matters of serious import, had a Napoleonic cast.  In ’61 he enlisted as a private but rose swiftly through the grades to the command of a regiment.  At Antietam he had part of a brigade and coralled in a meteoric way on Longstreet’s front line some hundreds of prisoners.  His losses were great but he was in the thick of it himself, his poise unruffled until he was borne desperately wounded from the field.  The surgeon who attended him told me, if I remember right, that a ball passed entirely through his body carrying with it portions of his clothing, if such a thing were possible; but, with his usual nonchalance he laughed at wounds and while still weak and emaciated went back to his place again in the following spring at the head of a brigade.  He underwent Chancellorsville, and for the Union cause it was a great misfortune that his fine brigade was taken from its place on Hooker’s right before Stonewall Jackson made his charge.  Had Barlow been there he might have done something to stay the disaster.  At Gettysburg, however, he was in the front in command of a division.  An old soldier, a lieutenant that day under Barlow, told me that he had charge of the ambulances of the division and on the march near Emmitsburg Barlow put into the lieutenant’s especial charge the ambulance of his wife who, with a premonition of calamity, insisted on being near at hand to help.  When the battle joined and Gordon swept overwhelmingly upon Barlow’s division, the lieutenant had difficulty in restraining Mrs. Barlow from rushing at once upon the field among the fighting men.  He held her back almost by force but she remained close at hand.  Barlow was again desperately wounded, so hurt that his death seemed inevitable, and when the faithful wife, at last making her way, presented herself even in the rebel lines with a petition for her husband, supposed to be dying, Gordon chivalrously gave him up.  It was magnanimous, but for him ill-timed.  Again Barlow laughed at his wounds.  In May, 1864, he was in the field at the head of the first division of Hancock’s corps and on the 12th of May performed the memorable exploit, breaking fairly the centre of Lee’s army and bringing it nearer to defeat than it ever came until the catastrophe at Appomattox.  He captured the Spottsylvania salient together with the best division of the army of northern Virginia, Stonewall Jackson’s old command, two generals, thirty colours, cannon, and small arms to correspond.  John Noyes, a soldier of a class after us, told me that in the salient he and Barlow worked like privates in the confusion of the capture, turning with their own hands against the enemy a cannon that had just been taken.  Barlow was as cool as when he fired off the old cannon in Cambridge ten years before.  This stroke proved futile, but from no shortcoming of Barlow’s.  A few weeks later at Cold Harbor he effected a lodgment within the Confederate works when all others failed.  That too proved futile, but his reputation was confirmed as one of the most