G2, writing from this
Prison, he said: "I liaye nothing agreeable to com-
municate^ except that I continue in good health.
Our hopes are raised on the slighest rumor or remotest
incident, that we shall soon be paroUed or exchanged j
but we are constantly disappointed. This produces
various eftects upon those confined here. '•"' '=' *
I belong to another class, who, adopting the philo-
sophy of Pope, take comfort in the belief that
'whatever is, is right.' I have the utmost reliance
on our Government. Its capacity and energy have
been exhibited in prosecuting the most remarkable
campaign the world has ever seen, for valuable results
and in extent of country passed over by our armies.
I value myself too little to suppose that nothing has
been done because I am left here a prisoner. I
imagine the world may be moving and doing a very
respectable stroke of business, though I am taking no
part in it. I am far happier in such thoughts than
I should ho in nourishinir the conceits of an exa2:2:e-

~ CO

rated self-importance. When it suits the policy of our

rulers, and more important concerns do not absorb
their time. T liave hope that we. who are prisoners,
may be released. '=' '^ "^ The towns-people
have somewhat limited our market, by prohibiting
the sale to us of certain articles thev desire lor their
own consumption. All provisions are very high."

The recurrence of the Anniversary of our National
Independence raised the patriotism of the prisoners to
the pitch of enthusiasm. The Union War Prisoners'
Association. — an organization created by the prisoners
to regulate their internal concerns, prepared a pro-
gramme, not unsuited to the most loyal and patriotic
community in the Northern states. Major Cordon, C.
S. A., commandant of the Prison, reviewed it and
ordered some clian<i-es to be nuide. Lieutenant Col-
ONEL Benedict had been selected to deliver an Oration.
Inferring its probable character, the Rebel censor
interdicted the performance, and he read Washington's
Farewell Address instead. The Star Spangled Ban-
ner and Hail Cohunbia were forbidden to lie suno;.
The patriotic fervor of the caged patriots found vent
in emphatic renderings of America, Pilgrim Fathers
and the Marsellaise. Captain Cox, 1st Kentucky,
delivered an Ode and Poem, both of nuicli nuu'it. and
Captain J. T. Drew, 2nd Vermont, recited an original
Poem, that will bear comparison with many delivered
on that day under much more favorable auspices.

LiKi'TENANT r(H.oxT:i, Br.XKDTrT's tonst on the oron-
sioii was siunilicaiit and cliaracteristic : " Excliange
of prisoners — the burden of our tliouglits, voices and
hopes. May our Government, speedily, give man lor
man ; but, never, a principle for any man." Games and
races by the privates, for prizes offered by the officers,
concluded a Celebration by no means unworthy of
the day.

The bitterest element in the cup of his captivity
touched his lips Avhen it was nearly drained and about
to pass from him. Just before his exchange, he learned
that a heart, that had been grievously wrung by his
imprisonment, was not to be soothed and cheered by
his release. ]\Iore than a month before the sorrowful
intelligence penetrated his prison, his father, whom
he reverenced as well as loved, had died.

Under a cartel he left Salisbury, en route for the
Union lines, via Eichmond. AYriting home August
10th. the day before he left the Prison, he said :
"My health is good, though my system is depleted by
the fare and mode of life, so that I feel little vigor or
energy. The prospect of liberty, I anticipate, will
revive us all to a degree ; and by the time I reach
you, I hope to be a new man. We are, necessarilj^,
in the dark as to the course Government will pursue
in our cases ; but suppose we will be granted a short
leave of absence to refit ourselves for the war."

Arriving opposite Riclimond, they were turned out
on Belle Isle, and left to pass the night, as best they
could, on the bare ground, without shelter of any
sort. This exposure of debilitated and exhausted
men to the damps and chills of the night entailed con-
sequences not immediately apparent. Thence they
were taken to the Libby Prison, well remembered by
most of them for its filthiness and discomfort, but
which was then, if possible, in even a more loathsome
and pestilential condition than when they had been
its inmates. The sick and wounded of our army,
whose low state precluded them from the present
benefits of exchange, lay there, with nothing between
their tortured and languishing bodies and the reeking
floor, without blankets or sheets, and some, without
even a shirt to cover them, with no nourishment but
the coarse prison rations, wretched in quality and
wholly insufficient in quanity. This sorrowful sight
so affected the exchanged officers, that they contri-
buted money and divested themselves of blankets,
overcoats and indeed all their surplus clothing, for the
relief of their suffering countrymen.

It is equally gratifying and surprising to be able to
state that, in so thoroughly depraved and brutalized
a community as one must be in order to tolerate such
treatment of prisoners of war, now and then a heart
beat in unison with the ordinary charities of human

lint lire. ]>ut .sui-li piilsation.s ^VL'^e caivl'iiUy con-
cealed Irom the observation of tlie liitili civil and
military antliorities of the Confederacy and the domi-
nant class of society. Personally, Lieutenant Colo-
nel Benedict incurred obligations, in the Eebel Capital,
on account of sincere attempts to do him service. His
friends remember with gratitude and respect, as he
did Avhile memory remained with him, some, whose
names it would not be proper even now to disclose,
who, at some risk to themselves, attempted in good
fiiith, but to little effect, .to solace his captivity and
aid his return to his friends.

Under the impression that, in care of Federal
authorities, shelterless nights, in traoisitu from Rich-
mond to Washington, needed not to be provided
ao-ainst, he had devoted his last overcoat to the
service of the sick and naked of the Libby Prison.
He found himself, however, on a damp, misty night,
on the open deck of a United States transport on the
James river, with insufficient clothing, afraid to lie
down, and too weak to stand up, but with no other
place to lay his head. What wonder that he sunk
down wliere he stood, and arose wet and shivering, to
lie down again at no distant day, with that form of
fever, that filled more hospitals and graves from the
Army of the Potomac, than all the casualties of war
combined. On the 20th of August, he reached Wash-

ington. The general effect of liis Southern experience
and observation upon his mind is quite apparent in
some statements extracted from him by reporters and
published at the time. "Colonel Benedict is eager,
and in this he says he expresses the desire of all who
came with him from Rebeldom, to get to work again.
He will command a regiment, if he can get one; if
not, he will resume his old position. He says, and
in this, too, ssljs that the others are with him, that
the harshest measures toward the Rebels are the
best. He spurns conciliation, and cries, 'War to the
knife.'

"He believes in Emancipation as a means of crush-
ing the RebelUon. The slaves, he says, are all our
friends, show their friendship toward Union prisoners
m all safe ways, and will be speedily heard from in
response to an order of freedom. He would use the
freedmen in all ways in which they can serve.

"The Confiscation and Emancipation Act is, in
CoLOisrEL Benedict's judgment, the most terrible wea-
pon the North has yet drawn. The Rebels wince at
it, as it stands on the Statute Book, only executed in
part as it is."

After reporting at the War De23artmeut, he received
leave of absence for thirty days, to enable him to visit
his friends, and on Saturday evening, August 23d, he
reached Albany.

■18

111 aiiticijKitioii of his coming, liis townsmen had
arranged to receive him in a manner adapted to
assnre him ot" their approbation of his conduct and
spnpatliv AN ith his sullerings, as well as their satisfac-
tion at his return. The orator chosen for the occa-
sion, the lion. Lyman Tremain, was in waiting with a
numerous array of friends, with words of welcome
on his lips; but when he emerged from the car,
tremulous and tottering, unable to stand without
support, his appearance shocked the beholders, and
put a sudden period to all the schemes for a formal
reception. Ilis long subjection to the malign intlu-
ence of impure air and bad, as well as insufficient
food, had, unquestionably, predisposed him to disease ;
but the exposure at Belle Isle and on the Government
transport on the James, had put a match to the train
that now reached the magazine. He was consuming
with fever. He was instantly carried home, where it
required skilful treatment and assiduous nursing to
restore him to such a measure of health, as to enable
him to execute his purpose to re-enter upon service at
the earliest practicable moment.

During this confinement. Governor Morgan, in the
kindest manner, tendered him the Colonelcy of the
162nd Eegiment, N. Y. V. Infantry, then in process of
beinsi: recruited. His resignation of the Lieutenant
Colonelcy of the 7od New York was accepted, to

qualify him to receive this jDromotion ; and his ex-
change was announced, officially, September 30, 1862.

On the 9 th of September, though still quite infirm,
he proceeded to New York, to supervise the concerns
of the new regiment. This was the third of those
raised under the patronage of the Commissioners of
the Metropolitan Police. Its filling up was greatly
impeded by the interferences and frauds of bounty
brokers, and, scarcely less, by those of corruj^t or
incompetent United States Surgeons. It required an
amount of personal labor and attention to overcome
these manifold hindrances, that would have taxed his
energies severely in his best estate ; but, in the weak
condition in which they met him, he narrowly
escaped complete prostration.

By the latter part of October, his regiment had
attained such proportions as entitled it to take the
field; and for that purpose, on the 24th of that
month, it was ordered to Washington. After sj^end-
ing some time in various camps in the vicinity of the
city, he was directed to embark with it, at jilexandria,
Virginia, for Fortress Monroe — the rendezvous of the
forces assembled for what is commonly called the
Banks Expedition.

Like most, who escaped being disabled for life by
barbarous treatment in Eebel prisons, and retained
vigor enough to fight again, and especially such as

Aveiv siiiliciently iiitolligeiit to despise the false
pretence, rite on hotli sides of the Hne as hy concert,
that snbordinates. and not ilie controlHng civil and
military ollicers of the Confederacy, were responsible
for those brutalities, he ^vas impatient to take the
field. Tlie prospect of evading the annual embargo
on military operations, imposed hy the winter of the
North, was eminently a pleasant one.

Writing from Hampton Koads, he said: "I am
happy, both for my men and myself, that we are
going to the South; where Winter will not lock up
patriotic effort in ice nor drown it in mud, and we
will be able to strike freely, knowing that we are
smiting foes."

To a brother, he wi'ote: "I shall merit a good fate,
if earnest endeavors will secure it; at an}' rate, I will
alwavs Idc consoled bv knowinii" that warm hearts will
exult in ni}^ honorable efforts, and mourn if I fall
doing my duty.

"While I believe I am engaged in a sacred war
for moral, political and religious right, and am certain
it will be prosecuted to the bitter end, — to the suljju-
gation of Secession, — I will be confident and fearless;
but if the time come when compromise is tolerated,
expect me home. I will never support a war which is
to end in any event except the establishment, in its
entu-ety, of the authority of the Government. My

life, and that includes all, is at the sendee of the
Union; but not one hair of my head will be given,
voluntarily, for any modification of it."

With four companies of his regiment he sailed from
Hampton Eoads, December 3d, on a transport, named
the City of Bath; under sealed orders, not to be
opened before approaching the mouths of the Missis-
sippi. The voyage was rendered uncomfortable and
perilous by heavy gales, in one of which the vessel
was thrown on her beam ends, and did not right again
in some hours, to the consternation of all on board.
The water on board the ship was bad too, the water
casks ha^dng previously served in the Pacific as oil
casks. Refitting at Key West,*ancl opening his orders
at Ship Island, he learned his destination to be New
Orleans, where he arrived December 15, 1862.

On reporting at Head Quarters, he was instructed
to report to General T. W. Sherman, at Carrollton,
six miles above the city proper, who ordered him to
disembark his men at Camp Parapet, some two miles
farther up, and assume command of the post, then
garrisoned by several regiments and batteries.

On the 21th of December, after a season of extreme
anxiety concerning their fate, he was joined by Lieu-
tenant Colonel Blanchard, and the six other compa-
nies of his regiment who had sailed from Hampton
Eoads in company with himself; but as it turned out,

on ;i \\ ri'tcliod ami uiisarc hulk called the George's
Creek.

About the lOtli of January, 18G3, Colonel Benedict
was ordered with his regiment to Donaldsonville, some
sixty miles above New Orlecans^ to hold that phice,
while General Godfrey Weitzel, who had been lying at
Thibodeaux, marched on Brashear City and other
points on Bayou Teche ; it being apprehended that the
enemy, taking advantage of his absence in that
quarter, might gain his rear ; thus endangering him
and our possession of the Mississippi river. He
remained at Donaldson ville until the 25th, when, AVeit-
zel having accomj^lished his purposes, the necessity to
strengthen the regular garrison ceased, and he returned
with his command to the Parapet.

His command at this post was his first service as an
Acting Brigadier. The anomalous condition of affairs
in the surrounding district, and the entire absence of
civil or social authority, imposed on military com-
manders much besides professional duty. In so dis-
turbed a state of society, military vigilance could not be
relaxed even if the public enemy were not immediately
at hand, — elements that needed watchful care were
always present. Every day brought with it occasion
for the exercise of sound judgment, moderation and
presence of mindj for there was neither code nor
precedent to prescribe or follow. He was fortunate

enough, in this difficult position, to satisfy his superiors,
by his dihgence in military matters, and by his
discretion in such affiiirs as were rather civil and
administrative in character.

On the 2d of February, he was ordered to turn
over this command to Brig. General Neal Dow ; and to
put his own regiment into quarters at Camp Mansfield,
half a mile from Carrollton. Here the regiment was
brigaded with the 16th New Hampshire, 110th New
York, and 4th Massachusetts; constituting the 1st
Brigade 3d Division of the 19th Army Corps,
under Brig. General Andrews. Having suflered
acutely for some weeks in consequence of an ail-
ment, to be relieved only by a difficult surgical
operation, he obtained, on the 6th of March, leave of
absence to go to the North in order to receive proper
surgical treatment.

He arrived in New York on the 16th of March, and
at once underwent the needed operation, and con-
valesced so rapidly that he re-embarked on the 23d of
April, and rejoined his regiment on the 11th of May,
at Alexandria, Louisiana. He had barely landed,
however, and was receiving the congratulations of his
friends, when he was knocked down bv a frightened
horse, and his leg so injured that he was obliged to
return to the boat and remain on it, while it made a

trip to Brashear City and returned.

54
This inarch to Aloxmulriu Avas said to be a ruse

on the })art ol" (lenoral IJanl-cs, to inihicc the Kebels
to believe Shreveport was his objective point. On
the 17th, the Army retraced its steps to Cheney ville,
and thence made a forced march to Semmesport, on
the Atchafalaya. about ten miles from the Ecd River.
At this point Colonel Benedict came up with the
Army and took command of the brigade. The troops
moved up the Atchafalaja to its source, and the
junction of the Eed and Mississippi rivers, thence
down the latter to Morganzia, where the Army crossed
the river to Bayou Sara, ten miles above Port Hudson.
At Morganzia, May 23d, he was detached, with
110th New York, 2 companies of Cavalry and a
section of the Gth Mass. Artillery, to occupy and
hold an important position, directly opposite Port
Hudson, called indifferently Hermitage or Fausse
Point. Just here there is a bend in the river, and
a swampy flat projects far into the stream, making
the point : an insignificant hamlet, named Hermitage,
is near, on the bank of Fausse river, from which the
point obtains its name. From its relative jDosition, —
Port Hudson invested, — this localit}^ would have
been invaluable to the beleaguered garrison ; furnishing
a convenient avenue for retreat, if that were expedient,
or for strengthening itself by communication with
friends on the opposite side of the river, besides

offering a very eligible location for batteries. To
prevent such or any uses of it by the Eebels was the
duty he was set to perform. A signal station was
discovered in the neighborhood and captured, with
seven men of the Signal Corps of the enemy. By
means of the Cavalry he swept the country in his
rear, and kept it free from small hostile parties; at
the same time, collecting information for use at Head-
Quarters. His position was frequently shelled, but
without serious effect, though some very narrow
escapes were experienced. .

Under orders he yielded this command to Colonel
Sage of 110th New York, and proceeded to join his^
regiment before Port Hudson, arriving in his camp
in the evening of June 13th. He was immediately
put in command of the 175th New York, Colonel
B,ryan, the 28th Maine and 48th Mass. ; which,
together with his o^vn regiment, 162nd New York,
under Lieutenant Colonel Blanchard, constituted the
2nd Brigade of 2nd Division of the 19 th Corps, under
command of Brig. General Dwight. At 12 o'clock
that night, orders were issued for an attack at day
break by the entire line of investment. At 1 A. m.
CoLOXEL Benedict moved his brigade still farther to
the left, opposite the lower sally-port of the enemy.
On information, received from a deserter, that there
was a straight and plain road to this sally-port, and

that till' c'lK'iiiv s \vi)rks wi'iv tln'iv (|uite practicable,
Geiu'ial Dwiii'ht ordcii'd (lie left to assault at that
point. l>v soiiio niiscamage, orders failed to reach
till' 'JStli Maine, and the l)ri,uade Avent into action
with three regiments, nuniljering only 582 men.

The attack was connnenced hy the 1st Brigade,
under Colonel Clark of 6th Michigan, which, in a
few minutes, was tlirown into disorder. General
D wight then ordered Colonel Benedict to advance
his Brigade to the assistance of Colonel Clark; and
to march to the attack "in column of companies."
On reaching the open ground, which rose gently
toward the enemy's works, upon which the column
entered from a wood, under cover of which it had
formed, it was met by a terrific fire of shot and shell ;
and a little farther on, it came under a crossfire of
artillery that was almost insupportable. Still, he
urged the colunni on, passing Clark's brigade, to the
verge opposite the sally-port ; only, however, to find
himself confronted by a ravine between him and the
enemy's w^orks, made impassable by felled timber and
exposed to a withering fire of all arms. He halted
the column and ordered the men to seek cover; as
retreat would have been absolute annihilation, w^hile
further advance was entirely impracticable. Coolly
surveying the hostile works from the brink of the
ravine, he retraced the j^erilous road ; for, being with-

out an Aid for the purpose, he was compelled to report
in person the critical situation of his command to
General Dwight; who, recognizing the necessity,
ordered the brigade to lie where it was until the
shades of night might cover its withdrawal. After
reporting, he rejoined his men; having gone and
returned through a tornado of shot and shell,
untouched.

The sufferings of that day will never be forgotten,
by any who shared or witnessed them. From morn-
ing till night the men lay under a burning sun,
exhausted by fatigue, maddened by thirst, and many
agonized by wounds. The slightest manifestation of
life made the exhibitor a target for a volley from the
sharpshooters of the enemy, who crowded the works
that crowned the field. The assault failed elsewhere,
throughout the lines, as it did here ; and, as might be
expected from the character of the fighting, the casu-
alties were numerous and severe. It was in this
advance that the brave Colonel Bryan, of 175th New
York, fell. The 162nd New York, Colonel Benedict's
own regiment, which led the brigade, lost, in killed,
wounded and missing, 51 out of 173 in action. Major
James H. Bogart was among the killed.

At 7 p. M. the Brigade was withdrawn.

