Circa1865

Grant took command of Lincoln’s Army of the Potomac on March 17, 1864, now massed on Virginia’s Rapidan River and numbering 141,160 men. To oppose this invasion of Virginia, General Robert E. Lee’s strength was 50,403 muskets. His cavalry, artillery and supplies were all depleted, and his numerical strength in all arms did not exceed 64,000 as Grant began his march southward on May 4, 1864.

Grant’s Theory of Attrition

“General Grant’s theory of war was, “to hammer continuously against the armed force of his enemy, until, by mere attrition, there should be nothing left.”

Military genius, the arts of war, the skillful handling of troops, superior strategy, the devotion of an army of men, the noble self-denial of commanders, all must give way before the natural forces of “continuous hammering” by an army with unlimited reinforcements, an inexhaustible treasury, a well-filled commissariat, and all directed by a unanimous people.

The work of Lincoln’s war department was based upon the need for an army of a million men. Vast stores were accumulated. The US Congress, with reckless prodigality, continued to pass the most extravagant appropriations for organizing armies, and for maintaining the countless forces which constituted an invasion so vast, that it was hoped it would be invincible.

At the Wilderness, Grant’s onslaught overpowered two divisions and drove them back until Lee himself rode among his troops to rally them and reestablish his lines. In early June, Grant ordered an assault at Cold Harbor which was repelled with extraordinary slaughter, though he ordered a second attack in the afternoon which his men sullenly refused to obey.

Grant then pivoted toward the James River below Richmond to surprise and capture Petersburg, but was thwarted by Generals Beauregard and Wise, who had been reinforced with local militia and home guards. At this point Lee’s aggregate strength had increased to 78,400 men with which to oppose Grant, who had been reinforced and was now up to 192,160 troops.

Mr. Swinton, in his ‘History of the Army of the Potomac,’ estimates Grant’s losses at the Wilderness, Spottsylvania, North Anna and Cold Harbor battles at “above 60,000 men’ which included 3,000 officers, ‘while the loss of Lee did not exceed 18,000 men, of whom few were officers). This result would seem an unfavorable comment upon the choice of route by Grant, as McClellan two years prior attained the same point with trifling losses.

Grant had achieved no signal victory nor important success to offset his losses and had not defeated Lee on any of the campaign’s battlefields. The Army of Northern Virginia, not reinforced until it had reached Hanover Junction, and then only by 9,000 men, had repulsed every assault, and in the final trial of strength with a force vastly superior, had inflicted upon the enemy, in about an hour, a loss of 13,000 men.”

(Jefferson Davis: A Memoir by His Wife, Volume II. Varina Davis. Nautical and Aviation Publishing Company of America. 1990 (original published 1890), pp. 487-493)

The State of Tennessee established Fort Pillow in 1861 on the eastern bank of the Mississippi River to prevent the passage of northern warships. The Confederate States government later fortified it, but in early 1864 abandoned it to northern troops.

Fort Pillow’s So-Called “Massacre”

“Two ridges gave Confederate sharpshooters complete command of the fort’s interior, and General Forrest decided to send up a formal demand for surrender. The enemy commanding officer was notified that he was surrounded, and that, “if the demand was acceded to, the gallantry of the defenses already made would entitle all its garrison to be treated as prisoners of war.

An answer, after considerable delay, was brought up from the fort, written in pencil on a soiled scrap of paper, without an envelope. It read: “Your demand does not produce the desired effect.” General Forrest read it and hastily exclaimed: “This will not do, send it back and say to Major Booth that I must have an answer in plain English – yes or no.”

Shortly the messenger returned with “no.” Forrest immediately planned to make the assault. The bugle sounded the “charge,” and the Confederates, with a rush, cleared the parapet and swept with their fire every face of the work. General Forrest’s men drove the enemy toward the river, leaving their flags flying, but they turned and fired as they ran.

Now thoroughly panic-stricken, many of the enemy threw themselves into the river and were drowned; others, with arms in their hands, endeavored to make good their escape in different directions but were met by flanking parties of the Confederates and either killed or captured. Fortunately, the firing instantly ceased after General Forrest rode into the fort and cut down the garrison flag.

