CAMPAIGNS

OF

A NON-COMBATANT, AND HIS

ROMAUNT ABROAD DURING THE WAR. 

BYGEO. ALFRED TOWNSEND. 

NEW YORK:BLELOCK & COMPANY, 19 BEEKMAN STREET, 1866. 

Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1866, by

GEORGE ALFRED TOWNSEND, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for theSouthern District of New York. 

SCRYMGEOUR, WHITCOMB & CO. , Stereotypers, 15 WATER STREET, BOSTON. 

+-----------------------------------------------------------------------+|Transcriber's note: Inconsistency in hyphenation in this etext is as in||the original book. |+-----------------------------------------------------------------------+

TO

"Miles O'Reilly, "

Who saw the war as vividly as he sang it; and whose aims for the peacethat has ensued, are even nobler than the noble influence he exertedduring the struggle, these chapters of travel are inscribed by hisfriend and colleague. 

PREFACE. 

In the early part of 1863, while I was resident in London, --the first ofthe War Correspondents to go abroad, --I wrote, at the request of Mr. George Smith, publisher of the Cornhill Magazine, a series of chaptersupon the Rebellion, thus introduced:--

 "Few wars have been so well chronicled, as that now desolating America. Its official narratives have been copious; the great newspapers of the land have been represented in all its campaigns; private enterprise has classified and illustrated its several events, and delegates of foreign countries have been allowed to mingle freely with its soldiery, and to observe and describe its battles. The pen and the camera have accompanied its bayonets, and there has not probably been any skirmish, however insignificant, but a score of zealous scribes have remarked and recorded it. 

 "I have employed some leisure hours afforded me in Europe, to detail those parts of the struggle which I witnessed in a civil capacity. The Sketches which follow are entirely personal, and dwell less upon routine incidents, plans, and statistics, than upon those lighter phases of war which fall beneath the dignity of severe history and are seldom related. I have endeavored to reproduce not only the adventures, but the impressions of a novitiate, and I have described not merely the army and its operations, but the country invaded, and the people who inhabit it. 

 "The most that I have hoped to do, is so to simplify a campaign that the reader may realize it as if he had beheld it, travelling at will, as I did, and with no greater interest than to see how fields were fought and won. "

To those chapters, I have added in this collection, some estimates ofAmerican life in Europe, and some European estimates of American life;with my ultimate experiences in the War after my return to my owncountry. I cannot hope that they will be received with the same favor, either here or abroad, as that which greeted their original publication. But no man ought to let the first four years of his majority slip awayunrecorded. I would rather publish a tolerable book now than a possiblygood one hereafter. 

CAMPAIGNS OF A NON-COMBATANT, AND HIS

Romaunt abroad during the War. 

CHAPTER 1. 

MY IMPRESSMENT. 

"Here is a piece of James Franklin's printing press, Mr. Townsend, " saidMr. Pratt to me, at Newport the other day, --"Ben. Franklin wrote for thepaper, and set type upon it. The press was imported from England in1730, or thereabouts. "

He produced a piece of wood, a foot in length, and then laid it away inits drawer very sacredly. 

"I should like to write to that press, Mr. Pratt, " I said, --"there wouldbe no necessity in such a case of getting off six columns for to-night'smail. "

"Well!" said Mr. Pratt, philosophically, "I have a theory that a mangrows up to machinery. As your day so shall your strength be. I believeyou have telegraphed up to a House instrument, haven't you?"

"Mr. Pratt, " cried I, with some indignation, "your memory is too good. This is Newport, and I have come down to see the surf. Pray, do notremind me of hot hours in a newspaper office, the click of a Morsedispatch, and work far into the midnight!"

So I left Mr. Pratt, of the Newport _Mercury_, with an ostentation ofaffront, and bade James Brady, the boatman, hoist sail and carry me overto Dumpling Rocks. 

On the grassy parapet of the crumbling tower which once served thepurposes of a fort, the transparent water hungering at its base, therocks covered with fringe spotting the channel, the ocean on my righthand lost in its own vastness, and Newport out of mind save when thetown bells rang, or the dip of oars beat in the still swell ofNarragansett, --I lay down, chafing and out of temper, to curse theonly pleasurable labor I had ever undertaken. 

To me all places were workshops: the seaside, the springs, the summermountains, the cataracts, the theatres, the panoramas of islet-fondledrivers speeding by strange cities. I was condemned to look upon them allwith mercenary eyes, to turn their gladness into torpid prose, and speaktheir praises in turgid columns. Never nepenthe, never _abandonne_, always wide-awake, and watching for saliences, I had gone abroad like afalcon, and roamed at home like a hungry jackal. Six fingers on my hand, one long and pointed, and ever dropping gall; the ineradicable stainupon my thumb; the widest of my circuits, with all my adventure, apaltry sheet of foolscap; and the world in which I dwelt, no place forthought, or dreaminess, or love-making, --only the fierce, fast, flippantexistence of news!

And with this inward execration, I lay on Dumpling Rocks, looking tosea, and recalled the first fond hours of my newspaper life. 

To be a subject of old Hoe, the most voracious of men, I gave up thechoice of three sage professions, and the sweet alternative of idlinghusbandry. 

The day I graduated saw me an _attaché_ of the Philadelphia _Chameleon_. I was to receive three dollars a week and be the heir to lordlyprospects. In the long course of persevering years I might sit in thecushions of the night-editor, or speak of the striplings around me as"_my_ reporters. "

"There is nothing which you cannot attain, " said Mr. Axiom, myemployer, --"think of the influence you exercise!--more than a clergyman;Horace Greeley was an editor; so was George D. Prentice; the first hasjust been defeated for Congress; the last lectured last night and gotfifty dollars for it. "

Hereat I was greatly encouraged, and proposed to write a leader for nextday's paper upon the evils of the Fire Department. 

"Dear me, " said Mr. Axiom, "you would ruin our circulation at a wink;what would become of our ball column? in case of a fire in the buildingwe couldn't get a hose to play on it. Oh! no, Alfred, writing leaders ishard and dangerous; I want you first to learn the use of a beautifulpair of scissors. "

I looked blank and chopfallen. 

"No man can write a good hand or a good style, " he said, "withoutexperience with scissors. They give your palm flexibility and that issoon imparted to the mind. But perfection is attained by an alternateuse of the scissors and the pen; if a little paste be prescribed at thesame time, cohesion and steadfastness is imparted to the man. "

His reasoning was incontrovertible; but I damned his conclusions. 

So, I spent one month in slashing several hundred exchanges a day, andparagraphing all the items. These reappeared in a column called "THELATEST INFORMATION, " and when I found them copied into another journal, a flush of satisfaction rose to my face. 

The editor of the _Chameleon_ was an old journalist, whose face was asealed book of Confucius, and who talked to me, patronizingly, now andthen, like the Delphic Oracle. His name was Watch, and he wore aprodigious pearl in his shirt-bosom. He crept up to the editorial roomat nine o'clock every night, and dashed off an hour's worth ofglittering generalities, at the end of which time two or threegentlemen, blooming at the nose, and with cheeks resembling a map drawnin red ink, sounded the pipe below stairs, and Mr. Watch said--

"Mr. Townsend, I look to you to be on hand to-night; I am called away bythe Water-Gas Company. "

Then, with enthusiasm up to blood-heat, aroused by this mark ofconfidence, I used to set to, and scissor and write till three o'clock, while Mr. Watch talked water-gas over brandy and water, and drew histhirty dollars punctually on Saturdays. 

So it happened that my news paragraphs, sometimes pointedly turned intoa reflection, crept into the editorial columns, when water-gas waslively. Venturing more and more, the clipper finally indited a leader;and Mr. Watch, whose nose water-gas was reddening, applauded me, andtold me in his sublime way, that, as a special favor, I might write allthe leaders the next night. Mr. Watch was seen no more in the sanctumfor a week, and my three dollars carried on the concern. 

When he returned, he generously gave me a dollar, and said that he hadspoken of me to the Water-Gas Company as a capital secretary. Then hewrote me a pass for the Arch Street Theatre, and told me, benevolently, to go off and rest that night. 

For a month or more the responsibility of the _Chameleon_ devolvedalmost entirely upon me. Child that I was, knowing no world but my ownvanity, and pleased with those who fed its sensitive love of approbationrather than with the just and reticent, I harbored no distrust till oneday when Axiom visited the office, and I was drawing my three dollarsfrom the treasurer, I heard Mr. Watch exclaim, within the publisher'sroom--

"Did you read my article on the Homestead Bill?"

"Yes, " answered Axiom; "it was quite clever; your leaders are more aliveand epigrammatic than they were. "

I could stand it no more. I bolted into the office, and cried--

"The article on the Homestead Bill is mine, so is every other article into-day's paper. Mr. Watch does not tell the truth; he is ungenerous!"

"What's this, Watch?" said Axiom. 

"Alfred, " exclaimed Mr. Watch, majestically, "adopts my suggestions veryreadily, and is quite industrious. I recommend that we raise his salaryto five dollars a week. That is a large sum for a lad. "

That night the manuscript was overhauled in the composing room. Watch'sdereliction was manifest; but not a word was said commendatory of mylabor; it was feared I might take "airs, " or covet a further increase ofwages. I only missed Watch's hugh pearl, and heard that he had beendischarged, and was myself taken from the drudgery of the scissors, andmade a reporter. 

All this was very recent, yet to me so far remote, that as I recall itall, I wonder if I am not old, and feel nervously of my hairs. For inthe five intervening years I have ridden at Hoe speed down the groove ofmy steel-pen. 

The pen is my traction engine; it has gone through worlds of fancy andreflection, dragging me behind it; and long experience has given it sogreat facility, that I have only to fire up, whistle, and fix mycouplings, and away goes my locomotive with no end of cars in train. 

Few journalists, beginning at the bottom, do not weary of the ladder erethey climb high. Few of such, or of others more enthusiastic, recall theearly associations of "the office" with pleasure. Yet there is no worldmore grotesque, none, at least in America, more capable of fictitiousillustration. Around a newspaper all the dramatis personæ of the worldcongregate; within it there are staid idiosyncratic folk who admit ofall kindly caricature. 

I summon from that humming and hurly-burly past, the ancientproof-reader. He wears a green shade over his eyes and the gas burner isdrawn very low to darken the bald and wrinkled contour of his forehead. He is severe in judgment and spells rigidly by the Johnsonian standard. He punctuates by an obdurate and conscientious method, and will have noitalics upon any pretext. He will lend you money, will eat with you, drink with you, and encourage you; but he will not punctuate with you, spell with you, nor accept any of your suggestions as to typography orparagraphing whatsoever. He wears slippers and smokes a primitive claypipe; he has everything in its place, and you cannot offend him morethan by looking over any proof except when he is holding it. A chip ofhimself is the copyholder at his side, --a meagre, freckled, matter offact youth, who reads your tenderest sentences in a rapid monotone, andis never known to venture any opinion or suggestion whatever. This boy, I am bound to say, will follow the copy if it be all consonants, andwill accompany it if it flies out of the window. 

The office clerk was my bane and admiration. He was presumed by theverdant patrons of the paper to be its owner and principal editor, itstype-setter, pressman, and carrier. His hair was elaborately curled, andhis ears were perfect racks of long and dandyfied pens; a broad, shovel-shaped gold pen lay forever opposite his high stool; he had anarrogant and patronizing address, and was the perpetual cabbager ofeditorial perquisites. Books, ball-tickets, season-tickets, pictures, disappeared in his indiscriminate fist, and he promised notices which hecould not write to no end of applicants. He was to be seen at thetheatre every night, and he was the dashing escort of the proprietor'swife, who preferred his jaunty coat and highly-polished boots to theless elaborate wardrobe of us writers. That this noble and fashionablecreature could descend to writing wrappers, and to waiting his turn witha bank-book in the long train of a sordid teller, passed all speculationand astonishment. He made a sorry fag of the office boy, and advised usevery day to beware of cutting the files, as if that were the one viceof authors. To him we stole, with humiliated faces, and begged atrifling advance of salary. He sternly requested us not to encroachbehind the counter--his own indisputable domain--but sometimes asked usto watch the office while he drank with a theatrical agent at thenearest bar. He was an inveterate gossip, and endowed with a damnablelove of slipshod argument; the only oral censor upon our compositions, he hailed us with all the complaints made at his solicitation byirascible subscribers, and stood in awe of the cashier only, whofrequently, to our delight and surprise, combed him over, and drove himto us for sympathy. 

The foreman was still our power behind the throne; he left out our copyon mechanical grounds, and put it in for our modesty and sophistry. Inhis broad, hot room, all flaring with gas, he stood at a flat stone likea surgeon, and took forms to pieces and dissected huge columns ofpregnant metal, and paid off the hands with fabulous amounts ofuncurrent bank bills. His wife and he went thrice a year on excursionsto the sea-side, and he was forever borrowing a dollar from somebody totreat the lender and himself. 

The ship-news man could be seen towards the small-hours, writing hishighly imaginative department, which showed how the Sally Ann, MasterTodd, arrived leaky in Bombay harbor; and there were stacks of newsboysasleep on the boilers, fighting in their dreams for the possession of afragment of a many-cornered blanket. 

These, like myself, went into the halcyon land of Nod to the music of acrashing press, and swarmed about it at the dawn like so many gad fliesabout an ox, to carry into the awakening city the rhetoric and therubbish I had written. 

And still they go, and still the great press toils along, and still am Iits slave and keeper, who sit here by the proud, free sea, and feel likeSinbad, that to a terrible old man I have sold my youth, my convictions, my love, my life!

CHAPTER II. 

THE WAR CORRESPONDENT'S FIRST DAY. 

Looking back over the four years of the war, and noting how indurated Ihave at last become, both in body and in emotion, I recall with a sighthat first morning of my correspondentship when I set out solight-hearted and yet so anxious. It was in 1861. I was accompanied tothe War department by an _attaché_ of the United States Senate. The newSecretary, Mr. Edwin M. Stanton, referred me to a Mr. Sanford, "MilitarySupervisor of Army Intelligence, " and after a brief delay I wasrequested to sign a parole and duplicate, specifying my loyalty to theFederal Government, and my promise to publish nothing detrimental to itsinterests. I was then given a circular, which stated explicitly the kindof news termed contraband, and also a printed pass, filled in with myname, age, residence, and newspaper connection. The latter enjoined uponall guards to pass me in and out of camps; and authorized persons inGovernment employ to furnish me with information. 

