ourage, than I witnessed during this memorable retreat. And the young
Major's boasting did not a whit reduce my estimate of his efficiency.
For in America, swaggering does not necessarily indicate cowardice. I
knew a Captain of artillery in Smith's division, who was wordier than
Gratiano, and who exaggerated like Falstaff. But he was a lion in
action, and at Lee's Mills and Williamsburg his battery was handled with
consummate skill.

From Trent's farm the roadway led by a strip of corduroy, through
sloppy, swampy woods, to an open place, beyond a brook, where Smith's
division lay. The firing had almost entirely ceased, and we heard loud
cheers running up and down the lines, as we again ventured within cannon
range. On this spot, for the second time, the Federals had won a decided
success. And in so far as a cosmopolitan could feel elated, I was proud,
for a moment, of the valor of my division. The victors had given me
meals and a bed, and they had fed my pony when both of us were hungry.
But the sight of the prisoners and the collected dead, saddened me
somewhat.

These two engagements have received the name of the First and Second
battles of Golding's Farm. They resulted from an effort of Toombs's
Georgia brigade to carry the redoubt and breastworks of General Smith.
Toombs was a civilian, and formerly a senator from Georgia. He had no
military ability, and his troops were driven back with great slaughter,
both on Friday and Saturday. Among the prisoners taken was Colonel Lamar
of (I think) the 7th Georgia regiment. He passed me, in a litter,
wounded, as I rode toward the redoubt.

Lamar was a beautiful man, shaped like a woman, and his hair was long,
glossy, and wavy with ringlets. He was a tiger, in his love of blood,
and in character self-willed and vehement. He was of that remarkable
class of Southern men, of which the noted "Filibuster" Walker was the
great exponent. I think I may call him an apostle of slavery. He
believed it to be the destiny of our pale race to subdue all the dusky
tribes of the earth, and to evangelize, with the sword, the whole
Western continent, to the uses of master and man. Such people were
called disciples of "manifest destiny." He threw his whole heart into
the war; but when I saw him, bloodless, panting, quivering, I thought
how little the wrath of man availed against the justice of God. From
Smith's on the right, I kept along a military road, in the woods, to
Sedgwick's and Richards