On the Confederate side, 14 officers and men were killed and 86 wounded. Under a flag of truce, an enemy steamer came to the landing place as Forrest allowed parties to come ashore to look after their dead and wounded, to bury the former and remove the latter to the transport. Of the enemy wounded, there were 61: 34 whites and 27 colored men, according to the reports of the Federal surgeon at the Mound City, Illinois hospital.

There were taken as prisoners of war, 7 officers and 219 enlisted men – 56 of whom were colored and 163 white men without wounds, which, with those wounded, make an aggregate of those who survived, exclusive of those who may have escaped, some 300 souls, or fully 55 percent of the entire garrison. Those who survived unhurt constituted forty percent.

This was the so-called massacre of Fort Pillow.”

(Jefferson Davis: A Memoir by His Wife, Volume II. Varina Davis. Nautical and Aviation Publishing Company of America. 1990 (originally published 1890), pp. 484-485)

After the absolute rout of the enemy at Chancellorsville, Lee rode into a clearing “where his soldiers rushed around him, waving their hats in celebration of the victory.” Some were in tears of worship, reaching out to touch him and his horse Traveller. Lee’s aide described the scene as “one long, unbroken cheer, in which the feeble cry of those who lay helpless on the earth blended with the strong voices of those who still fought, rose high above the roar of battle, and hailed the presence of the victorious chief.” The aide mused that “it must have been from such a scene that men in ancient times rose to the dignity of gods.”

Two American Generals with Such Perfect Rapport

“If Lee, outnumbered and initially outmaneuvered, had been someone else, he might have tried anything else than a venture so dangerous. After all, there was a prudent alternative and honorable under the circumstances: retreat to a more defensible position.

Instead of that, he chose to risk disaster – because he was Lee, and because the man beside him was Jackson. Whether it was because his opponent was Joe Hooker is less clear. Lee had known Hooker in Mexico, where the young officer earned his reputation before he earned his nickname. But Hooker had not been in a command position there – instead, he was the eager executor of others’ decisions. Yet Hooker’s record since as an aggressive division and corps commander should have told any sensible opponent that it was foolish to chance destruction in detail by his powerful force.

For Lee, however, Hooker’s performance in the previous two days, twice pulling back on Chancellorsville when his generals wanted to drive on, must have outweighed the rest of that war record. If Lee had not firmly concluded that Hooker would stay behind his fortified lines, he was willing to gamble on it. The clinching reason was Stonewall Jackson.

American history offers no other pair of generals with such perfect rapport., such sublime confidence in each other. Jackson had said, “Lee is the only man I know whom I would follow blindfolded.” Lee, from the beginning, had insisted that he was fighting to protect the Virginia of his fathers; Jackson could say he was fighting now to recover his own Virginia, the mountain land that was cut off as a new federal State.

But Lee upped the ante at Chancellorsville when he proposed going all the way around to hit Hooker’s army from its far flank. Jackson, as if challenged, upped it again when he told Lee he not only would go, but he would also take all three of his divisions along to do it right. Lee, fully realizing that this would leave him to hold Hooker’s overwhelming force with about one-fifth its number, met that challenge when he said calmly, “Well, go on.”

This was the climax of two great military careers, each made greater by the other.”

(Chancellorsville, 1863: The Souls of the Brave. Ernest B. Furgurson. Random House, 1992, p. 146)

General Lee visited Wilmington briefly in early 1870 after visiting father’s gravesite in coastal Georgia. This son of Gen. “Lighthorse Harry” Lee also fought bravely for political independence and led brave American soldiers who venerated him.

In a postwar address to the Association of the Army of Northern Virginia, Col. Charles Marshall alluded to Gen. Lee’s “wonderful influence over troops under his command, saying that that such was the love and veneration of the men for him that they came to look upon the cause, [the struggle for political independence] as General Lee’s cause, and they fought for it because they loved him. To them he represented cause, country and all.”

America’s Greatest Military Leader

“April 30, 1870.

At Wilmington, they spent a day with Mr. & Mrs. George Davis. His coming there was known only to a few persons, as its announcement was by private telegram from Savannah, but quite a number of ladies and gentlemen secured a small train and went out on the Southern Road to meet Lee. When they met the regular passenger train from Savannah which Lee was aboard, he was taken from it to the private one and welcomed by his many friends. He seemed bright and cheerful and conversed with all. Lee spoke of his health not being good, and on this account begged that there would be no public demonstration on his arrival, nor during his stay at Wilmington.