Our Washington Superintendent sent me a beast, and in compliment to whatthe animal might have been, called the same a horse. I wish to protest, in this record, against any such misnomer. The creature possessed nosingle equine element. Experience has satisfied me that horses stand onfour legs; the horse in question stood upon three. Horses may eitherpace, trot, run, rack, or gallop; but mine made all the five movementsat once. I think I may call his gait an eccentric stumble. That he hadendurance I admit; for he survived perpetual beating; and his beautymight have been apparent to an anatomist, but would be scouted by theworld at large. I asked, ruefully, if I was expected to go into battleso mounted; but was peremptorily forbidden, as a valuable property mightbe endangered thereby. I was assigned to the Pennsylvania Reserve Corpsin the anticipated advance, and my friend, the _attaché_, accompanied meto its rendezvous at Hunter's Mills. We started at two o'clock, andoccupied an hour in passing the city limits. I calculated that, advancing at the same ratio, we should arrive in camp at noon next day. We presented ludicrous figures to the grim sabremen that sat erect atstreet corners, and ladies at the windows of the dwellings smotheredwith suppressed laughter as we floundered along. My friend had thebetter horse; but I was the better rider; and if at any time I grewwrathful at my sorry plight, I had but to look at his and be happyagain. He appeared to be riding on the neck of his beast, and when heattempted to deceive me with a smile, his face became horriblycontorted. Directly his breeches worked above his boots, and his barecalves were objects of hopeless solicitude. Caricatures, rather thanmen, we toiled bruisedly through Georgetown, and falling in the wake ofsupply teams on the Leesburg turnpike, rode between the Potomac on oneside and the dry bed of the canal on the other, till we came at last toChain Bridge. 

There was a grand view from the point of Little Falls above, where aline of foamy cataracts ridged the river, and the rocks towered gloomilyon either hand: and of the city below, with its buildings of puremarble, and the yellow earthworks that crested Arlington Heights. Theclouds over the Potomac were gorgeous in hue, but forests of melancholypine clothed the sides of the hills, and the roar of the river made suchbeautiful monotone that I almost thought it could be translated towords. Our passes were now demanded by a fat, bareheaded officer, andwhile he panted through their contents, two privates crossed theirbayonets before us. 

"News?" he said, in the shortest remark of which he was capable. Whenassured that we had nothing to reveal, he seemed immeasurably relieved, and added--"Great labor, reading!" At this his face grew so dreadfullypurple that I begged him to sit down, and tax himself with no furtherexertion. He wiped his forehead, in reply, gasping like a triton, andmuttering the expressive direction, "right!" disappeared into aguard-box. The two privates winked as they removed their muskets, and weboth laughed immoderately when out of hearing. Our backs were now turnedto the Maryland shore, and jutting grimly from the hill before us, theblack guns of Fort Ethan Allen pointed down the bridge. A double line ofsharp abattis protected it from assault, and sentries walked lazily upand down the parapet. The colors hung against the mast in the dead calm, and the smoke curled straight upward from some log-huts within the fort. The wildness of the surrounding landscape was most remarkable. Withinsight of the Capital of the Republic, the fox yet kept the covert, andthe farms were few and far apart. It seemed to me that little had beendone to clear the country of its primeval timber, and the war hadaccomplished more to give evidence of man and industry, than twocenturies of occupation. A military road had been cut through the solidrocks here; and the original turnpike, which had been little more than acart track, was now graded and macadamized. I passed multitudes ofteams, struggling up the slopes, and the carcasses of mules litteredevery rod of the way. The profanity of the teamsters was painfullyapparent. I came unobserved upon one who was berating his beasts with arefinement of cruelty. He cursed each of them separately, swinging hislong-lashed whip the while, and then damned the six in mass. He wouldhave made a dutiful overseer. The soldiers had shown quite as littleconsideration for the residences along the way. I came to one dwellingwhere some pertinacious Vandal had even pried out the window-frames, andimperilled his neck to tear out the roof-beams; a dead vulture waspinned over the door by pieces of broken bayonets. 

"Langley's, "--a few plank-houses, clustering around a tavern and achurch, --is one of those settlements whose sounding names beguile thereader into an idea of their importance. A lonesome haunt in time ofpeace, it had lately been the winter quarters of fifteen thousandsoldiers, and a multitude of log huts had grown up around it. I tied myhorse to the window-shutter of a dwelling, and picked my way over aslimy sidewalk to the ricketty tavern-porch. Four or five privates layhere fast asleep, and the bar-room was occupied by a bevy of youngofficers, who were emptying the contents of sundry pocket-flasks. Behindthe bar sat a person with strongly-marked Hebrew features, and awatchmaker was plying his avocation in a corner. Two great dogs crouchedunder a bench, and some highly-colored portraits were nailed to thewall. The floor was bare, and some clothing and miscellaneous articleshung from beams in the ceiling. 

"Is this your house?" I said to the Hebrew. 

"I keepsh it now. "

"By right or by conquest?"

"By ze right of conquest, " he said, laughing; and at once proposed tosell me a bootjack and an India-rubber overcoat. I compromised upon ahaversack, which he filled with sandwiches and sardines, and which I ambound to say fell apart in the course of the afternoon. The watchmakerwas an enterprising young fellow, who had resigned his place in a largeBroadway establishment, to speculate in cheap jewelry and do itinerantrepairing. He says that he followed the "Army Paymasters, and soldnumbers of watches, at good premiums, when the troops had money. "Soldiers, he informed me, were reckless spendthrifts; and the prey ofsutlers and sharpers. When there was nothing at hand to purchase, theygambled away their wages, and most of them left the service pennilessand in debt. He thought it perfectly legitimate to secure some silverwhile "going, " but complained that the value of his stock rendered himliable to theft and murder. "There are men in every regiment, " said he, "who would blow out my brains in any lonely place to plunder me of thesewatches. "

At this point, a young officer, in a fit of bacchanal laughter, staggered rather roughly against me. 

"Begurpardon, " he said, with an unsteady bow, "never ran against personin life before. "

I smiled assuringly, but he appeared to think the offence unpardonable. 

"Do asshu a, on honor of gentlemand officer, not in custom of behavingoffensively. Azo! leave it to my friends. Entirely due to injuriesreceived at battle Drainesville. "

As the other gentlemen laughed loudly here, I took it for granted thatmy apologist had some personal hallucination relative to thatengagement. 

"What giggling for, Bob?" he said; "honor concerned in this matter, Will! Do asshu a, fell under Colonel's horse, and Company A walked oversmall of my back. " The other officers were only less inebriated and mostof them spoke boastfully of their personal prowess at Drainesville. Thiswas the only engagement in which the Pennsylvania Reserves had yetparticipated, and few officers that I met did not ascribe the victoryentirely to their own individual gallantry. I inquired of thesegentlemen the route to the new encampments of the Reserves. They layfive miles south of the turnpike, close to the Loudon and Hampshirerailroad, and along both sides of an unfrequented lane. They formed inthis position the right wing of the Army of the Potomac, and had beenordered to hold themselves in hourly readiness for an advance. By thistime, my friend S. Came up, and leaving him to restore his mortifiedbody, I crossed the road to the churchyard and peered through the opendoor into the edifice. The seats of painted pine had been covered withplanks, and a sick man lay above every pew. At the ringing of my spursin the threshold, some of the sufferers looked up through the red eyesof fever, and the faces of others were spectrally white. A few groanedas they turned with difficulty, and some shrank in pain from the glareof the light. Medicines were kept in the altar-place, and a doctor'sclerk was writing requisitions in the pulpit. The sickening smell of thehospital forbade me to enter, and walking across the trampled yard, Icrept through a rent in the paling, and examined the huts in which theReserves had passed the winter. They were built of logs, plastered withmud, and the roofs of some were thatched with straw. Each cabin waspierced for two or more windows; the beds were simply shelves or berths;a rough fireplace of stones and clay communicated with the woodenchimney; and the floors were in most cases damp and bare. Streets, fancifully designated, divided the settlement irregularly; but thetenements were now all deserted save one, where I found a whole familyof "contrabands" or fugitive slaves. These wretched beings, seven innumber, had escaped from a plantation in Albemarle county, andtravelling stealthily by night, over two hundred miles of precipitouscountry, reached the Federal lines on the thirteenth day. The husbandsaid that his name was "Jeems, " and that his wife was called "Kitty;"that his youngest boy had passed the mature age of eight months, andthat the "big girl, Rosy, " was "twelve years Christmas comin'. " Whilethe troops remained at Langley's, the man was employed at seventy-fivecents a week to attend to an officer's horse. Kitty and Rose cooked andwashed for soldiers, and the boys ran errands to Washington andreturn, --twenty-five miles! The eldest boy, Jefferson, had been giventhe use of a crippled team-horse, and traded in newspapers, but havingconfused ideas of the relative value of coins, his profits were onlymoderate. The nag died before the troops removed, and a sutler, underpretence of securing their passage to the North, disappeared with thelittle they had saved. They were quite destitute now, but looked to thefuture with no foreboding, and huddled together in the straw, made apicture of domestic felicity that impressed me greatly with thedocility, contentment, and unfailing good humor of their dusky tribe. The eyes of the children were large and lustrous, and they revealed theclear pearls beneath their lips as they clung bashfully to theirmother's lap. The old lady was smoking a clay pipe; the man running oversome castaway jackets and boots. I remarked particularly the broadshoulders and athletic arms of the woman, whose many childbirths hadleft no traces upon her comeliness. She asked me, wistfully: "Masser, how fur to de nawf?"

"A long way, " said I, "perhaps two hundred miles. "

"Lawd!" she said, buoyantly--"is dat all? Why, Jeems, couldn't we footit, honey?"

"You a most guv out before, ole 'oman, " he replied; "got a good ruffover de head now. Guess de white massar won't let um starve. "

I tossed some coppers to the children and gave each a sandwich. 

"You get up dar, John Thomas!" called the man vigorously; "you tank degentleman, Jefferson, boy! I wonda wha your manners is. Tank you, massar! know'd you was a gentleman, sar! Massar, is your family from oleVirginny?"

It was five o'clock when I rejoined S. , and the greater part of ourjourney had yet to be made. I went at his creeping pace until courtesyyielded to impatience, when spurring my Pegasus vigorously, he fell intoa bouncing amble and left the _attaché_ far behind. My pass was againdemanded above Langley's by a man who ate apples as he examined it, andwho was disposed to hold a long parley. I entered a region of scrubtimber further on, and met with nothing human for four miles, at the endof which distance I reached Difficult Creek, flowing through a rockyravine, and crossed by a military bridge of logs. Through the thickwoods to the right, I heard the roar of the Potomac, and a finger-boardindicated that I was opposite Great Falls. Three or four dead horses layat the roadside beyond the stream, and I recalled the place as the sceneof a recent cavalry encounter. A cartridge-box and a torn felt hat layclose to the carcasses: I knew that some soul had gone hence to itsaccount. 

The road now kept to the left obliquely, and much of my ride was mademusical by the stream. Darkness closed solemnly about me, with sevenmiles of the journey yet to accomplish, and as, at eight o'clock, Iturned from the turnpike into a lonesome by-road, full of ruts, pools, and quicksands, a feeling of delicious uneasiness for the first timepossessed me. Some owls hooted in the depth of the woods, and wild pigs, darting across the road, went crashing into the bushes. Thephosphorescent bark of a blasted tree glimmered on a neighboring knoll, and as I halted at a rivulet to water my beast, I saw a solitary starfloating down the ripples. Directly I came upon a clearing where themoonlight shone through the rents of a crumbling dwelling, and from thefar distance broke the faint howl of farm dogs. A sense of insecuritythat I would not for worlds have resigned, now tingled, now chilled myblood. At last, climbing a stony hill, the skies lay beneath mereddening with the flame of camps and flaring and falling alternately, like the beautiful Northern lights. I heard the ring of hoofs as Ilooked entranced, and in a twinkling, a body of horsemen dashed past meand disappeared. A little beyond, the road grew so thick that I couldsee nothing of my way; but trusting doubtfully to my horse, a deepchallenge came directly from the thicket, and I saw the flash of asabre, as I stammered a reply. Led to a cabin close at hand, my passwas examined by candle-light, and I learned that the nearest camp of theReserves was only a mile farther on, and the regiment of which I was inquest about two miles distant. After another half hour, I reached Ord'sbrigade, whose tents were pitched in a fine grove of oaks; the mentalking, singing, and shouting, around open air fires; and a battery ofbrass Napoleons unlimbered in front, pointing significantly to the Westand South. For a mile and a half I rode by the light of continuouscamps, reaching at last the quarters of the ----th, commanded by aformer newspaper associate of mine, with whom I had gone itemizing, scores of times. His regiment had arrived only the same afternoon, andtheir tents were not yet pitched. Their muskets were stacked along theroadside, and the men lay here and there wrapped in their blankets, anddozing around the fagots. The Colonel was asleep in a wagon, but rousedup at the summons of his Adjutant, and greeting me warmly, directed thecook to prepare a supper of coffee and fried pork. Too hungry to feelthe chafing of my sores and bruises, I fell to the oleaginous repastwith my teeth and fingers, and eating ravenously, asked at last to beshown to my apartments. These consisted of a covered wagon, alreadyoccupied by four teamsters, and a blanket which had evidently been inclose proximity to the hide of a horse. A man named "Coggle, " beingnudged by the Colonel, and requested to take other quarters, askeddolorously if it was time to turn out, and roared "woa, " as if he hadsome consciousness of being kicked. When I asked for a pillow, theColonel laughed, and I had an intuition that the man "Coggle" waslooking at me in the darkness with intense disgust. The Colonel saidthat he had once put a man on double duty for placing his head on asnowball, and warned me satirically that such luxuries were preposterousin the field. He recommended me not to catch cold if I could help it, but said that people in camp commonly caught several colds at once, andadded grimly that if I wished to be shaved in the morning, there was aman close by, who had ground a sabre down to the nice edge of a razor, and who could be made to accommodate me. There were cracks in the bottomof the wagon, through which the cold came like knives, and I wasallotted a space four feet in length, by three feet in width. 

Being six feet in height, my relation to these Procrustean quarters wasmost embarassing; but I doubled up, chatteringly, and lay my head on myarm. In a short time I experienced a sensation akin to that of beingguillotined, and sitting bolt upright, found the teamsters in thesoundest of Lethean conditions. As the man next to me snored veryloudly, I adopted the brilliant idea of making a pillow of his thigh;which answered my best expectations. I was aroused after a while, bywhat I thought to be the violent hands of this person, but which, to mygreat chagrin, proved to be S. , intent upon dividing my place with me. Resistance was useless. I submitted to martyrdom with due resignation, but half resolved to go home in the morning, and shun, for the future, the horrible romance of camps. 

