uth, through the battle in the Wilderness and, I think, to
Spottsylvania. He was accompanied by a Mr. Swinton, whom he presented as
a literary gentleman who wished to accompany the army with a view of
writing a history of the war when it was over. He assured me--and I
have no doubt Swinton gave him the assurance--that he was not present as
a correspondent of the press. I expressed an entire willingness to have
him (Swinton) accompany the army, and would have allowed him to do so as
a correspondent, restricted, however, in the character of the
information he could give. We received Richmond papers with about as
much regularity as if there had been no war, and knew that our papers
were received with equal regularity by the Confederates. It was
desirable, therefore, that correspondents should not be privileged spies
of the enemy within our lines.

Probably Mr. Swinton expected to be an invited guest at my headquarters,
and was disappointed that he was not asked to become so. At all events
he was not invited, and soon I found that he was corresponding with some
paper (I have now forgotten which one), thus violating his word either
expressed or implied. He knew of the assurance Washburne had given as
to the character of his mission. I never saw the man from the day of
our introduction to the present that I recollect. He accompanied us,
however, for a time at least.

The second night after crossing the Rapidan (the night of the 5th of
May) Colonel W. R. Rowley, of my staff, was acting as night officer at
my headquarters. A short time before midnight I gave him verbal
instructions for the night. Three days later I read in a Richmond paper
a verbatim report of these instructions.

A few nights still later (after the first, and possibly after the
second, day's fighting in the Wilderness) General Meade came to my tent
for consultation, bringing with him some of his staff officers. Both
his staff and mine retired to the camp-fire some yards in front of the
tent, thinking our conversation should be private. There was a stump a
little to one side, and between the front of the tent and camp-fire.
One of my staff, Colonel T. S. Bowers, saw what he took to be a man
seated on the ground and leaning against the stump, listening to the
conversation between Meade and myself. He called the attention of
Colonel Rowley to it. The latter immediately took the man by the
shoulder and asked him, in language more forcible than poli