On reaching that place, he accompanied Mr. George Davis to his home and was his guest during Lee’s sojourn in the city. Mrs. Davis was the daughter of Dr. O. Fairfax of Alexandria, Virginia. They had been and were very old and dear friends and neighbors.

There was a dinner given to my father that day at Mr. Davis’s home, and a number of gentlemen were present.  He was looking very well, but in conversation said that he realized there was some trouble with his heart, which he was satisfied was incurable.

The next day, May 1^st, Lee left by train for Norfolk, Virginia.”

(Recollections and Letters of General Robert E. Lee. Robert E. Lee, II. Garden City Publishing, 1904. pp. 400-401)

Lt. John M. Kell served as executive officer aboard the raider CSS Alabama which was sunk in battle off the coast of France in June 1864. He survived and four months later was aboard a British mail packet from Liverpool to Halifax, Nova Scotia, thence to Bermuda on another. Determined to return to the Confederate States, Kell boarded a steamer there to run the enemy blockade at Wilmington, North Carolina.

While at Wilmington, Kell contacted the family of Alabama midshipman Edward Maffitt Anderson, who believed he had perished in battle. Anderson was born at Savannah – his father was Col. Edward C. Anderson, wartime commandant of Fort Jackson on the Savannah River. In the prewar US Navy, Anderson and John Newland Maffitt were friends – each giving their sons the last names of each other as their middle name.

Running Wilmington’s Blockade

“We found the little side-wheeler steamer Flamingo ready to sail and took passage on her. The sea was smooth and beautifully adapted to our little vessel which only drew three or four feet of water and skimmed the surface of the ocean like a bird.

We began the voyage very well but our first experience nearing the Cape Fear shore was disappointing with the difficulty of ascertaining our bearings and whereabouts. At morning light, we discovered two enemy blockaders ahead and three on our quarters, then put on all the steam we could carry and proceed eastward. The blockader ahead made every exertion to cut us off and fired upon us, but the shot fell short, and we continued on our course – fairly flying – and soon our pursuers were out of sight and we greatly relieved to have made so narrow an escape.

About eight o’clock we got out instruments to establish our position accurately on the chart, took our bearings on Fort Fisher. As the evening drew on, we made all steam and passed in under the very guns of the enemy blockaders, like a flash of lightning and were soon safely under the guns of the fort. A basket of champagne was at once ordered up and a toast to our successful run was heartily quaffed.

We discovered the cause of our first missing our bearings offshore was due entirely to the drunkenness of the steamer’s officers. The risks they ran seemed to inspire the desire to get up a little “Dutch courage” as the occasion required and came very near precipitating us – after all our hair-breadth escapes – into the hands of the enemy!”

In Wilmington I met a friend of the Anderson family, who informed me of the report that had reached them that their brave young son had perished in the CSS Alabama’s fight off Cherbourg, being “literally torn to pieces by the explosion of an 11-inch shell.” I had the great satisfaction of telling them of his safety, he being one of the last to bid me good-bye in Liverpool.”

(Recollections of a Naval Life, including the Cruises of the CSA Steamers, Sumpter and Alabama. John McIntosh Kell. Neale Company, Publishers. Washington. 1911, pp. 262-263)

The first of Richmond’s 1861-1865 patriot memorials was that to Stonewall Jackson, dedicated in 1875. The impressive statue was “presented by English gentlemen” who greatly admired “the soldier and patriot” whose deeds it commemorated. Fifteen years would elapse before the impoverished American South could manage to provide a similar memorial to Robert E. Lee.  Of note, though colored militia units did not participate in the Lee Monument parade, they had marched in the funeral procession two days earlier in honor of Gen. George Pickett.

The sculptor of the Lee monument was Jean Antoine Mercie’ was a graduate of the Paris Ecole de Beaux Arts and acclaimed throughout Europe. He also sculpted the Marquis de Lafayette Monument at Baltimore in 1891, and the Francis Scott Key monument at Baltimore in 1911. The Lincoln government arrested the latter’s grandson, a newspaper editor, in May 1861.

Robert E. Lee Monument at Richmond

“[The] Unveiling of the Lee equestrian statue at Richmond in 1890, on what later became Monument Avenue, was an event to which the South had been looking forward almost since the close of hostilities. Raising the money to pay for it was one problem, and calming the rivalry between two organizations that wanted to take the lead in raising it was another. There were also disagreements concerning the design.