CHAPTER III. 

A GENERAL UNDER THE MICROSCOPE. 

When I awoke at Colonel Taggert's tent the morning afterward, I hadverified the common experience of camps by "catching several colds atonce, " and felt a general sensation of being cut off at the knees. PoorS. , who joined me at the fire, states that he believed himself to betied in knots, and that he should return afoot to Washington. Our horseslooked no worse, for that would have been manifestly impossible. We weremade the butts of much jesting at breakfast; and S. Said, in a spirit ofatrocity, that camp wit was quite as bad as camp "wittles. " I bade himadieu at five o'clock A. M. , when he had secured passage to the city ina sutler's wagon. Remounting my own fiery courser, I bade the Colonel atemporary farewell, and proceeded in the direction of Meade's andReynold's brigades. The drum and fife were now beating _reveillé_, andvolunteers in various stages of undress were limping to roll-call. Somewore one shoe, and others appeared shivering in their linen. They stoodludicrously in rank, and a succession of short, dry coughs ran up anddown the line, as if to indicate those who should escape the bullet forthe lingering agonies of the hospital. The ground was damp, and fog wasrising from the hollows and fens. Some signal corps officers werepractising with flags in a ploughed field, and negro stewards werestirring about the cook fires. A few supply wagons that I passed theprevious day were just creaking into camp, having travelled most of thenight. I saw that the country was rude, but the farms were close, andthe dwellings in many cases inhabited. The vicinity had previously beenunoccupied by either army, and rapine had as yet appropriated only thefields for camps and the fences for fuel. I was directed to theheadquarters of Major-General M'Call, --a cluster of wall tents in thefar corner of a grain-field, concealed from public view by a projectingpoint of woods. A Sibley tent stood close at hand, where a soldier inblue overcoat was reading signals through a telescope. I mistook thetent for the General's, and riding up to the soldier was requested tostand out of the way. I moved to his rear, but he said curtly that I wasobstructing the light. I then dismounted, and led my horse to a clump oftrees a rod distant. 

"Don't hitch there, " said the soldier; "you block up the view. "

A little ruffled at this manifest discourtesy, I asked the man to denotesome point within a radius of a mile where I would _not_ interfere withhis operations. He said in reply, that it was not his business to denotehitching-stalls for anybody. I thought, in that case, that I should staywhere I was, and he politely informed me that I might stay andbe--jammed. I found afterward that this individual was troubled with akind of insanity peculiar to all headquarters, arising out of anexaggerated idea of his own importance. I had the pleasure, a fewminutes afterward, of hearing him ordered to feed my horse. A thickset, gray-haired man sat near by, undergoing the process of shaving by a verynervous negro. The thickset man was also exercising the privileges ofhis rank; but the more he berated his attendant's awkwardness, the morenervous the other became. I addressed myself mutually to master and man, in an inquiry as to the precise quarters of the General in command. Thelatter pointed to a wall tent contiguous, and was cursed by the thicksetman for not minding his business. The thickset man remarkedsubstantially, that he didn't know anything about it, and was at thatmoment cut by the negro, to my infinite delight. Before the wall tent inquestion stood a tall, broad-shouldered gentleman in shirt-sleeves andslippers, warming his back and hands at a fire. He was watching, throughan aperture in the tent, the movements of a private who was cleaning hisboots. I noticed that he wore a seal ring, and that he opened and shuthis eyes very rapidly. He was, otherwise, a very respectable anddignified gentleman. 

"Is this General M'Call?" said I, a little discomposed. The gentlemanlooked abstractedly into my eyes, opening and shutting his own severaltimes, as if doubtful of his personality, and at last decided that he_was_ General M'Call. 

"What is it?" he said gravely, but without the slightest curiosity. 

"I have a letter for you, sir, I believe. "

He put the letter behind his back, and went on warming his hands. Havingwinked several times again, apparently forgetting all about the matter, I ventured to add that the letter was merely introductory. He looked atit, mechanically. 

"Who opened it?" he said. 

"Letters of introduction are not commonly sealed, General. "

"Who are you?" he asked, indifferently. 

I told him that the contents of the letter would explain my errand; buthe had, meantime, relapsed into abstractedness, and winked, and warmedhis hands, for at least, five minutes. At the end of that time, he readthe letter very deliberately, and said that he was glad to see me incamp. He intimated, that if I was not already located, I could beprovided with bed and meals at headquarters. He stated, in relation tomy correspondence, that all letters sent from the Reserve Corps, must, without any reservations, be submitted to him in person. I was obligedto promise compliance, but had gloomy forebodings that the Generalwould occupy a fortnight in the examination of each letter. He invitedme to breakfast, proposed to make me acquainted with his staff, and was, in all respects, a very grave, prudent, and affable soldier. I may say, incidentally, that I adopted the device of penning a couple of gossipyepistles, the length and folly of which, so irritated General M'Call, that he released me from the penalty of submitting my compositions forthe future. 

I took up my permanent abode with quartermaster Kingwalt, a very princeof old soldiers, who had devoted much of a sturdy life to promoting themilitia interests of the populous county of Chester. When the war-feverswept down his beautiful valley, and the drum called the young men fromvillages and farms, this ancient yeoman and miller--for he wasboth--took a musket at the sprightly age of sixty-five, and joined aVolunteer company. Neither ridicule nor entreaty could bend his purpose;but the Secretary of War, hearing of the case, conferred a brigadequartermastership upon him. He threw off the infirmities of age, steppedas proudly as any youngster, and became, emphatically, the bestquartermaster in the Division. He never delayed an advance with tardyteams, nor kept the General tentless, nor penned irregular requisitions, nor wasted the property of Government. The ague seized him, occasionally, and shook his grey hairs fearfully; but he alwaysrecovered to ride his black stallion on long forages, and his greatstrength and bulk were the envy of all the young officers. 

He grasped my hand so heartily that I positively howled, and commanded atall sergeant, rejoicing in the name of Clover, to take away my horseand split him up for kindling wood. 

"We must give him the blue roan, that Fogg rides, " said thequartermaster, to the great dejection of Fogg, a short stout youth, whowas posting accounts. I was glad to see, however, that Fogg was notdisposed to be angry, and when informed that a certain iron-gray nag wasat his disposal, he was in a perfect glow of good humor. The other_attachés_ were a German, whose name, as I caught it, seemed to beSkyhiski; and a pleasant lad called Owen, whose disposition was so mild, that I wondered how he had adopted the bloody profession of arms. Ablack boy belonged to the establishment, remarkable, chiefly, forgetting close to the heels of the black stallion, and being frequentlykicked; he was employed to feed and brush the said stallion, and theantipathy between them was intense. 

The above curious military combination, slept under a great tarpaulincanopy, originally used for covering commissary stores from the rain. Our meals were taken in the open air, and prepared by Skyhiski; butthere was a second tent, provided with desk and secretary, where Mr. Fogg performed his clerk duties, daily. When I had relieved my Pegasusof his saddle, and penned some paragraphs for a future letter, Istrolled down the road with the old gentleman, who insisted upon showingme Hunter's mill, a storm-beaten structure, that looked like a greatbarn. The mill-race had been drained by some soldiers for the purpose ofsecuring the fish contained in it, and the mill-wheel was quite dry andmotionless. Difficult Creek ran impetuously across the road below, as ifanxious to be put to some use again; and the miller's house adjoining, was now used as a hospital, for Lieutenant-Colonel Kane, and someinferior officers. It was a favorite design of the Quartermaster's toscrape the mill-stone, repair the race, and put the great breast-wheelto work. One could see that the soldier had not entirely obliterated themiller, and as he related, with a glowing face, the plans that he hadproposed to recuperate the tottering structure, and make it serviceableto the army, I felt a regret that such peaceful ambitions should haveever been overruled by the call to arms. 

While we stood at the mill window, watching the long stretches of whitetents and speculating upon the results of war, we saw several menrunning across the road toward a hill-top cottage, where General Meademade his quarters. A small group was collected at the cottage, reconnoitring something through their telescopes. As I hastened in thatdirection, I heard confused voices, thus: "No, it isn't!" "It is!" "Canyou make out his shoulder-bar?" "What is the color of his coat?" "Gray!""No, it's butternut!" "Has he a musket!" "Yes, he is levelling it!" Atthis the group scattered in every direction. "Pshaw!" said one, "we areout of range; besides, it is a telescope that he has. By----, it is aRebel, reconnoitring our camp!" There was a manifest sensation here, andone man wondered how he had passed the picket. Another suggested that hemight be accompanied by a troop, and a third convulsed the circle bydeclaring that there were six other Rebels visible in a woods to theleft. Mr. Fogg had meantime come up and proffered me a field-glass, through which I certainly made out a person in gray, standing in themiddle of the road just at the ridge of a hill. When I dropped my glassI saw him distinctly with the naked eye. He was probably a mile distant, and his gray vesture was little relieved by the blue haze of the forest. 

"He is going, " exclaimed a private, excitedly; "where's the man that wasto try a lead on him?" Several started impulsively for their pieces, andsome officers called for their horses. "There go his knees!" "His bodyis behind the hill!" "Now his head----"

"Crack! crack! crack!" spluttered musketry from the edge of the mill, and like as many rockets darted a score of horsemen through the creekand up the steep. Directly a faint hurrah pealed from the camp nearestthe mill. It passed to the next camp and the next; for all were nowearnestly watching; and finally a medley of cheers shook the air and theear. Thousands of brave men were shouting the requiem of one paltrylife. The rash fool had bought with his temerity a bullet in the brain. When I saw him--dusty and still bleeding--he was beset by a fullregiment of idlers, to whom death had neither awe nor respect. Theytalked of the delicate shot, as connoisseurs in the art of murder, --andtwo men dug him a grave on the green before the mill, wherein he wastossed like a dog or a vulture, to be lulled, let us hope, by the musicof the grinding, when grain shall ripen once more. 

I had an opportunity, after dinner, to inspect the camp of the"Bucktails, " a regiment of Pennsylvania backwoodsmen, whose efficiencyas skirmishers has been adverted to by all chroniclers of the civil war. They wore the common blue blouse and breeches, but were distinguished bysquirrel tails fastened to their caps. They were reputed to be the bestmarksmen in the service, and were generally allowed, in action, to taketheir own positions and fire at will. Crawling through thick woods, ortrailing serpent-like through the tangled grass, these mountaineers werefor a time the terror of the Confederates; but when their mode offighting had been understood, their adversaries improved upon it to sucha degree that at the date of this writing there is scarcely a Corporal'sguard of the original Bucktail regiment remaining. Slaughtered on thefield, perishing in prison, disabled or paroled, they have lost boththeir prestige and their strength. I remarked among these worthies apartiality for fisticuffs, and a dislike for the manual of arms. Theydrilled badly, and were reported to be adepts at thieving and unlicensedforaging. 

The second night in camp was pleasantly passed. Some sociableofficers--favorites with Captain Kingwalt--congregated under thetarpaulin, after supper-hour, and when a long-necked bottle had beenemptied and replenished, there were many quaint stories related andcurious individualities revealed. I dropped asleep while the hilaritywas at its height, and Fogg covered me with a thick blanket as I lay. The enemy might have come upon us in the darkness; but if death werehalf so sound as my slumber afield, I should have bid it welcome. 

CHAPTER IV. 

A FORAGING ADVENTURE. 

There was a newsboy named "Charley, " who slept at Captain Kingwalt'severy second night, and who returned my beast to his owner inWashington. The aphorism that a Yankee can do anything, was exemplifiedby this lad; for he worked my snail into a gallop. He was born inChelsea, Massachusetts, and appeared to have taken to speculation at theage when most children are learning A B C. He was now in his fourteenthyear, owned two horses, and employed another boy to sell papers for himlikewise. His profits upon daily sales of four hundred journals wereabout thirty-two dollars. He had five hundred dollars in bank, and wasdebating with Captain Kingwalt the propriety of founding an army expressand general agency. Such a self-reliant, swaggering, far-sighted, andimpertinent boy I never knew. He was a favorite with the Captain'sblack-boy, and upon thorough terms of equality with the CommandingGeneral. His papers cost him in Washington a cent and a half each, andhe sold them in camp for ten cents each. I have not the slightest doubtthat I shall hear of him again as the proprietor of an overland mail, orthe patron and capitalist of Greenland emigration. 

I passed the second and third days quietly in camp, writing a couple ofletters, studying somewhat of fortification, and making flying visits tovarious officers. There was but one other Reporter with this division ofthe army. He represented a New York journal, and I could not butcontrast his fine steed and equipments with the scanty accommodationsthat my provincial establishment had provided for me. His saddle was acushioned McClellan, with spangled breast-strap and plump saddle-bags, and his bridle was adorned with a bright curb bit and twilled reins. Hewore a field-glass belted about his body, and was plentifully providedwith money to purchase items of news, if they were at any time difficultto obtain. I resolved inwardly to seize the first opportunity ofchanging establishments, so that I might be placed upon as good afooting. My relations with camp, otherwise, were of the happiestcharacter; for the troops were State-people of mine, and, as reportershad not yet abused the privileges accorded them, my profession was heldin some repute. I made the round of various "messes, " and soon adoptedthe current dissipations of the field, --late hours, long stories, incessant smoking, and raw spirits. There were some restless minds aboutme, whose funds of anecdote and jest were apparently inexhaustible. I donot know that so many eccentric, adventurous, and fluent people are tobe found among any other nationality of soldiers, not excepting theIrish. 

The blue roan of which friend Fogg had been deprived, exhibitedoccasional evidences of a desire to break my neck. I was obliged todispense with the spur in riding him, but he nevertheless dashed off attimes, and put me into an agony of fear. On those occasions I managed toretain my seat, and gained thereby the reputation of being a very fineequestrian. As there were few civilians in camp, and as I wore a graysuit, and appeared to be in request at head-quarters, a rumor wasdeveloped and gained currency that I was attached to the Division in thecapacity of a scout. When my horse became unmanageable, therefore, hisspeed was generally accelerated by the cheers of soldiers, and I becamean object of curiosity in every quarter, to my infinite mortificationand dread. 