The calm bravery displayed by Colonel Benedict
on this occasion excited the admiration of all who

witiK'ssed it ; and, })artial as may be tliu pen that
records this memorial of it. it is exceeded in strength of
eulouv bv many less interested commentators. An
officer's letter, to a friend, said : " When about three
hundred yards from the works I was struck. The
pain was so intense I could not go on. I turned to
my 2nd Lieutenant, as he came up to me, and said :
' Never mind me. Jack ; for God's sake jump to the
colors ! ' I do not recollect any thing more until I
heard Colonel Benedict say : ' Up men and forward ! '
I looked and saw the rear regiments lying flat to escape
the fire, and Coloxel Benedict standing there, the
shot striking all about him, and he never flinching.
It was grand to see him. I wish I was of iron nerve
as he is." Adjutant Meech of 2Ctli Connecticut,
writing to his friends, said : '• I saw Colonel Benedict
standing just in front of me, when I was wounded, on
the edge of the ravine, looking intentlj- at the Rebel
works, while bullets and shells were flvino; about
pretty thick. He walked to the rear as composedly
as if out for a stroll."

Criticisms upon the point and manner of attack,
suggested naturally by the incidents and event of this
assault, are restrained ; because considerable research
has failed to discover that General Dwight ever made
an}' report of them.

The following day, June loth, General Banks,

called for 1000 volunteers to form a column to storm
the enemy's ^Yorks. Officers who might lead it were
assured of promotion, and all, both officers and
privates, were promised medals of commemoration,
and that their names should " be placed in General
Orders, on the Roll of Honor." High on this Roll
would have appeared the name of Colonel Lewis
Benedict. Colonel (now General) Birge, of Massachu-
setts, volunteered, and by virtue of seniority, was
assio'ued to command the 1st Battalion of the
Stormers. Colonel Benedict volunteered to lead the
2nd Battalion, and his offer was accepted. The fall of
Vicksburg however, constrained the Rebel General
Gardner to surrender Port Hudson ; and so the
Forlorn Hope lost the opportunity to illustrate its
bravery and patriotism.

. . Springfield Landing, some four miles below Port
Hudson, was the base of supplies for the investing
arm}^ The safety of these stores, upon which that
of the army depended, became imperilled by the
aggressions of Logan's Cavaliy; and some small suc-
cesses in the way of plundering and burning, it was
apprehended, might invite serious attacks hy larger
bodies of the enemy. The 2nd Brigade having become
reduced by casualities and details to a single battalion,
Colonel Benedict was relieved of that command and
ordered to the protection of this important depot, soon

aftor (ho battle of tlio lltli of June, lie had just
completed a parapet for that object, when the sur-
render of Port Hudson took phice.

lie was in attendance on the ceremonies of that
surrender, and thus described some objects of peculiar
interest to him, which the occasion gave him an
opportunity to observe : " We entered the works by
the road, over which we advanced to assault them on
the l-lth of June ; and, as I rode along, I congratu-
lated myself that our progress then had been checked,
although the storm of grape and bullets cost my
brio-ade the lives of more than a hundred of its best
men, a Colonel, a jNIajor and several other valuable
officers. A alance at the ground showed that our
assault must have been unsuccessful. The natural
difficulties of the position were very great, and they
had been augmented by the Rebels, with all they
possessed of means or skill."

Soon after this. Colonel Benedict was detailed to
serve on a succession of Courts-Martial convened in
New Orleans. His professional acquirements and
training made him a desirable member of tribunals of
this character.

About the middle of August, while he was at New
Orleans, General Banks had reorganized the army of
the Department. The lG2nd, 110th and IGoth New
York and 14th Maine, were constituted the 1st

Brigade, od Division of the 19tli Army Corps, and
Colonel Benedict was assigned to command it.

He reached his command, then at Baton Rouge,
September 1st, and on the following day was ordered
to embark with it on the steamer North America.
This craft had been built for the navigation of the
Hudson River, and years before had been pronounced
unsafe to run even in those placid waters. In the
fitting out of the Banks Expedition, this old hulk had
been imposed on the Government, and actually
brought troops to the Gulf. B}' means of incessant
pumping, she was kept afloat until New Orleans was
reached, when Colonel Benedict, who had discovered
in her an acquaintance of his boyhood, refused to
proceed any farther in her. A survey was called,
and she was condemned as unseaworthy; and soon
after she sunk quietly at the dock. He then
transferred his command to the steamship R. C.
Winthrop ; — one of the vessels of an expedition then
preparing, the destination of which, however, was not
made public at the time.

On the 4th of Septe.mlDcr the ship sailed for the

place of rendezvous for the vessels of the expedition,

which was off Berwick Bay, and made it apparent

that Texas was the quarter in which it was to operate.

The land forces consisted of the 19th Corps; and the

transports were conveyed by a naval force, consisting

of lour U'Ail ilratl i^unboats, the Clifton, Arizona,
Granitr Citv and SacluMn ; tlir Avliolc under command
of Major General William li. Franklin. It turned
out that the ohject of the expedition was to captnre
and ooen]n' Sabine City, at the month of the river of
that name. The entire fleet was directed to make
Sabine Pass by midniulit of the Ttli, in order that the
attack might be made early on the morning of the
8th . This, however, was not accomplished ; for. owing
to the absence of the blockading vessel which Avas
relied upon to indicate the point, the fleet ran by in
the niiiht. and thus necessitated a change of both the
time and manner of the attack, Avliich finally took
place towards evening on the 8th. The Pass proved
to be sufiiciently fortified, or was defended with
andacity enough, to defy such demonstrations as were
made on behalf of the Expedition; so that, after
sacrificing two of the gunboats, the Clifton and
Sachem, the most serviceable of all in view of the
shallowness of the waters, the fleet returned to New
Orleans, to the infinite disgust of the soldiers who
expected to fight, and equall}- to the sorrow and dis-
appointment of a multitude of prisoners and refugees,
who sorely needed an opposite result. It was said
that this bootless expedition was not favored by the
most experienced officers in the Department, who
preferred Brownsville as a base for ulterior operations.

Colonel Benedict shared in the general regret
caused by such barrenness of creditable results from
an enterprise which had inspired high hopes, founded
largely on the tried bravery of the 19th Corps. The
reaction, however, created in all, both officers and
men, a burning desire to supplant the remembrances
of the Sabine Pass failure, by other emotions excited
by some important success. It was, therefore, with
great satisfaction that, after spending four or five days
in camp at Algiers, he received orders to march his
Brigade to Brashear City, in order to participate in
some operations in Western Louisiana. These opera-
tions were designed to favor another portion of the
Army, sent to occupy Brownsville, on the Rio Grande,
by compelling the Rebels to withdraw troops from
Texas, to oppose the advance of this one. After an
unimportant skirmish, near Carrion Crow Bayou, the
19 th Corps moved to Vermillion ville.

Here it was reported to Major General Franklin
that the enemy was concentrating forces, at or near
Carrion Crow Ba3'0u; and, for the purpose of deter-
mining their numbers and position, he directed General
A. L. Lee to make a reconnoissance, with all his
available Cavalry. The Cavalry Division, comprising
2 Brigades of 800 each, started from Vermillionville
for the Bayou in question, distant twelve miles due
North, at 6.30 A. M., November 11th, and soon

coiiimciiccd dri\ iii<j; back the pickets ol' tlie eiieiii^' tu
their reserve of 000. A runniiiix fi,!j:ht then ensued,
for some six or eiuht miles, ending in General Lee's
charuinsx them viuorously, and drivinsi' them in confii-
sion into a dense Mood. Nimm's Li,ii,ht Battery of
Flying Artillery was quickly brought up, and, after it
had shelled the woods, General Lee advanced his
whole force, in line of battle, through the woods, and
found the enemy drawn up. in like order, on the oppo-
site side of a prairie about two miles broad, numbering,
as nearly as could be estimated, some 7000. Seeinor
that he was outnumbered, four to one, and having
accomplished the object of his reconnoissance, he
ordered a retreat.

The enemy, detecting his intention, sent a large
force to make a demonstration on his left flank, upon
which he dispatched the 1st (Col. Lucas') Brigade to
protect the left, while the General, in person, remained
with the main column in the road.

CoLOXEL Benedict had been ordered to advance his
Brigade about a mile beyond Vermillion Bayou, and
hold himself in readiness to support General Lee.
After being in position an hour, he received a request
from the General that he would move up the road.
When he had proceeded about four miles, he was met
by a message that General Lee was retreating before
a superior enemy, accompanied by an order that he

should take a position where his force would be
masked ; that thus General Lee might have an opportu-
nity to turn and make a dash at the enemy's Cavalry.
Colonel Benedict selected for this purpose the east
side of a prairie, about twelve hundred yards wide, —
posting the men in the ditches, — Nimms' Battery in
the rear of the left flank and Trull's in rear of the
right, — a position in which his eight hundred and
odd could withstand five thousand. General Lee
retired behind this position to tempt the enemy into
the open prairie ; but he was too cautious and opened
with his artillery. This was replied to with vigor,
and for an hour the fire was active, the Rebels sufier-
ing severely. Then, failing in an attempt to outflank,
they sought the cover of the fences and retired.
Colonel Benedict's Brigade was so well protected that
it had but 1 killed and 4 wounded.

On the 15th of November, the Army left Vermil-
lionville, encamping for the night near Spanish Lake,
and the next day marched to New Iberia, where it
remained in quarters until ihe close of the year.
Colonel Benedict's Brigade held the post of honor on
the march, acting as rear guard of the army.

Though not attacked on the way, it was closely
followed by the enemy, and had not become settled in
quarters, when it was announced that Camp Pratt,
its very place of encampment the night before, was

ill tluMU'cupation ol" the cikmiiv. A tletaeliinoiit was
at ouce sent out. wliicli surprised in their beds, and
captured, more than 120 Rebels.

On the 2nd of January, 18G4, he arrived at Frank-
lin, Louisiana, where the Armj' was concentrated.
Here was organized what is known, and generally
deplored, as the Red River Expedition. Colonel
Benedict was assigned to the connnand of the 3d
Brigade of the 1st Division of the 19th Army Corps.
Major General Franklin commanded the Corps ; Gen-
eral Emory, the Division.

On the loth of March, the Division moved to enter
upon the Red River Campaign. Traversing the rich
flats of Lower Louisiana, and skirmishing slightly on
the way, it reached Alexandria, — a distance of 160
miles, on the 25th. The march was continued, on
the 27th, to Natchitoches, where the Army encamped
on the 31st, and awaited the arrival of the provision
transports. General Banks and Commodore Porter,
with his fleet, were at Grand Ecore, 4 miles above. A
reconnoissance having ascertained with sufficient
accuracy, as was thought, the strength and position
of the enemy at and beyond Pleasant Hill, the entire
Army marched from Natchitoches on the morning of
the 6th of April. After an exhausting march through
rain and mud. Colonel Benedict's Brigade arrived at
Pleasant Hill on the evening of the 7th, and bivou-

acked ; — the wagons not having come up. At 8
o'clock the next morning, the 8th, it resumed its march,
and in the afternoon encamped, with the rest of the
Division, at Carroll's Mill, about 1 1 miles northwest of
Pleasant Hill.

The line of march is thus described by General
Banks, in his official report: "General Lee, with the
Cavalry Division, led the advance, followed by a de-
tachment of two divisions of the loth Corps, under
General Ransom, 1st Division, 19 th Corps, under
General Emory, and a bris^ade of colored troops under
the command of Colonel Dickey, — the whole under
the immediate command of Major General Franklin."

General Banks further states: "The enemy offered
no opposition to their march on the 6th. On the 7th
the advance drove a small force to Pleasant Hill, and
from there to AVilson's Farm, three miles beyond,
where a sharp fight occurred with the enemy posted
in a very strong position, from which they were
driven with serious loss and pursued to St. Patrick's
Bayou, near Carroll's Mill, about nine miles from
Pleasant Hill, where our forces bivouacked for the
night. We sustained in this action a loss of 14 men
killed, 39 wounded, and 9 missing. We captured
many prisoners, and the enemy sustained severe losses
in killed and wounded. During the engagement,
General Lee sent to General Franklin for re-enforce-

mcnts. and a brigade of Infantry was sent forward,
but. the firinu' having ceased, it was withdrawn. The
oflicers and men fought witli great spirit in this aflair.
At daybreak on the 8tli, General Lee, to whose
support a brigade of the 13th Corps, under Colonel
Landrum, had been sent by my order, advanced upon
the enemy, drove liim from his position on the o])po-
site side of St. Patrick's Bajou, and pursued him to
Sabine Cross Eoads, about three miles from Mansfield.
The advance was steady but slow, and ' the resistance
of the enemy stubborn. He was only driven from
his defensive positions on the road by artillery. At
noon on the 8th, another brigade of the 13th Corps
arrived at the Cross Roads, under Brig. Gen. Ransom,
to relieve the First Brigade. The Infantry moved
from Pleasant Hill at daybreak on the 8th, the head
of the column halting at St. Patrick's Bayou, in order
that the rear might come up. I passed General
Franklin's Head-Quarters at 10 A. M., giving directions
to close up the column as speedily as possible, and
rode forward to ascertain the condition of affairs at
the front, where I arrived between 1 and 2 o'clock.
General Ransom arrived nearly at the same time, with
the 2nd Brigade, 13th Corps, which was under his
command at the action at the Cross Roads.

'•'I found the troops in line of battle, the skirmishers
sharply engaged, the main body of the enemy posted

on the crest of a hill, in thick woods, on both sides
of a road leading over the hill to Mansfield, on our
line of march.

"It was apparent that the enem}^ was in much
stronger force than at any previous point on the
march, and, being confirmed in this opinion by General
Franklin, immediately upon my arrival, I sent a state-
ment of the facts and orders to hurry forward the
Infantry with all possible dispatch, directing General
Lee, at the same time, to hold his ground steadily, but
not advance until re-enforcements should arrive. Our
forces were for a long time stationary, with some
skirmishing on the flanks. It soon became apparent
that the entire force of the enemy was in our front.
Several officers were sent to General Franklin to hurry
forward the column. Skirmishing was incessant dur-
ing the afternoon. At 4.30 p. m. the enemy made a
general attack all along the lines, but with great vigor
upon our right flank. It was resisted with resolute
determination by our troops, but overpowering num-
bers compelled them, after resisting the successive
charges of the enemy in front and on the flank, to fall
back from their position to the woods in rear of the
open field which they occupied, retreating in good order.
The enemy pressed with great vigor upon the flanks as
well as in front, for the purpose of getting to the rear,

but were repulsed in this attempt by our Cavalry.

"At tlio lino of woods a now jiosition won nssiimod,
supportod l>v tlio od Diviision of" the loth Army Corps,
under General Cameron, which reached this point
about 5 r. m., and ibrmoil in line of battle under the
direction of Major-General Franklin, who accompanied
its advance. The enemy attacked this second line
with great impetuosity and overpowering numbers,
turning both flanks, and advancing heavily upon the
centre. The assault was resisted Avith gallantry, but
the troops, finding the enemy in the rear, were com-
pelled to yield the ground and fall steadily back. The
road was badl}^ obstructed by the supply train of the
Cavahy Division, which prevented the retreat of both
men and artillery. We lost ten of the guns of Ran-
som's Division in consequence of the position of the
train, wdiicli prevented their withdraw^al. Repeated
efforts Avere made to reform the troops and resist
the advance of the enemy; but, though their pro-
gress was checked, it was without permanent success.

"Brig. Gen. W. H. Emory, commanding 1st Division,
19th Corps, had been early notified of the condition of
afliiirs, and directed to advance as rapidlj- as possible,
and form a line of battle in the strongest position he
could select, to support the troops in retreat and check
the advance of the enemv. The order to advance
found him seven miles to the rear of the first battle
ground. He assumed a position at Pleasant Grove,

about three miles from the cross roads, on the edge of
the woods commanding an open fiekl sloping to the
front. The 161st New York Volunteers, Lieut.-Colo-
nel Kinsey commanding, were dejDloyed as skirmish-
ers, and ordered to the foot of the hill, upon the crest
of which the line was formed to cover the rear of the
retreating forces, to check the pursuit of the enemy
and give time for the formation of the troops.

"General D wight, commanding 1st Brigade, formed
his troops across the road upon which the enemy was
moving, commanding the open field in front; the 3d
Brigade, Colonel Benedict commanding, formed to
the left, and the 2nd Brigade, General McMillan, in
reserve. The line was scarcely formed when the 161st
New York Volunteers were attacked and driven in.
The right being threatened, a portion of McMillan's
Brigade formed on the right of General Dwight. The
fire of our troops was reserved until the enemy was at
close quarters, when the Avliole line opened upon them
with most destructive volleys of musketry. The
action lasted an hour and a half The enemy was
repulsed with very great slaughter. During the fight,
a determined effort was made to turn our left flank,
which was defeated. Prisoners reported the loss of
the enemy in officers and men to be very great. Gene-
ral Mouton was killed in the first onset. Their
attack was made with great desperation, apparently

7:2

with the idvd that the dispersion ul" our Ibrces at this
point would end the eampaiiin. and. with the aid of
the steadily falling river, leave the lleet of transpoVts
and gunboats in their hands, or compel their destruc-
tion. Nothing could surpass in impetuosity the
assault of the enemy but the inflexible steadiness and
valor of our troops. The 1st Division of the 19th
Corps, I)}- its great bravery in this action, saved the
Army and Navy. But for this successful resistance to
the attack of the enemy at Pleasant Grove, the
renewed attack of the enemy with increased force
could not have been successfully resisted at Pleasant
Hill on the 9th of April. We occupied the battle
grounds at night."

In this action the loss of 1st Division, in killed,
wounded and missing, was 13 officers and 343 men.

To refer more particular!}^ to the movements and
services of Colonel Benedict's Brigade on this occa-
sion, it may be stated that, at about 4.30 p. m., the
men being engaged in cooking their rations, orders
came to prepare to move forward; and very soon
it commenced a march at double quick time toward
Sabine Cross Eoads, a distance of six miles, arriv-
ing at 6 r. M., at the point selected by General
Emory to cover the retreat of our discomfited troops
and check the advance of the enemy. As this point
was approached, the Brigade made its way through a

confused rabble of cavalry men, infantry, artillery
men and camp followers, commingled with horses,
mules, wagons and ambulances, the whole giving token
of the seriousness of the situation. Entering the field
to the left of the wood, his Brigade was rapidly
deployed in the following order: the 162nd New
York on the right of the Brigade, resting upon the
left of the 2nd Brigade, the 173d New York on the
left of the 162nd, both regiments being on the crest of
a hill, with a ravine in front, the enemy occupying a
similar crest opposite. The 30th Maine was posted
in the rear of 173d New York on its left, and a few
rods in advance.

