aristocracy—from the power of the people to the one man power; a repudiation of the doctrine on which the Republic was founded;—nay, more, an attempt to found a Government on a maxim of absolute injustice, the assumption that one man has the right to own another. Could such a movement succeed? Was progress baffled? Had the age begun to retreat? He proposed to fight, not for the unity of the nation alone, not alone because it was now his country, but for that principle of liberty which he saw, more fully than anywhere else embodied in her institutions,—that democratic principle which is destined one day to be the foundation of all human government.

But the great majority were native Americans, coming, immediately or remotely, from every section of the Union, with various ties and various ideas. They combined all these motives and ideas, and more. To vindicate the national honor; to avenge the insults done the flag; to overthrow all traitors and bring them to swift punishment; to save the nation from disintegration and ruin;—this was why they proposed to fight. Their country was too dear an inheritance to be easily given up. Had the Fathers fought in vain? Had Washington, Madison and Jefferson lived to organize anarchy and confound the world? Had it taken the wisdom and blood of a generation to found and build a temple which treason could tear down in an hour? Was the reason of the ages to be contradicted? Was justice to be overthrown? Was Progress to stop here? Must the Lamp of Liberty which had been lighted to guide the footsteps of the nations go out in the gloom which was gathering around us? Such were the questions we asked ourselves. As far as we could do, our deeds have answered them.

Thus of whatever section, of whatever country, with whatever ideas, we had now joined hands and were comrades,—all moving toward one grand, patriotic holy object, the preservation of our country and of liberty.

And now looking around us, we saw everywhere matter for encouragement. Every omen seemed propitious. Every circumstance argued success. The North was united. There was no party now. At worst, we could but suppose the South likewise united against us. In that case we were twenty millions; they eight millions. We had a navy; they had none. We could blockade their ports, and cut off their supplies from foreign nations. We possessed manufactures, and means of keeping up our material. In this respect they were almost entirely deficient. We possessed a variety of resources which rendered our government self-sustaining in the most adverse events. They depended solely upon cotton, which now they would not be able to sell. And then their servile population, we supposed, instead of being a help, would be a great embarrassment. Besides, were we not engaged in a just cause? and would not, then, this great disparity in our favor enable us speedily to overcome them? With such strength, fortified in right, it seemed impossible that a single reverse could come upon us. Our enthusiasm, as yet untempered by disappointment or disaster, was unbounded. The future seemed full of glorious events, and we longed to be hurried into it. We had but one desire—to be uniformed, equipped and led on.

For a leader we wanted a man, who, while possessing some knowledge of military affairs, should have none of the exclusive spirit we understood to exist among the officers of the regular army. To suit our tastes, he must be at once commander and comrade. Such a colonel we were prepared to respect—to idolize. Who was he to be? It was understood that Captain Herron and Congressman Vandever were candidates. We disliked the Captain, because he had been to a military school, and the Congressman, because he had never been to one; it was evident, we would be hard to suit. But it soon became apparent that, want whom we would, our wishes would not govern the appointment. Governor Kirkwood desired to consult only the wishes of the officers in the matter. There was a man, Nelson G. Williams, of Delaware county, whose claims to the colonelcy of one of the first regiments his friends, through the press and otherwise, had urged with great pertinacity. It was said that he was a military man, and yet a private citizen, and not a politician. Many had spoken in favor of him; no one against him. He was the man. It was determined to call this Cincinnatus from his obscurity. In a caucus of the commissioned officers he received nineteen votes, and, on the strength of this nomination, was appointed.

We were mustered into the service of the United States by Lieut. Alexander Chambers, of the regular army, since colonel of the 16th Iowa. Before this ceremony took place, the Articles of War were read to us, and from them we inferred that it was no easy matter to be a good soldier, and not at all safe to be a poor one. Those who did not wish to be sworn in after hearing them read, were allowed to decline. A few did so; and the farewell salutations these "deserters," as we chose to call them, received from their late comrades were not at all calculated to make them feel joyful or proud. As our field officers were not yet announced, Captain Herron, as senior officer, assumed command of the regiment. He was in every respect a gentleman; but his discipline, though wholesome and correct, was such as our democratic ideas enabled us poorly to appreciate.

On the 10th of June, we, for the first time, saw ourselves as a regiment. The regiment was formed in the proper order of the companies, and marched in column of sections, through the principal streets of the city. We had no arms; and every company had its own style of uniform. Nevertheless, as we marched along, we caught, from the admiring glances of the citizens, an idea of our importance, and that such a sight as we presented was not to be seen every day, and that we were destined to play no unimportant part in the war for the Union.

On the 11th of June the people of Keokuk celebrated the obsequies of Senator Douglas. Of course the "military" had to take part in it. The three regiments were assembled, and following each other in their appropriate order, marched in column of platoons, to slow time, through the principal streets, and then through clouds of dust, and under a melting sun, away up the Mississippi to a point somewhere between Keokuk and Fort Madison. Here for the first time we got sight of a hearse, magnificently trimmed in black, into which a number of verdants were seen to peek, doubtless in expectation of getting a sight of Douglas. We were allowed to break ranks which was a great relief to us, as we expected to be compelled to stand in our places and undergo the infliction of an oration. The whole being over, the battalions were again formed and marched back to their quarters to quick time. The citizens, who rode in carriages, or walked on the green sward, pronounced this military display a grand affair; but the soldiers who had been compelled to keep the dusty road, going and coming, pronounced it an intolerable bore. Some went so far as to express the profane wish that the great senator had never been born.

At this time, the First Iowa was in camp near the city. The name of their camp was Ellsworth. Their mode of life was a great novelty to us, and the fact that such was soon to be ours, gave it an additional interest. Those sentinels, marching to and fro, so stern, so mute, lent to their little city an inhospitable air, which we were not at all pleased to see. All within ten feet of their beat was forbidden ground. Why could we not trespass upon it? At least we thought there could be no harm in allowing their own men to pass out and in when they pleased. The sentinel could not explain this. He wanted to see the boys have all the privileges they wished, but he must obey his orders. Then, with