The Captain was to set off on the fourth day, to purchase or seize somehay and grain that were stacked at neighboring farms. We prepared to goat eight o'clock, but were detained somewhat by reason of Skyhiski beinginebriated the night before, and thereby delaying the breakfast, andafterward the fact that the black stallion had laid open the black-boy'sleg. However, at a quarter past nine, the Captain, Sergeant Clover, Fogg, Owen, and myself, with six four-horse wagons, filed down therailroad track until we came to a bridge that some laborers wererepairing, where we turned to the left through some soggy fields, andforded Difficult Creek. As there was no road to follow, we kept straightthrough a wood of young maples and chestnut-trees. Occasionally a trunkor projecting branch stopped the wagons, when the teamsters opened theway with their axes. After two hours of slow advance, we came to the endof the wood, and climbed a succession of hilly fields. From the summitof the last of these, a splendid sweep of farm country was revealed, dotted with quaint Virginia dwellings, stackyards, and negro-cabins, anddivided by miles of tortuous worm-fence. The eyes of the Quartermasterbrightened at the prospect, though I am afraid that he thought only ofthe abundant forage; but my own grew hazy as I spoke of the peacefulpeople and the neglected fields. The plough had furrowed none of theseacres, and some crows, that screamed gutturally from a neighboringash-tree, seemed lean and pinched for lack of their plunder of corn. 

Many of the dwellings were guarded by soldiers; but of the residentcitizens only the women and the old men remained. I did not need to askwhere the young men were exiled. The residue that prayed with theirfaces toward Richmond, told me the story with their eyes. There was, nevertheless, no melodramatic exhibition of feeling among the bereaved. I did not see any defiant postures, nor hear any melting apostrophies. Marius was not mouthing by the ruins of Carthage, nor even Rachelweeping for her Hebrew children. But there were on every handmanifestations of adherence to the Southern cause, except among a fewmales who feared unutterable things, and were disposed to cringe andprevaricate. The women were not generally handsome; their face wasindolent, their dress slovenly, and their manner embarrassed. Theylopped off the beginnings and the ends of their sentences, generallycommencing with a verb, as thus: "Told soldiers not to carr' off therye; declared they would; said they bound do jest what they pleased. Let'em go!"

The Captain stopped at a spruce residence, approached by a long lane, and on knocking at the porch with his ponderous fist, a woman cametimidly to the kitchen window. 

"Who's thar?" she said, after a moment. 

"Come out young woman, " said the Captain, soothingly; "we don't intendto murder or rob you, ma'am!"

There dropped from the doorsill into the yard, not one, but three youngwomen, followed by a very deaf old man, who appeared to think that theCaptain's visit bore some reference to the hencoop. 

"I wish to buy for the use of the United States Government, " said theCaptain, "some stacks of hay and corn fodder, that lie in one of yourfields. "

"The last hen was toted off this morning before breakfast, " said the oldman; "they took the turkeys yesterday, and I was obliged to kill theducks or I shouldn't have had anything to eat. "

Here Fogg so misdemeaned himself, as to laugh through his nose, and theman Clover appeared to be suddenly interested in something that lay in amulberry-tree opposite. 

"I am provided with money to pay liberally for your produce, and youcannot do better than to let me take the stacks: leaving you, of course, enough for your own horses and cattle. "

Here the old man pricked up his ears, and said that he hadn't heard ofany recent battle; for his part, he had never been a politician; butthought that both parties were a little wrong; and wished that peacewould return: for he was a very old man, and was sorry that folkscouldn't let quiet folks' property alone. How far his garrulity mighthave betrayed him, could be conjectured only by one of the girls takinghis hand and leading him submissively into the house. 

The eldest daughter said that the Captain might take the stacks at hisown valuation, but trusted to his honor as a soldier, and as he seemed, a gentleman, to deal justly by them. There could be no crop harvestedfor a twelvemonth, and beggary looked them in the face. I have neverbeheld anything more chivalrously gallant, than the sturdy oldquartermaster's attitude. He blended in tone and face the politeness ofa diplomat and the gentleness of a father. They asked him to return tothe house, with his _officers_, when he had loaded the wagons; fordinner was being prepared, and they hoped that Virginians could behospitable, even to their enemies. As to the hay and fodder, none needbe left; for the Confederates had seized their horses some monthsbefore, and driven off their cows when they retired from theneighborhood. 

I so admired the queer gables and great brick ovens of the house, that Iresolved to tie my horse, and rest under the crooked porch. The eldestyoung lady had taken me to be a prisoner, and was greatly astonishedthat the Quartermaster permitted me to go at large. She asked me to havea chair in the parlor, but when I made my appearance there, the twoyounger sisters fled precipitately. The old man was shaking his headsadly by the fireplace. Some logs burned on the andirons with a redflame. The furniture consisted of a mahogany sideboard, table, andchairs, --ponderous in pattern; and a series of family portraits, in asprawling style of art, smirked and postured on the wall. The floor wasbare, but shone by reason of repeated scrubbing, and the blackmantel-piece was a fine specimen of colonial carving in the staunchestof walnut-wood. 

Directly the two younger girls--though the youngest must have beentwenty years of age--came back with averted eyes and the silliest ofgiggles. They sat a little distance apart, and occasionally nodded orsignalled like school children. 

"Wish you _would_ stop, Bell!" said one of these misses, --whose flaxenhair was plastered across her eyebrows, and who was very tall andslender. 

"See if I don't tell on you, " said the other, --a dark miss with roguisheyes and fat, plump figure, and curls that shook ever so merrily abouther shoulders. 

"Declar' I never said so, if he asks me; declar' I will. "

"Tell on you, --you see! Won't he be jealous? How he will car' on!"

I made out that these young ladies were intent upon publishing theirobligations to certain sweethearts of theirs, who, as it afterwardseemed, were in the army at Manassas Junction. I said to thecurly-haired miss, that she was endangering the life of her enamored;for it would become an object with all the anxious troops in thevicinity to shorten his days. The old man roused up here, and remarkedthat his health certainly was declining; but he hoped to survive a whilelonger for the sake of his children; that he was no politician, andalways said that the negroes were very ungrateful people. He caught hisdaughter's eye finally, and cowered stupidly, nodding at the fire. 

I remarked to the eldest young woman, --called Prissy (Priscilla) by hersister, --that the country hereabout was pleasantly wooded. She said, insubstance, that every part of Virginia was beautiful, and that she didnot wish to survive the disgrace of the old commonwealth. 

"Become right down hateful since Yankees invaded it!" exclaimed MissBell. "_Some_ Yankee's handsome sister, " said Miss Bessie, theproprietor of the curls, "think some Yankees puffick gentlemen!"

"Oh, you traitor!" said the other, --"wish _Henry_ heard you say that!"

Miss Bell intimated that she should take the first opportunity oftelling him the same, and I eulogized her good judgment. Priscilla nowbegged to be excused for a moment, as, since the flight of the negroproperty, the care of the table had devolved mainly upon her. A singleaged servant, too feeble or too faithful to decamp, still attended tothe menial functions, and two mulatto children remained to relieve themof light labor. She was a dignified, matronly young lady, and, as one ofthe sisters informed me, plighted to a Major in the Confederate service. The others chattered flippantly for an hour, and said that the old placewas dreadfully lonesome of late. Miss Bell was _sure_ she should die ifanother winter, similar to the last, occurred. She loved company, andhad always found it _so_ lively in Loudon before; whereas she hadpositively been but twice to a neighbor's for a twelvemonth, and hadquite forgotten the road to the mill. She said, finally, that, ratherthan undergo another such isolation, she would become a _Vivandiere_ inthe Yankee army. The slender sister was altogether wedded to the idea ofher lover's. "_Wouldn't_ she tell Henry? and _shouldn't_ she write toJeems? and oh, Bessie, you would not _dare_ to repeat that before_him_. " In short, I was at first amused, and afterwards annoyed, by thisyoung lady, whereas the roguish-eyed miss improved greatly uponacquaintance. 

After a while, Captain Kingwalt came in, trailing his spurs over thefloor, and leaving sunshine in his wake. There was something galvanic inhis gentleness, and infectious in his merriment. He told them at dinnerof his own daughters on the Brandywine, and invented stories of Fogg'scourtships, till that young gentleman first blushed, and afterwarddropped his plate. Our meal was a frugal one, consisting mainly of theducks referred to, some vegetables, corn-bread, and coffee made ofwasted rye. There were neither sugar, spices, nor tea, on the premises, and the salt before us was the last in the dwelling. The Captainpromised to send them both coffee and salt, and Fogg volunteered tobring the same to the house, whereat the Captain teased him till he leftthe table. 

At this time, a little boy, who was ostensibly a waiter, cried: "MissPrissy, soldiers is climbin' in de hog-pen. "

"I knew we should lose the last living thing on the property, " said thisyoung lady, much distressed. 

The Captain went to the door, and found three strolling Bucktailslooking covetously at the swine. They were a little discomposed at hisappearance, and edged off suspiciously. 

"Halt!" said the old man in his great voice, "where are you men going?"

"Just makin' reconnoissance, " said one of the freebooters; "s'pose afeller has a right to walk around, hain't he?"

"Not unless he has a pass, " said the Quartermaster; "have you writtenpermission to leave camp?"

"Left'nant s'posed we might. Don't know as it's your business. Never see_you_ in the regiment. "

"It is my business, as an officer of the United States, to see that nosoldier strays from camp unauthorizedly, or depredates upon privateproperty. I will take your names, and report you, first for straggling, secondly for insolence!"

"Put to it, Bill!" said the speaker of the foragers; "run, Bob! go ithearties!" And they took to their heels, cleared a pair of fences, andwere lost behind some outbuildings. The Captain could be harsh as wellas generous, and was about mounting his horse impulsively, to overtakeand punish the fugitives, when Priscilla begged him to refrain, as anenforcement of discipline on his part might bring insult upon herhelpless household. I availed myself of a pause in the Captain's wrath, to ask Miss Priscilla if she would allow me to lodge in the dwelling. Five nights' experience in camp had somewhat reduced my enthusiasm, andI already wearied of the damp beds, the hard fare, and the coarseconversation of the bivouac. The young lady assented willingly, as shestated that the presence of a young man would both amuse and protect thefamily. For several nights she had not slept, and had imagined footstepson the porch and the drawing of window-bolts. There was a bed, formerlyoccupied by her brother, that I might take, but must depend upon ratherlaggard attendance. I had the satisfaction, therefore, of seeing theCaptain and retinue mount their horses, and wave me a temporary good by. Poor Fogg looked back so often and so seriously that I expected to seehim fall from the saddle. The young ladies were much impressed with theCaptain's manliness, and Miss Bell wondered _how_ such a _puffick_gentleman could _reconcile_ himself to the Yankee cause. She had felt adesire to speak to him upon that point as she was _sure_ he was of finestock, and entirely averse to the invasion of such territory as that of_dear_ old Virginia. There was something in his manner that _so_reminded her of some one who should be _nameless_ for the present; butthe "nameless" was, _of course_, young, _handsome_, and _so_ brave. Iruthlessly dissipated her theory of the Captain's origin, by statingthat he was of humble German descent, so far as I knew, and had probablynever beheld Virginia till preceded by the bayonets of his neighbors. 

After tea Miss Bessie produced a pitcher of rare cider, that came from acertain mysterious quarter of the cellar. A chessboard was forthcomingat a later hour, when we amused ourselves with a couple of games, facetiously dubbing our chessman Federals and Confederates. Miss Bell, meanwhile, betook herself to a diary, wherein she minutely related theincidents and sentiments of successive days. The quantity of wordsunderscored in the same autobiography would have speedily exhausted thecase of italics, if the printer had obtained it. I was so beguiled bythese patriarchal people, that I several times asked myself if thecircumstances were real. Was I in a hostile country, surrounded bythousands of armed men? Were the incidents of this evening portions ofan historic era, and the ground about me to be commemorated bybloodshed? Was this, in fact, revolution, and were these simple countrygirls and their lovers revolutionists? The logs burned cheerily upon thehearth, and the ancestral portraits glowered contemplatively from thewalls. Miss Prissy looked dreamily into the fire, and the old man snoredwheezily in a corner. A gray cat purred in Miss Bell's lap, and MissBessie was writing some nonsense in my note-book. 

A sharp knock fell upon the door, and something that sounded like thebutt of a musket shook the porch without. The girls turned pale, and Ithink that Miss Bessie seized my arm and clung to it. I think also, thatMiss Bell attempted to take the other arm, to which I demurred. 

"Those brutal soldiers again!" said Priscilla, faintly. 

"I think one of the andirons has fallen down, darter!" said the old man, rousing up. 

"Tremble for my life, " said Miss Bell; "_sure_ shall die if it's _aman_. "

I opened the door after a little pause, when a couple of rough privatesin uniform confronted me. 

"We're two guards that General Meade sent to protect the house andproperty, " said the tallest of these men; "might a feller come in andwarm his feet!"

I understood at once that the Quartermaster had obtained these persons;and the other man coming forward, said--

"I fetched some coffee over, and a bag o' salt, with Corporal Fogg'scompliments. "

They deposited their muskets in a corner, and balanced their boots onthe fender. Nothing was said for a time. 

"Did you lose yer poultry?" said the tall man, at length. 

"All, " said Miss Priscilla. 

"Fellers loves poultry!" said the man, smacking his lips. 

"Did you lose yer sheep?" said the same man, after a little silence. 

"The Bucktails cut their throats the first day that they encamped at themill, " said Miss Priscilla. 

"Them Bucktails great fellers, " said the tall man; "them Bucktails awfulon sheep: they loves 'em so!"

He relapsed again for a few minutes, when he continued: "You don't likefellers to bag yer poultry and sheep, do you?"

Miss Priscilla replied that it was both dishonest and cruel. Miss Bellintimated that none but Yankees would do it. 

"P'raps not, " said the tall soldier, drily; "did you ever grub on fatpork, Miss? No? Did you ever gnaw yer hard tack after a spell o'sickness, and a ten-hour march? No? P'raps you might like a streak o'mutton arterwards! P'raps you might take a notion for a couple o'chickens or so! No? How's that, Ike? What do you think, pardner? (to me)I ain't over and above cruel, mum. I don't think the Bucktails is overand above dishonest to home, mum. But, gosh hang it, I think I _would_bag a chicken any day! I say that above board. Hey, Ike?"

When the tall man and his inferior satellite had warmed their boots tillthey smoked, they rose, recovered their muskets, and bowed themselvesinto the yard. Soon afterward I bade the young ladies good night, andrepaired to my room. The tall man and his associate were pacing up anddown the grass-plot, and they looked very cold and comfortless, Ithought. I should have liked to obtain for them a draught of cider, butprudently abstained; for every man in the army would thereby becomecognizant of its existence. So I placed my head once more upon a softpillow, and pitied the chilled soldiers who slept upon the turf. Ithought of Miss Bessie with her roguish eyes, and wondered what themeswere now engrossing her. I asked myself if this was the romance of war, and if it would bear relating to one's children when he grew as old andas deaf as the wheezy gentleman down-stairs. In fine, I was a littlesentimental, somewhat reflective, and very drowsy. So, after a while, processions of freebooting soldiers, foraging Quartermasters, deafgentlemen, Fogg's regiment, and multitudes of ghosts from Manassas, drifted by in my dreams. And, in the end, Miss Bessie's long curlsbrushed into my eyes, and I found the morning, ruddy as her cheeks, blushing at the window. 

