made my report, and had my brigade about as well governed as any in that army; although most of the ninety-day men, especially the Sixty-ninth, had become extremely tired of the war, and wanted to go home.  Some of them were so mutinous, at one time, that I had the battery to unlimber, threatening, if they dared to leave camp without orders, I would open fire on them.  Drills and the daily exercises were resumed, and I ordered that at the three principal roll-calls the men should form ranks with belts and muskets, and that they should keep their ranks until I in person had received the reports and had dismissed them.  The Sixty-ninth still occupied Fort Corcoran, and one morning, after reveille, when I had just received the report, had dismissed the regiment, and was leaving, I found myself in a crowd of men crossing the drawbridge on their way to a barn close by, where they had their sinks; among them was an officer, who said:  “Colonel, I am going to New York today.  What can I do for you?” I answered:  “How can you go to New York?  I do not remember to have signed a leave for you.”  He said, “No; he did not want a leave.  He had engaged to serve three months, and had already served more than that time.  If the Government did not intend to pay him, he could afford to lose the money; that he was a lawyer, and had neglected his business long enough, and was then going home.”  I noticed that a good many of the soldiers had paused about us to listen, and knew that, if this officer could defy me, they also would.  So I turned on him sharp, and said:  “Captain, this question of your term of service has been submitted to the rightful authority, and the decision has been published in orders.  You are a soldier, and must submit to orders till you are properly discharged.  If you attempt to leave without orders, it will be mutiny, and I will shoot you like a dog!  Go back into the fort now, instantly, and don’t dare to leave without my consent.”  I had on an overcoat, and may have had my hand about the breast, for he looked at me hard, paused a moment, and then turned back into the fort.  The men scattered, and I returned to the house where I was quartered, close by.

That same day, which must have been about July 26th, I was near the river-bank, looking at a block-house which had been built for the defense of the aqueduct, when I saw a carriage coming by the road that crossed the Potomac River at Georgetown by a ferry.  I thought I recognized in the carriage the person of President Lincoln.  I hurried across a bend, so as to stand by the road-side as the carriage passed.  I was in uniform, with a sword on, and was recognized by Mr. Lincoln and Mr. Seward, who rode side by side in an open hack.  I inquired if they were going to my camps, and Mr. Lincoln said:  “Yes; we heard that you had got over the big scare, and we thought we would come over and see the ‘boys.’” The roads had been much changed and were rough.  I asked if I might give directions to his coachman,