The first competition awarded the contract to a “Yankee” sculptor from Ohio. This aroused the Confederate ire of the always bellicose General [Jubal] Early, who wrote [Virginia] Governor Fitzhugh Lee that “if the statue of General Lee is erected after that model,” he (Early) would “get together all the surviving members of the Second Corps and blow it up with dynamite.”

So, another competition was held, and the model submitted by Jean Antoine Mercie’ of France was chosen. This statue, showing Lee seated on Traveller, was received with universal satisfaction. When it arrived from Europe, hundreds of veterans and others turned out and pulled it with ropes to the site at what is today the intersection of Allen and Monument Avenues.

The unveiling went off without a hitch. There were fifteen thousand Confederate veterans in the parade, fifty generals in grey among them, along with ten thousand other citizens. The procession took two hours to pass by.”

(The Last Review: The Confederate Reunion, Richmond 1932. Virginius Dabney. Algonquin Books, 1984, pg. 7)

After Gettysburg: The Mule and the Grizzly Bear

“That night Gen. Lee decided that he must return to Virginia & began at once to dispatch his trains and wounded. But to give the latter a good start he determined to keep the army in place 24 hours longer. So, the next day I was started at a very early hour, with some engineer officers and staff to select a line of battle for our Corps upon which to fight if the enemy should attack.

This was now Sunday, July 5^th. The march was slow and tedious, our wagons were light of ammunition, and we had lost enormously of horses. We were authorized by Gen. Lee to impress horses from citizens & told to offer Confederate States money, or leave a descriptive list of animals, signed by an officer, on which the bereaved citizen could found a claim for damages upon his government.

During the day I had an accession to my staff, a Captain Stephen Winthrop who held a commission in Her Majesty’s 23^rd Regiment who had come to America to see some fighting. That very afternoon he got a chance to show the stuff he was made of. Anxious for a fight he joined a nearby cavalry regiment about to charge the enemy and led the attack with the colors flying though his horse was killed. After the repulse of that effort, he obtained another horse and went in on a second charge with only his saber – and got into the melee, in which he ran one of the enemy through, coming out with his saber bent and bloody all over.

I recall another incident of the march from Gettysburg. Our men had impressed the horse of and old Dunkard farmer from somewhere in this vicinity. He said he was a poor man & needed a horse for his crops, and that my men told him I had some footsore horses – from lack of horseshoes on the rocky roads. Being told I may abandon them and asked if I would give him one which I did.

Up to now the enemy had pursued us as a mule goes on the chase of a grizzly bear – as if catching up with us was the last thing he wanted to do. But at last, on Friday morning the 10^th of July, the whole of Meade’s army drew near. After making our defensive line how we all did wish that that the enemy would come out in the open & attack us, but they had had their lesson at Gettysburg. But they also had their lesson, in that sort of game, at Fredericksburg and did not care for another. Gen. Meade showed no disposition to attack us.

When it is remembered that Vicksburg had surrendered to the enemy on July 4^th, it does seem that the cumulative moral effect of another immense victory as the destruction of Lee’s army, would surely have ended the war & made Meade its greatest hero and a future president. But the man who could either not see it – or feared to play the game with the opportunities he had – did not deserve it.”

(Fighting for the Confederacy: The Personal Recollections of General Edward Porter Alexander. Gary Gallagher, ed.  UNC Press, 1989, pp. 268-272)

Established in mid-March 1802 during Thomas Jefferson’s presidency, West Point graduation became necessary for an officer commission through 1835, though a rising “Jacksonian Democracy” created a strong desire to end an academy which bred an aristocratic tradition. After Texas statehood, Sam Houston believed a regiment of Texas Rangers better to protect the frontier than US regular troops and officers who he saw as “unaccustomed to frontier life and therefore utterly incompetent” as an Indian fighting command. The Rangers “were men who could ride as well as the Comanches and Kiowas and who understood their dispositions, inclinations – as well as their points of foray and attack.”

In early August 1858, Houston made his harshest Senate speech against the professional military establishment. He attacked West Point as aristocratic and undermining the liberties of American citizens. And it was the untutored frontier military leader Ben McCulloch who peacefully settled the Mormon standoff in Utah circa 1857-58.