The Brigade was scarcely in position when it
received the fire of the enemy; who, encouraged by
previous success, came on, as if already the field was
won. They were received, however, by such a fire as
put their further advance out of the question, although
they continued the attack, with great bravery and
perseverance, at a fearful cost of life. The mainte-
nance of his position by Emory was indispensable to
the safety of the Army; of which emergencj^ the
enemy appeared to be as conscious as himself. Hence
their desperate determination to turn his left, held by
Colonel Benedict's Brigade. One desperate effort,
made towards night, was so bloodily repulsed, that
the Rebels not only recoiled, but fled, leaving their

dead and wounded nvIutc they ("ell. In this repulse
the lC)2nd ;uul ITod New York Avere niaiidy instru-
mental, and it elosed the fighting at this point.
Colonel Benedict was niueli commended for the
eflective manner in which he handled his brigade.
Gen. Banks, in his official report, says :
" From Pleasant Grove, where this action occurred,
to Pleasant Hill, was fifteen miles. It was certain
that the enemy, who was within reach of re-euforce-
ments, would renew the attack in the morning, and
it was wholly uncertain whether the command of
General Smith could reach the position we held
in season for a second engagement. For this reason
the Army towards morning fell back to Pleasant Hill,
General Emory covering the rear, burjdng the dead,
bringing oH' the wounded and all the materiel of
the Army.

" It arrived there at 8.30 on the morning of the
9th, effecting a junction with the forces of General
Smith and the Colored Brigade under Colonel Dickey,
which had reached that point the evening previous.
Early on the 9tli the troops were prepared for action,
the movements of the eueni}' indicating that he was
on our rear. A line of battle was formed in the
following order: — 1st Brigade, 19th Corps, on the
right, resting on a ravine ; 2nd Brigade in the centre,
and 3d Brigade on the left. The centre w^as strength-

ened by a Brigade of General Smith's forces, whose
main force was held in reserve. The enemy moved
towards our right flank. The 2nd Brigade withdrew
from the centre to the support of the 1st Brigade.
The Brigade in support of the centre moved up into
position, and another of General Smith's Brigades
was posted to the extreme left position on the hill in
echelon to the rear of the left main line. Light
skirmishing occurred during the afternoon. Between
4 and 5 o'clock it increased in vigor, and about 5 p. ir.,
when it appeared to have nearly ceased, the enemy
drove in our skirmishers and attacked in force, his
first onset being against the left. He advanced in
two oblique lines extending well over towards the
right of the 3d Brigade, 19th Corps. After a deter-
mined resistance, this part of the line gave way, and
went slowly back to the reserves. The 1st and 2nd
Brigades were soon enveloped in front, right and rear.
By skilful movements of General Emory, the flank of
the two Brigades, now bearing the brunt of the battle,
were covered. The enemy pursued the Brigades,
passing the left and centre, until he approached the
reserves under General Smith, when he was met by a
charge led by General Mower, and checked. The
whole of the reserves were now ordered up, and in
turn we drove the enemy, continuing the pursuit
until night compelled us to halt."

Ceiu'ral Kiiu)rv. in Iii.s Oiliciul Eeport, says:

"On reaching Pleasant ITill. Invent into line of
battle, faced to the rear, in the following order : First,
the 1st Brigade, General Dwight, connnanding on the
right, resting on a ravine ■which runs to the north of
the town ; Second, General McMillan, commanding 2nd
Brigade ; Third, Colonel Bexedict, commanding 3d
Brigade. General McMillan was posted in the edge
of a wood, commanding an o^Den field in front, and
Bexedict's Brigade in a ditch, his left resting in an
. open field.

" I sent word twice to request that Benedict's left
might be supported b}'' a Brigade placed in reserve or
in line of battle.

" The 25th New York Battery was posted on the
hill between the 1st and 2nd Briirades. The whole
line was about one half a mile in advance of the
town.

" After establishing my line. General McMillan was
withdrawn and placed on the right and rear, as a
reserve, and his place was supplied by a Brigade of
General Smith's Division.

" My pickets were skirmishing, and the shots few
and desultory through the day, and it was not supposed
the enemy w^ould attack. However, about 5.15 p. m. he
emerged from the woods in all directions and in heavy
columns, completely outflanked and overpowered my

left wing, composed of the 3d Brigade and a Brigade
of Smith's command, which broke in some confusion
and enabled the enemy to get temporary possession of
4 pieces of artiTlery of Battery ''L," 1st U. S.

" My right stood firm and repulsed the enemy hand-
somely, and the left, I think, would have done so, but
for the great interval between it and the troops to the
left — leaving that flank entirely exposed — and the
fall of the gallant leader of the 3d Brigade, Colonel
Benedict.

" I immediately ordered General McMillan's Brigade, .
from the right to the left, on the open space in the rear
of the line of the 3d Brigade, and ordered him to
charge the enemy.

"Behind this line most of the 3d Brigade rallied,
some joining themselves to McMillan's Brigade, and
some to General Smith's command; all moved forward
together, and drove the enemy's right flank more than
a mile and a quarter.

" Seeing their right wing driven in and thrown
upon their left wing, they renewed their attack with
vigor upon my right, but were repulsed with great
slaughter; and, during the whole day, my right, which
was in echelon in front of the rest of my line, held its
ground against several determined assaults.

" Our loss this day was in killed, wounded and

missing, 28 officers and 473 men."

Some details, exliil)itiiig more particuliirlj the ser-
vice of the ■](] lii'iuade in tliis aetioii. are furiiislied by
an ollieial report ot" Colonel (now General) Francis
Fessenden, then of the oOtli Maine, who succeeded
Colonel Benedict in the command of it. He sajs :
" At 3.30 r. M., our cavalry skirmishers were driven
in upon our left flank, through our infantry skir-
mishers. The skirmishers in the woods in front of
the Brigade were strengthened, and the line of battle
of the Brigade changed from its position in the skirts
of the wood, to a position 300 yards to the rear, behind
a deep ditch, the edges of which were overgrown with
weeds and underbrush, which partially concealed the
troops when lying down. The ground sloped towards
the ditch from the woods and ascended aaain to the
rear. The regiments were posted in the following
order : 165tli New York on the right of the Brigade ;
ITod New York on the right centre; 162nd New York,
on the left centre ; 30th Maine on the extreme left of
the Brigade ; the Brigade being on the left of the front
line of battle. The right of the Brigade was near the
woods on the right of the open ground, while the left
of the line rested in open ground and was entirely
uncovered. The companies of skirmishers Avere di-
rected to remain in the woods. Shortly after 5 p. m.,
a company of colored soldiers, deployed as skirmishers
between the skirmishers of the Brigade and those of

the 16th Corps, who were in line in echelon some 400
yards to our left rear, and in the woods beyond the
slope in our rear, were driven in across the open
ground on our left. Soon after, the skirmishers of the
3d Brigade in the woods were driven in, and had not
yet joined their regiments, when the enemy appeared
in the edge of the woods, in front and beyond the left
of the line. They advanced rapidly, in tw^o lines,
obliquely, upon the left and across the front of the
Brigade, extending towards the right. They advanced
at a charging pace, delivering a very heavy fire as
they advanced. Two companies of the 30th Maine
deployed in the ditch, one in front of that regiment
and the other between and in front of the 162nd and
173d, opened a sharp fire upon the enemy without
checking them in the least. These companies fell
back, one upon its own regiment, and the other,
between the 162nd and 173d. The enemy charged
swiftly down the slope, and commenced crossing the
ditch, striking at some of the skirmishers with the
butts of their muskets. So rapidly did they advance,
that Lieutenant Colonel Blanchard, of the 162nd, who
had gone in front of his regiment to the ditch, for the
purpose of seeing the position of the enemy, had not
time to place himself behind his regiment, before the
brigade line commenced retiring in confusion. The
regiments fell back, beginning with tlie 165th on the

riiilit, tlio l»»-!nd k'ft ceiitiv. the ITod rii-lit centre,
delivering their tire as they fell back." Though com-
pelled by overwhelming numbers to fall back, the
Brigade soon rallied upon General Smith's reserves,
and. in conjunction with them, charged and drove the
enemy to the low ground at the foot of the slope.
Here, re-enforced by another line that advanced from
the woods, the enemy attempted to reform, and
delivered a fire that not only checked our advance,
but to some extent reversed the movement. At this
point the struggle was fearful and the slaughter very
great, and success so ebbed and flowed that the event
seemed doubtful. A movement by another line, the
2nd Brigade, 1st Division 19 th Corps, which advanced
on the right between General Smith's troops and
Battery L, caused complete discomfiture to the enemy
in that part of the field, and so aided the left that the
Eebels were speedily driven over the open ground,
through the woods beyond ; the Brigade pursuing them
some miles, — indeed until darkness stopped further
pursuit.

Another New England man, an officer in one of the
New York Regiments, thus describes the battle from
another stand-point: "The enemy, finding a strong
force on our right and centre, massed a heavy body of
troops on the left, where our Division (1st) lay, and
about 5 p. M. drove in our skirmishers. We imme-

diately lay down and waited for them to come out of
the woods. Just as they got to the edge of them, they
halted and gave a most hideous yell, such as Texan s
and Border ruffians alone can give; thinking that we
would immediately fire and show our position. But
in this they were much mistaken, for we lay still
under cover of the bushes in the valley. At that
moment our Artillery should have commenced firing,
but it did not. Finding that we did not fire, they rushed
out of the woods to the brow of the hill, and poured
tremendous volleys upon us, at the same time rushing
down the hill. Our Brigade poured several into them,
but found them coming in such overwhelming force
that we were obliged to fall back. The second line, see-
ing us coming back in such confusion, began to break,
but the officers succeeded in preserving the line until
a few volleys were fired, when it, and part of the third
line, broke. The Artillery then commenced firing,
and we rallied and immediately formed a new line.
By this time most of the Rebels were out of the woods
and rushing upon us pell-mell. Now it was our time
to have something to say about it. * * '"^ *
Our massed column pressed on and drove the fright-
ened Rebels two miles through the woods. In the
mean time they opened on our right and found more
than they expected there. They charged upon a Bat-
tery and took it, but to their sorrow, for our Infantry

opt'iiod u[H)n tlieiii siuli a tcrriCic cross lire that they
IMI like urnss Ix'lovc the scvtho. and wliat was left fell
baclv. It was now so dark that it was impossible to
distiiiii'uish one side from the other and the fmhtint!;
eased. '•' ''' ''' If they had (ired a little lower
while we were lying in tlie valley, they would have
killed or wounded one half of our Brigade." Another
ollicer. a Captain, says: "While lying down, as we
were ordered to do, whole volleys from the Rebel ranks,
which came upon us five lines deep, yelling furiously,
passed over us, as their aim was too high, and we
could hear the bullets strike the knoll in our rear."

In Major General Franklin's letter, printed in the
Appendix, he whites: "Colonel Benedict came to
m}- Head-Quarters about 12 m., on the 9th, to obtain
permission from General Emory and myself to change
the position of his line ; indicating another, W' hich, in
his opinion, wae stronger and safer. We agreed to
the change and it was made." Some merits of the
new position are developed by the preceding extracts ;
but a further, obvious advantage may be seated :
the whole of the woods in front, and the slope from
them to the ditch at the bottom, were left free and
clear to be shelled hy the Artillery, without the
slightest peril to the Brigade lying in the bushes along
the ditch ; which indeed might have added its own fire
to that of the Artillery. The silence of this Arm at so

critical a moment appears remarkable in the absence
of any explanation of the fact ; and it is not easy to
resist the belief that a main advantage expected
from the change of position was not realized.

The theatre of this battle may be described as a
large open field that had once been cnltivated,
but was then overgrown with weeds and bushes,
many of the latter the red rose of Louisiana. The
moderately elevated centre of the field, from which
the name Pleasant Hill comes, is merely a long
mound or ridge, scarcely entitled to be called a hill,
that, from its crown, descends gently to the ditch of
which mention has been made. Beyond the ditch,
an easy acclivity rises to a belt of timber which
encloses it, semi-circularly, on the side toward Shreve-
port, and out of which the attacking forces came.
The ditch, with its fringe of shrubbery, while it
afibrded some cover, presented little or no obstruction
to the passage of troops. The front of the position,
occupied by Colonel Benedict's Brigade, extended
along this ditch. It was on the Pleasant Hill side of
this shallow valley that the final and decisive fighting
took place. On his way up, this locality had attracted
the Colonel's attention, and he expressed a belief that
tliere the Rebels would be fought; and when some
dissent was expressed, it was afterwards remembered
that he argued the probability almost with vehemence.

Wliethor this impression was merely the result of
his military perci'ptiou of the fitness of the place, or
one of those shadows said to be sometimes projected
by coming events, it is not worth while now to
consider ; but certain it is that he was doomed to
illustrate in his own body the correctness of either
his convictions or his apprehensions.

In the conflict on the slope, and perhaps in the
melee of that critical moment when the reinforced
enemv caused our line to hesitate and even to recoil,
and the fortune of the day seemed doubtful ; when,
by almost superhuman efforts on the part of the
officers, the men were rallied to that frantic charge
which gave victory to the Union Arms and saved its
Army, its Navy and its Jurisdiction in the Southwest,
Colonel Benedict fell.

This at least is the opinion of those, who, from
having seen him alive just before and his dead body
just after, are best c^ualified to judge, but unwearied
diligence has failed to find an eye witness of his fall.
Colonel Fessenden, of 30th Maine, his successor in
command of the Brigade, says : " 1 recollect that, just
as the enemy emerged from the woods, I looked round
and saw the Colonel sitting on his horse, on the brow
of the slope, by the side of his Brigade Color. He
was in full view of the whole attacking line of the
enemy. The Brigade fell back over that slope and I

did not see him afterwards, but understood that he
fell, somewhat in front of, and near the place wdiere
I last saw him." Lieutenant Colonel Blanchard, who
commanded his regiment, 162ud, in the action, states :
" I was engaged in rallying my men, when Colonel
Benedict rode up to me and gave me the following
order : " Colonel, rall}^ your men and advance as
soon as possible," Avhich w^as quickly done. These
Avere the last words I had from him, and it was the
last time I saw him alive. He rode quickly to the
left of the line, and I advanced with the regiment."
Lieutenant Wm. C. Hawses, also of his own regiment,
concurs in opinion as to the time of his fall, and says
further: "Colonel Benedict was w^ounded in the
rio-ht arm, and his horse W' as wounded also ; but he
still pressed on, and in a few moments w^as shot
through the head and died instantly." Captain Samuel
Cowdrey, likewise of his own regiment, referring to
the same time, says : " At this time I did not see the
Colonel ; but from every account he w^as then killed,
at the head of his Brigade, endeavoring to rally the
men. I did not see him fall, but, soon after, I dis-
covered him alone with an Orderly, his head resting
against a stump, and the Brigade Flag a few feet from
him ; and saw that he, whom we all had learned to
love and respect, was no more. Li vain I tried to

arouse him, hoping he might not yet be dead ; iDut,

alas. \\c was uoiu". lie was killed instantaneously,
several Knllets liaviniz piereed liiin."" In point of fact,
lie had reeeived five balls; one through each arm, one
throuiih the rijiht leg above the knee, one through the
left loot, and one through the head. The general
impression ^vas that he had fallen at the time and
under the eireumstances indicated ; and this belief
probably rested upon testimony that, to this hour, has
eluded the search of his friends,

A most discordant result followed this decisive
victory. A retreat, scarcely less precipitate than
might have been enforced by a complete rout, was
imposed on the victorious army. In the judgment of
those who had the right to decide such questions, the
general condition of affairs rerjuired this to be done.
It was only by the prompt activity of Captain Cowdrey,
one of his officers, that his body was rescued from the
field, conveyed to a building, for the time appropriated
to the uses of a hospital, and delivered to the Surgeon in
charge. The transportation of the Division not being
at hand, General Cameron, of the 13th Corps, on the
application of Lieutenant John H. Yan ^Yyck, of the
deceased Colonel's Staff, kindly permitted it to be trans-
ported on one of his wagons, though having urgent need
himself of all the facilities of the kind he possessed for
the purposes of the retreat. Lieutenant Van Wyck

was detailed to deliver it to the family of Colonel
Benedict, which duty he discharged with equal tender-
ness and fidelity.

In anticipation of its arrival, the Common Council
of Albany had appointed a Committee of its members
to receive the remains in New York, convey them to
the city, and order the arrangements for their inter-
ment. In the discharge of this duty, the Committee
returned with the body on Saturday, April 30th; and
in deference to the wishes of his family, laid it in
sorrow in his desolate home, rather than in state at
the Capitol, as had been designed.

Its presence in that house dead, where his advent,
living, had been so long hoped and prayed for, raised
still higher the floodgates of anguish opened by the
intelligence of his death. Some official expressions
of the sympathy felt by the community in the grief
of his family are recorded in the Appendix.

On Monda}?^ the 2nd of May, 1864, his shattered
bod}^, followed by sad hearts and weeping eyes, was
removed from the dwelling of his mother lo the house
of the Lord; whence, after appropriate religious ser-
vices and an elocpient Commemorative Address, with
becoming civic and military honors and many im-
pTom]}tu manifestations of private regard and pul^lic
respect, it was borne on its last earthly pilgrimage to
the Al1)any Cemetery, And there, he was laid, for-

ever to rest, witliin the .shadow ol" his Ihtlier's
iiioiuuiieiit; ixromul him. '' lii.s martial clonk" covered
^^ itli the dust of battle, rent by bullets and stiflened
with his blood.

LINES

ON THE

DEATH OF COLONEL LEWIS BENEDICT.

BY ALFRED B. STREET.

We laid him in his last and patriot rest ;

Dark Death but couched him on Fame's living breast.

We twine the sorrowing cypress o'er his grave,

And let the star-bright banner loftier wave

At mention of his deeds ! In manhood's prime,

Blossom the pinions waved by smiling Time.

He left life's warbling bowers for duty's path,

Where the fierce war-storm flashed its reddest wrath ;

Path proud, though rough. Out rang the trumpet's blast :

" To arms, to arms ! down to the dust is cast

The flag, the dear old flag, by treason's hand ! "

And the deep thundering sound rolled onward through the land.

In the quick throngs of fiery life that rushed

To smite for native land, till wrong was crushed

And right stood planted firm upon its rock,

None rose more glad, none bore the battle shock

More brave; — at blood-stained Williamsburg he drew

First his good sword; his- eagle daring flew

Into the storm so deep, it wrapt him round;

But, scorning still to yield, he strove, till bound

Fast^by the grasp of the admiring foe.

Struggling, though in the toil, still striking blow on blow.

rent in dose prison walls — lonj:. lontr Mack liours,

Yet the strong, skyward-pinioned spirit cowers

To naught ; that steel-nerved will the loftier towers,

Treading the painful thorns like pleasant flowers.

Free once again. War's trumpet-clangors ring

The warrior to the birthplace of the Spring,

Where the stern Mississippi sea-like sweeps

To summer flowers, pine cones of wintry steeps.

Into Death's eyes -again he fixed his gaze;

Lo, where Port Hudson's deadly batteries blaze,

Whose that tall form that towers when all lie low,

Brow to the sun and bosom to the foe ?

Brow to the sun, his brave sword in his hand,

Pointing "There — up and onward, patriot band!"

