Isaiah Spiller enlisted as a private, but afterward served as blacksmith in the 5th Maine Battery. The first winter he was in camp at Augusta with no shelter but a tent. They went to the front in April, and Mr. Spiller was in the seven days’ march under McDowell. Though never actually engaged in battle, he was near during the engagements of Antietam, Gettysburg, Fredericksburg, Winchester, The Wilderness, and Bull Run. He was frequently out with foraging parties when cattle, orhards, and all kinds of property were wantonly destroyed. A man would be given five minutes’ warning, and his beautiful house burned down, leaving him with his family without shelter. One time they came to a nice looking residence, apparently deserted except by a young girl, who sat on the door-step, holding a pretty grey horse by a long line while he fed round the door-yard. On pretense of attending to the horses, Mr. Spiller went round the corner of the house and laid low while the captain talked to the girl. Presently the grey pony fed along just out of sight, and quick as thought the saddle and bridle were shifted from one of the other horses, Mr. Spiller sprang on his back, cut the rope and was off before the Southern girl knew of her loss. "O! That was real mean!" we cried indignantly. "Well, yes;" he admitted, "it was rather a mean trick; but they would have done the same to us." Yes, so they would; burnt our houses, destroyed our crops, laid waste our orchards, killed our flocks and herds, abused our women and children, but that the fortunes of war made Virginia the battle-ground instead of New Hampshire.

Dedicated by James Pratt.

11/12/1998