West Point’s Aristocratic Traditions

“Early in the nineteenth century, the image of the citizen soldier was strengthened by the hostility that flared against the institution that seemed to embody all the negative elements of a professional military force: the United States Military Academy at West Point. In an era of mass democracy and egalitarian aspirations, West Point became a symbol of aristocratic privilege. It was regarded as a potential threat to popular rule . . . [and] Jacksonian Democrats believed, the caste system created by the professional officer corps would inevitably degrade the enlisted men.

Critic David Crockett spoke for the majority on the frontier when he declared that “this academy did not suit the people of our country, and they were against it.” The officers it trained and commissioned, he maintained, “are too nice to work; they are first educated there for nothing, and they must have salaries to support them after they leave there – this does not suit the notions of the working people, of men who had to get their bread by labor.”

Sam Houston, addressing the United States Senate in 1858, declared that “a political influence” was “growing upon the country in connection with the army,” and “its inception is at the Military Academy.” Its “inmates,” he charged, were “the bantlings of the public” and were nursed, fostered and cherished by the government.” Upon their graduation, the army must be annually enlarged as places must be found for the newly commissioned officers. “The danger,” Houston warned, “is that as they multiply and increase, such will be the political influence disseminated through society that it will become a general infection, ruinous to the liberties of the country.”

As Crockett’s and Houston’s outspoken opposition would suggest, nowhere was the military academy more reviled than on the western Tennessee frontier where the area was yet raw and largely unsettled, and already producing a remarkable number of solider-statesmen whose names would dominate American political and military history until the Civil War. Foremost among them was Andrew Jackson, whose fame and untutored military genius and popularizer of a frontier brand of democracy propelled him into the White House in 1829. Second to Jackson was his political protégé Sam Houston, another product of the frontier as well as an untutored but highly successful military leader. Other Tennesseans of the Jacksonian mold were San Jacinto veteran and Southern cavalry general Tom Green, Texas Ranger John Coffee Hays, and two extraordinary brothers – Ben and Henry McCulloch.”

(Ben McCulloch and the Frontier Military Tradition. Thomas W. Cutrer. UNC Press, 1991, pp. 4-5; 147-149)

Fighting for the “Juster Cause”

The following details the first encounter of the revolutionary CSS Virginia with the USS Monitor after the former had sunk the USS Cumberland and severely damaged the USS Congress the previous day. The Virginia was commanded by Commodore Franklin Buchanan, with Lt. Catesby Jones assuming command after Buchanan was injured. Also aboard was the indefatigable Lt. John Taylor Wood.

“When Jones saw that the Virginia’s guns only dented the Monitor’s turret, he ordered his gun commanders to concentrate their fire on her pilothouse. The vessels wore around until the Virginia’s stern was only ten yards from the Monitor’s pilothouse. Wood quickly barked out the necessary orders to his stern gun crew. A lightning flash erupted from the muzzle of the powerful Brooke rifle and a heavy shell seared the air to strike against the front of the Monitor’s pilothouse, directly in the observation slit. The explosion cracked the iron and partially lifted the top. The blow partly stunned the commander and filled his eyes with powder, temporarily blinding him while ordering his ship to disengage the Virginia. The Monitor retired briefly but resumed firing again.

Wood now had an idea that foreshadowed his special place in the war. As a last hope to defeat the Monitor, he called for volunteers to form a boarding party which he intended to lead to the enemy deck. The response was enthusiastic, and Wood organized the group into special forces, each with a specific task. Some collected sledgehammers and spikes to wedge the Monitor’s turret. Others were ready to fling oakum-ball grenades down the pipes and cover all openings with canvas to cut off visibility and air. A few men carried pistols, boarding pikes and cutlasses in the event of hand-to-hand combat. The Confederates intended to win this battle with brains, seamanship, heroism and the “juster cause.”

When all was ready, the Virginia made a run for the Monitor. The boarding party watched from all ports, each man “burning for the signal to swarm around the foe.” The blood was “fairly tumbling through our veins” recalled one crewmember as the hoarse bark of the boatswain called “boarders away.” At that moment, however, the Monitor frustrated the scheme by standing away and steaming to shallow water.

Wood was disappointed, and with good reason, since the would-be-boarders might well have succeeded [in capturing the Monitor].”