CHAPTER V. 

WHAT A MARCH IS IN FACT. 

I found at breakfast, that Miss Bessie had been placed beside me, and Iso far forgot myself as to forget all other persons at the table. MissPriscilla asked to be helped to the corn-bread, and I deposited aquantity of the same upon Miss Bessie's plate. Miss Bell asked if I didnot love _dear_ old Virginia, and I replied to Miss Bessie that it hadlately become very attractive, and that, in fact, I was decidedlyrebellious in my sympathy with the distressed Virginians. I _did_except, however, the man darkly mooted as "Henry, " and hoped that hewould be disfigured--not killed--at the earliest engagement. The deafold gentleman bristled up here and asked _who_ had been killed at therecent engagement. There was a man named Jeems Lee, --a distantconnection of the Lightfoots, --not the Hampshire Lightfoots, but theFauquier Lightfoots, --who had distinctly appeared to the old gentlemanfor several nights, robed in black, and carrying a coffin under his arm. Since I had mentioned his name, he recalled the circumstance, and hopedthat Jeems Lightfoot had not disgraced his ancestry. Nevertheless, thedeaf gentleman was not to be understood as expressing any opinion uponthe merits of the war. For _his_ part he thought both sides a littlewrong, and the crops were really in a dreadful state. The negroes werevery ungrateful people and property should be held sacred by allbelligerents. 

At this point he caught Miss Priscilla's eye, and was transfixed withconscious guilt. 

I had, meantime, been infringing upon Miss Bessie's feet, --very prettyfeet they were!--which expressive but not very refined method ofcorrespondence caused her to blush to the eyes. Miss Bell, noticing thesame, was determined to tell '_Henry_' at once, and I hoped in my heartthat she would set out for Manassas to further that purpose. 

The door opened here, and the rubicund visage of Mr. Fogg appeared likethe head of the Medusa. He said that 'Captain' had ordered the blue roanto be saddled and brought over to me, but I knew that this was a cunningdevice on his part, to revisit the dwelling. Miss Bell, somehow caughtthe idea that Fogg was enamored of her, and the poor fellow wassubjected to a volley of tender innuendos and languishing glances, thatby turn mortified and enraged him. 

I bade the good people adieu at eight o'clock, promising to return fordinner at five; and Miss Bessie accompanied me to the lane, where I tookleave of her with a secret whisper and a warm grasp of the hand. One ofher rings had somehow adhered to my finger, which Fogg remarked with abilious expression of countenance. I had no sooner got astride of theblue roan than he darted off like the wind, and subjected me to greatterror, alternating to chagrin, when I turned back and beheld all theyoung ladies waving their handkerchiefs. They evidently thought me anunrivalled equestrian. 

I rode to a picket post two miles from the mill, passing over the spotwhere the Confederate soldier had fallen. The picket consisted of twocompanies or one hundred and sixty men. Half of them were sitting arounda fire concealed in the woods, and the rest were scattered along theedges of a piece of close timber. I climbed a lookout-tree by means ofcross-strips nailed to the trunk, and beheld from the summit a longsuccession of hazy hills, valleys, and forests, with the Blue RidgeMountains bounding the distance, like some mighty monster, enclosing theworld in its coils. This was the country of the enemy, and a Lieutenantobligingly pointed out to me the curling smoke of their pickets, a fewmiles away. The cleft of Manassas was plainly visible, and I traced theline of the Gap Railway to its junction with the Orange and Alexandriaroad, below Bull Run. For aught that I knew, some concealed observermight now be watching me from the pine-tops on the nearest knoll. Somerifleman might be running his practised eye down the deadly groove, totopple me from my perch, and send me crashing through the boughs. Theuncertainty, the hazard, the novelty of my position had at this time anindescribable charm: but subsequent exposures dissipated the romance andtaught me the folly of such adventures. 

The afternoon went dryly by: for a drizzling rain fell at noon; but atfour o'clock I saddled the blue roan and went to ride with Fogg. Weretraced the road to Colonel T----s, and crossing a boggy brook, turnedup the hills and passed toward the Potomac. Fogg had been aschoolmaster, and many of his narrations indicated keen perception andclever comprehension. He so amused me on this particular occasion that Iquite forgot my engagement for dinner, and unwittingly strolled beyondthe farthest brigade. 

Suddenly, we heard a bugle-call from the picket-post before us, and, atthe same moment, the drums beat from the camp behind. Our horses prickedup their ears and Fogg stared inquiringly. As we turned back we heardapproaching hoofs and the blue roan exhibited intentions of runningaway. I pulled his rein in vain. He would neither be soothed norcommanded. A whole company of cavalry closed up with him at length, andthe sabres clattered in their scabbards as they galloped toward camp atthe top of their speed. With a spring that almost shook me from thesaddle and drove the stirrups flying from my feet, the blue roan dashedthe dust into the eyes of Fogg, and led the race. 

Not the wild yager on his gait to perdition, rode so fearfully. Trees, bogs, huts, bushes, went by like lightning. The hot breath of the nagrose to my nostrils and at every leap I seemed vaulting among thespheres. 

I speak thus flippantly now, of what was then the agony of death. Igrasped the pommel of my saddle, mechanically winding the lines about mywrist, and clung with the tenacity of sin clutching the world. Somesoldiers looked wonderingly from the wayside, but did not heed my shriekof "stop him, for God's sake!" A ditch crossed the lane, --deep andwide, --and I felt that my moment had come: with a spring that seemed tobreak thew and sinew, the blue roan cleared it, pitching upon his knees, but recovered directly and darted onward again. I knew that I shouldfall headlong now, to be trampled by the fierce horsemen behind, butretained my grasp though my heart was choking me. The camps were inconfusion as I swept past them. A sharp clearness of sense and thoughtenabled me to note distinctly the minutest occurrences. I marked longlines of men cloaked, and carrying knapsacks, drummer-boys beating musicthat I had whistled in many a ramble, --field-officers shouting ordersfrom their saddles, and cannon limbered up as if ready to move, --tentstaken down and teams waiting to be loaded; all the evidences of anadvance, that I alas should never witness, lying bruised and mangled bythe roadside. A cheer saluted me as I passed some of Meade's regiments. "It is the scout that fetched the orders for an advance!" said several, and one man remarked that "that feller was the most reckless rider hehad ever beheld. " The crisis came at length: a wagon had stopped theway; my horse in turning it, stepped upon a stake, and slipping rolledheavily upon his side, tossing me like an acrobat, over his head, butwithout further injury than a terrible nervous shock and a rent in mypantaloons. 

I employed a small boy to lead the blue roan to Captain Kingwalt'squarters, and as I limped wearily after, some regiments came toward methrough the fields. General McCall responded to my salute; he rode inthe advance. The Quartermaster's party was loading the tents andutensils. The rain fell smartly as dusk deepened into night, and thebrush tents now deserted by the soldiers, were set on fire. Beingcomposed of dry combustible material, they burned rapidly and with anintense flame. The fields in every direction were revealed, swarmingwith men, horses, batteries, and wagons. Some of the regiments began themarch in silence; others sang familiar ballads as they moved in column. A few, riotously disposed, shrieked, whistled, and cheered. Thestandards were folded; the drums did not mark time; the orders were fewand short. The cannoneers sat moodily upon the caissons, and thecavalry-men walked their horses sedately. Although fifteen thousand mencomprised the whole corps, each of its three brigades would have seemedas numerous to a novice. The teams of each brigade closed up the rear, and a quartermaster's guard was detailed from each regiment to marchbeside its own wagons. When the troops were fairly under way, and thebrush burning along from continuous miles of road, the effect was grandbeyond all that I had witnessed. The country people gathered in frightat the cottage doors, and the farm-dogs bayed dismally at the unwontedscene. I refused to ride the blue roan again, but transferred my saddleto a team horse that appeared to be given to a sort of equinesomnambulism, and once or twice attempted to lie down by the roadside. At nine o'clock I set out with Fogg, who slipped a flask of spirits intomy haversack. Following the tardy movement of the teams, we turned ourfaces toward Washington. I was soon wet to the skin, and my saddlecushion was soaking with water. The streams crossing the road wereswollen with rain, and the great team wheels clogged on the slimy banks. We were sometimes delayed a half hour by a single wagon, the stormbeating pitilessly in our faces the while. During the stoppages, theQuartermaster's guards burned all the fence rails in the vicinity, andsome of the more indurated sat round the fagots and gamed with cards. 

Cold, taciturn, miserable, I thought of the quiet farm, house, the ruddyhearth-place, and the smoking supper. I wondered if the roguish eyeswere not a little sad, and the trim feet a little restless, the chessmensomewhat stupid, and the good old house a trifle lonesome. Alas! theintimacy so pleasantly commenced, was never to be renewed. With thethousand and one airy palaces that youth builds and time annihilates, myfirst romance of war towered to the stars in a day, and crumbled toearth in a night. 

At two o'clock in the morning we halted at Metropolitan Mills, on theAlexandria and Leesburg turnpike. A bridge had been destroyed below, andthe creek was so swollen that neither artillery nor cavalry could fordit. The meadows were submerged and the rain still descended in torrents. The chilled troops made bonfires of some new panel fence, and stormedall the henroosts in the vicinity. Some pigs, that betrayed theirwhereabouts by inoportune whines and grunts, were speedily confiscated, slaughtered, and spitted. We erected our tarpaulin in a ploughed field, and Fogg laid some sharp rails upon the ground to make us a dry bed. Skyhiski fried a quantity of fresh beef, and boiled some coffee; butwhile we ate heartily, theorizing as to the destination of the corps, the poor Captain was terribly shaken by his ague. 

I woke in the morning with inflamed throat, rheumatic limbs, and everyindication of chills and fever. Fogg whispered to me at breakfast thattwo men of Reynold's brigade had died during the night, from fatigue andexposure. He advised me to push forward to Washington and await thearrival of the division, as, unused to the hardships of a march, Imight, after another day's experience, become dangerously ill. I setout at five o'clock, resolving to ford the creek, resume the turnpike, and reach Long Bridge at noon. Passing over some dozen fields in whichmy horse at every step sank to the fetlocks, I travelled along the brinkof the stream till I finally reached a place that seemed to be shallow. Bracing myself firmly in the saddle, I urged my unwilling horse into thewaters, and emerged half drowned on the other side. It happened, however, that I had crossed only a branch of the creek and gained anisland. The main channel was yet to be attempted, and I saw that it wasdeep, broad, and violent. I followed the margin despairingly for ahalf-mile, when I came to a log footbridge, where I dismounted and swammy horse through the turbulent waters. I had now so far diverged fromthe turnpike that I was at a loss to recover it, but straying forlornlythrough the woods, struck a wagon track at last, and pursued ithopefully, until, to my confusion, it resolved itself to two tracks, that went in contrary directions. My horse preferred taking to the left, but after riding a full hour, I came to some felled trees, beyond whichthe traces did not go. Returning, weak and bewildered, I adopted thediscarded route, which led me to a worm-fence at the edge of the woods. A house lay some distance off, but a wheat-field intervened, and I mightbring the vengeance of the proprietor upon me by invading his domain. There was no choice, however; so I removed the rails, and rode directlyacross the wheat to some negro quarters, a little removed from themansion. They were deserted, all save one, where a black boy was singingsome negro hymns in an uproarious manner. The words, as I made them out, were these:--

 "Stephen came a runnin', His Marster fur to see; But Gabriel says he is not yar'; He gone to Calvary! O, --O, --Stephen, Stephen, Fur to see; Stephen, Stephen, get along up Calvary!"

I learned from this person two mortifying facts, --that I was fartherfrom Washington than at the beginning of my journey, and that the morrowwas Sunday. War, alas! knows no Sabbaths, and the negro said, apologetically--

"I was a seyin' some ole hymns, young Mars'r. Sence dis yer war we don'thave no more meetin's, and a body mos' forgits his pra'rs. Dere hain'tbeen no church in all Fairfax, sah, fur nigh six months. "

Washington was nineteen miles distant, and another creek was to beforded before gaining the turnpike. The negro sauntered down the lane, and opened the gate for me. "You jes keep from de creek, take de millroad, and enqua' as ye get furder up, " said he; "it's mighty easy, sah, an' you can't miss de way. "

I missed the way at once, however, by confounding the mill road with themill lane, and a shaggy dog that lay in a wagon shed pursued me about amile. The road was full of mire; no dwellings adjoined it, and nothinghuman was to be seen in any direction. I came to a crumbling negro cabinafter two plodding hours, and, seeing a figure flit by the window, called aloud for information. Nobody replied, and when, dismounting, Ilooked into the den, it was, to my confusion, vacant. 

The soil, hereabout, was of a sterile red clay, spotted with scrubcedars. Country more bleak and desolate I have never known, and when, atnoon, the rain ceased, a keen wind blew dismally across the barriers. Ireached a turnpike at length, and, turning, as I thought, towardAlexandria, goaded my horse into a canter. An hour's ride brought me toa wretched hamlet, whose designation I inquired of a cadaverous oldwoman--

"Drainesville, " said she. 

"Then I am not upon the Alexandria turnpike?"

"No. You're sot for Leesburg. This is the Georgetown and Chain Bridgeroad. "

With a heavy heart, I retraced my steps, crossed Chain Bridge at fiveo'clock, and halted at Kirkwood's at seven. After dinner, falling inwith the manager of the Washington Sunday morning _Chronicle_, I penned, at his request, a few lines relative to the movements of the Reserves;and, learning in the morning that they had arrived at Alexandria, setout on horseback for that city. 

Many hamlets and towns have been destroyed during the war. But, of allthat in some form survive, Alexandria has most suffered. It has been inthe uninterrupted possession of the Federals for twenty-two months, andhas become essentially a military city. Its streets, its docks, itswarehouses, its dwellings, and its suburbs, have been absorbed to thethousand uses of war. 