Again I red batteries hurling awful hail

Like the fierce sleet that loads the thundering gale.

Ranks crushed beneatb showered shot and shell, like grain

By that same sleet, across the heaped-up plain

Full in the fort's hot, gaping hell, he leads

His stormers : Slaughter drives his flashing; steeds,

Trampling broad lanes amid the serried might,

But on, bathed deep in battle's awful light,

On that tall form, with lightnings all around;

Firm his proud step along the streaming ground,

Quaking with cannon-thunders; up his tread —

Up to the parapet, above his head

The starry flag borne by a hand that falls

Death-struck ; he grasps the flag — the rebel walls

See the waved stars in that strong clutch, till back

The ebbing conflict drajrs him in its track.

Once more in other scenes he meets the foe.
O'ermatched, our columns stagger to their blow;
Yain on their squares bold Emory's files ai*e hurled;
Backward the dashing cataract is whirled,

Splintered to spray ; Oli. banner of the skies,

Flag of tlie rising constellations — dyes

Of dawn not sunset — shalt thou trail in dust?

Shall blind, dead darkness hide our blazing trust !

On, braves I but no — they pause — they reel — they break!

Now like some towering crag no storm can shake —

Like some tall pine that soars when all the wood

Bows to the winds — some rock amid the flood —

Our hero stands; he forms each tottering square.

Through them the blazing thunderbolts may tear,

But vain; — the bulwark stands, a living wall,

Between the foeman and that banner's fall.

Then, the dread last — oh, woful, woful day !

Ah, the dinamed glory of that trophied frtiy !

Ah, the fell shadow of that triumph's ray I

Hurling the foeman's might back, back, at last

Onward he sweeps — on, on, as sweeps the blast !

On through the keen, red, hissing air — ah, wo,

That ruthless fate should deal such cruel blow !

On, through the keen, red, hurtling air — but see

^hat form — it reels — it sinks 1 that heart, so free

To dare the battle-tempest's direst might.

Winged with the quick, fierce lightning of the fight,

x\nd soarir^g through the victory's gladdening light,

Up to untroubled realms, hath passed in instant flight !

Death, where he fell, in roses red iuurned'-

His form — war's hue and love's — and they were turned

To laurels at the touch, and one green twine

From them the laud hath wrought to deck the hero's shrine.

He fell in conflict's fiercest, wildest flame ;
And now his loved and laurelled ashes claim
Our heartfelt sorrow ! for among the brave,

1 Colonel Benedict fell literally on a bed of crimson roses — the wild Louisiana rose.

'.>::!

None liravor ; ;iinl wlu'ii liattle loi't his 0}e,

xSouc softer ! liot tlio stricken Nation sigh

For siifh as lio who ju'iish by (lio way,

Whik> up oil c-riiuson I'rct »^he toils to greet the day.

Ah. tlie briglit liuur he came, though weak and low
With prison languors ! Cheerily on were borne
The merry clang of the bells; clang, clang, they rang!
Joy in our hearts in jocund music sprang !
And all shone pleasureful. One long, long toll,
One long, deep lingering sound that tells the goal
Of some spent life, then moans along the air
As sorrowing hands our hero's ashes bear
To lie in honored state. AA'^e saw his form
Sprinkled with blossoms breathing fresh and warm;
That form so still, so peaceful to our gaze,
That soared so grand amid the battle's blaze.
Scorning the shrieking shell, the whizzing ball,
Sleeping so still beneath his warrior-pall.

We bore him to his sylvan home; there flowers

Should o'er him smile ; but chief, the oak, that towers

Unbent by blasts, and breaks but to the dart

Of the red bolt, from that heroic heart

Should spring ; for, mid his kindly graces soared

A firm-knit will — a purpose strong, that warred

In deep disdain of Fortune's fitful breath,

And only bowed its rock-clutched strength to Death.

There shall he lie. When our new kindled sun

Shall dawn, his first rejoicing rays shall run

In gold o'er gi-aves like his — Fame's gold — that Time

Shall brighten — and his monument sublime.

Oh seek it not in stone, but in piled hearts

That loved him I the carved marble soon departs.

But the heart's token, sent through ages down,

Warm in its living might, mocks Time's most withering frown.

Blessed is he who suffers ; ^ and we know
A solemn joy, that one whose manhood's glow
Faded so soon, should die to mark how grand
Above all fleeting life, to die for Native Land.

1 Benedictus qui patitur. Motto of the Benedict Family.

APPENDIX

EXPRESSIONS OF THE PUBLIC PRESS.

\_Neiv Orleans Era.'\

Remains of Colonel Benedict.

The corpse of the brave Colonel Benedict is now in
this city. Of the vast number of officers and men that fell
in this terrible conflict, none will be more gratefully remem-
bered by his country. He died like a hero at his post,
while gallantly leading his Brigade against the enemy.

[Buffalo Uxpress.']

Colonel Lewis Benedict, 162d jST. Y.

In the list of the killed at the late battle on the Red
River is the name of Lewis Benedict, a man widely known
and well loved throughout this State — the second son of
the late Lewis Benedict, Esq., of Albany. Colonel Bene-
dict entered the army at the outbreak of the Rebellion, as
Lieut. Col. in Sickles' Brigade. AVliile leading his raw
regiment, sword in hand, into its first fight at Williams-
burg, he was taken prisoner, and underwent a long
confinement in the horrible Libby Prison. After his
liberation, he was appointed Colonel of the 162d i^. Y.

A'ols., iiiul lias siiu'i' scTNX'd in J.ouisiana. Tlio deatli of
tliis ainia1)li\ taU'iitod, Itravo man and patriotic soldier,
Avill carrv i^rict" into an cxtonsivo taniilv circle, of wliicli
lie was the idol. Xo better or bra\ er man lias laid down
Ins life for his country than the Albany boy, "Lew.
Benedict." Peace to his ashes ! He met the death he
most coveted — fell lighting for freedom. Let the patriotic
men of his native city rear a fitting monument to the
memory of one of its most chivalric sons.

\_Nexo York 7V/6««e.]

Colonel Benedict,

Among the good and true men whose lives have been
freely given to save their country from disruption and
overthrow, scarcelj- one has been or will be more justly or
deeply deplored than Col. Lewis Benedict of Albany,
who fell pierced with five bullets and lifeless while com-
manding and leadins: the left wino* of the Union armv at
the battle of Pleasant Hill, L^pper Louisiana, on the 9th
inst. Col. Benedict was the son of the eminent merchant
of like name recentlv deceased, after an active and influ-
ential career of half a centuiy. His son, who inherited
much of the father's eminent ability and positive, down-
right character, volunteered for the War soon after the
Rebels fired on Fort Sumter — aiding to recruit and disci-
pline the Sickles Brigade — and has ever since been in
active service. He was wounded and taken prisoner in
the "hottest forefront of the battle " at Williamsburg, two
years ago. Transferred to the Gulf, he there evinced
talent and energy that commended him to the favor of his
Commanding General, so that, though ranking as a Colo-
nel, he commanded a brigade when he met death in the

desperate but glorious battle of Pleasant Hill. It -will
somewhat console Ms many devoted friends to know that
he did not fall till the sunlight of victory was gleaming on
our charging columns, so that his last look of earth turned
with pride as well as affection to the flag and the land for
which, in his early prime, he joyfully laid down his life.

[_N'ew York Commercial Advertiser.']

OBITUARY.

Col. Lewis Benedict, 162d ISTew York Volunteers.

The advices from I^ew Orleans give a partial list of the
killed and wounded in the battles in Western Louisiana.
Among the best known names is that of Col. Lewis
Benedict, of the 162d j^ew York Volunteers.

CoL. Benedict, who was a son of the late Lewis Benedict,
of Albany, was born in 1817. He graduated at Williams
College, and practised law in Albany. In 1861 he was a
member of the Legislature, and in the Summer of that
year entered the army as Lieut. Col. of the Fire Zouaves.
At the battle of Williamsburg he was distinguished for
bravery, and was taken prisoner. He entered that battle
almost helpless from a sprained ankle, and leaning on the
arm of an Orderly. A confinement of three months fol-
lowed in the prison-house of Richmond and Salisbury,
when he was finally exchanged, and was one of the officers
that received an ovation in ISTew York with Col. Corcoran.

In the Fall of 1862, Col. Benedict was appointed to the
command of the 162d IsTew York A^'olunteers, which went
out with the Banks Expedition. In the battles of the
Department of the Gulf Col. Benedict has been conspi-
cuous, and he has always borne the reputation of a brave

soldier and ;iii lU't-'oiniilishcd ollicer. On tlie 14th of June
last, he comniandod a rn-iii-adc whieli made an attack on
Port Uudson. Ai tlu- storming of Tort Hudson, he and
Col. Birge were designated as leaders of the Forlorn Hope.
For some time past he has commanded the 3d Brigade of
the 1st DiN-ision of the 19th Army C(3rps. In every
capacit}' Col. Benedict has nobly acquitted himself, fully
securing the tardy recognition of merit that, in many other
instances, was all too swift to fall upon the undeserving.
The country which mourns the loss of so many precious
lives has need of such soldiers as Col. Benedict.

^Albany Evening Journal.']

Death of Col. Lewis Benedict,

The reported death of Col. Lewis Benedict is confirmed
by letters froni. Grand Ecore, near the scene of the engage-
ment. He was pierced by five balls, and instantly killed,
while gallantly leading his Brigade in the final charge,
!N^o braver man ever lived, and he died, as he wished to
die, fighting for the Old Flag, with his face to the foe.

Lewis Benedict was born in Albany, Sept, 2d, 1817,
He graduated at Williams College, and studied law, in
Canandaigua, with John C, Spencer. After his admission
to the bar, he became a partner of Marcus T, Reynolds, in
this city. He was Judge Advocate General in the Stafi' of
Govs, Young and Fish; was subsequently elected to the
oflice of Surrogate of the Count}^, and also to the Assembly
of the State,

When the War first broke out, he was still engaged in
the practice of the Law, but, determining to give his service
to his countiw, in .June, 1861, he was commissioned as
Lieut, Col. of the 73d Regt., Excelsior Brigade, with which

regiment he went into the Peninsular campaign, shared its
earher hardships and fought bravely at Williamsburg,
where he was captured. He was taken to Eichmond,
where, and at Salisbury, N". C, he was the companion of
Cols. Corcoran, Wilcox, &c.

After an imprisonment of several months, he was ex-
changed, and, in September, 1862 (one month after his
exchange), he was commissioned Colonel of the 162d (3d
Metropolitan) Regiment.

In October the Regiment proceeded to l!^ew Orleans, but,
owing to various mishaps to the fleet, it did not reach the
city until in December.

In January, 1863, he was designated Acting Brigadier,
and, in that capacity, was actively employed, rendering
important service previous to the siege of Port Hudson,
where he was conspicuous in most of the terrible fights
during that memorable siege. He was foremost in the
fearful slaughter of June 14, and when it was decided to
storm the fort. Col. Benedict was given command of the
2d Battalion selected to serve as the " Forlorn Hope."
This selection was a tribute to his coolness and courage,
and marked the estimation in which he was held by the
General in command.

From that time forward, he has followed Gen. Banks
through all his marches and victories. His last command,
the 3d Brigade of the 1st Division and 19th Corps, was
composed of the 116th, 162d, and 165th iST. Y., two Maine
Regiments, and an Independent Battery. Ko brigade
fought more courageously, or did more to turn the tide of
battle. Wlien its commander fell, the country lost one of
its noblest soldiers, and the Brigade an ofificer whom they
were proud to follow.

Col. Benedict was a man of noble and o-enerous im-
pulses. He loved his country with an intensity which
forbade hesitation or compromise when its integrity or

loo

fi^lorv was involved. And ho was as brave as lio was
patriotic. No man ever prt)l»al)l_\ knew less of the sensa-
tion of fear. Those who liave been with liini on tlie liehl,
speak of bis bravery witli enthusiasm, and refer to bis
cabnness in tlie lieat of battle with admiration. He had,
in the highest degree,- all the elements of a hero, combined
with the still greater qualities of a cool, safe and thoughtful
leader in the deadly strife.

The death of Col. Benedict is a sad blow to his sorrow-
ing relatives, and tlieir grief will be shared by all who
knew the deceased. But they have this consolation, that
he died in the hour of Victory, at the head of his brave
Brigade, while pursuing the retreating enemy. His name
will go down to posterity among those who have given
their lives to their Country, and his memory will ever be
fragrant with those who appreciate true courage and
exalted patriotism.

Death of Col. Lewis Benedict.

The rumor of Saturday, which pierced so many hearts,
finds painful confirmation in to-day's intelligence. Col.
Lewis Benedict, acting as Brigadier General, fell at the
head of his Troops in the disastrous Battle of Pleasant
Hill.

This blow falls heavily upon a bereaved Mother, Bro-
thers and Sisters, and grieves a large circle of warmly
attached Friends. Col. Benedict, second son of the late
Lewis Benedict, was " native," and to this " Manor born."
Patriotic and chivalrous, in sentiment and impulses, when
the Rebellion broke out, he tendered his services and — as
the sequel proves — his life to his Country. In the early
part of the War he was a Prisoner for several months in
North Carolina.

Soon after his exchange he was promoted to the com-

101

mand of the 162cl Regiment, with which he has done duty
for a year in Louisiana. He was engaged in the assault
upon Port Hudson, where his Regiment suffered severely.
And now, having " fought his last battle," he has gone,
where so many gallant Albanians have preceded him, to
his final Review,

\_A(las and Arffus-I

Death of Col. Lewis Benedict.

We forebore to speak of the death of Col. Benedict
while the event was in doubt. An officer of the same name
was in ser^dce in the West, and this had before been the
source of some confusion. The sad event is confirmed,
however, by details too clear to afford hope of mistake.
The account of the third day's fight, on the Red River, says :

" Our left, CoL. Benedict's Brigade, came into action
first, and soon after our right and centre were engaged.
The battle now raged fiercely, the air was full of lead and
iron, and the roar of musketry and artillery incessant.
The carnage on both sides was fearful, the men fighting
almost hand to hand, and with great desperation. iSTothing
could exceed- the determined bravery of our troops ; but
it was evident Emory's Division was fighting the whole
Army. Pressed at all points by overwhelming numbers,
our hue fell back up the hill to the 16th Corps, which was
concealed just behind the crest.

" Taylor's Battery for a time fell into the hands of the
enemy.

" Gen. Smith made all preparations to receive the advanc-
ing foe, and, as the human tide came rolling up the hill, he
looked quietly on until the enemy were almost up to the

102

muzzle of his gnus, when a sheet of flame flashed along
liis lines, and, with the crash of \vn thousand thunders,
musket halls mingled with grape and canister swept the
plain liki' a besom of destruction. Hundreds fell dead
and dvinjx before that awful fire.

" Scarcely had the seethins; lead left the guns when the
word " charge " was given, and seven thousand brave men
precipitated themselves upon the shattered ranks of the
enemy. Emory's Division, which had only pelded to
superior numbers and remained unbroken, now rushed
forward and joined the 16th Corps, driving the rebels
rapidly down the hill to the woods, where they broke and
fled in the greatest confusion and dismay,

" Col. Benedict, ichile gallantly leading his brigade in the
charge, fell dead, jnerced by jive balls.

" The battle was fought and the victory won. Our trooj)s
followed up the rebels until night put an end to the pursuit."

The account goes on to say that " our victorious army
slept on the battle field, which was one of the most glorious
of the war."

Among those who thus slept — never more to wake — was
Col. Lewis Bexedict, commandino^ 3d Brigade, 1st Divi-
sion, 19th Corps. He was acting as Brigadier General, and
his name was before the Senate for promotion to that grade.

Col. Benedict had, while quite young, been Surrogate
of Albany county, which he had also represented in the
Assembly. He was a successful lawyer, and might have
found, in ci\'il and political life, ample opportunities of
advancement. He had identified himself with the militia
of the State — in the Burgesses Corps, and the Albany
Cavalry, which latter he first organized — and when the
civil war broke out, his inclination as well as his sense of
duty and the fervor of his political sentiments called him
into the seiwice. He was eminently suited to this career.
A fine person, a vigorous frame, the habit of command, a

103

gallant demeanor, and honorable ambition, formed the
elements of Ms success and advancement.

Once in, he never turned back. The death of his father
left him an adequate fortune, but he cast it aside to pursue
the fortunes of war. He was wounded, was for six months
a prisoner, suffering severe privations and dangers even
then, and was struck down with malaria and all but
wrecked in health ; but none of these things daunted his
spirit. He might have sought and found inglorious ease
in civil life, or in some semi-mihtary appointment remote
fi^om danger. He preferred a soldier's grave !

Upon that grave, when he is gathered among his kins-
men and fellow citizens, many a tear will be shed, and
many a flower will be cast by hands that once clasped
his in youthful friendship or in the glow of generous
manhood.

l^Albani/ Morning Express.'\

Col. Lewis Benedict Reported Killed.

Our citizens were startled Saturday afternoon at the
announcement that Col. Lewis Benedict, of this city, was
killed in one of the recent battles in the Red River country.
Col. B. was in command of the 3d Brigade, 1st Division
19th Army Corps, and in the terrible and decisive battle of
Pleasant Hill, when the Rebels were so signally defeated
with frightful slaughter, held the left of the line. Accord-
ing to the accounts received, his Brigade first engaged the
enemy, and, although no particulars of his death have been
received, it is probable he met a soldier's fate early in the
fight.

Col. Benedict, Gen. Sickles says, was as brave a soldier
as there was in the Army. Where danger was the most

iU4

imininont there coulil he he I'ouml ill the moment oi" peril,
cheerina: his men to the performance of their duty, and by
his own intrepidity and fearlessness setting an example
of devotion to country and patriotism, that his men felt
proud to emulate. lie was beloved and respected by
officers and men alike, and tliere will be no more sincere
mourners in the circle of his home acquaintances than can
be found in the ranks of the Brigade over which he acted
as Commandant,

Col. Benedict was a lawyer by profession, and aban-
doned it to enter the Army, accepting the Lt. Colonelcy of
the 73d Regt. jS". Y. S. Y., Excelsior Brigade. He served
one term as Surrogate of the County, and represented the
Second District of the Countj^ in the Legislature of 1861.
After being admitted as a lawyer he became jmiior partner
of the then well-known firm of Reynolds & AVoodrufi' —
Marcus T. Reynolds and Samuel M. AYoodruif — taking
the entire charge of the office or j^ractice business. It was
at this time that the writer commenced the study of the
law, acting as clerk to the late Col. B., and being asso-
ciated ^^^th him several years. He w^as, formerly, a promi-
nent T\Tiig politician, and of late years, was a member of
the Republican party. He was, for many years, one of the
most active members of the old Burgesses Corps, and was
one of the founders of the Citv Cavalrv, an oro;anizatiou,
at one time, second to no other of the kind in the State.
He was perfectly conversant with military tactics when he
entered the army, and soon became distinguished in the
brigade as one of its most competent officers.

