K, Third Vermont, was, in the autumn
of 1861, found asleep at his post on the picket line. It was a grave
fault; but the weary soldier, inexperienced in the service, and
unaccustomed to such night vigils, in an evil hour yielded to the
demands of tired nature, little thinking that the lives of hundreds of
his comrades were periled by his unfaithfulness. He was tried by a
court-martial and sentenced to be shot. The sentence was approved, and
at the appointed time he was brought forth to execution. General Smith,
desiring to impress upon the minds of his men the terrible consequences
of such an offense, formed his troops in line. The culprit was brought
out before them, and led to the place of execution. The guard, with
loaded muskets, stood ready to execute the dreadful sentence, which was
read before all the troops. All waited in breathless expectation for the
order to fire; but instead another paper was read. It was a pardon from
the President! Then the wildest shouts of joy ran along the line. Shout
after shout arose from the division, and hundreds blessed the name of
President Lincoln.

There were many circumstances to render this a case of peculiar
interest. It was the first sentence of the kind; it was at the beginning
of the war, when a soldier's life was regarded of value, and when all
eyes were riveted upon the army, and every incident was of interest. It
was also the first instance of the kind in which the executive clemency
had been exercised. So near had the hour of execution arrived when the
President signed the pardon, that, fearing it might not be received in
season, he took his carriage and drove to camp, to assure himself that
the man's life should be spared.

"I will show President Lincoln that I am not afraid to die for my
country," said the grateful soldier; and well did he fulfill his
promise. Among the bravest of those two hundred heroes who crossed the
swamp at Lee's Mills, was William Scott, of Company K, Third Vermont.
But he was brought back a corpse. He had shown the President that he was
not afraid to die for his country. He was one of the foremost in the
charge, and one of the first to fall. His comrades made his grave under
the shadow of the tall pines, and as they folded his blanket around him,
and lowered him to his resting place, tears stood upon those brown
cheeks; but the tears of sorrow were mingled with tears of joy, when
they thought of his glorious death, and his narrow escape fro