Doleful Tales by Deserters from Lee's Army—President Lincoln's Visit to the Front—A Memorable Meeting—The Fort Steadman Assault—Lincoln on Horseback—At the Head of the Column—Wan ted to Get Off and Pull Down his Pants.

ESERTERS from the Confederate army at Petersburg came into the Federal lines with doleful tales of hunger and hardships. The “bull pen” near Meade's headquarters was filled with Johnnies who had run away from Lee's army. They had seen the handwriting on the wall, and were convinced that they had been fighting for a lost cause; the hopelessness of the struggle had struck home to their hearts—and stomachs. In March, 1865, before Grant began the movement on the left of Petersburg, a number of rebels came through the lines and surrendered.

“We can't stand another campaign,” said a rebel deserter at the bull pen. “We can't march and fight on quarter rations of meal and only a smell of meat.”

“Do you think the Confederacy is gone up?”

“Shuah's yo born, but Bobby Lee's game. He'll fight till the last ounce of powder is used up.”

“What's the use?”

“No use, except to show his fidelity to the cause.”

“He has shown that already.”

“So he has, and he's in a mighty bad way.”

In the latter part of March the signs began to indicate that a general break-up was at hand. Dispatch bearers were seen on all sides, dashing away with messages from army headquarters to corps commanders in the lines in front of Petersburg. Horses were being shod, army wagons overhauled—the thousand and one things betokening a move were noticed in the camps.

At Meade's headquarters it was understood that Grant intended to begin hammering again on or about the first of April, and the boys were satisfied that there would be no April fool business about it.

President Lincoln visited Grant's headquarters, and was present when the Federal army moved “on to Richmond” for the last time. The President arrived about March 22, and he did not return to Washington till after the fall of Richmond, which city he entered the day after Jeff Davis fled. Lincoln was at City Point when Sheridan arrived after he had whipped Early out of the Valley. And here, too, came Sherman, the hero of the March to the Sea.

Tuesday, March 28, Gen. Meade rode down to the point and conferred with the general-in-chief. It was the day before that fixed for the movement. An informal council was held between Lincoln, Grant, Sheridan, Sherman and Meade. It was the first and last time that these five great men were ever together. In Richardson's Personal History of Grant, the following pen-picture of the group is given:

“Lincoln, tall, round-shouldered, loose-jointed, large-featured, deep-eyed, with a smile upon his face, is dressed in black, and wears a fashionable silk hat. Grant is at Lincoln's right, shorter, stouter, more compacts wears a military hat with a stiff broad brim, has his hands in his pantaloons pockets, and is puffing away at a cigar while listening to Sherman. Sherman, tall, with high, commanding forehead, is almost as loosely built as Lincoln; has sandy whiskers, closely-cropped, and sharp, twinkling eyes, slouched hat, his pantaloons tucked into his boots. He is talking hurriedly, gesticulating to Lincoln, now to Grant, his eyes wandering everywhere. Meade, also tall, with thin, sharp features, a gray beard and spectacles, is a little stooping in his gait. Sheridan, the shortest of all, quick and energetic in all his movements, with a face bronzed by sun and wind, is courteous, affable and a thorough soldier.”

Lincoln visited Meade also. I was one of the detachment sent to the railroad station to receive the President and escort him to headquarters. Orders had been issued for a grand review in honor of the chief magistrate, but before Lincoln had reached the station the troops were more seriously engaged. Gen. Lee had discovered that his situation was becoming more critical each hour that he remained in Richmond, and he determined to make a break for the Union works near the Appomattox, on the Petersburg line. If he could capture and hold Fort Steadman and the ridge in rear of it, he could seriously cripple Grant's army and perhaps seize City Point.

General John B. Gordon was the commander selected by Lee to undertake the capture of the works. The assault was successful so far as getting into and taking possession of Fort Steadman was concerned, but the Federals rallied and recaptured the fort, the guns of which had been turned on our works to the right and left. The rebels had plunged into the Union lines in the darkness. The pickets were scarcely one hundred and fifty feet apart in front of Fort Steadman, and the main earthworks were separated by about as many yards. It is said that Gordon had the utmost confidence in the success of the expedition. He had been assured that the assault would be supported by troops from A. P. Hill and Longstreet's corps. It was a bold attack, but the gallant boys in blue, though driven from the fort and some of the works in the immediate vicinity at the outset, returned to the front, and the rebel general found that he had no time to spare in getting back behind the Confederate breastworks. The Johnnies were routed with great loss, and nearly two thousand prisoners were captured by the Federals.

The attack on Fort Steadman woke up the whole army. Meade concluded to give the Johnnies all the fighting they wanted, and he ordered the Second and Sixth corps—occupying the line to the left of the Ninth corps in the front of which the rebel assault was made—to push out and see what was going on in their front.