The news of his death, of wdiich we regret to say we
fear there can be slight doubt, will be received with sorrow
and sadness by his very many friends in this cit)- not only,
but in different sections of the State. He was a man of
e:enerous impulses and fine mental acquirements. He was
a warm friend, and in his deahngs with his fellows, was

105

ever the gentleman. By Ms deatli tlie country lias lost a
gallant officer. Rest to liis spirit.

\_Alhan)j Knickerbocker .'\

Death of Col. Lew Benedict.

The telegraph, on Saturday, brought the sad intelligence
that Col. Lew Benedict, of this city, was among the slain
at the battle in Western Louisiana. It was sorrow^ful news
indeed. But few men were better known in Albany than
CoL. Benedict. It was the home of his birth, his boyhood
and riper years. ~Eo man was more loved, esteemed and
respected than our departed friend. He was frank, noble,
generous — attributes that attached to him many warm and
devoted friends who will mourn his loss. Col. Benedict
was a thoroughly educated and accomplished gentleman.
He graduated at Williams College, studied Law in this city
with Marcus T. Reynolds, held the offices of City Attorney,
Surrogate and Member of Assembly, and was honored
with the nomination of Recorder and many other places by
his party. He was among the first on the breaking out of
the Rebellion to offer his services to the Government. In
the campaign on the Peninsula, at the terrible slaughter at
Williamsburg, Col. Benedict was made prisoner, and for
nearly a year was confined in the Libby Prison. Xo sooner
was he paroled and exchanged than he again entered the ser-
vice, and has been one of Gen. Banks' most true and tried
officers in the campaign in Louisiana. He took an active
part in the reduction of Port Hudson ; twice he led his
Brigade up to " the jaws of death." The men under him
believed that he " bore a charmed life " and could not be
struck with rebel missiles, so bold, daring and reckless was
he in the hour of danger. The Army had few braver men
than Col. Lew Benedict.

100

\^Standard and Statesman.']

Death or Col. Lew Benedict.

It is with heartfelt sorrow that we announce the death
of Col. Lew Benedict. He was killed on the Red River
while o-allantly fiirhtino^in defence of the Old Flas;. Colo-
NEL Benedict was one of the most popular young men ever
born in this city. He was a man of large talent, large
heart and generous sentiment. He has held the office of
member of Assembly, Surrogate, Alderman, &c. He
made a splendid officer — cool, daring and effective. The
service could not have sustained a more serious loss.

[TVmfs and Courier.]

Death of Col. Lewis Benedict.

Among the victims of the recent battles on the Red
River, we are grieved to find the name of our well-known
townsman. Col. Lewis Benedict, of the 162d Xew York.
CoL. Benedict entered the service shortly after the break-
ing out of the "War, and, with the exception of a brief
furlough to recruit his shattered health after his long
imprisonment at Salisbury, was constantly engaged in
active duty up to the time of his death. Shortly after his
release from imprisonment, he went to New Orleans with
the Banks expedition, and participated in all the hardships,
perils and glories of the army of the Southwest. He leaves
a ^^'ide circle of sorrowing friends by whom his memory
will be preserved for his pati'iotism, his bravery, his suffer-
ing, and his final death in the cause of his country.

107

PROCEEDINGS IN REGARD TO THE

FUNERAL.

Common Council.

Monday, April, 25, 8, p.m.

Present — Aids. Amsdell, Barliydt, Corning, Cowell,
Gould, Johnson, Kennedy, McCarty, McCollum, Mclntyre,
Mulcaliy, Nolan, Orr, Quinn, Reynolds, Rodgers, Sill,
Tracey, Wilson. In tlie absence of tlie Mayor and Re-
corder Alderman Johnson was chosen to preside.

Alderman Rods-ers offered the following Resolution :

JResolved, That his Honor the Mayor appoint a committee
of three for the purpose of making and perfecting all
arrangements necessary to pay due honors and respect to
the remains of Colonel Lewis Benedict (who fell in lead-
ing his Brigade in the late battle of Red River) on their
arrival in Albany.

Adopted.

And Aids. Rodgers, Gould and Sill were appointed.

Head-quarters Twenty-fifth Regiment
N. Y. S. N. G. Albany, April 30, 1864.

}

General Orders, No. 5.

The Colonel commanding is pained to announce to his
command the death of another gallant officer, Col. Lewis
Benedict, of the 162d New York Volunteers, who fell at
the post of duty as Acting Brigadier General in the late
disastrous battle on the Red River.

Col, Benedict, formerh' a Captain in our Regiment,
like our former Colonels, Frisby and Bryan, and scores of

108

other bravo officers, formerlv iiioinbors of the Twenty-fifth
Regiment, has given liis life to his country and we are
now called upon to pay to his remains the last tribute of
respect due to a fellow-soldier.

He was able, generous and l)rave as the bravest. In
honor of Ids memory, the Regiment is hereby ordered to
assemble at the Armory, on ^Monday, ^lay 2d, 1864, at 1
o'clock, fully armed and equipped, to attend his Funeral
and escort his remains to their last resting place.

The Colonel most earnestly enjoins upon the Command-
ants of Companies to use every eifort to appear with full
ranks. It is due to the deceased as a 'chivalrous and gal-
lant patriot and as our former associate.

By order of CoL. "Walter S. Church.

J. M. Kimball, Adjutant.

ORDER OF ARRxVNGEMENTS

Of the Funeral Ceremonies of the Late Col. Benedict, to
take place this afternoon, May 2.

ORDER OF PROCESSION.

Police, under command of Chief Johnson.

schrieber's band.

25tli Regiment, National Guard, State of X. Y., Col. Church.

HEARSE.

Flanked by Company A, Capt. Pochin, as Guard of Honor.

Relatives of deceased.

Military Mourners — Officers of 10th Regiment,iSr.Y.S.KG.,

and Officers of U. S. Volunteers.

Governor and Staff.

State Officers.

Mayor and Common Council.

BRIGADE BAXD.

Fire Department, under Chief McQuade.

Ci^'ic Societies.

Citizens.

109

The 25tli Regiment will form on Chapel street, left rest-
ing on Maiden Lane.

Military mourners will form in Pine st., right on Chapel.

The Fire Department vnW form on Pine street, left of
military mourners.

The Civic Societies will report to the Grand Marshal, at
1 o'clock, p. M.

The Procession will move precisely at 2 p. m., from the
Second Presbyterian Church, down Chapel to State street,
down State to jS'orth Pearl, up Korth Pearl to Clinton Ave-
nue, thence to Broadway, up Broadway to the north bounds
of the city, where carriages and cars will be in waiting.
By order of Col. "Walter S. Church,

Grand Marshal.

Proceedings ix the Supreme Court.

Albany General Term of the Supreme Court, May 2, 1864. —
Present, Hons. R. W. Peckham, Theodore Miller and
Charles R. Ingalls, Justices.

Judge Wright, of Albany, addressed the Court as follows :

3Iay it please the Court — I rise to make a motion in rela-
tion to an event which has already been announced by the
public journals, — an event which has caused as deep a
sensation of sorrow, and as profound a regret, as any
other of a similar character which has affected this com-
munity since the commencement of this unholy, and
accursed Rebellion.

This is not the first, nor the second time that the Bar of

this City has been called on to manifest its respect for those

who have gone forth to battle for their Country, and to

sympathize with the friends of those who have fallen in its

defense.

Among tlio gallant and patriotic men of onr own circle
who have fallen, none occupied a. higher position, none
presented a stronger claim for our respect and admiration
than Col. Lewis Benedict, whose funeral obsequies are
this day to be solemnized by a sympathizing and grateful
community.

I knew the deceased as a student at Law. I knew him
as a practitioner after his admission to the Bar ; and since
the commencement of this war I have known him as a
brave and gallant soldier, fighting for the preservation of
that Constitution, and that Union, which we all so dearly
cherish. In all these relations I have respected and
honored him. But on this occasion, it is to the unselfish
and patriotic sacrifice of his life to aid in the salvation
of his country, that I especially refer. Upon these quali-
ties I will not now dwell. I trust that another and more
fitting opportunity will be afforded to the Albany Bar, to
express their high appreciation of his character as a man,
and their unqualified admiration of his gallant bearing,
and chivalrous character as an officer.

I beg leave to submit the following Resolution, and

request that it be entered on the minutes of the Court :

Resolved. That this Court do now adjourn, in order to give its
members, and the members of the Bar in attendance thereon, an
opportunity to unite in the funeral ceremonies of CoL. Lewis
Benedict, who lately fell in the State of Louisiana, whilst gallantly
leading the brigade he commanded to battle and to victory, to
sustain the Constitution, and to preserve the LTnion.

]Mr. Justice Peckham, the presiding Judge, after some

impressive remarks, expressive of his high appreciation of

the character of Col. Benedict, as a citizen and a soldier,

stated that the Court concurred in the propriety of the

resolution, and directed it to be entered on the minutes,

and adjourned the Court accordingly.

WOEDS SPOKEiT AT THE OBSEQUIES

OF THE

LATE COLONEL LEWIS BENEDICT.

BY THE REV. C. D. W. BKIDGMAN.

An unusual occasion has opened these doors, which turn
to only sacred uses, and drawn us to this house of prayer.
Flags waving so lowly from every staif — the martial tramp
of those who gather in the street below to a solemn and
impressive ceremonial -^ this vast assembly, of aspect so
grave and sad — the group which set apart, fenced in by
thoughts and griefs into which only the omniscient One can
look — the mournful strains of the choir, intermingled
with the pathetic, beseeching, but submissive lament of the
organ, as though itself felt an agony and at the same time
an inspiration from the Comforter : all indicate that calamity
has fallen here — that an overwhelming sorrow has burst
upon us, the waves of which ^an be rolled back only by
Him whose presence so often is invoked in this holy place.

A man has fallen whom most of you well knew : gifted
and generous, honorable and brave — an honored son of
this ancient capital, whose family name is written high on
the roll of her citizens — a brother of ours, in whom the
natural elements of manliness were mingled in due propor-
tion, and who, through his maturing years, swept a wide
circle of influence in this city and State — a soldier worthy
of his name, and the record of whose fidelity to duty, of
sacrifices cheerfully endured for our common weal, is his

11-^

coiniuniuliiig- c\:\\\\\ to he assoeintod with the accomphshed
lieroes wlioni onv tild, iiiipi rial Stair has freely otlbred to
tlu' liazards ot" tliis great struggle, and whose blood has
been the price of her self-renouncing devotion.

Of Lewis Bexedict, whose eniptj- tabernacle lies here
before us — emptied of all that gave it comeliness and made
it dear — let me speak in but few words : not in the style of
impassioned panegyric, as when the Athenian father pro-
nounced the oration over his son who liad fought valiantly in
the battle, but with the brevity befitting one who forms
his estimate only from the testimony of others, and ^vith
the soberness which ever becomes us in the sanctuary of
God and in the presence of death.

Born in this city, of a pure and honored parentage, his
youth was full of grace and duty, and expressed, in con-
stant testimony, the rare devoteduess of his filial love.
Earnest in his studies as he was zealous and enterprising in
the amusements wdiich relieved his sober pursuits, he was
soon prepared for a higher instruction than our city afforded,
and, at an early age, w^as registered as a student in Wil-
hams College. Shaping his course with care and energy,
he was honorably graduated in the year 1837, and returned
three years thereafter to deliver the Master's oration.
Devoting himself to the profession of law, he entered upon
its study in the ofiice of the late Mr. Spencer, with the same
ardor of pursuit as when he seized the prizes in our
Academy and earned the honors" in his collegiate career.

Shortly afterward, he became associated with a gentle-
man then in the zenitli of his professional fame and intel-
lectual vigor, and was elevated at once to a position in the
profession not attained, perhaps, as often as it is deserved.
But, having risen to this height, and given such promise
of a brilliant career, and being possessed of a sufficient
inheritance, his former stimulus seems to have failed him ;
and, where others regarded the profession as an agency for

the accumulation of wealth or winning a wide^ enduring
fame, lie looked upon it rather as a manual of intellectual
exercise. Turning his thoughts, at this time, from subjects
purely legal, he engaged himself in the study of those poli-
tical questions which were then commanding the popular
attention, and, by a diligent reading, fortified in him those
principles his father had so faithfully adhered to and
defended, and which have become the controlling princi-
ples in our national policy. Though possessed of a highly
cultivated taste, that was shocked by rude appeals — with
a mind enriched by a varied reading and observation, and by
intercourse with refined society at home and abroad — there
was that social, generous nature underneath which toned
away the scholar's dignity and gave such an easy grace to
every accomplishment as that they interposed no barrier
between himself and the humblest one he knew. Of such
easy access, so cordial in his treatment of all, it is not strange
that soon he should have been appealed to by his political
friends to serve for their candidate, nor that from this time
he should be met less often in the forum than in the arenas
where public questions furnish the themes of debate, and
political action becomes definitely determined. With a
varied fortune, he continued the career thus opened to him,
until the nation's hour of peril came ; and, when the alarm-
trumpet was sounded, waking us all from our dull, strange
apathy, it fell on his quick ear as an imperative summons
that he could not shut out.

Upon the adjournment of the Legislature of which he was
then a member, he gave himself, with the devotion his later
life so constantly illustrates, to the service of his country.
The cause that then seemed to him — as it now seems to
all — the cause of human liberty, engaged his earnest acti-
vities ; and, to serve it intelligently and well, in the only way
our enemies permitted, he strove, by a diligent study, to
prepare himself for the duties of the position to which he

was vAv\y roinmissioiiocl. 'I'lu' old stiiiiiiliis asi'aiii is felt —
his Ibnnor habits arc revived, W'ritinj;- to liis father, with
rotereiu-e to this, ho says: " T liavc followed your advice
about t*tudy, or rather I anticipated it, for since my deter-
mination was formed to take an active pftrt in tlie Avar, I
have felt that one assuming any command incurs a grave
responsibility."

N'ot from hasty impulse did he gird on the harness of
the soldier — not from a blind frenzy, or feverish ambition ;
but as one who detected the deep meanings of this strug-
gle, and whose soul was afire with love and duty, toward
our Government and liberties. Cheerfully he threw his
life into the struggle, without a scruple — with the ancient,
judging it sweet and decorous to die, if need be, for his
country's safety. As an expression of the sentiment that
ruled him, let me read to you an extract from a letter to
his mother, written whilst the siege of Yorktown was in
progress; " I am pained to learn that so much apprehen-
sion for my safety is mingled with the gratification you feel
at my being in a position to do service to my country.
I know it is impossible for a mother to forget her son ; but
I would, if I could, insjDire you with the pride I feel in
devoting my life to the cause of Freedom and the Union.
Thus far, though I have endeavored to do, as far as my
frail nature would permit, my duty to man " — and the
truth of this, his carefulness for the interests of his men
most constantly aifirms — "I know I have not forgotten
myself as I should in many instances have done ; but, in the
struggle to be soon inaugurated here, the opportunity will
be given me to furnish unmistakable evidence that I am
animated by the noblest sentiments — that I can resign life,
which I love, that my country may again enjoy the bless-
ings of peace and the development of its beneficent prin-
ciples of government. Politically acting, I have sought its
weal — personally, my life belongs to it in its woe : so that

115

I view the result of the battle with complacency. If I
survive — as I hope I will — no fortunes in future life can
destroy my consciousness of having periled life for right ;
and, if I fall, through all the grief which you and our dear
ones will feel, will breathe the consolation that I was a
soldier, fighting in a just cause. Let that feeling, dear
mother, console you, as it reconciles me to the chances of
this war."

What patriot ever has penned nobler words than these ?
Who among us has risen to a more illustrious height of
patriotic devotion? Above the voices of home and
congenial companionships he hears the awful trump of
duty, and that is the incitement by which he marches —
the imperious summons to self-renunciation, and possibly
to death. Shortly after those words were traced, he was
taken a prisoner ; but returned from the enemy's hands
only to give himself anew for the work to which he had
given himself with so entire a consecration. Although
greatly impaired in health, he accepts a new command,
and leaves again for a more distant field, where he is
called on to assume a larger responsibility than is strictly
involved with his commission. But his intelligence and
wisely-regulated zeal, and subsequent successes, attest
that the honor was properly awarded, and attracts the fre-
quent commendations of those above him in the command.
In charge of the brigade to which he was assigned, he
was engaged in that — thus far — unfortunate expedition,
wherein so many have made their final sacrifice; and,
while gallantly leading it against the enemy on the third
day of that fierce struggle, he fell — passing away in one
swift pain — another victim in this awful strife.

