I returned to New York, procured my uniform, and immediately reported at Auburn, where the Twenty-fourth cavalry was rendezvoused. To my surprise, I found that they were under orders to proceed at once to Washington. When I reported to Colonel Raulston, commanding, he told me that he proposed to assign me to Company D, as this company had no captain, and he did not think the first lieutenant, who had recruited most of the men, was likely to remain long in the service and was unable to enforce the necessary discipline. Though I was a second lieutenant, he expected to hold me responsible for the safe conduct of the men to Washington and the drilling and care of the company. It seems that the first lieutenant, who was a well-meaning man, was not suited for military life; he did not realize what was required and expected of him, was incapable of securing the confidence of the men, and totally ignorant of the duties of a company commander; and consequently with his concurrence and with perfect good feeling between us, I took charge of the company, drilled them, and had practically charge of them until compelled to leave them by reason of wounds, as will be explained later.

The regiment left Auburn for Washington via Elmira and Baltimore. It rode in passenger-cars from Auburn to Elmira, and at Elmira, notwithstanding the season of the year, February, the regiment was placed in freight-cars and was thus transported to Baltimore. As the men had received large bounties I was, I assume, in common with the other company commanders, told that I would be held responsible should any of my men desert while en route to Washington. The train made frequent stops and was held at stations to allow other traffic to pass, and I think we were something like forty-eight hours en route. It seemed to me hard to keep the men cramped up in these cars in which they simply had planks to sit on, so I told them that at each station we stopped at I would allow a certain number to get out and take a little exercise, but that in accepting this privilege if any of them took advantage of it to desert I would have to suffer for it, yet I would take the chances that they would be fair to me. This they were, since none of them deserted.

Before reaching Baltimore an amusing incident occurred that illustrates a volunteer soldier's idea of discipline on joining the army. At one of the stopping-places where my men were out walking on the platform, Lieutenant-Colonel Newberry remarked that he noticed my men out at every station, intimating that I was not holding them well in hand. I replied that I thought it a hardship not to let them take some exercise, the weather being cold, but that if he directed me not to allow them to leave the cars I would carry out his instructions. At this he turned and made no reply. A couple of Irishmen of my company overheard the conversation, one of whom exclaimed: "I say, Lieutenant, if you say the word we will belt hell out of him, so we will!" Ordering the men to get in the car, I had great difficulty to refrain from laughing. If the Colonel heard the remark he doubtless was amused at it; at any rate he ignored it. He had a keen sense of the ludicrous, and no officer could be more considerate of his men than he subsequently proved to be. When the train conveying the regiment reached Baltimore, the sides of many of the cars had been stripped of their covering, which had been used to make fires en route. We finally reached the old Baltimore and Ohio station in Washington at night, it being very cold. From there we marched to Camp Stoneman, a cavalry camp of instruction across Potomac Creek, where the regiment was drilled and put in shape for the campaign that began in May.

Having had experience in a cavalry regiment and being familiar with cavalry tactics, and also with the various details of camp duties, I was able to suggest how my inexperienced men could be comfortable in camp, as soon as we reached Camp Stoneman. The regiment was, in May, assigned to Burnside's Ninth Corps, and joined the Army of the Potomac, after a hard day's march, the afternoon of the second day of the battle of the Wilderness. As soon as our regiment advanced into the woods, I was selected to take command of a skirmish line that was to cover, as I remember, the front of our brigade. I assumed that I was selected for this duty, though only a second lieutenant in rank, because of the fact of my prior service with the Harris Light Cavalry and with Generals Gregg and Kilpatrick. Nothing serious occurred, however, to my command that day.

On the evening of the last day of the battle of the Wilderness we built a new line of breastworks, which were in close proximity to the enemy's lines. With a view to sparing my men, who were then much exhausted, I had the works in my front built by stragglers from other regiments, of whom there were a large number, releasing them when the work was finished. At dark, in order to prevent a surprise, as it was extremely difficult to keep the men awake, we placed a line of pickets about fifty yards outside of our works. A short time after, some one on our line fired a shot, when immediately the whole line arose and began shooting. Believing that it was a false alarm, I jumped up to look over the breastworks to see if I could see any firing from the enemy's lines. At that moment I heard our pickets outside, who were subjected to this fire, calling out, "For God's sake stop firing, you are killing your own men!" Running along the line giving orders to stop the firing, I had a narrow escape from one excited fellow who fired his carbine off, the muzzle of which was close to my ear as I was in the act of grabbing another man who, in his excitement, was about to shoot. The line, however, soon quieted down.

Presently a messenger came to me and speaking in a low tone directed me to keep a sharp lookout and when I saw the troops on my right move, to have my men follow as noiselessly as possible, and he enjoined me to see that the men carried their canteens and tin cups in their hands in order that no noise might be heard by the enemy whose lines were so close by. I was soon notified, "They are moving." Quickly walking along the line I awoke the men and cautioned them to be as quiet as possible. In this manner we moved out and for some moments were in suspense lest the enemy hear the movement and, by attacking, stop it. After a while we reached a place where we could form in column of fours, and all that night we marched through narrow roads in the woods of that region, halting every few minutes because of obstructions due to teams and other troops in our front. This fatiguing process continued until about daylight, when we reached the main road where the country was open. We were all greatly depressed, since after the three days' desperate fighting at the Wilderness no apparent advantage had been gained, and we assumed that the army had been unsuccessful and that it was an attempt to retreat. We soon came to a house outside of which I saw a colored woman apparently dressed up, since it was Sunday. I called out to her and asked what road we were marching on. Upon hearing her reply, "The road to Spottsylvania Court House," a thrill of satisfaction instantly passed through every man in the column, since then we realized that we at last had a general and that our movement was south and towards the rear of Lee's army. From that time until the end of my service I never had any misgiving as to Grant's capacity to lead us to final victory.

It was on this morning that I first saw General Grant. The road ahead was blocked and our men were lying in it when some one called out, "Get your men to one side to allow General Grant to pass." Grant, however, gave directions not to disturb the tired men, many of whom were asleep, and turned into a field. We were all up, however, anxious to see him. He appeared riding a small black horse with his feet not more than two feet from the ground. He had a couple of staff-officers with him, one of whom was Captain Parker, an Indian, and an orderly. His unpretentious appearance excited the comment of all, and had we not been told who he was he would have attracted no more attention than an ordinary line officer.