Men made the great war. Thoughtful, prayerful men, of mighty intellect and soul-deep conviction, they strove together and drew a scratch upon the ground from east to west, a line to divide South from North. Together they kindled a ﬁre, and into a vast and devastating ﬂame they together fanned it.
Some, that by it the line might be fused into an imperishable barrier; some, that the line might forever be consumed. The war was made by men.
But the children, too, were drawn by the draught of this terrible ﬁre. More than six hundred thousand of the Federal enlistments were by lads not yet twenty-one. There were thousands of children in the ranks of the North from thirteen to ﬁfteen years of age.
But of all this blood-stained army there is none of whom there is record who served as did Charles H. Phillips, aged fourteen, who for four years was a Federal spy in the city of Richmond.
Some time early in the winter of '61 John Y. Phillips was sent to Richmond by his employers, R. M. Hoe & Co., of New York City, to set up and put in operation one of their newspaper-presses for the Richmond Dispatch. Four and a half years later he returned, and there gathered about him old friends and former neighbors.
“What did you do, John, in Richmond all through the war?” said they. And John Phillips would draw himself up and, with dignity and