So suddenly this light is quenched, and our glowing
hopes transformed to sad remembrances ! So suddenly
is the voice of mournino- wakened in the home where
so recently it had been stilled, as the son goes from

IIG

mortal followsliip to rojoin the father, in the silent land.
Ilis ouloijv niav not lie ■\vovcn from these simiiK', hurried
words of mine, hut from these siii'nals of the ijeueral woer
Ft is the silent homaii;e to liis worth of which this concourse
is the devout expression — it is the unhounded confidence
and love of his companions in arms, and their pathetic
testimony to his merits as a man and soldier — it is the
memories cherished in the grateful hearts of those who
knew him best, of how tenderly he fulfilled the offices of
sou and hrotlier, and with what generous action he
responded ever to the calls of outward need and suffer-
ing. On this bright spring day when nataire is speaking
only of renewal, we mourn him as among our early dead.
The l)attle was soon over with him — the contest and
assault — the pain and the privation — the weary marches
and vigils of the night ; and, with these sprinkled flowers
upon his breast, we bear him hence, from the cross to the
sepulchre, and sufl:er it to fold him in forever from our
mortal sight. Such as this are our sacrifices, beloved —
but they are our glories, too. Fidelity to our convictions
and li^dng as we believe, at whatever cost of substance or
existence, are the only glories we are equal to ; and he has
but lowly views of the grand meanings of human life who
weighs comfort or fortune or peace for a moment in the
scale with honor and duty and the public weal. AVhat is
your flesh and blood or mine in comparison with loyalty
to principle? "Wliat is your life or mine compared with
the integrity of a nation into which have been garnered
the hopes of humanity, and which alone among the nations
is the city of refuge from ancient tyranny ? But for more
than for national integrity are these young lives, so full of
glowing promises, laid down in sacrifice. If this were all,
then Denmark may give the same emphasis to the calls
upon her youth to-day as America to hers. But the Pro^n-
dence that has controlled our movements and shaped our

117

policy by his superior intention, has made our cause
identical with the cause of human freedom, and hound
inclissolubly together the patriots' self-surrender and the
philanthropists' self-sacrifice. Our love of liberty — our
loyalty to those rights which belong to every man, as an
equal son and heir of the Infinite Father — is now appealed
to by every whirl of the conscription-wheel and in every
exaction of the tax-list ; and until these liberties, so auda-
ciously imperiled, are established beyond every hazard
in the future and for evermore, we are enjoined by all the
sufferings of those who, in dungeons and on scaftblds, paid
the price of their devotion to the same cause — by the
memories of our heroic and sainted fathers — by all the
hopes we have derived from it for our children and child-
ren's children — to carry on this contest to a triumphant
issue. And the grandeur of such a struggle — a struggle
reaching backward to Sidney's scaffold, and beyond, to
where men felt the first faint inspirations of such a cause :
for which Hampden died — for which our fathers left their
bloody impress on the snows of Valley Forge, and endured
the privations which made our Revolutionary annals so
glorious and inspiring for our study; the grandeur of such
a struggle invests these frequent deaths with a meaning
most sublime, and demands the enrolment of these humble
names in the grand, historical obituary of those who have
suffered for the dear cause of liberty in the ages of the past.
In a coming day, when the clouds shall have been
lifted, and present ignorance and prejudice no longer shall
distort the popular vision, with what a lustre these names
will shine on the historic roll, and how closely will they be
pressed againt the nation's heart ! Already, what heraldry
on palatial walls is more glorious than the uniforms torn
by the bayonet and cut by the bullet, hung in all those
homes where the dead soldier comes no more ? What
words more eloquent, or preserving a prouder fact, than

lis

those wliifli are ottcii rccitiMl above tliese swiftly-rising
moumls in all our eenieteries : "lie fought and fell in tliis
war for the Union and tor Freedom?" Oh I sleep, sleep,
ye uiartvrs, in 3'our (piiet graves ! Our spirits have heen
reinforced hy your sublime example ! By the fervor of
vour love of freedom vou have kindled ours, and out of
your graves shall spring a better harvest tlian sickles
straisi'liteued into swords have ever cut for our humanitv !
We are not cast down by our defeats. We are not moved
away from this great contest by a despau* as to its issue.
The sacred standard will not be lowered, but be kept
proudly aloft by those who are inspired by their hereditary
trust and devoted to the common cause. Xathan Hale
dies: but the cause was not thwarted. Warren dies: and
it seems as though the bullet that blasts his life shatters
the cause of the people ; but the cause does not slacken,
though he is borne helpless from the field. It marches
on — if to new defeats, yet to grander successes ; and, onlj^
widened in its scope, lives here to-day, marshaling a
nation's armies in its interest, and pressing forward to a
triumphant issue. All the sacrifices in the past have only
prepared us for sacrifices richer and ampler in the future.
The hostile stroke recoils. The blood that has run red-
dening from these veins, apparently to stop still and be
clotted as a pool on the earth, will run back somehow and
be reinfused into the people. As the tree dies, but in its
very decay nourishes the roots of the new forest; as the
silkworm dies, but his fine fabric does not perish ; as the
wave .wasting along the strand, in its recession completes
the fullness of the one succeeding; as the damp sprinkling
at the mouth of the furnace kindles the fire it but super-
ficially quenches to a hotter glow ; so no vital current at
present flowing can be so mighty for our triumph as that
which has been spent and spilt like water in these red
furrows of our civil strife.

119

From our very sacrifices, tlierefore — sacrifices ofiiered
in these homes, of comfi)rts and of treasure ; sacrifices in
the field, of our lovely and winning youth, our noble
manhood, our brave leadership — we prophecy success;
against our very war-sky we trace out our ^-ision of hope.

All the great landmarks of modern freedom — Magna
Charta, Reformation Protests, Declaration of Rights, De-
claration of Independence — have been sealed with blood.
Philosophy and science have pined in dungeons and bled
under the axe before putting on their immortal robes and
ascending to thrones. Religion, in all its humbler forms,
has " sweat great drops of blood, running down to the
ground," and in its highest expression is crimsoned and
warmed with the blood of the Son of God. The law is
universal and inevitable that all things valuable are secured
and consecrated by blood alone — and so must we as a
nation buy our redemption from our past iniquities and
seize that richest possession — equal and impartial freedom
for the human brotherhood — by these fierce pangs and this
bloody sweat. And if the blood shed so generously by all
our brave ones, whilst cementing anew the walls of our
Republic shall wash away our national reproach ; if, when
we sing in grandest concert our thanksgiving hynm over
the return of peace, a captive people sings of Freedom as
one, already, of them has been prepared to sing by him we
mourn, will there not be a consolation flowing for us from
that glorious result ?

Before this cofiin, then, my hearers, in the very valley of
this our sorrow, let us devote ourselves, with no outward
ritual, but in the deep recesses of our hearts, to this our
cause as it was his, the cause of " Freedom and the Union,"
with the solemn resolve of a perfect consecration. Then,
as on the battle field, so here, the death of this brave
soldier shall minister strength unto our souls, a fresh ardor
and energy to all our exertions. May God direct His

1 20

i'rov'uk'iH'C to such an i;?siu', mid whilst inspiring us vouch-
safe to those wlio more deeply mourn the abundant conso-
hitions of His grace. May they he felt to-day by the
mother who breathes her long and deep lament, by the
sisters wbo sob their tender an2;uish, by the brothers Avho
look ■sA'ith regretful memories on the " vacant chair," by
all who weep and mourn for the beauty of our Israel slain
upon the desolate places of battle.

[From the City Press.]

Funeral of Col. Bexedict.

The funeral of the late Col. Lewis Bexedict took j)lace
yesterday afternoon and created a deep sensation through-
out the city, where the deceased, as boy and man, had been
so well kno"uni and so generally beloved. The flags of the
city were at half-mast during the day. At noon the bells
began tolling and citizens to throng the streets, business
for the time being generally suspended.

At 1 p. M. the body, attended by the family and friends,
was conveyed from the residence of the deceased to the
2nd Presbyterian Church, where funeral services were per-
formed. The crowd was great. Every inch of space availa-
ble in the edifice was occupied, while hundi'eds were unable
to obtain admittance. The Governor and Staflf, the Mayor
and City Authorities and many fi'iends of the deceased from
ditferent parts of the State, were present and participated in
the solemn services of the hour.

The Prayer, full of tenderness and touching pathos, was
offered by the Eev. Dr. Sprague and was followed by an
earnest and eloquent Address by Rev. C. D. W. Bridgman.
He paid a glowing tiibute to the memory of the deceased,

121

spoke of Ms gallantry as a soldier and the large and honored
place he held in the affections of this community. His
allusion to his love for his mother, and the quotation from
a letter written to her a short time before his death, deeply
affected his hearers. Singing by the choir and a Benedic-
tion by Rev. Dr. Pohlman closed the exercises in the church.

The remains were then given in charge to the Military,
carried from the church, and placed upon a catafalque
drawn by four white horses. The coffin was covered with
the American flag and upon it laid the sword, cap, &c., of
the deceased, surrounded by a wreath of white flowers.
The funeral cortege was imposing. Minute guns were fired
during the movement of the procession, which passed down
State and through Xorth Pearl streets, followed by a dense
array of citizens. At the north bounds of the city the
Bearers took carriages, and the Military and others the cars,
for the Cemetery, where, after a most impressive reading
of the sublime funeral service of his church, by Rev. Dr.
Henry 1^. Pohlman, the body of the hero and patriot was
entombed, the Military paying the tribute prescribed for
such occasions.

The 25th Regiment, under command of Col. Church,
(whose arrangements were in excellent taste), was out with
full ranks, — a graceful testimonial of their admiration of
the worth and services of the deceased soldier.

riiOCEEDINGS

ALBANY B A R

On Saturday, the 7tli of ^lay, 1864, the members of the
Albany Bar convened at the Capitol.

The Hon. Rufus W, Peckham was appointed Chairman,
and Messrs. "SVolford and Edwards, Secretaries of the
meeting.

Messrs. Johnson, Gansevoort, Parker, Cooper and Coch-
rane, were appointed a committee on resolutions. The
committee, through their chairman, Mr. Johnson, reported
the following:

Resnhcih That the members of the Bar of the city of Alban^^,
have heard witli profound regret, of the death of Colonel Lewis
Benedict, whilst gallantly leading the Brigade he comiiianded to
battle and to victory.

Rewlved, That while we are called upon to mourn the loss of so
many of our professional brethren who have offered their lives as a
sacrifice in the desperate struggle in which we are engaged for the
preservation of our Constitution and our Liberties, and the perpe-
tuity of our Union, we have great reason to be proud of the honor
which their unselfish patriotism, their unwearied devotion, and their
gallant bearing, have conferred upon us.

Resolved, That while we duly honor, and will ever gratefully
cherish the memory of each and every one of our professional
brethren who have given their lives in their country's cause, and
for their countr^^'s defense, none presents a stronger or a higher
claim to our gratitude and respect than Colonel Lewis Benedict.
While each one has bravely and nobly performed the duty assigned
him, none has acquired a higher rank, or secured a higher reputa-
tion for military capacity and gallant bearing, than he whose deeds
we have met to honor, and whose memory we seek to perpetuate.

Reaoh-ed. That we deeply sympathize with the relatives and
A'iends of Colonel Benedict in their bereavement; and while we

128

ask to be permitted to mingle our regret, and our grief with theirs,
we trust that they may find, as we certainly do, consohxtion in the
reflection that he died as a brave and gallant soldier in the defense
of a just and holy ca^ise.

Resolved, That the Secretaries of this meeting transmit a copy
of these Resolutions to the family of Colonel Benedict.

The Hon. Lyman Tremain, moved tlie adoption of tlie
resolutions, and spoke as follows :

Mr. Chairman : I do not rise to pronomice an elaborate
eulogium upon the life and character of our deceased friend
and professional brother. But, having been well acquainted
with Col. Benedict for many years, I should fail to do jus-
tice to my own heart, if I omitted to say a few words on
this melancholy occasion, in honor of his memory.

The Bar has always maintained an honorable position in
every great struggle for popular rights and human liberty.
The general tendency of their pursuits and studies is
towards a safe conservatism on the one hand, while on the
other, the spirit of resistance to oppression and wrong —
for which their occupation so well prepares their minds —
and their intelligent capacity to appreciate, at an early
period, the true nature of the pending contest, have com-
bined to place the members of our profession in a command-
ing and prominent position, wherever the old warfare
between aristocracy and democracy has broken into a flame.

In the English Hevolution — and in all those fierce con-
tests between the Commons and the Crown of England,
which have resulted, in the main, so auspiciously for the
cause of constitutional liberty, the lawyers of England
have furnished many brilliant and noble examples. Every
educated man will readily recall the names of great English
lawyers which have become historic by reason of their
identification with such struggles — names that have been
handed down to us by history and tradition — names which
grow brighter and purer as time rolls on — names which
have become memorable in the council, at the forum, on
the field, and even upon the scaffold.

121

Tn tho Avar \'ov Amorican iiulcpciKlenee, tlie lawyers of
Aiiioru-a rotlocte'd lustre upon tlieir profession. Wlicncvor
our tlionglits are direeted to that great contest, we recall,
instinctively, the names of John Adams, James Otis,
Patrick Henry, Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Ham-
ilton, lawyers, who exercised greater influence upon the
colonies, than any equal num1)er of men, from any and
all other occupations, and whose services will be gratefully
remembered and cherished while American literature
endures.

The civil war in which we are now engaged furnishes
no exception to the general rule. The lawyers need not
be ashamed of their record. Albanv need not blush for
her Bar. Our roll of honor is bright and glorious. To the
honored names of Jackson, Hill, Strong and Benedict, the
lawyers of Albany can point "with melancholy pride. In
proportion to the number of onr little band, no other
profession, occupation, or calling in our city, noble and
loyal as we admit them to be, can furnish a better or a
nobler list of patriot-martyrs.

Col. Lewis Benedict was not an ordinary man. He
was not induced to become an active participant in this
war by fanaticism, or bigotry, or personal malevolence to
any portion of his countrymen. On the contrary, he was
a gentlemen of fine culture, general attainments, a high
order of intelligence, and a man of the world. He had
college friends, personal and political associates, to whom
he was warmly attached, scattered all through the seced-
ing states. His mind was entirely free from personal
bitterness or a vindictive spirit, and his nature was wholly
kind, genial and generous.

He entered the field, however, from the noblest and
most patriotic motives. He appreciated, at the commence-
ment of hostilities, the true character of the contest. He
understood that it was to be a fierce and bloodv war. He

125

knew that it was an issue no less grand and important,
than to determine whether the Union and our free institu-
tions shouki be perpetuated and preserved, or whether
they should forever perish.

He believed the struggle was between despotism on one
side and a republican form of government on the other;
between the masses, and the privileged few ; and he saw,
in the defeat of the Union, the destruction of the funda-
mental principles of a republic, and the ruins of the cause
of free labor and popular sovereignty.

He believed that the success of the rebellion would
throw back the cause of civilization, and place in peril all
that had hitherto been gained in the cause of freedom
and humanity. With such ^uews, he drew his sword, and
entered the service of his country.

Receiving a commission, he made himself master of his
official duties, and labored, with fidelity and success, to
promote the welfare, safety and comfort of the soldiers
who were placed under his command. The touching
letter to his mother, an extract from which was read at
his funeral, reveals his views on this point, in a light most
honorable to himself, and well worthy of adoption by all
other officers in the Army of the Union.

He was taken prisoner while bravely fighting the enemy,
and was confined for many months in the southern prisons.
After being exchanged he returned to his home in this city,
where he was met by crowds of his fellow citizens eager to
give him a public reception, which was declined by him on
account of his impaired health.

He remained here a few weeks, an invalid, and on
recovering his health, he was ofl:ered and accepted the
command of a new regiment which had recently been
raised in the city of ISTew York. His commission, as colo-
nel, was well earned by him, and was tendered to him in
recognition of his meritorious services in the field.

126

Ifo part'u'iitatod in tlio siou'O oi" I'ort IIiulsoii. I lioanl
an oflioor who saw him on tlial occasion, speak in terms
of tlie warmest admiration of Benedict's bravery in
marching, pursuant to orders, at the head of his Brigade,
across the plain up to the enemy's battery, in full range
of his guns, and while men were falling all around him.

lie had the satisfaction of seeing that proud fortress,
with its vast military stores and brave defenders yield to
our victorious arms.

In the recent disastrous battles in Louisiana, Col.
Benedict, on the third day of the fight, while victory was
perching upon our banner, fell with his face to the foe at
the head of his brigade, pierced by several bullets, showing
that he was at the post of danger, and in the performance
of his duty.

Col. Benedict seemed at Port Hudson to possess a
charmed life, but at last " the silver cord was loosed, and
the golden bowl was broken." The citizen soldier has
" fouo-ht his last battle." His remains have been brought
back to the city of his nativity and his affection. The
funeral oration has been pronounced ; the honored coffin
ha* been placed in the tomb ; the solemn strains of martial
music have ceased ; the crowds of mourning citizens have
returned from the funeral ceremonies, and he, than whom
a braver officer never drew the sword, sleeps well in his
new made grave.

By the death of Lewis Benedict, our city has lost an
active and influential citizen, our profession a talented
and respected member, and our army and the country a
useful and valuable officer.

We sympathize deeply with the mourning relatives and
friends, and especially with the mother who has been
bereaved of her son. But, it is allotted to all men to die,
and what nobler death can there be than that of Lewis
Benedict ?

127

He proved Ms sincerity by tlie highest tests, and sealed
with his hfe-blood, his devotion to his country. Prompted
by the noblest ambition, he left his father's house for the
field of dano'er and of death. Had he remained an inac-
tive spectator of the distant struggle, his years might,
perhaps, have been prolonged for an indefinite period, but
what comparison then and now in his closing career and
his final death? What real friend of Benedict would
reverse, if he could, the decrees of an all-wise Providence,
or desire that he should exchange a few years of unevent-
ful sloth, for a death met in the discharge of duty, while
bravely defending his country against its enemies?

Shall the sacrifices like that we this day lament, be made
in vain? We are on the eve of mighty events. The
country is trembling with hopes and fears. Great armiee
are menacing each other on the soil of Virginia. Eivers
of blood may yet flow, and thousands of noble lives be
sacrificed in the approaching collision, upon the altar of
our beloved country. Shall all these precious offerings
prove unavailing ? Forbid, it Heaven! 'No, it cannot,
must not, shall not be ! The cause of iiumanity must
not roll backward. An enlightened American civilization
shall not succumb to an effete and antiquated barbarism.

The closing struggle will be terrific, and the destruction
of property and life awful. But, in the language of an
orator of our revolution, " I see, or think I see, clearly
the end of this day's business."

In our vast resources, in the strength and intrinsic jus-
tice of our cause, we occupy a position of immense supe-
riority over our enemies. A rebellion, the elements
composing which consist of all human crimes, cannot
succeed in this age against the American people, with a
just God upon the throne. Sooner or later the authority
of this Union will, I doubt not, be restored. "When peace
shall again return with unnumbered blessings, then will

128

our people remember, wirli lively grntitiule, tlirongli all
coming time, the warriors by wliosc blood a permanent
peace was secured. Then will the names of Benedict
and those other brave heroes who may have fallen in this
war, be spoken with grateful aftection, and their memories
be honored and cherished by a free and happy people.

Remarks of Hon. John K Porter.

"We all felt a sudden sinking of the heart, when, with
tidin<rs of the victory of the southwestern army, on the
9th of April, came the startling rumor that Lewis Bene-
dict was dead. "U^e knew that if he had fallen, it had
been in the van of battle ; but he had so strong a hold
upon us all that we refused to credit the message of death.
^e were not long in suspense. He had fallen, like T\"olfe,
in the hour and on the field of victory.

TVe were connected with him by the ties of private
friendship and professional brotherhood ; and having united
with his companions in arms, with the public authorities
and the citizens at large, in the sad office of committing
his bloodless remains to their resting place, we feel that we
do honor to ourselves, no less than to him, by convening
at the Capitol to pay a special tribute of respect to his
memory.

Xo man whom Albany has produced has fulfilled more
nobly, in the close of his career, the brilhant promise of
youth and early manhood. In his case, as in many others,
the civil war, which now convulses the country, has given
occasion for the complete development of powers, rarely
called into full exercise in periods of peace.

Few entered active life under more propitious circum-
stances. Distinguished by rare talents and attainments
during his collegiate course, he had the advantage of pur-

129

suing Ills subsequent professional studies under tlie guid-
ance of Jolm C. Spencer, and, on his admission to the bar,
became the partner of jSIarcus T. Reynolds, wlio fully ap-
preciated his manly character and marked forensic ability.

Independent in his circumstances, "with a keen zest for
social intercourse, with habits of literary culture — which
soon gave place, in a great measure, to the more absorbing
interest that beguiles so many from the bar to the arena of
political strife — he was known as a clear-headed and able
lawyer, capable of taking any rank in the profession to
which he might aspire, but too little emulous of the forensic
honors which lay within his reach. He needed more than
the stimulus of mere personal ambition. He did not care
to meet the ceaseless exactions of the law — to sow while
others sleep, and reap the fruits of that intellectual toil
which knows neither relaxation nor repose. "VYith a healthy,
vigorous and well-stored mind, he found it easy to discharge,
with skill and fidelity, the duties he owed to his clients,
and was content vnih. a manlv and honorable but unambi-
tious professional career, l^o better evidence could be fur-
nished of his thorough legal training and rare judicial
ability, than the fact that while he was surrogate of the
county of Albany, no decree pronounced by him was re-
versed in any appellate tribunal.