The boys went forward with a cheer, and the Confederate pickets were driven back into the main fortifications, the rifle pits and the strongly intrenched picket line being taken by the assaulting forces. Nearly nine hundred Johnnies were captured.

Several counter charges were made by the rebels to drive our boys out of the works, but they satisfied themselves that the Yankees had come to stay. It was a cold day for the Confederates all along the line.

President Lincoln witnessed the battle in front of the Second and Sixth corps. He was on a ridge near the signal tower of the Second corps. Several ladies—I think Mrs. Grant, and I don't know but Mrs. Lincoln was in the party—were there. They had been driven out from the railroad in an ambulance to see the review, but the President came to the front mounted.

As a horseman Lincoln was not a success. As I remember it, he rode Grant's best horse. Several staff officers were at the station with a detachment of cavalry to look after the President. The latter's clothes seemed to fit him when he got into the saddle, but before he dismounted at the signal tower he presented a sorry spectacle indeed. The cavalry escort reached the station a few minutes before the train from the Point came puffing along. The President stood on the platform of the only passenger coach. The escort presented sabers and Lincoln acknowledged the salute by raising his hat.

Then he came down from the cab and shook hands with the staff officers, who seemed to feel highly complimented to be recognized by the commander-in-chief. But when the President extended his hand to a high private of the rear rank who stood holding the horse His Excellency was to ride, and insisted on shaking hands with each soldier of the escort, the wearers of shoulder straps appeared to be dazed at such familiarity. The honored head of the greatest nation on earth recognizing in the wearer of the plain blue blouse of a humble private a fellow citizen! Military red tape could not comprehend it, but it made no difference with “Father Abraham”; he had a way of doing just as he pleased on such occasions. As the President advanced to mount, the orderly in charge of the horse, with a sly glance at Lincoln's legs, said:

“You ride a longer stirrup than the general, sir. I'll fix them in a jiffy.”

“No, no, my man; never mind. The stirrups are all right. I don't like to stand on my toes in the saddle.”

Then the President threw his right leg over the horse's back and smiled at the orderly's surprise at such an unmilitary exhibition as Lincoln made of himself in getting into the saddle.

“Thank you,” said the great emancipator, as the orderly relinquished his hold of the bridle, and the horse with his distinguished rider began to dance around ready for the word “Forward.”

The staff officers sprang into their saddles, the escort broke into columns of fours, and the party started for the front. The President had jammed his hat well down over the back of his head to keep it from falling off. He leaned forward in the saddle so that his chin almost touched the horse's mane. His coat was unbuttoned and soon worked itself up around his arms and flapped out behind. His vest seceded from his pantaloons and went up toward his neck, so that his white shirt showed between the vest and trousers like a sash. And it did not take long for the pantaloons to creep up the long legs of the distinguished visitor. Up to the knees they went—and higher. The President discovered that he was not cutting a very fine figure, but he had no time to fix things. His horse required all his attention, and more, too. The animal knew he was entitled to the head of the column, and he kept there.

Some of the staff officers, fearing perhaps that the horse would run away with the President, essayed to ride alongside and seize the bridle. The attempt proved a dismal failure. On went the fiery steed, bearing his honored rider out the road toward the breastworks. Lincoln held on. Now his feet were in the stirrups with his knees bobbing up nearly to his chin; anon his feet were out of the stirrups and his long legs dangled down almost to the ground. As we approached the line of battle of the Second corps, it was understood that the horse had “taken the bit in his mouth.” Would he stop when he reached the group of officers up on the knoll, or would he go on and carry the President into the battle over there between the forts? Whatever apprehensions may have been felt by the chief magistrate or any of those in the escort on this score, were quieted as we drew near to the signal tower. The horse slackened his speed and gave the President an opportunity to shake himself a little, so that his coat and pantaloons were to some extent brought back where they belonged.

The President seemed to regain his wonted good nature at once upon halting, and when some of the general officers who came to greet him asked him how he had enjoyed his ride, he exclaimed, with a merry twinkle in his eye: “It was splendid. I don't know but I rode a little too fast for the gentlemen who followed, but I was anxious to get here—or somewhere—where I could have a good view of the fight and get off and pull down my pants.”

And Father Abraham laughed heartily as he joined the group near the signal tower. Did the President relate an anecdote or two called up by the incidents of the trip? No; for the booming of the cannon, the roaring of the musketry and the cheers of the troops as they marched by and took up the double quick to join in the assault on the enemy's outer works in front of Petersburg, called the attention of all to the serious events transpiring so close at hand.

How the soldiers cheered when informed of Lincoln's presence! They waved their caps and held their muskets over their heads as they pushed on, many of them to die in a few minutes in that desperate struggle for the rebel pits and breastworks.

Meade succeeded in capturing and holding several important points in front of Petersburg, and the poor Johnnies were more discouraged than ever before. The President and his party returned to City Point that night, and he remained at Grant's headquarters till after the lieutenant-general moved out to the left and until the fall of Richmond.