ant Moies, and to the great joy
of the entire regiment, the man who fired failed to obey the stereotyped
order to "fire low," and the misdirected bullet went over the head of our
esteemed lieutenant, and his valuable life was spared.

Since this paper was prepared, Lieutenant Moies has been "mustered out." I
knew him well as a neighbor and as a soldier. Together we slept on the
field with the same starry canopy for our covering, and together on the
weary march we shared the scanty contents of the same haversack and drank
from the same canteen. For him, "war's glorious art" had no allurements.
He loved his quiet home and the peaceful pursuits of life, and when he
gave himself to the service of his country it was because, being a true
patriot, he felt that its claims upon him were greater than those of
family and friends.

"Wife, children and neighbor,
May mourn at his knell;
He was lover and friend
Of his country as well."

His rank in the service, when measured by the army standard, was a
subordinate one, but had his shoulders been covered with eagles or stars,
he could not have been other than the same quiet, unassuming
citizen-soldier that he was, winning by his modest demeanor, sterling
integrity, and kindliness of heart, the esteem of his brother officers,
and the love and affection of his men. I know whereof I speak, when I say
that no officer who went from Rhode Island was more respected and beloved
by his command than was Lieutenant Thomas Moies, and by none is his death
more sincerely mourned than by those who served under him in Virginia in
1862-3. Such was the man--such was the soldier.

CHAPTER VI.

Elsewhere I have spoken of an "unconditional surrender" Union man whom I
overhauled while on picket duty on the Norfolk and Petersburg railroad.
All southern men--and women, too, as to that matter--were not so loyal as
that old man was, as is shown by the following incident which occurred on
the morning of our arrival in Suffolk. While marching down the principal
street we were halted for a few minutes. Immediately all the doorsteps of
the houses were appropriated by our men to their own use. My doorstep
belonged to a house which had all the appearance of being occupied by one
of the "first families." Presently a well dressed, intelligent looking,
elderly lady appeared at the door and inquired what regiment ours was.
Before time was given me to reply, a comrade who was sharing the step with