His generous impulses and strong convictions naturally
made him an active and ardent participant in public affairs ;
and it was a marked characteristic of the man, that, though
as a political leader, he won commanding influence and
merited distinction, he took more pleasure in advancing
the fortunes of others, than in putting himself in the line
of preferment. He accepted public honors, but only when
they came unsought.

At the outbreak of the rebellion, he held a prominent
position in the Legislature, and by his counsels, his speeches
and his votes, he rendered effective aid in perfecting the

nicnsuros devised l>y that ]i:iti-i(>ti(' body to ronsctlic people
and nnn the state. Uut Avhrn the session i-losed, and our
Ihig needed armed defense, no one who knew liini donhted
that he would he among the foremost of its defenders.

The maidv and e:enerous tributes to his memory bv life-
long- political opponents, are alike honorable to them and
just to him. lie was true to the principles he professed,
iuAvrought as they were with his deepest convictions. lie
felt that in a war waged by Southern caste against JSTorth-
crn democracy — in an armed rebellion of slavery against
law and libertj^ — his proper field of service was the battle-
field. He could not be unconscious of his high qualifications
for command, but in the spirit of true patriotism, which
exacts no conditions, he tendered his services in that
position, be it what it might, for which there should be no
more fitting applicant.

He was on the eve of marriage, but at the call of his
country he postponed all that was personal to him^self until
the event should prove whether he was to sleep in a soldier's
gi'ave.

Calmly and unostentatiously he announced his purpose,
and made his arrangements, not for three months or three
years, but for the war. The ties of filial and fraternal love
bound few men with equal strength; but all who knew
his father will readily believe that on an issue involving
the honor of the country and the maintenance of the govern-
ment, he could not hesitate to dedicate to the cause either
his own blood or that of the cherished son who bore his
name.

"\\"e have since followed that father to the grave, at the
age of nearly four score years. The noble impress of his
character was developed by subsequent events in the son,
then captive in a rebel prison. I have known no man
more worthy to be held in honored remembrance than
Lewis Benedict, the elder. In the grandeur of his person.

131

no less than in tlie earnestness of Ms purposes, lie realized
my conception of the iron-willed barons who extorted
from the Crown the great charter of English liberty. His
very presence gave assurance of the balanced elements of
perfect manhood. The masculine vigor of his understand-
ing, his broad and enlightened views, his clear perception
of the right, his rugged and inflexible sense of justice, com-
manded our respect and admiration. Yet this lion-hearted
old man, open, frank and downright in speech, had a warm,
generous and loving nature, which yielded to friendship
and affection with almost womanly gentleness and sensi-
bility. He was loyal, faithful and true — incapable of
falsehood — incapable of fear. He was in many respects
a much greater man than others whom,mth confiding and
unselfish devotion, he aided in building up to greatness.

The son entered the service in a spirit worthy of the
father. Too many were looking to the war as an opj3ortu-
nity to achieve private fortune or personal advancement.
The path of these led toward Washington ; his led toward
the field of battle. He received an early appointment as
Lieutenant-Colonel in the Excelsior Brigade ; and, aided in
no small degree by his executive ability and energy. Gen.
Sickles was soon in the field at the head of a body of men
who "will receive in historj^ a generous share of the honors
du^ to the Army of the Potomac.

No ofiicer in the army, of equal rank, proved more
effective in command than Col. Benedict. 'None rose
more rapidly in the confidence of his superior ofiicers,
and, though a rigid disciplinarian, he won the personal
affection and devotion of every man in his regiment.

In the memorable battle of Williamsburg he refused to
be kept from the field, though crippled by a recent injury.
He held his brave troops close up to the line of duty and
of death, when, others fell back in dismay ; and when at
last cut off, by a sudden movement of the enemy, from

132

tlic TiKiin body of his iiieii, ho refused to surrender his
sword, and was foreibly disarmed by command of a rebel
otHcer, who was too much won by his gahantrj to permit
a wounded foe to be cut down in unequal combat.

Relieved from captivity by exchange in August, 1862,
he returned to Albany to recruit his wasted strength, and
to visit his mother's home and his father's grave. In three
weeks, while still convalescent and barely able to walk, he
was commissioned as Colonel of the 162d regiment, and
soon after sailed with his troops for the Gulf.

In January he was assigned to the command of a brigade.
His services in that capacity for the remaining fifteen months
of his life were such as won the admiration of all who XVit-
uessed them, and the regard of all who served under him.
'We have among us the returned veterans who have made
his name familiar in the households of the rank and file,
as the soldier's friend, and the bravest of the brave. "We
have the public record of his distinguished services and his
dauntless bearing in the memorable siege of Port Hudson.
"VVe heard with increased joy of the surrender of that fort-
ress, because it superseded the intended assault by the
" Thousand Stormers," in which he was tp lead a forlorn
hope — scarcely more "forlorn," however, than one
he had already led against the same fortifications on the
14th of June — a day which clothed our city in mourning.

As we follow him from scene to scene in that dark drama
of war, we find him everywhere charged by the general in
command with trusts of the highest responsibility, and, in
the disharge of each duty, developing resources and ability
which demand the grateful recognition of the country.
Recommended by General Banks for promotion to the
rank, of which he performed the duties and assumed the
perils, he was passed by at "Washington, to witness, in some
cases at least, the preferment of those who were seek-
ing the honors, which he was content to earn, Xo such

Loo

omission will occur in tlie historic roll, to be made up here-
after, of the heroic leaders who have baptized with their
blood the fields on which our national honor was redeemed.

Col. Bexedict had eminent qualifications for command.
To a mind of admirable clearness and perspicuity he added
the self-reliance imparted by conscious strength and the
steady energy of a calm and resolute will. He had the rare
power of organization, with the still rarer faculty of inspir-
ing the confidence and winning the hearts of masses of
men. He had the buoyant and elastic strength which
always rises with the emergency, equal to the demands of
the hour. Beside all this, he held every faculty under com-
plete control — a qualification which, in the case of one of
his favorite marshals, !N"apoleon likened to the complete
command of his steed by a trained and fearless rider.

Wlien, at the historic battle of Pleasant Hill, the tor-
tunes of the day rested for the time on the bearing of this
chosen brigade of the 19th Army Corps, every man in his
command knew that, whoever else might fail, Lewis Bexe-
dict would not fail — and that in the bloodiest crisis of
battle, his pulse would be even, his voice firm, his vision
clear, his judgment poised, and his heart true. It was
only such a man in command of our left wing, who could
have held that devoted band, a living breastwork, from
which the advancing column of the rebel army more than
once recoiled — and who in the end, could move those
ranks, unbroken save by death, to -the final charge which
bore our banner to victory. In that charge he fell, leav-
ing a record which imparts. lustre to his name, and confers
honor on the city of his birth.

134

IJkmafvKS of ITo\. ri..\rK "B. CorilKANE.

AVliilo I cannot, in justice to my own feelings, or to the
promptings of this occasion, Avhich nvc well nigh irrepres-
sibh^, remain entirely silent, I shall attempt little else tlian
present my sincere offering of personal- respect and grati-
tude to the memory of Lewis Benedict. Certainly, I am
quite unable to add anything to what has been so well and
so eloquently said, touching the distinguished life and
ser^^lces of our departed friend. He was a member of this
bar, and we meet, as is becoming, to give public expression,
to the sorrow we feel at the loss of a cherished professional
brother. He was our fellow-townsman, and in the honor
which his recent marked and brilliant career has reflected
upon his native city, we may properly claim, in some sense,
to share; for those generous and manly qualities which he
exhibited, as our companion and acquaintance ; for those
resolute and inherent traits of character which made the de-
ceased a representative of the higher type of our American
manhood ; for that heroic love of country, which constrained
him to break from every other tie and postpone every other
affection, and peril life itself in her defense ; for the skill
and courage in the field which had secured the confidence
of officers and men, and for that undaunted intrepidity,
singularly displayed amid the appalling scenes which were
his last, we may express our admiration and here record
our profound and grateful remembrance. Beyond this,
there is nothing for us to do. ^o language of panegyric
which we can employ, can add anything to the fame of Col.
Bexedict. This is already secure. The achievement is his
alone. He was the architect of his own fame. He rose to
position and eminence by the vigor and strength of his own
character. His life-work, in the new theater of action for
which he left us, rising rapidly into public view, to-day
stands out clear and distinctive in its noble proportions,

.35

and tliougli we may commemorate the finished structure,
the voice of praise can add nothing to its essential grandeur.

Gifted by nature with those rare endowments which quali-
fy men for great and perilous employments, imbued with that
spirit of devotion which the love of country can alone inspire,
he entered the field of patriotic duty, and though arrested
in middle life and in mid career, he had lifted, by force of
his own right hand, his name and reputation to position,
and placed them upon an eminence above the anxieties of
friendship, and beyond the reach of detraction. A hero by
inheritance, born with elements for command, trained to
habits of self-reliance and schooled in the knowledge of men,
he found in the stern occupations of war, to which his im-
periled country called him as a leader, a theater fitted to
the development of his powers. Cool amidst every danger,
skillful in the disposition of his forces, attentive to the wants
and careful for the safety of his men, lion-hearted on the
day of battle, distinguished in every conflict, tried in both
extremes of military fortune and equal to either, and at last
when his hour came, met death like a true soldier in the
face of the enemy, leading his brave columns to victory.
This is the simple record of Col. Benedict. What can any
of us do — what can we all do bettei", than " leave him alone
in his glory ? " Ambition cannot covet a nobler death, or
patriotism own a holier sacrifice. His countrymen, not
simply his class, recognize his services and dej)lore his loss.

Before his body had reached our city, before the flag,
for which he died, had been lowered in token of the sacri-
fice, before even the bereaved mother had heard the fate
of her son, in the chances of the battle, his name had
been enshrined in the nation's heart. There it ^^^lll remain
forever. The tears shed by kindred upon his bier had
been anticipated by the tears of his companions in arms,
shed when the stern conflict was ov-er. Ere the " little
earth," now set apart by private ajffection as the final rest-

136

lug place of his ashes, had Ikh'h distiirhed, loyal iniHioiis
had eoiiseeratrd the spot w lirre the i^atriot soldiiT fell.

Siieh is the homaii-c and such the award whicTi a (grateful
couiitrv can never tail to pa^^ to the memory of those who
Slitter and bleed on her behalf. The name and deeds of
onr fallen brother, identified with his country in her heroic
struggle for life and cherished traditions, and hereafter to
become historic, shall endure in honored remembrance, so
long as patriotism and valor shall continue to be classed
amono; the virtues of mankind.

This sad event presses upon us with peculiar emphasis.
"We are again most forcibly reminded how many and how
great are the sacrifices made and being made to uphold
the integrity of the government, and defend the institu-
tions and liberties of our fiithers. That of our late friend
is but one of the thousands of valued and cherished lives
which have been freely offered to the holy cause of the
Union — to maintain the honor and empire of that flag
which, amid all the vicissitudes that have attended the
growth and fortunes of this people, by night and by day,
at home and abroad, on the land and on tlic sea, has been
the protector, equally of those who defend and those who
now with wicked hands assail it. So, also, in the light
reflected from those fearful and bitter experiences, the
guilt and infamy of the rebellion are seen in deeper and
blacker shadows. The faithful pen of history, a part of
whose mission it will be to record the names of the heroic
dead, whose blood, on the 9th of April, mingled with the
soil of Louisiana, shall hand down this bloody conspiracy,
by whose hand our brother perished, to the common and
irreversible execration of mankind.

Let our enemies and the enemies of free government,
at home and abroad, read in the unprecedented ex]')endi-
ture of blood and treasure in defense of threatened nation-
ality, in the deeds of our brave and the endurance of our

137

people, tlie deep and earnest significance of our watchword
and inspiration, " one country, one flag, one destiny."

Eemarks of Hale Kingsley, Esq.

Mr. Chairman : A sense of duty bids me add my hum-
ble tribute of respect to the memory of the member of our
profession, whose death has occasioned this meeting of the
Albany Bar. I render this tribute in the sincerity of a sad
and sorrowing heart.

For a brief period associated with him in business, and
for many years proud to claim him as an intimate personal
friend, I think I may say that outside of his own circle of
relatives, none loved him more or knew him better than
myself.

Others of our brethren have gone down to the grave,
crowned with more professional honors ; others have
departed to the world beyond, who have achieved more
distinction and reaped more emoluments from the contests
of legal strife ; but none have gone hence, never to return
more, with a stronger claim upon our aftections, our esteem
and respect, or left a more honored memory to be cherished
and preserved, than Lewis Benedict.

Possessed of a vigorous, strong intellect, highly nurtured
and cultivated by a liberal education, his early years
of practice in our profession gave promise of a life of
distinguished usefulness at the bar. An almost intuitive
knowledge of, and insight into, human nature, a rare
faculty of reading the motives by which men were go-
verned, combined with strong common sense and far-seeing
judgment, peculiarly fitted him for becoming a brilliant
ornament to the profession.

But an incident, of which only a few of his intimate

138

personal tnonds knoAV, made liim careless of winning pro-
fessional distinction and renown, and lie loved not the
profession for the ]icruniary I'nioluments which it might
have aftbrded him.

He therefore sought, in the contests of political life, if
not its honors, the right and privilege of advocating and
advancing those principles, the success of which would
most surely tend to the promotion of his country's welfare
and prosperity. The large vote cast for him, in excess of
his party, when elected to the otiice of surrogate of this
county, testiiies how, thus early in his political career, he
had won the popular heart by those manly qualities, which
have since grown brighter and brighter as they have been
tried in the fire.

The present unhappy war found him enjoying the
generous confidence of the people of his native cit)^, with
ample means to make life pleasant and to be longed for,
surrounded by a charming family circle of beloved and
loving relatives, and possessed of a gentlemanly courtesy
and l)reeding that were a passport to the best society of
the land.

But full of love for the institutions of the land of his
birth, actuated by the purest patriotism, and moved by a
controlling sense of duty, he sacrificed all, as the sequel
proved, to die for his country.

I need not speak of his military career, for his abilities,
his patient endurance of sutfering and hardship, his de-
voted patiiotism, chivalrous courage, gallant daring and
noble heroism, are household words in the citv of his
birth.

Oh ! how I dreaded, when I first heard of the fatal
battle in which he fell, that disaster would he his. I knew
him so well. I had occasion to know, before the fire of
battle proved it, how brave a heart he carried in his
bosom. I knew that where duty called, or honors were

139

to be won in tlie service of his country, lie would be no
laggard. He fell, as I believed he would fall, if fall he
must, viith. " his back to the field and his feet to the foe."

"With a heart as kind, as gentle and loving as a woman's,
ever open and responsive to every appeal for charity and
sympathy, with a sense of honor as fine as ever found
lodgment in a human bosom, he had a courage as cool,
a spirit as chivalrous, a soul as brave as ever dwelt in
mortal tenement.

Is it a wonder that such a man died for his country ?

Blessed be his last sleep ! Forever cherished, among
us and the people with whom he lived, and in whose cause
he died, be his memory !

The sad events of this war have taken from among the
members of our profession many of the gifted, brave and
devoted, whom we were wont to meet in fraternal relations.
It may be that other sacrifices are called for, and that
others still may find time to die for their country and the
right. If this be so, he who is called will be fortunate
indeed if he is only partially successful in emulating the
virtues, the patriotism, the heroism, the courage and
devotion of the law;)'er whose memory we seek to per-
petuate to-day — the soldier over whose bier has been fired
the last volley — but whose name and fame will be ever
warmly cherished by a grateful community.

Remarks of Isaac Edwards, Esq.

Mr. Chairman: "We speak of the living with fearless
criticism, in spite of the social temptation we are under
to strengthen friendship, and conciliate opinion. But
when we meet, as on this occasion, to commemorate the
life and services of one who has but just entered into

14(1

the city of tlic dead, onr natural reverence subdues the
haste of speech, that scorns not iiuq^i^roprinto on ordi-
nary occasions.

"^Ve all knew Col. Lewis Bknedict, most of us for
many years, and have ourselves witnessed his bearins: in
the profession, in business, political and social life. Every
one, friend and foe, knew him as a frank, generous and
brave man — one who combined in himself the elements
of strength that attract attention and secure respect.
Some of us in former years, doubtless, opposed him in
political principle or action, and found in liim a manly
opponent, tenacious of opinion, and resolute and deter-
mined in the maintenance of those views of public policy
which commended themselves to his judgment. We saw
that he did not vacillate between contlicting opinions,
and showed no misgivings of the popular favor. We saw
that his character, like that of his father, was solid and firm,
strong enough to stand steadfast, as the mast of a gallant
ship on a storm-beaten sea.

Fairly to appreciate him, we have to bear in mind
the outline of his life, the opinions he formed in early man-
hood, the changes since wrought in the public mind, the
convictions which he entertained in common with those
who succeeded in the general election of 1860, and the
civil war which ensued and still desolates the land. So
directly alhed as we are to the past and intensely interested
in the present, it is impossible for us here and now. to think
or speak with the candor and breadth of view that may be
looked for in the coming years of rest and peace, which, I
trust, lie not far beyond us in the future. This much, how-
ever, we know, from the magnitude of the struggle and the
nature of the principles involved in it, whatever may be
the precise issue of the present war, the influence of it will
flow on through the history of the continent for a thou-
sand years.

141

I will not now speak of the marks of confidence, the pub-
lic offices of dignity and trust that were conferred upon the
deceased — tokens of the estimation in which he was held
in this community. ISTor will I now dwell upon his en-
lightened and liberal sentiments, his genial manners,
noble candor, and veracious spirit, qualities that "sprang
naturally from his large heart and ^dgorous brain.

Long before the war began, he was at the head of a mili-
tary company, and everybody saw that he possessed quali-
ties and habits that fitted him for command. Every man in
the company claimed him as a friend, and was proud of
him.