I was challenged thrice on the Long Bridge, and five times on the road, before reaching the city. I rode under the shadows of five earthworks, and saw lines of white tents sweeping to the horizon. Gayly caparisonedofficers passed me, to spend their Sabbath in Washington, and trainsladen with troops, ambulances, and batteries, sped along the line ofrailway, toward the rendezvous at Alexandria. A wagoner, lookingforlornly at his splintered wheels; a slovenly guard, watching somebales of hay; a sombre negro, dozing upon his mule; a slatternly Irishwoman gossiping with a sergeant at her cottage door; a sutler in his"dear-born, " running his keen eye down the limbs of my beast; a sprucecivilian riding for curiosity; a gray-haired gentleman, in a threadbaresuit, going to camp on foot, to say good by to his boy, --these were someof the personages that I remarked, and each was a study, a sermon, and astory. The Potomac, below me, was dotted with steamers and shipping. Thebluffs above were trodden bare, and a line of dismal marsh bordered somestagnant pools that blistered at their bases. At points along theriver-shore, troops were embarking on board steamers; transports weretaking in tons of baggage and subsistence. There was a schooner, ladento the water-line with locomotive engines and burden carriages; there, a brig, shipping artillery horses by a steam derrick, that lifted thembodily from the shore and deposited them in the hold of the vessel. Steamers, from whose spacious saloons the tourist and the bride havewatched the picturesque margin of the Hudson, were now black withclusters of rollicking volunteers, who climbed into the yards, andpitched headlong from the wheel-houses. The "grand movement, " for whichthe people had waited so long, and which McClellan had promised sooften, was at length to be made. The Army of the Potomac was to betransferred to Fortress Monroe, at the foot of the Chesapeake, and toadvance by the peninsula of the James and the York, upon the city ofRichmond. 

I rode through Washington Street, the seat of some ancient residences, and found it lined with freshly arrived troops. The grave-slabs in afine old churchyard were strewn with weary cavalry-men, and they lay insome side yards, soundly sleeping. Some artillery-men chatted atdoorsteps, with idle house-girls; some courtesans flaunted in furs andostrich feathers, through a group of coarse engineers; some sergeants ofartillery, in red trimmings, and caps gilded with cannon, were reiningtheir horses to leer at some ladies, who were taking the air in theirgardens; and at a wide place in the street, a Provost-Major wasmanoeuvring some companies, to the sound of the drum and fife. Therewas much drunkenness, among both soldiers and civilians; and the peopleof Alexandria were, in many cases, crushed and demoralized by reason oftheir troubles. One man of this sort led me to a sawmill, now run byGovernment, and pointed to the implements. 

"I bought 'em and earned 'em, " he said. "My labor and enterprise set 'emthere; and while my mill and machinery are ruined to fill the pockets o'Federal sharpers, I go drunk, ragged, and poor about the streets o' mynative town. My daughter starves in Richmond; God knows I can't get toher. I wish to h----l I was dead. "

Further inquiry developed the facts that my acquaintance had been athriving builder, who had dotted all Northeastern Virginia withevidences of his handicraft. At the commencement of the war, he tookcertain contracts from the Confederate government, for the constructionof barracks at Richmond and Manassas Junction; returning inopportunelyto Alexandria, he was arrested, and kept some time in Capitol-Hillprison; he had not taken the oath of allegiance, consequently, he couldobtain no recompense for the loss of his mill property. Domesticmisfortunes, happening at the same time, so embittered his days that heresorted to dissipation. Alexandria is filled with like ruined people;they walk as strangers through their ancient streets, and their propertyis no longer theirs to possess, but has passed into the hands of thedominant nationalists. My informant pointed out the residences of manyleading citizens: some were now hospitals, others armories and arsenals;others offices for inspectors, superintendents, and civil officials. Thefew people that remained upon their properties, obtained partialimmunity, by courting the acquaintance of Federal officers, and, in manycases, extending the hospitalities of their homes to the invaders. I donot know that any Federal functionary was accused of tyranny, orwantonness, but these things ensued, as the natural results of civilwar; and one's sympathies were everywhere enlisted for the poor, theexiled, and the bereaved. 

My dinner at the City Hotel was scant and badly prepared. I gave a negrolad who waited upon me a few cents, but a burly negro carver, who seemedto be his father, boxed the boy's ears and put the coppers into hispocket. The proprietor of the place had voluntarily taken the oath ofallegiance, and had made more money since the date of Federal occupationthan during his whole life previously. He said to me, curtly, that if byany chance the Confederates should reoccupy Alexandria, he could verywell afford to relinquish his property. He employed a smart barkeeper, who led guests by a retired way to the drinking-rooms. Here, with thegas burning at a taper point, cobblers, cocktails, and juleps were mixedstealthily and swallowed in the darkness. The bar was like a mint to theproprietor; he only feared discovery and prohibition. It would notaccord with the chaste pages of this narrative to tell how some of thenoblest residences in Alexandria had been desecrated to licentiouspurposes; nor how, by night, the parlors of cosey homes flamed with riotand orgie. I stayed but a little time, having written an indiscreetparagraph in the Washington Chronicle, for which I was pursued by theWar Department, and the management of my paper, lacking heart, I wenthome in a pet. 

CHAPTER VI. 

DOWN THE CHESAPEAKE. 

Disappointed in the unlucky termination of my adventures afield, I nowlooked ambitiously toward New York. As London stands to the provinces, so stands the empire city to America. Its journals circulate by hundredsof thousands; its means are only rivalled by its enterprise; it is theend of every young American's aspiration, and the New Bohemia for therestless, the brilliant, and the industrious. It seemed a great way offwhen I first beheld it, but I did not therefore despair. Small mattersof news that I gathered in my modest city, obtained space in the columnsof the great metropolitan journal, the----. After a time I was delegatedto travel in search of special incidents, and finally, when the notedTennessee Unionist, "Parson" Brownlow, journeyed eastward, I joined his_suite_, and accompanied him to New York. The dream of many months nowcame to be realized. A correspondent on the ----'s staff had beenderelict, and I was appointed to his division. His horse, saddle, field-glasses, blankets, and pistols were to be transferred, and I wasto proceed without delay to Fortress Monroe, to keep with the advancingcolumns of McClellan. 

At six in the morning I embarked; at eleven I was whirled through my owncity, without a glimpse of my friends; at three o'clock I dismounted atBaltimore, and at five was gliding down the Patapsco, under the shadowsof Fort Federal Hill, and the white walls of Fort McHenry. The latterdefence is renowned for its gallant resistance to a British fleet in1813, and the American national anthem, "The Star-Spangled Banner, " waswritten to commemorate that bombardment. Fort Carroll, a massivestructure of hewn stone, with arched bomb-proof and three tiers ofmounted ordnance, its smooth walls washed by the waves, and itsunfinished floors still ringing with the trowel and the adze, --lies somemiles below, at a narrow passage in the stream. Below, the shoresdiverge, and at dusk we were fairly in the Chesapeake, under steam andsail, speeding due southward. 

The _Adelaide_ was one of a series of boats making daily trips betweenBaltimore and Old Point. Fourteen hours were required to accomplish thepassage, and we were not to arrive till seven o'clock next morning. Iwas so fortunate as to obtain a state-room, but many passengers wereobliged to sleep upon sofas or the cabin floor. These boats monopolizedthe civil traffic between the North and the army, although they werereputed to be owned and managed by Secessionists. None were allowed toembark unless provided with Federal passes; but there were, nevertheless, three or four hundred people on board. About one fourth ofthese were officers and soldiers; one half sutlers, traders, contractors, newsmen, and idle civilians, anxious to witness a battle, or stroll over the fields of Big Bethel, Lee's Mills, Yorktown, Gloucester, Williamsburg, or West Point; the rest were females onmissions of mercy, on visits to sons, brothers, and husbands, and on theway to their homes at Norfolk, Suffolk, or Hampton. Some of these werecitizens of Richmond, who believed that the Federals would occupy thecity in a few days, and enable them to resume their professions andhomes. The lower decks were occupied by negroes. The boat was heavilyfreighted, and among the parcels that littered the hold and steerage, Inoticed scores of box coffins for the removal of corpses from the fieldto the North. There were quantities of spirits, consigned mainly toQuartermasters, but evidently the property of certain Shylocks, whowatched the barrels greedily. An embalmer was also on board, with hisghostly implements. He was a sallow man, shabbily attired, and appearedto look at all the passengers as so many subjects for the development ofhis art. He was called "Doctor" by his admirers, and conversed in theblandest manner of the triumphs of his system. 

"There are certain pretenders, " he said, "who are at this momentimposing upon the Government. I regret that it is necessary to repeatit, but the fact exists that the Government is the prey of harpies. Andin the art of which I am an humble disciple, --that of injecting, commonly called embalming, --the frauds are most deplorable. There wasMajor Montague, --a splendid subject, I assure you, --a subject that any_Professor_ would have beautifully preserved, --a subject that oneesteems it a favor to obtain, --a subject that I in particular would havebeen proud to receive! But what were the circumstances? I do assure youthat a person named Wigwart, --who I have since ascertained to be aveterinary butcher; in plain language, a doctor of horses andasses, --imposed upon the relatives of the deceased, obtained the body, and absolutely ruined it!--absolutely _mangled_ it! I may say, shamefully disfigured it! He was a man, sir, six feet two, --about yourheight, I think! (to a bystander. ) About your weight, also! Indeed quitelike you! And allow me to say that, if you should fall into my hands, Iwould leave your friends no cause for offence! (Here the bystandertrembled perceptibly, and I thought that the doctor was about to takehis life. ) Well! _I_ should have operated thus:--"

Then followed a description of the process, narrated with horriblecircumstantiality. A fluid holding in solution pounded glass and certainchemicals, was, by the doctor's "system, " injected into thebloodvessels, and the subject at the same time bled at the neck. Thebody thus became hard and stony, and would retain its form for years. Hehad, by his account, experimented for a lifetime, and said that little"Willie, " the son of President Lincoln, had been so preserved that hisfond parents must have enjoyed his decease. 

It seemed to me that the late lamented practitioners, Messrs. Burke andHare, were likely to fade into insignificance, beside this new light ofscience. 

I went upon deck for some moments, and marked the beating of the waves;the glitter of sea-lights pulsing on the ripples; the sweep of belatedgulls through the creaking rigging; the dark hull of a passing vesselwith a grinning topmast lantern; the vigilant pilot, whose eyes glaredlike a fiend's upon the waste of blackness; the foam that the pantingscrew threw against the cabin windows; the flap of fishes caught in thethreads of moonlight; the depths over which one bent, peering halfwistfully, half abstractedly, almost crazily, till he longed to dropinto their coolness, and let the volumes of billow roll musically abovehim. 

A woman approached me, as I stood against the great anchor, thusabsorbed. She had a pale, thin face, and was scantily clothed, and spokewith a distrustful, timorous voice:--

"You don't know the name of the surgeon-general, do you sir!"

"At Washington, ma'am?"

"No, sir; at Old Point. "

I offered to inquire of the Captain: but she stopped me, agitatedly. "It's of no consequence, " she said, --"that is, it is of greatconsequence to me; but perhaps it would be best to wait. " I answered, asobligingly as I could, that any service on my part would be cheerfullyrendered. 

"The fact is, sir, " she said, after a pause, "I am going toWilliamsburg, to--find--the--the body--of my--boy. "

Here her speech was broken, and she put a thin, white hand tremulouslyto her eyes. I thought that any person in the Federal service wouldwillingly assist her, and said so. 

"He was not a Federal soldier, sir. He was a Confederate!"

This considerably altered the chances of success, and I was obliged toundeceive her somewhat. "I am sure it was not my fault, " she continued, "that he joined the Rebellion. You don't think they'll refuse to let metake his bones to Baltimore, do you, sir? He was my oldest boy, and hisbrother, my second son, was killed at Ball's Bluff: _He_ was in theFederal service. I hardly think they will refuse me the poor favor oflaying them in the same grave. "

I spoke of the difficulty of recognition, of the remoteness of thefield, and of the expense attending the recovery of any remains, particularly those of the enemy, that, left hastily behind in retreat, were commonly buried in trenches without headboard or record. She said, sadly, that she had very little money, and that she could barely affordthe journey to the Fortress and return. But she esteemed her means wellinvested if her object could be attained. 

"They were both brave boys, sir; but I could never get them to agreepolitically. William was a Northerner by education, and took up with theNew England views, and James was in business at Richmond when the warcommenced. So he joined the Southern army. It's a sad thing to know thatone's children died enemies, isn't it? And what troubles me more thanall, sir, is that James was at Ball's Bluff where his brother fell. Itmakes me shudder to think, sometimes, that his might have been the ballthat killed him. "

The tremor of the poor creature here was painful to behold. I spokesoothingly and encouragingly, but with a presentiment that she must bedisappointed. While I was speaking the supper-bell rang, and I proposedto get her a seat at the table. 

"No, thank you, " she replied, "I shall take no meals on the vessel; Imust travel economically, and have prepared some lunch that will serveme. Good by, sir!"

Poor mothers looking for dead sons! God help them! I have met them oftensince; but the figure of that pale, frail creature flitting about theopen deck, --alone, hungry, very poor, --troubles me still, as I write. Ifound, afterward, that she had denied herself a state-room, and intendedto sleep in a saloon chair. I persuaded her to accept my berth, but aGerman, who occupied the same apartment, was unwilling to relinquish hisbed, and I had the power only to give her my pillow. 

Supper was spread in the forecabin, and at the signal to assemble themen rushed to the tables like as many beasts of prey. A captain oppositeme bolted a whole mackerel in a twinkling, and spread the half-pound ofbutter that was to serve the entire vicinity upon a single slice ofbread. A sutler beside me reached his fork across my neck, and plucked ayoung chicken bodily, which he ate, to the great disgust of some otherswho were eyeing it. The waiter advanced with some steak, but before hereached the table, a couple of Zouaves dragged it from the tray, andlaughed brutally at their success. The motion of the vessel caused ageneral unsteadiness, and it was absolutely dangerous to move one'scoffee to his lips. The inveterate hate with which corporations areregarded in America was here evidenced by a general desire to empty theship's larder. 

"Eat all you can, " said a soldier, ferociously, --"fare's amazin' high. Must make it out in grub. "

"I always gorges, " said another, "on a railroad or a steamboat. Causewhy? You must eat out your passage, you know!"

Among the passengers were a young officer and his bride. They had beenmarried only a few days, and she had obtained permission to accompanyhim to Old Point. Very pretty, she seemed, in her travelling hat andflowing robes; and he wore a handsome new uniform with prodigiousshoulder-bars. There was a piano in the saloon, where another young ladyof the party performed during the evening, and the bride and groomaccompanied her with a song. It was the popular Federal parody of "Gayand Happy:"

 "Then let the South fling aloft what it will, -- We are for the Union still! For the Union! For the Union! We are for the Union still!"

