which attaches to the Sixth Corps is largely due to the leadership of
Wright. If he fell short at Cedar Creek in 1864 it was a lapse which
may be pardoned in the circumstances. Sheridan retrieved the day
and magnanimously palliated the misfortune of Wright. "It might have
happened to me or to any man." The good soldier deserves the fine
monument which stands by his grave in the foreground at Arlington.

I had at Port Royal a long and friendly talk with Isaac I. Stevens. He
was already a man of note. After achieving the highest honours at West
Point he had gone to the West, and in the great unexplored Pacific
Northwest had conquered, built, and systematised until a fair
foundation was laid for the fine civilisation which now sixty years
later has been reared upon it. He was modest in his bearing, with
well-knit and sinewy frame, and possessed at the same time refined
manners and a taste for the higher things of life. Before the year had
passed, his life went out in the second battle of Bull Run. In the
end of that terrible campaign, he essayed with Phil Kearny to stem at
Chantilly the rush of Stonewall Jackson upon Washington. The attempt
was successful, but Stevens died waving the colours at the head of
his men. It is said that Lincoln had marked him for the command of the
Army of the Potomac. He had made good in all previous positions, and
perhaps would have made good in the chief place, but here I stumble
once more upon a might-have-been and am silent.

Dear ghosts of old-time friends swarm in my thought as I dream of
those days. The white marbles in Memorial Chapel solemnly bear the
names of Harvard's Civil War soldiers and tell how they died. There
was one of whom I might say much, an elder companion, a wise and
pleasant spirit who did something toward my shaping for life. A
cannon-ball at Cold Harbor was the end for him. There was another,