"When the war broke upon us, the undaunted spirit of
Col. Benedict rose to meet the occasion. He saw and
felt that the Rebellion was set on foot to reverse and
annul with the sword the solemn verdict of the American
people, to uproot the foundations of the Government and
destroy, utterly, the fair fabric of our institutions. He
saw that it was to be a war of arms resting upon a war of
opinion, a contest between proud and brave soldiers on
either side ; and he voluDteered to bear his part in the
struggle. He felt, as we all did, that the success of the
Rebellion would dissolve the Union as with the touch of
Ithuriel's spear, put an end to the peace and tranquility
of our home-life so long enjoyed under the joint protec-
tion of a great people, and cashier the Republic from her
high rank among the nations. AVe know that these
thoughts, great and ennobling inspirations of duty,
occupied his mind as he went fortli to the service, and
that he gave his life for his country. There are certainly
other scenes of faithful service, and other trials of the
courage and constancy of the citizen; but there is in
these days no surer test of the human spirit than that
which Lewis Benedict endured again, and again, on the
field of battle; and it does not diminish our admiration

142

tor liim to know tlmt liuiulrods and thousands of our
vouuir niou have i>assed tliroiiij^li tlie same ordeal, as
gold tried by tire, AVe read short and imperfect details
of the skirmisli and the battle, at a distance from the
scene of conflict ; but we do not see the soldier marching
into action, knowing that he may at any moment ex-
change the present for another life, advancing steadily
upon the dread realities of life and death, upon whatever
is most appalling, in the devilish enginery of modern
war ; and we can but slightly appreciate the stern trial of
such an hour. Let us then honor these men, and count
the heroism of him that fell at the head of his brigade as
one of the titles to honor, which attach to the city of his
birth and home.

Eemaeks of Hon. C. L. Austin.

31r. Chairman : Esteeming myself among the humblest
among the distinguished men whom I see around me, I
would feel myself incapable of adding anything worthy of
the occasion to the encomiums already passed upon the
name and services of our deceased brother.

It seems to me, however, that there is a peculiar fitness
in my adding, at least, the expression of my heartfelt con-
currence in all that has been said of him. Four years
ago we were competitors for the otRce which I have just
vacated. In that competition it did not happen to him to
be successful. It was for an office entirely and peculiarly
belonging to our profession as members of the bar.

And as it would be folly for me to attempt to gild the
refined gold of eulogy which has just been bestowed ujDon
his character in the profession in which he has fallen a

143

martyr, it gives me tlie greater pleasure to speak of him
in liis cliaracter of judge and magistrate, whicli he held for
several years among us.

In that office he was as bold and brave as he was in the
field. With a strong instinct of justice to guide him, he
was ever fearless in deciding the questions before him
according to his sense of right.

I have seen the humble and undistinguished members
of our profession contending before him with the strongest
and the most honored, and in such contests no one had to
fear that human respect, or the weight of professional
reputation would turn the scales against a just cause,
when held in the hands of Lewis Benedict as surrogate of
the county of Albany. I do not approve the taste, sir, on
occasions of this character of alluding to faults or to
blemishes. Being mortals, we are none of us free from
them. And I would not now mention the word, except
for the purpose of saying that in him, such as he had,
partook of the quality of virtue, because they were all
swallowed up in his distinguishing characteristic of open-
ness, manliness and courage.

That such a character entering into the military service
of his country should have illustrated itself by bold and
heroic action, by self-sacrifice, even unto death, was only
to have been expected ; and as I followed his body to its
last resting place, on the last day of the term of that office
for which, a few years before, we had contended against
eacli other, I could not but reflect that the result of
that rivalry, though, for the moment, an apparent reverse
for him, had, like all reverses of which men of courage
and conduct know how to make account, brouo-ht in the
end a triumph for his name and memory in the resj^ect
and honor of the country.

The resolutions were then unanimously adopted, and
the meeting adjourned.

144

Ai,j;anv, Ma>i lOlh, 1804.
aMks, Lewis Benedict.

Dear 31adam:
The Bar of the city, convened at the Capitol on the 7th
instant, directed ns, tlie Secretaries of the meeting, to
present you witli a copy of the enclosed Resolutions, ex-
pressing their higli regard for your gifted, heroic and
lamented son. In discharging this duty, permit us to add
our sense of the public loss, and our profound personal
sorrow to the burden of bereavement which must be so
keenly felt in the home of Col. Benedict.
"With great respect, we are,

Yours Truly,

George "Wolfgiid,
Isaac Edwards.

SCHOHARIE COUNTY.

The Late Colonel Benedict.

At a meeting of the Bar and citizens of Schoharie
county, assembled at Cobleskill, on hearing of the death
of the lamented Col. Lewis Benedict, of Albany, Charles
Holmes, Esq., was chosen Chairman, and JST. Degraff,
Esq., Secretary.

On motion, W. H. Young, G. "W. Smith, D. W. Darrow,
L. Cross, and A. Loucks, were appointed a Committee to
report resolutions expressing the sense of this meeting.

H. Smith, Esq., of Albany, in appropriate remarks,
recounted the social qualities, the legal acquirements, the

145

enviable positions, the personal sacrifices, patriotic devotion,
and excellent traits of character of the deceased.

"W. H. Young, from the committee, reported the fol-
lowing resolutions, which were unanimously adopted :

Resolved., That we have learned with sincere and profound regret
of the death of CoL. Lewis Benedict — late of the city of Albany — •
while at the head of his Brigade, bravely and gallantly leading his
men forth to " battle for the cause of his country."

Resolved., That his cheerful sacrifice of the ease and luxuries of
home, the society and associations of numerous personal and social
friends, for the hardships and dangers of a soldier's life, bespeak for
him an enviable position in the list of heroes. That his loss is a
source of deep regret to his friends, his regiment, and country.

Resolved., That the proceedings of this meeting be published in
our county papers. Atlas and Argus, and Albany Evening Journal.

Charles Holmes, Chairman.

N. Degrafp, Secretary.

REGIMENTAL TRIBUTE.

At a meeting of the OflScers of the 162d Regiment, N".
Y. V. I., held, June 4, 1864, in camp, at Morganzia Bend,
La., Resolutions were passed expressive of their high regard
and respect for the character and memory of their deceased
Colonel, Lewis Benedict, and tendering their condolence
to his bereaved family.

The following ofiicers were appointed a Committee, and
instructed to communicate the Resolutions to the family
and to cause them to be published in the Albany and ]^ew
York papers.

Samuel Cowdrey, Capt. Co. I, 162d K Y. V. L

J. W. Seaman, Capt. Co. D, " "

- John H. Van Wyck, 1st Lieut. Co. G, " "

1 IC.

Wll.LlAxAlS COLLEGE.

Of the Annual Meotinii' of tlir Aliiinni in Anunist, 1864,
tlio WiUianis Collog-e Mii^cellany says: "The Ahimni met
on I'liesday mornhic:, lion. Tlionias Colt in the chair.
I'lie ohituavy notices were read by the Secretary, and
among the names -who received the liighest enlogies we
notice those of Professor llnunons, of the class of 1818;
Col. Benedict, of the class of 1837 : Hon. John A,
Walker, of the class of 1840 ; and lion. Luther Bradish,
of the class of 1804." President Andrews, of Marietta
College, Ohio, Hon. Erastus C. Benedict, of New York,
and Hon. James D. Colt, of Pittsfield, paid eloquent and
touching tributes to the character of Col. Benedict and
sketched his career during the war. Two of the speakers,
draA^-ing upon their memories, reproduced scenes and inci-
dents of the days when he was an inmate of the college,
that were intensely interesting.

On this occasion steps were taken toward the erection
of a Monument to perpetuate the memory of the sons
of Williams who had fallen in the war.

At the Annual Meeting of August, 1865, the Alunmi
held dedicatory services around the Monument, which was
far advanced toward completion. Prayer was offered by
President Hopkins and speeches were made by Hon. James
T>. Colt, of Pittsfield, Hon. Joseph White, of Williamstown,
Judge Abm. B. Olin, of Washington, D. C. and Hon.
Emory Washburn, of Worcester.

The Monument is of red sandstone and reflects the
highest credit upon the taste and skill of the architect. It
will be completed by placing upon it a bronze statue of a
soldier.

147

ACTION BY THE PRESIDENT AND SENATE.

The President, on tlie recommendation of tlie Secretary
at War, nominated, for Brevet Brigadier General, U. S.
Volunteers :

" Colonel Lewis Benedict of tlie One Hundred and
Sixty Second New York Volunteers, for gallant conduct at
Port Hudson, Louisiana, to date from March 13, 1865."

This nomination was confirmed by the Senate, July 23,
1866.

CORRESPONDENCE.

Washington, Oct. 14, 18G4.
My Dear Colonel :

I knew Colonel Benedict well and was near Ms Bri-
gade when lie fell. He died bravely and nobly, in a battle
wbicb was ten-ific in its progress, and where onr success
saved the army, the fleet, and gave us the continued posses-
sion of the Mississippi and ITew Orleans. Had we failed
at Pleasant Hill, we could not have maintained our power
with the loss of the army, and the fleet of gun-boats.

Colonel Benedict did not die in vain ; and the close of
his career was as glorious as its progress had been upright
and honorable.

We were, at once, upon making acquaintance with each
other, on a confidential footing and I was often surprised
and delighted with the general intelligence and knowledge
of men which he always exhibited. I read, at the time of his
death, the discourses pronounced at his funeral and by the
Bar of which he was a member. They did no more than
justice to the many virtues which distinguished him.

Very truly yours.

To CoL. K K Lu. Dudley. K P. Banks, M. G. C.

Portland, Me., Jubj 25, 1864.
My Dear Sir :

* * * I was quite intimate with your brother.

Colonel Lewis Benedict, of the 162d IST. Y. Regiment. He

was under my command from August, 1863, until the time

149

of his death. I, hke every one else who knew him, was
exceedingly attracted by his social qualities, and I enjoyed
his society extremely. I saw a great deal of him, during
the winter of 1863-64, while I commanded at Franklin,
La. At this time he commanded a Brigade in Brig. Gen.
Emory's Division of the 19th Corps.

He retained command of this Brigade on the march
from Franklin to Alexandria and Natchitoches, and com-
manded it in the battle of Sabine Cross Roads, April 8,
1864, and of Pleasant Hill, April 9, 1864. In the last
named battle he was killed.

I know little of his conduct in the battle of the 8th of
April. I do know, however, that his Brigade, which held
the left of the line, was severely attacked by the enemy ;
that it behaved exceedingly well, entirely repulsing the
attack, and that it held the ground until nightfall, when
the battle ended. My position on that day prevented me
from knowing any more than what I have told above.

On the 9th of April, at Pleasant Hill, his Brigade formed
the left of Gen. Emory's line. He came to my Head-
quarters about 12 o'clock, M., to obtain permission from
Gen. Emory and myself, to change the position of his line,
indicating another, which, in his opinion, was stronger and
safer. "We agreed to the change, and he then left, and the
change was made. In this new position his Brigade was
attacked by the enemy, and after a gallant fight was driven
back. It was, however, rallied very soon, returned to the
fight, drove the enemy in turn, and did a great deal towards
saving the day.

It is my impression that your brother was killed while
his Brigade was advancing after he had succeeded in rally-
ing it ; but I am not certain of this, nor is it material now.
"What is certain, is, that he handled his Brigade v^ell; that
he fought it as well as it was possible to fight it, and that
he died performing his duty like a noble soldier.

150

Thoro Avns one nnivcrsal expression of sorrow among all
his comrades Avlien it became certain that he was killed.
He had endeared himself to all -of them.

I am sorry that I am ahle to give you no more reminis-
cences of him. I have told you all that I now recollect,
but events crowded on so fast just at the time your brother
was killed, that I have doubtless forgotten much that I
would otherwise have remembered.

Very Eespectfully,

Your Obd't Serv't,
W. B. Franklin,

Maj. Gen. U. S. Vols.
Henry M. Benedict, Esq.,
Albany, N. Y.

H'd. Qrs. 19th A. C, Camp Russell, Va., 1

Nov. 29, 1864. j
Henry M. Benedict, Esq.,
Dear Sir :

"We arc still in the field, and I do not know that this
campaign, unsurpassed for its activity, is yet ended. This
has been, and is still, my excuse for not doing what has
been nearest my heart, — writing some account of your
brother. Col. Benedict, who fell under my command. I
have not had, nor have I now, the opportimity to refer to
the statistics of his military history. Under these circum-
stances you must forgive me for being brief.

Col. Benedict was honorably engaged in the siege of
Port Hudson, where he exhibited his most distinguished
military characteristic, personal courage. His first field
service under me was during the Eed Biver campaign,
where, on account of his well known gallantry and high

151

character as an officer, I selected liim to command a bri-
gade. Of his noble and patriotic death I cannot speak in
terms of too great admiration, although I am now too much
engaged to give a detailed account of the circumstances
under which it occurred.

He commanded the 3d Brigade, 1st Division 19th Army
Corps, during the battle of Sabine Cross Roads, where we
were brought into action after the 13th Corps and the cavalry
had been routed ; and he there aided in checking and driv-
ing back an overwhelming force of the enemy, flushed
with temporary success. The next day, at Pleasant Hill,
still in command of the same brigade of my division, he
fell at the head of his men bearing the brunt of that
bloody battle.

I am, my Dear Sir
Yery truly yours,

W. H. Emory,
Brig. Gen.

Dover Mines, Goochland County, Va., 1

March Uih, 1866. J
Henry M. Benedict, Esq.,
Deal' Sir :
* * * It gives me sincere pleasure to have an
opportunity to express the high appreciation which I have
of the character and services of your late lamented brother,
whom it was my good fortune to meet often during our
service in the Department of the Gulf.

He joined, to a high order of capacity and fine soldierly
qualities, a warm heart and most genial manner, so that
while he inspired confidence in his ability to command, he
also gained the warm aftection of those with whom he was
associated.

152

Ilis prosoiioo ill the coinmaiid always gave me Loth
contidence and pleasure : and his death was to me the most
saddening personal event of the campaign in which lie fell.
In this feeling I believe all in the Army of the Gulf
participated.

AVith great respect,

I am, Dear Sir,
Yr. Mo. Obd't. Serv't,

Chas, p. Stone.
Formerly Brig. Gen. and Chief of Staff,

Dept. of the Gulf.

Portland, Me., Jane 29, 1864.
Sir :

* * * I did not see the Colonel myself after the
enemy attacked. * * * p^^ both actions, of
Sabine Cross Roads and Pleasant Ilill, Col. Benedict sent
his orders to me by his Aides, and it was too dark during
the first battle for me to see him. * ^: *

The 3d Brigade was in a hard position, with its left en-
tirely unprotected. It received alone the full force of the
Enemy's attack,' which compelled it to fall back. The
gi'ound was very open and Col. Benedict much ex-
posed. As the three other Eegiments retreated towards
the right, while I retreated towards the left, I could not
see Col. B. and the remainder of the Brigade, and in the
general advance it was difficult to distinguish anything.
Col. Benedict was a most gallant soldier and fell in the
thickest of the fight. He, with his Brigade, repulsed an
attack on our left, at Sabine Cross Roads, and saved the
army fi'om being turned at that point.

153

My intercourse with your Brother was of the most
agreeable character. When I first arrived in Franldin,
La., he supphecl me with a horse, accompanied me to a
good camp ground, which he had previously chosen for
my Reg't., and in various ways evidenced his forethought
and care. Such attention was unexpected and pleasant,
for, in my previous experience, I had always been left to
find my own camp ground and everything else. Our
acquaintance, thus happily begun, continued till we became
good friends. I sympathize with you in your great loss.

I recollect that just as the enemy emerged from the
woods, I looked around, and saw the Colonel sitting upon
his horse, near the brow of the slope and by the side of his
!Brio:ade color. He was in full view of the whole attack-
ing line of the enemy. The Brigade fell back over that
slope. I did not see him afterwards, but understood that
he fell somewhat in front and near the place where I last
saw him.

I regret that I can give you no more explicit informa-
tion.

I am very truly

Your Obd't. Servant,
Henry M. Benedict. Francis Fessenden.

Brig. Gen. U. S. V.

Saratoga Springs,
December 16, 1865.

}

Henry M. Benedict, Esq.
Dear Sir :
* * • * I was well acquainted with your Brother
before the "War, but did not meet him in the Army until
the advance on Alexandria, La., during the Red River
Campaign in 1864.

154

Oil i1r' iiinix-li. lio passed me several times on his way
Irom till' roar to tlie front, and, sometimes, when my com-
mand was marching on liis tiank, I had opportunities to
converse with him for hours. He was commanding: a
Brigade of Infantry. He expressed himself veiy confident
of success when speaking of the final result of the Union
cause, hut did not seem over sanguine as to that of the
campaign.

After we left Alexandria, I did not see him until the
morning after the battle of Sabine Cross Eoads, when, by
chance, he rode into my camp, at Pleasant Hill, about
2 A. M, I had received orders to saddle, and was taking my
coffee when he came up to my fire and took breakfast with
me. He gave me a full account of that fight, and said his
men had behaved splendidly.

I left him at 4 o'clock that morning, and did not see him
again until the afternoon when I saw him lifeless. He had
been killed in his front line while repelling a charge of the
enemy. He was greatly beloved by his men, and equally
respected by his superiors in command. There was no
braver man, no warmer friend, than Col. Lew. Benedict.
He has joined the thousands who gave their lives for their
country, and History, I trust, will do him justice; l)nt, if
it should not, he will receive it from many who saw him
standing as a mark for the sharpshooters of the enemy,
charging in three lines, and heard, above the roar of battle,
his last words : " Steady, Boys ! they must not pass this
line ! Charge ! "

In that charge he fell.

I am, very Respectfully,
Your Obd't. Servt,

Morgan H. Chrysler,
Col. 2d X. Y. Yet. Cav.,

and Bv't. Maj. Gen. U. S. Y.

155

Head-Quarters Excelsior (2nd) Brigade
4th Division, 2nd Army Corps,
April 28(h,'[SQL
Dear Sir :

I was deeply pained yesterday to hear of the death of
your brother Colonel Lewis Benedict.

I trust that the intimate relations which existed between
the late Colonel and myself, during his term of service as
Lieut. Colonel of my Regiment, will warrant me in express-
ing to yourself and the other members of your family, the
sincere and heartfelt sympathy not only of myself, but of
every ofB.cer and soldier in the 4th Regt. Excelsior Brigade
in this hour of your affliction.

For more than a year, the late Colonel and myself were
comrades in arms; frequently occupying the same tent,
sleeping under the same blanket — during that time our
relations were ever of the most kindly nature.

As a soldier he was brave and gallant — as a man, true in
every relation of life — as a son, a brother, a citizen and
friend. His many noble qualities of mind and heart,
endeared him to all. He was an oihcer whose loss to the
service is iri'^parable. His influence and exertions were
always given to elevate the tone and standard of the Vol-
unteer service in camp, while his patriotism and gallantry
have been conspicuous in the field.

He has moistened with his life's blood the tree of Liberty.

May Almighty God grant that all the sons that have been

given, and the blood which has been poured forth in the

defence of our glorious flag may not have been given and

shed in vain.

I am. Sir,

Very Respt'fy Yours,

Wm. R. Brewstee,

To E. A. Benedict, Esq.,
l^ew York.

Col. Comd'g Brigade.

THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY
REFERENCE DEPARTMENT

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Full text of "A memorial of Brevet Brigadier General Lewis Benedict, colonel of 162d regiment N. Y. V. I., who fell in battle at Pleasant Hill, La., April 9, 1864"

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