services were needed; but he replied that there would probably be no more fighting, and thanking us for our offer, he issued an order returning us to our homes. The regiment was finally mustered out at Hartford, August 26, 1863.

In closing this brief sketch of the history of the gallant Twenty-fifth Regiment, a few words may be permitted in praise of the good and true men of which it was composed. With very few and unimportant exceptions, they were of the best sort of men, who were ever banded together for the defense of their country. They submitted to rigorous discipline cheerfully, they marched promptly and they fought bravely. A review of official records shows that the regiment was complimented a great many times by General Grover A. Birge for the promptness with which it always moved and for its bravery as shown time and again in battle and under severe fire.

Ever ready and always pushed to the front in time of danger of an attack, the Twenty-fifth was an organization of which the state need not be ashamed. When it was in the field it was an honor to the army and to the volunteer service of our country, and now that fifty years have rolled by the heart of many a survivor swells with just pride as he says to his children and grandchildren: "I was a member of the Twenty-fifth Connecticut."

In closing this brief sketch of the Twenty-fifth Regiment, of which Colonel Bissell is the author, you will see that he was very proud of the men under his command and if you could have seen him drilling his regiment at that time, as I still see him in memory, you would know that he fairly worshiped them. I am sure the men would have followed him into any fire against overwhelming odds. And now he is gone, the men that are left cherish his memory.

INTERESTING REMINISCENCES AND EXPERIENCES BY SAMUEL K. ELLIS.

In opening the subject of my experiences as a private in the War of the Rebellion, I hardly know how to begin as this is the first time I have attempted to write at length upon this subject. I earnestly hope that all those who read this little book will excuse all grammatical errors.

Fifty years have come and gone and as my life has been spared to see the fiftieth anniversary of my army life, and as I kept a diary during my term of service in the War of the Rebellion, I thought it no more than right and just to myself and descendants that I leave in book form some of the many experiences I saw and passed through during that time. It seemed to me that it was a grand opportunity on this the fiftieth anniversary to do it, if I ever did. Hoping that this account of my army life may be highly appreciated and prized by my children and grandchildren and any others that may be interested, I will endeavor to give a complete account as I saw and recorded events.

I was a Vernon Center boy but was working in the town of Glastonbury, when the war broke out, with Hubbard and Broadhead at teaming and farm work. At this time the gloom was deep but the people were not discouraged. At the request of the governors of eighteen loyal states, President Lincoln, on July 2nd, 1862, called out three hundred thousand men for three years' service, and on August 4, ordered a call for three hundred thousand men for nine months. At this time it was hard to tell what one's duty was, but I had made up my mind to go and of course I have never been sorry, as I look back and say with just pride that I was one who went out to help save our Republic from dissolution and preserve civilization itself on this Western Hemisphere from destruction.

I fear I have been wandering from my subject already but I could not help giving expression to the thoughts that were burning within me. Yes, I was a Vernon Center boy, my father moving there when I was sixteen years old. I enlisted September 2nd, 1862, in Company G, Twenty-fifth Regiment, C.V. Our company met in Hartford, near the old State House (what is now City Hall), on the morning of September 8th. We marched down to camp before noon on that day, but instead of finding tents to sleep in we found a string of barracks long enough for a thousand men. I want to tell you how they looked as I remember them. They resembled the cattle sheds that we see nowadays at our fairs, except that they were built with three tiers, instead of one. The bunks were made for two men, one above the other, about four feet wide. Of course we had to have a little straw to lay over the "soft side" of the boards. This building I believe we named "The Palace Hotel" because of its "great beauty and comfort." I wonder if you can imagine how tempting those bunks looked after leaving the good beds that we had been accustomed to. I think there were some pretty homesick boys that first night in our new quarters, if I remember correctly. But the food! Well, I don't think I had better say much about that, for I had been a farmer boy and I think I had the advantage over some of the boys, as I knew what it was to rough it and go without my dinner in the winter time when the days were short and I would be out in the woods all day chopping, or drawing logs with an ox team.

We left our old camp ground on November 18, 1862, with flying colors, to the tune of "Dixie" and "The Star Spangled Banner," and other patriotic airs. But all this did not occur without many tearful eyes, for the streets were crowded with friends and loved ones that were to be left behind. We pulled out of the dock at the foot of State street on the steamer City of Hartford about four o'clock in the afternoon. We arrived at Williamsburg, L.I., early the next morning, and the good people of that city treated us with all the sandwiches and coffee that we wanted. We marched about ten miles, with a portable bureau or what you might call a knapsack on our backs, before one o'clock that day, to the Centerville race course. We pitched our tents and made things as comfortable as we could for the night as you must know it was quite cold weather, it being the last of November. There is no place that reveals the real character of a man so quickly and so clearly as a shelter tent in an army on the field. All there is in him, be it noble or base, strong or weak, is brought to the front by the peculiar experiences of the soldier. The life of a soldier in camp is tedious and wearisome, but when a regiment starts for the field under a government not prepared for war (ours was not), the real trials of the soldier begin. When our regiment arrived at the camp at Centerville, after a march of ten miles, we found that no provision had been made for us,—and it now being the last of November. In the small hours of the morning Colonel Bissell drilled the regiment on a double quick movement on the race course to warm us up. The regiment was ordered to embark on November 29. The Twenty-fifth regiment was to have started on Saturday when lo! just as we were drawn up in line preparatory to a start, General Banks' orderly gallops up, bringing an order for Companies C, D, F, and G to remain behind and go with the Twenty-sixth Connecticut. Here was a pretty fix, for tents, baggage, and everything had already gone. To add to our troubles up came one of the hardest rainstorms, such as only Long Island can produce. As there was no other place, we were compelled to quarter in the old barn which was later turned into a guard house, where we slept on bare boards. Not a wisp of straw had we to lie on, for it was so rainy we could not gather any.

On the evening of the fourth of December, we received marching orders, and at about 8 o'clock, we were very glad to get away from this forsaken place, which we did in a hurry. We arrived in Brooklyn about 12 o'clock that night and I assure you it was no easy matter to find a place to stay till morning. It was a long cold December night. The men got places wherever they could find them. I and several other comrades stayed with a Doctor Green. We were up early in the morning and the doctor wanted us all to stay and have breakfast with him, an invitation which we accepted with thanks. I wrote a letter