im to foresee the strategic value of a position and
to know the general course of a campaign in a particular district of
country. With this power of practical foresight, he was often better
able even than some of the generals to foresee and appraise results.
This topographical knowledge also gave him that power of wonderful
clearness in description which is the first and best quality necessary
to the narrator of a series of complex movements. A battle fought in
the open, like that at Gettysburg, or one of those which took place
during the previous campaigns, on a plain, along the river, and in the
Peninsula, is comparatively easy to describe, especially when viewed
from an eminence. These battles were like those in ordinary European
history; but after Grant took command of the Army of the Potomac, a
reversion to something like the American colonial methods in the
forest took place. The heaviest fighting was in the woods, behind
entrenchments, or in regions where but little of the general scheme,
and few of the operations, could be seen at once. In either case,
however, as will be seen by reading over the thousand or so letters in
Carleton's correspondence, his power of making a modern battle easily
understood is, if not unique, at least very remarkable. With his
letters often went diagrams which greatly aided his readers.

Carleton's personal courage was always equal to that of the bravest.
Too sincerely appreciative of the gift of life from his Creator, he
never needlessly, especially after his first eagerness for experience
had been satiated, exposed himself, as the Dutch used to say, with
"full-hardiness," or as we, corrupting the word, say, with
"foolhardiness." He got out of the line of shells and bullets where
there was no call for his presence, and when the only justification
for remaining would be to gratify idle curiosity. Yet, when duty
called, when there was need to know both the facts, and the truth to
be deduced from the facts, whistling bullets or screeching shells
never sufficed to drive him away. His coolness with pen and pencil,
amid the dropping fire of the enemy, made heroes of many a soldier
whose nerves were not as strong as was the instinct of his legs to
run. The lady librarian of Dover, N. H., thus writes:

"An old soldier whom I was once showing through the library stopped
short in front of Coffin's books and looked at them with much
interest. He said that at his first battle,--I think it was