The bride and groom sang alternate stanzas, and the concourse ofsoldiers, civilians, and females swelled the chorus. The reserve beingthus broken, the young officer sang the "Star-Spangled Banner, " and therefrain must have called up the mermaids. Dancing ensued, and a soldiervolunteered a hornpipe. A young man with an astonishing compass of lungsrepeated something from Shakespeare, and the night passed by gleefullyand reputably. One could hardly realize, in the cheerful eyes and activefigures of the dance, the sad uncertainties of the time. Youth tripslightest, somehow, on the brink of the grave. 

The hilarities of the evening so influenced the German quartered withme, that he sang snatches of foreign ballads during most of the night, and obliged me, at last, to call the steward and insist upon his goodbehavior. 

In the gray of the morning I ventured on deck, and, following thesilvery line of beach, made out the shipping at anchor in Hampton Roads. The _Minnesota_ flag-ship lay across the horizon, and after a time Iremarked the low walls and black derricks of the Rip Raps. The whitetents at Hampton were then revealed, and finally I distinguishedFortress Monroe, the key of the Chesapeake, bristling with guns, andfloating the Federal flag. As we rounded to off the quay, I studied withintense interest the scene of so many historic events. Sewall's Pointlay to the south, a stretch of woody beach, around whose western tipthe dreaded _Merrimac_ had so often moved slowly to the encounter. Thespars of the _Congress_ and the _Cumberland_ still floated along thestrand, but, like them, the invulnerable monster had become the prey ofthe waves. The guns of the Rip Raps and the terrible broadsides of theFederal gunboats, had swept the Confederates from Sewall's Point, --theirflag and battery were gone, --and farther seaward, at Willoughby Spit, some figures upon the beach marked the route of the victorious Federalsto the city of Norfolk. 

The mouth of the James and the York were visible from the deck, and longlines of shipping stretched from each to the Fortress. The quay itselfwas like the pool in the Thames, a mass of spars, smoke-stacks, ensignsand swelling hills. The low deck and quaint cupola of the famous_Monitor_ appeared close into shore, and near at hand rose the thickbody of the _Galena_. Long boats and flat boats went hither and thitheracross the blue waves: the grim ports of the men of war were open andthe guns frowned darkly from their coverts; the seamen were gatheringfor muster on the flagship, and drums beat from the barracks on shore;the Lincoln gun, a fearful piece of ordnance, rose like the Sphynx fromthe Fortress sands, and the sodded parapet, the winding stone walls, thetops of the brick quarters within the Fort, were some of the features ofa strangely animated scene, that has yet to be perpetuated upon canvas, and made historic. 

At eight o'clock the passengers were allowed to land, and a provostguard marched them to the Hygeia House, --of old a watering-placehotel, --where, by groups, they were ushered into a small room, and theoath of allegiance administered to them. The young officer whoofficiated, repeated the words of the oath, with a broad grin upon hisface, and the passengers were required to assent by word and by gesture. Among those who took the oath in this way, was a very old sailor, whohad been in the Federal service for the better part of his life, andwhose five sons were now in the army. He called "Amen" very loudly andfervently, and there was some perceptible disposition on the part ofother ardent patriots, to celebrate the occasion with three cheers. Thequartermaster, stationed at the Fortress gave me a pass to go by steamerup the York to White House, and as there were three hours to elapsebefore departure, I strolled about the place with our agent. In times ofpeace, Old Point was simply a stone fortification, and one of thestrongest of its kind in the world. Many years and many millions ofdollars were required to build it, but it was, in general, feeblygarrisoned, and was, altogether, a stupid, tedious locality, except inthe bathing months, when the beauty and fashion of Virginia resorted toits hotel. A few cottages had grown up around it, tenanted only in "theseason;" and a little way off, on the mainland, stood the pretty villageof Hampton. 

By a strange oversight, the South failed to seize Fortress Monroe at thebeginning of the Rebellion; the Federals soon made it the basis fortheir armies and a leading naval station. The battle of Big Bethel wasone of the first occurrences in the vicinity. Then the dwellings ofHampton were burned and its people exiled. In rapid succession followedthe naval battles in the Roads, the siege and surrender of Yorktown, theflight of the Confederates up the Peninsula to Richmond, and finally thebattles of Williamsburg, and West Point, and the capture of Norfolk. These things had already transpired; it was now the month of May; andthe victorious army, following up its vantages, had pursued thefugitives by land and water to "White House, " at the head of navigationon the Pamunkey river. Thither it was my lot to go, and witness theturning-point of their fortunes, and their subsequent calamity andrepulse. 

I found Old Point a weary place of resort, even in the busy era of civilwar. The bar at the Hygeia House was beset with thirsty and idlepeople, who swore instinctively, and drank raw spirits passionately. Thequantity of shell, ball, ordnance, camp equipage, and war munitions ofevery description piled around the fort, was marvellously great. Itseemed to me that Xerxes, the first Napoleon, or the greediest ofconquerors, ancient or modern, would have beheld with amazement thegigantic preparations at command of the Federal Government. Energy andenterprise displayed their implements of death on every hand. One wasstartled at the prodigal outlay of means, and the reckless summoning ofmen. I looked at the starred and striped ensign that flaunted above theFort, and thought of Madame Roland's appeal to the statue by theguillotine. 

The settlers were numbered by regiments here. Their places of businesswere mainly structures or "shanties" of rough plank, and most of themwere the owners of sloops, or schooners, for the transportation offreight from New York, Philadelphia, or Baltimore, to their depots atOld Point. Some possessed a dozen wagons, that plied regularly betweenthese stores and camps. The traffic was not confined to men; for womenand children kept pace with the army, trading in every possible articleof necessity or luxury. For these--disciples of the dime and thedollar--war had no terrors. They took their muck-rakes, like the man inBunyan, and gathered the almighty coppers, from the pestilential campand the reeking battle-field. 

CHAPTER VII. 

ON TO RICHMOND. 

Yorktown lies twenty-one miles northwestward from Old Point, and thitherI turned my face at noon, resolving to delay my journey to "WhiteHouse, " till next day morning. Crossing an estuary of the bay upon anarrow causeway, I passed Hampton, --half burned, half desolate, --and atthree o'clock came to "Big Bethel, " the scene of the battle of June 11, 1861. A small earthwork marks the site of Magruder's field-pieces, andhard by the slain were buried. The spot was noteworthy to me, sinceLieutenant Greble, a fellow alumnus, had perished here, and likewise, Theodore Winthrop, the gifted author of "Cecil Dreeme" and "John Brent. "The latter did not live to know his exaltation. That morning never camewhereon he "woke, and found himself famous. "

The road ran parallel with the deserted defences of the Confederates forsome distance. The country was flat and full of swamps, but marked atintervals by relics of camps. The farm-houses were untenanted, thefences laid flat or destroyed, the fields strewn with discardedclothing, arms, and utensils. By and by, we entered the outer line ofFederal parallels, and wound among lunettes, crémaillères, redoubts, andrifle-pits. Marks of shell and ball were frequent, in furrows and holes, where the clay had been upheaved. Every foot of ground, for fifteenmiles henceforward, had been touched by the shovel and the pick. Mycompanion suggested that as much digging, concentred upon one point, would have taken the Federals to China. The sappers and miners had madetheir stealthy trenches, rod by rod, each morning appearing closer totheir adversaries, and finally, completed their work, at less than ahundred yards from the Confederate defences. Three minutes would havesufficed from the final position, to hurl columns upon the opposingoutworks, and sweep them with the bayonet. Ten days only had elapsedsince the evacuation (May 4), and the siege guns still remained in someof the batteries. McClellan worshipped great ordnance, and some of hiscolumbiads, that were mounted in the water battery, yawned cavernouslythrough their embrasures, and might have furnished sleepingaccommodations to the gunners. A few mortars stood in position by theriver side, and there were Parrott, Griffin, and Dahlgren pieces in theshore batteries. 

However numerous and powerful were the Federal fortifications, they boreno comparison, in either respect, to those relinquished by therevolutionists. Miniature mountain ranges they seemed, deeply ditched, and revetted with sods, fascines, hurdles, gabions or sand bags. Alongthe York riverside there were water batteries of surpassing beauty, thatseemed, at a little distance, successions of gentle terraces. Theirpieces were likewise of enormous calibre, and their number almostincredible. The advanced line of fortifications, sketched from the mouthof Warwick creek, on the South, to a point fifteen miles distant on theYork: one hundred and forty guns were planted along this chain ofdefences; but there were two other concentric lines, mounting, each, onehundred and twenty, and two hundred and forty guns. The remote seriesconsisted of six forts of massive size and height, fronted by swamps andflooded meadows, with frequent creeks and ravines interposing; sharp_fraise_ and _abattis_ planted against scarp and slope, pointed cruellyeastward. There were two water batteries, of six and four thirty-twocolumbiads respectively, and the town itself, which stands upon a redclay bluff, was encircled by a series of immense rifled and smooth-borepieces, including a powerful pivot-gun, that one of McClellan's shellsstruck during the first day's bombardment, and split it into fragments. At Gloucester Point, across the York river, the great guns of the_Merrimac_ were planted, it is said, and a fleet of fire-rafts andtorpedo-ships were moored in the stream. By all accounts, there couldhave been no less than five hundred guns behind the Confederateentrenchments, the greater portion, of course, field-pieces, and, as thedefending army was composed of one hundred thousand men, we must addthat number of small arms to the list of ordnance. If we compute theFederals at so high a figure, --and they could scarcely have had lessthan a hundred thousand men afield, --we must increase the enormousamount of their field, siege, and small ordnance, by the naval guns ofthe fleet, that stood anchored in the bay. It is probable that athousand cannon and two hundred thousand muskets were assembled in andaround Yorktown during this memorable siege. The mind shudders to seethe terrible deductions of these statistics. The monster, who wishedthat the world had but one neck, that he might sever it, would havegloated at such realization! How many days or hours would have heresufficed to annihilate all the races of men? Happily, the world wasspared the spectacle of these deadly mouths at once aflame. Beautifulbut awful must have been the scene, and the earth must have staggeredwith the shock. One might almost have imagined that man, in hisambition, had shut his God in heaven, and besieged him there. 

While the fortifications defending it amazed me, the village of Yorktowndisappointed me. I marvelled that so paltry a settlement should havebeen twice made historic. Here, in the year 1783, Lord Cornwallissurrendered his starving command to the American colonists and theirFrench allies. But the entrenchments of that earlier day had beenalmost obliterated by these recent labors. The field, where the Earldelivered up his sword, was trodden bare, and dotted with ditches andramparts; while a small monument, that marked the event, had been hackedto fragments by the Southerners, and carried away piecemeal. Yet, strange to say, relics of the first bombardment had just beendiscovered, and, among them, a gold-hilted sword. 

I visited, in the evening, the late quarters of General Hill, a smallwhite house with green shutters, and also the famous "Nelson House, " aroomy mansion where, of old, Cornwallis slept, and where, a few dayspast, Jefferson Davis and General Lee had held with Magruder, and hisassociates, a council of war. It had been also used for hospitalpurposes, but some negroes were now the only occupants. 

The Confederates left behind them seventy spiked and shattered cannon, some powder, and a few splintered wagons; but in all material respects, their evacuation was thorough and creditable. Some deserters took thefirst tidings of the retreat to the astonished Federals, and they raisedthe national flag within the fortifications, in the gray of the morningof the 4th of May. Many negroes also escaped the vigilance of theirtaskmasters, and remained to welcome the victors. The fine works ofYorktown are monuments to negro labor, for _they_ were the hewers andthe diggers. Every slave-owner in Eastern Virginia was obliged to sendone half of his male servants between the ages of sixteen and fifty tothe Confederate camps, and they were organized into gangs and set towork. In some cases they were put to military service and made excellentsharpshooters. The last gun discharged from the town was said to havebeen fired by a negro. 

I slept on board a barge at the wharf that evening, and my dreams ranupon a thousand themes. To every American this was hallowed ground. Ithad been celebrated by the pencil of Trumbull, the pen of Franklin, andthe eloquence of Jefferson. Scarce eighty years had elapsed since thosegreat minds established a fraternal government; but the site of theircrowning glory was now the scene of their children's shame. Discord hadstolen upon their councils and blood had profaned their shrine. 

I visited next day a bomb-proof postern, or subterranean passage, connecting the citadel with the outworks, and loitered about thefortifications till noon, when I took passage on the mail steamer, whichleft the Fortress at eleven o'clock, and reached White House at dusk thesame evening. The whole river as I ascended was filled with merchant andnaval craft. They made a continuous line from Old Point to the mouth ofYork River, and the masts and spars environing Yorktown and Gloucester, reminded one of a scene on the Mersey or the Clyde. At West Point, therewas an array of shipping scarcely less formidable, and the windings ofthe interminably crooked Pamunkey were marked for leagues by sails, smoke-stacks, and masts. The landings and wharves were besieged byflat-boats and sloops, and Zouaves were hoisting forage and commissarystores up the red bluffs at every turn of our vessel. 

The Pamunkey was a beautiful stream, densely wooded, and occasionalvistas opened up along its borders of wheat-fields and meadows, withVirginia farm-houses and negro quarters on the hilltops. Some of thehouses on the river banks appeared to be tenanted by white people, butthe majority had a haunted, desolate appearance, the only signs of lifebeing strolling soldiers, who thrust their legs through the second storywindows, or contemplated the river from the chimney-tops, and groups ofnegroes who sunned themselves on the piazza, or rushed to the margin togaze and grin at the passing steamers. There were occasional residencesnot unworthy of old manorial and baronial times, and these were attendedat a little distance by negro quarters of logs, arranged in rows, andprovided with mud chimneys built against their gables. Few of theNorthern navigable rivers were so picturesque and varied. 

We passed two Confederate gunboats, that had been half completed, andburned on the stocks. Their charred elbows and ribs, stared out, likethe remains of some extinct monsters; a little delay might have foundeach of them armed and manned, and carrying havoc upon the rivers andthe seas. West Point was simply a tongue, or spit of land, dividing theMattapony from the Pamunkey river at their junction; a few houses werebuilt upon the shallow, and some wharves, half demolished, marked theterminus of the York and Richmond railroad. A paltry water-battery wasthe sole defence. Below Cumberland (a collection of huts and a wharf), anumber of schooners had been sunk across the river, and, with the aid ofan island in the middle, these constituted a rather rigid blockade. Thesteamboat passed through, steering carefully, but some sailing vesselsthat followed required to be towed between the narrow apertures. Thetops only of the sunken masts could be discerned above the surface, andmuch time and labor must have been required to place the boats in lineand sink them. Vessels were counted by scores above and below thisblockade, and at Cumberland the masts were like a forest; clusters ofpontoons were here anchored in the river, and a short distance below wefound three of the light-draught Federal gunboats moored in the stream. It was growing dark as we rounded to at "White House;" the camp fires ofthe grand army lit up the sky, and edged the tree-boughs on the marginwith ribands of silver. Some drums beat in the distance; sentries pacedthe strand; the hum of men, and the lowing of commissary cattle, wereborne towards us confusedly; soldiers were bathing in the river;team-horses were drinking at the brink; a throng of motley people werecrowding about the landing to receive the papers and mails. I had atlast arrived at the seat of war, and my ambition to chronicle battlesand bloodshed was about to be gratified. 