(John Taylor Wood: Sea Ghost of the Confederacy. Royce Gordon Shingleton. UGA Press, 1979, pp. 35-36)

The commander of North Carolina’s Fort Fisher, Colonel William Lamb of Virginia, spoke postwar of his men defending the fortress in early 1865: “When I recall this magnificent struggle, unsurpassed in ancient or modern warfare, and remember the devoted patriotism and heroic courage of my garrison, I feel proud to know that I have North Carolina blood coursing through my veins, and I confidently believe that the time will come with the Old North State, when her people will regard her defence of Forth Fisher as the grandest event in her heroic past.” Gen. William Whiting commanded the Cape Fear District and came to the fort after Gen. Bragg’s reluctance to confront the enemy.

Americans Besieged

“In the midst of the whirling shells, he scarcely removed his pipe from his mouth as he stood on the open rampart spattered from the bursting shells. Lieutenant Hunter, of the 36^th North Carolina, wrote of Gen. Whiting:

“I saw him standing with folded arms, smiling upon the 400-hundred-pound shell as it stood smoking and spinning like a billiard ball on the sand, not twenty feet away, until it burst, and then moved away quietly. I saw him fifty times a day – I saw him fight and saw him pray; and he was all that a General should be in battle. He was the best-equipped man in the Confederate States to defend the port of Wilmington, and his relief by Gen. Braxton Bragg brought gloom over the entire command.”

Time fails me to relate the details of the great battle of the 13^th, 14^th and 15^th of January 1865. The enemy fleet arrived the night of the 12^th, and early the next day began the rain of projectiles, increasing in fury at times to 160 per minute, and directed by converging fire to the destruction of the guns on the land force of Fort Fisher, and in the pounding of the northeast salient to a shapeless ruin.

Again, General Whiting came to the fort, on the first day’s bombardment, and upon his entrance said to Col. William Lamb: “I have come here to share your fate, my boy. You are to be sacrificed. The last thing I heard Gen. Bragg say was to point out a line to fall back upon, when Fisher fell.”

The firing never ceased – all day and all night long the 11-inch and 15-inch fiery globes rolled along the parapet; the palisades were cut to pieces, the wires to the mines were ploughed up in the deep sands. An English officer who had been at Sebastopol declared it was but child’s play to this terrific shaking of the earth and sea, by a fleet whose broadside could throw 44,000 pounds of iron at a single discharge.

The defenders fought on – their quarters having been burned along with their blankets and clothing – in the depth of winter, for three days, with cornmeal and coffee and uncooked rations – for not even a burial party could put its head out of a bombproof without casualties. On the evening of the 13th, some 8,500 troops landed four miles north, and in the language of their commander, as if at some exciting sport, with no one to molest them. Telegram after telegram besought Gen. Bragg to attack; but his troops had been ordered sixteen miles away for an idle review, and when in position again, he refused to attack the two brigades of colored troops which held the land side, though urged repeatedly by telegraph. The fire suddenly increased to inconceivable fury about 3PM pf the 15^th, and the air was hot with bursting shells. All at once there was ominous silence, and the column of the enemy, 1,600 picked sailors and 400 marines, were seen approaching the northeast redan.

Whiting and Lamb rallied their gallant band upon the exposed ramparts – the struggle was terrible, but with twenty-one officers killed and wounded, that enemy column was broken to pieces, and a sight never seen in the world before, of two thousand US Naval troops in full flight, leaving four hundred on the sands and their commander, Breese, simulating death among them to escape capture.

But alas, two battles were going on at the same time! Just as the naval attack was beaten back, Gen. Whiting saw the enemy flags planted on the traverses. Calling on the troops to follow him, they fought hand-to-hand with clubbed muskets, and one traverse was retaken. Just as he was climbing the other to remove the enemy flag, General Whiting fell, receiving two wounds – one very severe through the thigh. Colonel Lamb fell with a desperate hip wound a half hour after Whiting, while the enemy poured into the fortress.

It was the struggle of North Carolina patriots. Lamb, in the fort’s hospital, found voice enough, though faint unto death, to say, “I will not surrender!” And Whiting, lying among the surgeons nearby, responded, “Lamb, if you die, I will assume command and I will never surrender.”

(A Memoir of the Late Major-General William Henry Chase Whiting. C.B. Denson. Edwards & Broughton, 1895, pp. 40-42)