from the literary department in 1861. He immediately entered service as adjutant of the Seventh Michigan infantry—the regiment which led the advance of Burnside's army across the river in the battle of Fredericksburg. He was shot through the body in the battle of Fair Oaks, the bullet, it was said, passing through both lungs. This wound led to his discharge for disability. Landon returned to Ann Arbor and took a course in the medical department of the University, after which he reentered service as assistant surgeon of his old regiment. He survived the war, and became a physician and surgeon of repute, a pillar in the Episcopal church, and an excellent citizen. Landon was a prince of good fellows, always bubbling over with fun, drollery, and wit; and, withal, a fine vocalist, with a rich bass voice. In the winter of 1863-64, he often came to see me in my camp on the Rapidan, near Stevensburg, Virginia, and there was no man in the army whose visits were more welcome.

AUSTIN BLAIR

Zacharias was graduated in 1860. He went to Mississippi and became principal of a military institute. Military schools were numerous in the South. It will be remembered that General W.T. Sherman was engaged in similar work in Louisiana. "Stonewall" Jackson was professor of military science in Virginia. The South had its full share of cadets in West Point, so that the opening of hostilities found the two sections by no means on an equality, in the matter of educated officers. Zacharias came north, and went out in the Seventh Michigan infantry, in which he was promoted to captain. He was mortally wounded in the battle of Antietam. When his body was recovered on the field, after the battle, a letter addressed to his father was found clasped in his hand. It read as follows:

The reference, in a previous paragraph, to General Cass, recalls the name of Norval E. Welch, a student of law, who was remarkable for his handsome face and figure. It is related of him that on an occasion when he was in Detroit, he happened to walk past the residence of General Cass, who was then, I believe, one of the United States senators from Michigan. The latter was so much impressed with the appearance of Welch, that he called him back and inquired his name, which was readily given. After a few moments' conversation, Cass asked Welch how he would like to be his private secretary, and, receiving a favorable response, tendered him the appointment on the spot. Welch served in that capacity until Cass went into the Cabinet of President Buchanan, when he came to Ann Arbor and took up the study of the law. When the Sixteenth Michigan infantry was organized, he was commissioned major, and was killed when leaping, sword in hand, over the confederate breastworks at Peebles's Farm, September 30, 1864. He had, in the meantime, been promoted to the colonelcy of his regiment.

Morris B. Wells was a graduate of the law department. He went into the war as an officer of the same regiment with Welch, but was subsequently promoted to be lieutenant colonel of the Twenty-first Michigan infantry. He was killed at Chickamauga.

No two men could be less alike in appearance than Norval Welch and Morris Wells. One was the embodiment of physical beauty, ruddy with health, overflowing with animal spirits, ready for a frolic, apt with the foils, dumb-bells or boxing gloves, but not particularly a student; the other, tall, rather slender, with an intellectual cast of countenance, frank and manly in his bearing, but somewhat reserved in manner and undemonstrative. Both were conspicuous for their gallantry, but the one impelled by that exuberant physical courage which is distinctive of the leonine type; the other an exemplar of that moral heroism which leads men to brave danger for a principle. They gave everything—even their lives—for their country.

The list might be indefinitely extended, but more is not needed to illustrate the spirit of the college boys of 1861-62.

But the students did not all go. Many remained then, only to go later. The prospect of danger, hardship, privation, was the least of the deterrent forces that held them back. To go meant much in most cases. It was to give up cherished plans and ambitions; to abandon their studies and turn aside from the paths that had been marked out for their future lives. Some had just entered that year upon the prescribed course of study; others were half way through; and others still, were soon to be graduated. It seemed hard to give it all up. But even these sacrifices were slight compared to those made by older men and heads of families.

And there was no need to depopulate the University at once. The first call filled, those who were left behind began to prepare for whatever might come. The students organized into military companies. Hardee's tactics became the leading text-book. There were three companies or more. These formed a battalion and there was a major to command it. One company was styled "The Tappan Guard," after the venerable President, and it was made up of as fine a body of young men as ever formed in line. Most of them found their way into the federal army and held good positions. The captain was Isaac H. Elliott, of Illinois, the athlete, par excellence, of the University, a tall, handsome man and a senior. "Tom" Wier, a junior, was first lieutenant and the writer second lieutenant. Elliott went to the war as colonel of an Illinois regiment of infantry and was afterwards, for many years, adjutant general of that state. Wier went out in the Third Michigan cavalry and became its lieutenant colonel. At the close of the war he was given a commission as second lieutenant in the Seventh United States cavalry, Custer's regiment, was brevetted twice for gallantry, and after escaping massacre with his chief at Little Big Horn, died of disease in New York City in 1876.

CHAPTER III

RECRUITING IN MICHIGAN

Ann Arbor was not the only town where the fires of patriotism were kept burning. It was one of many. "From one learn all." The state was one vast recruiting station. There was scarcely a town of importance which had not a company forming for some one or other of the various regiments that were organizing all through the year. Before the close of the year, aside from the three months men, three regiments of cavalry, eleven regiments of infantry, and five batteries were sent out, all for three years. There was little difficulty in getting recruits to fill these organizations to their maximum standard. No bounties were paid, no draft was resorted to. And, yet, the pay for enlisted men was but thirteen dollars a month. The calls of the President, after the first one for seventy-five thousand, were generally anticipated by the governor, and the troops would be in camp before they were called for, if not before they were needed. The personnel was excellent, and at first great pains were taken to select experienced and competent officers. Alpheus S. Williams, Orlando B. Wilcox, Israel B. Richardson, John C. Robinson, Orlando M. Poe, Thornton F. Brodhead, Gordon Granger, Phillip H. Sheridan and R.H.G. Minty were some of the names that appeared early in the history of Michigan in the war. Under their able leadership, hundreds of young men were instructed in the art