At first, I was troubled to make my way; the tents had just beenpitched; none knew the location of divisions other than their own, andit was now so dark that I did not care to venture far. After a vainattempt to find some flat-boats where there were lodgings and meals tobe had, I struck out for general head-quarters, and, undergoing repeatedsnubbings from pert members of staff, fell in at length, with a verytall, spare, and angular young officer, who spoke broken English, andwho heard my inquiries, courteously; he stepped into General Marcy'stent, but the Chief of Staff did not know the direction of Smith'sdivision; he then repaired to Gen. Van Vleet, the chief Quartermaster, but with ill success. A party of officers were smoking under a "fly, "and some of these called to him, thus--

"Captain! Duke! De Chartres! What do you wish?"

It was, then, the Orleans Prince who had befriended me, and I had thegood fortune to hear that the division, of which I was in search, lay ahalf mile up the river. I never spoke to the Bourbon afterward, but sawhim often; and that he was as chivalrous as he was kind, all testimonyproved. 

A private escorted me to a Captain Mott's tent, and this officerintroduced me to General Hancock. I was at once invited to mess with theGeneral's staff, and in the course of an hour felt perfectly at home. Hancock was one of the handsomest officers in the army; he had served inthe Mexican war, and was subsequently a Captain in the Quartermaster'sdepartment. But the Rebellion placed stars in many shoulder-bars, andfew were more worthily designated than this young Pennsylvanian. Hisfirst laurels were gained at Williamsburg; but the story of a celebratedcharge that won him the day's applause, and McClellan's encomium of the"Superb Hancock, " was altogether fictitious. The musket, not thebayonet, gave him the victory. I may doubt, in this place, that anyextensive bayonet charge has been known during the war. Some have goneso far as to deny that the bayonet has ever been used at all. 

Hancock's regiments were the 5th Wisconsin, 49th Pennsylvanian, 43d NewYork, and 6th Maine. They represented widely different characteristics, and I esteemed myself fortunate to obtain a position where I could soeligibly study men, habits, and warfare. During the evening I fell inwith the Colonel of each of these regiments, and from the conversationthat ensued, I gleaned a fair idea of them all. 

The Wisconsin regiment was from a new and ambitious State of theNorthwest. The men were rough-mannered, great-hearted farmers, wood-choppers, and tradesmen. They had all the impulsiveness of theYankee, with less selfishness, and quite as much bravery. The Colonelwas named Cobb, and he had held some leading offices in Wisconsin. Apart of his life had been adventurously spent, and he had participatedin the Mexican war. He was an ardent Republican in politics, and hadbeen Speaker of a branch of the State Legislature. He was an attorney ina small county town when the war commenced, and his name had beenbroached for the Governorship. In person he was small, lithe, andcapable of enduring great fatigue. His hair was a little gray, and hehad no beard. He did not respect appearances, and his sword, as I saw, was antique and quite different in shape from the regulation weapon. Hehad penetrating gray eyes, and his manners were generally reserved. Onehad not to regard him twice to see that he was both cautious andresolute. He was too ambitious to be frank, and too passionate not to bebrave. In the formula of learning he was not always correct; but fewwere of quicker perception or more practical and philosophic. He mightnot, in an emergency, be nicely scrupulous as to means, but he neverwavered in respect to objects. His will was the written law to hisregiment, and I believed his executive abilities superior to those ofany officer in the brigade, not excepting the General's. 

The New York regiment was commanded by a young officer named Vinton. Hewas not more than thirty-five years of age, and was a graduate of theUnited States Military Academy. Passionately devoted to engineering, hewithdrew from the army, and passed five years in Paris, at the study ofhis art. Returning homeward by way of the West Indies, he visitedHonduras, and projected a filibustering expedition to its shores fromthe States. While perfecting the design, the Rebellion commenced, andhis old patron, General Scott, secured him the colonelcy of a volunteerregiment. He still cherished his scheme of "Colonization, " and half ofhis men were promised to accompany him. Personally, Colonel Vinton wasstraight, dark, and handsome. He was courteous, affable, and brave, --butwedded to his peculiar views, and, as I thought, a thorough "YoungAmerican. "

The Maine regiment was fathered by Colonel Burnham, a staunch old yeomanand soldier, who has since been made a General. His probity andgood-nature were adjuncts of his valor, and his men were of the betterclass of New Englanders. The fourth regiment fell into the hands of alawyer from Lewistown, Pennsylvania. He had been also in the Mexicanwar, and was remarkable mainly for strictness with regard to thesanitary regulations of his camps. He had wells dug at every stoppage, and his tents were generally fenced and canopied with cedar arbors. General Hancock's staff was composed of a number of young men, most ofwhom had been called from civil life. His brigade constituted one ofthree commanded by General Smith. Four batteries were annexed to thedivision so formed; the entire number of muskets was perhaps eightthousand. The Chief of Artillery was a Captain Ayres, whose batterysaved the three months' army at Bull Run. It so happened that he cameinto the General's during the evening, and recited the particulars of agunboat excursion, thirty miles up the Pamunkey, wherein he had landedhis men, and burned a quantity of grain, some warehouses, and shipping. I pencilled the facts at once, made up my letter, and mailed it early inthe morning. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

RUSTICS IN REBELLION. 

At White House, I met some of the mixed Indians and negroes fromIndiantown Island, which lies among the osiers in the stream. One ofthese ferried me over, and the people received me obsequiously, touchingtheir straw hats, and saying, "Sar, at your service!" They were allanxious to hear something of the war, and asked, solicitously, if theywere to be protected. Some of them had been to Richmond the previousday, and gave me some unimportant items happening in the city. I foundthat they had Richmond papers of that date, and purchased them for a fewcents. They knew little or nothing of their own history, and hadpreserved no traditions of their tribe. There was, however, Iunderstood, a very old woman extant, named "Mag, " of great repute atmedicines, pow-wows, and divination. I expressed a desire to speak withher, and was conducted to a log-house, more ricketty and ruined than anyof the others. About fifty half-breeds followed me in respectfulcuriosity, and they formed a semicircle around the cabin. The old womansat in the threshold, barefooted, and smoking a stump of clay pipe. 

"Yaw's one o' dem Nawden soldiers, Aunt Mag!" said my conductor. "Hewants to talk wid ye. "

"Sot down, honey, " said the old woman, producing a wooden stool; "is youa Yankee, honey? Does you want you fauchun told by de ole 'oman?"

I perceived that the daughter of the Delawares smelt strongly offire-water, and the fumes of her calumet were most unwholesome. She wasgreatly disappointed that I did not require her prophetic services, andsaid, appealingly--

"Why, sar, all de gen'elmen an' ladies from Richmond has dere fauchunstold. I tells 'em true. All my fauchuns comes out true. Ain't dat so, chillen?"

A low murmur of assent ran round the group, and I was obviously losingcaste in the settlement. 

"Here is a dime, " said I, "that I will give you, to tell me the resultof the war. Shall the North be victorious in the next battle? WillRichmond surrender within a week? Shall I take my cigar at the Spotswoodon Sunday fortnight?"

"I'se been a lookin' into dat, " she said, cunningly; "I'se had dreams ondat ar'. Le'um see how de armies stand!"

She brought from the house a cup of painted earthenware containingsediments of coffee. I saw her crafty white eyes look up to mine as shemuttered some jargon, and pretended to read the arrangement of thegrains. 

"Honey, " she said, "gi' me de money, and let de ole 'oman dream on itonce mo'! It ain't quite clar' yit, young massar. Tank you, honey! Tankyou! Let de old 'oman dream! Let de ole 'oman dream!"

She disappeared into the house, chuckling and chattering, and the sonsof the forest, loitering awhile, dispersed in various directions. As Ifollowed my conductor to the riverside, and he parted the close bushesand boughs to give us exit, the glare of the camp-fires broke all atonce upon us. The ship-lights quivered on the water; the figures of menmoved to and fro before the fagots; the stars peeped timorously from thevault; the woods and steep banks were blackly shadowed in the river. Here was I, among the aborigines; and as my dusky acquaintance sent hiscanoe skimming across the ripples, I thought how inexplicable were thedecrees of Time and the justice of God. Two races united in thesepeople, and both of them we had wronged. From the one we had takenlands; from the other liberties. Two centuries had now elapsed. But thelittle remnant of the African and the American were to look from theirIsland Home upon the clash of our armies and the murder of our braves. 

By the 19th of May the skirts of the grand army had been gathered up, and on the 20th the march to Richmond was resumed. The troops movedalong two main roads, of which the right led to New Mechanicsville andMeadow Bridges, and the left to the railroad and Bottom Bridges. Mydivision formed the right centre, and although the Chickahominy fordswere but eighteen miles distant, we did not reach them for three days. On the first night we encamped at Tunstalls, a railroad-station on BlackCreek; on the second at New Cold Harbor, a little country tavern, keptby a cripple; and on the night of the third day at Hogan's farm, on thenorth hills of the Chickahominy. The railroad was opened to DespatchStation at the same time, but the right and centre were still compelledto "team" their supplies from White House. In the new position, the armyextended ten miles along the Chickahominy hills; and while the engineerswere driving pile, tressel, pontoon, and corduroy bridges, the cavalrywas scouring the country, on both flanks, far and wide. 

The advance was full of incident, and I learned to keep as far in frontas possible, that I might communicate with scouts, contrabands, andcitizens. Many odd personages were revealed to me at the farm-houses onthe way, and I studied, with curious interest, the native Virginiancharacter. They appeared to be compounds of the cavalier and the boor. There was no old gentleman who owned a thousand barren acres, spottedwith scrub timber; who lived in a weather-beaten barn, with amultiplicity of porch and a quantity of chimney; whose means bore noproportion to his pride, and neither to his indolence, --that did nottalk of his ancestry, proffer his hospitality, and defy me to anargument. I was a civilian, --they had no hostility to me, --but theblue-coats of the soldiers seared their eyeballs. In some cases theirdaughters remained upon the property; but the sons and the negroesalways fled, --though in contrary directions. The old men used to peepthrough the windows at the passing columns; and as their gates werewrenched from the hinges, their rails used to pry wagons out of the mud, their pump-handles shaken till the buckets splintered in the shaft, andtheir barns invaded by greasy agrarians, they walked to and fro, half-weakly, half-wrathfully, but with a pluck, fortitude, and devotionthat wrung my respect. Some aged negro women commonly remained, butthese were rather incumbrances than aids, and they used the family mealto cook bread for the troops. An old, toothless, grinning African stoodat every lane and gate, selling buttermilk and corn-cakes. Poor mortal, sinful old women! They had worked for nothing through their three-scoreand ten, but avarice glared from their shrivelled pupils, and their lastbut greatest delight lay in the coppers and the dimes. One would havethought that they had outlived the greed of gold; but wages deferredmake the dying miserly. 

The lords of the manors were troubled to know the number of our troops. For several days the columns passed with their interminable teams, batteries, and adjuncts, and the old gentlemen were loth to compute usat less than several millions. 

"Why, look yonder, " said one, pointing to a brigade; "I declar' togracious, there ain't no less than ten thousand in _them_!"

"Tousands an' tousands!" said a wondering negro at his elbow. "I wondaif dey'll take Richmond dis yer day?"

Many of them hung white flags at their gate-posts, implying neutrality;but nobody displayed the Federal colors. If there were any covertsympathizers with the purposes of the army, they remembered thevengeance of the neighbors and made no demonstrations. There was aprodigious number of stragglers from the Federal lines, as these werethe bane of the country people. They sauntered along by twos and threes, rambling into all the fields and green-apple orchards, intruding theirnoses into old cabins, prying into smoke-houses, and cellars, looking atthe stock in the stables, and peeping on tiptoe into the windows ofdwellings. These stragglers were true exponents of Yankeecharacter, --always wanting to know, --averse to discipline, eccentric intheir orbits, entertaining profound contempt for everything that was notup to the measure of "to hum. "

"Look here, Bill, I say!" said one, with a great grin on his face; "didyou ever, neow! I swan! they call that a plough down in these parts. "

"Devilishest people I ever see!" said Bill, "stick their meetin'-housessquare in the woods! Build their chimneys first and move the houses upto 'em! All the houses breakin' out in perspiration of porch! All theirmachinery with Noah in the ark! Pump the soil dry! Go to sleep a milkin'a keow! Depend entirely on Providence and the nigger!"

There was a mill on the New Bridge road, ten miles from White House, with a tidy farm-house, stacks, and cabins adjoining. The road crossedthe mill-race by a log bridge, and a spreading pond or dam lay to theleft, --the water black as ink, the shore sandy, and the streamdisappearing in a grove of straight pines. A youngish woman, withseveral small children, occupied the dwelling, and there remained, besides, her fat sister-in-law and four or five faithful negroes. Ibegged the favor of a meal and bed in the place one night, and shall notforget the hospitable table with its steaming biscuit; the chubby baby, perched upon his high stool; the talkative elderly woman, who tooksnuff at the fireplace; the contented black-girl, who played the Hebe;and above all, the trim, plump, pretty hostess, with her brown eyes andhair, her dignity and her fondness, sitting at the head of the board. When she poured the bright coffee into the capacious bowl, she revealedthe neatest of hands and arms, and her dialect was softer and moremusical than that of most Southerners. In short, I fell almost in lovewith her; though she might have been a younger playmate of my mother's, and though she was the wife of a Quartermaster in a Virginia regiment. For, somehow, a woman seems very handsome when one is afield; and thecontact of rough soldiers, gives him a partiality for females. It musthave required some courage to remain upon the farm; but she hopedthereby to save the property from spoliation. I played a game of whistwith the sister-in-law, arguing all the while; and at nine o'clock theservant produced some hard cider, shellbarks, and apples. We drank acheery toast: "an early peace and old fellowship!"--to which the wifeadded a sentiment of "always welcome, " and the baby laughed at her knee. How brightly glowed the fire! I wanted to linger for a week, a month, ayear, --as I do now, thinking it all over, --and when I strolled to theporch, --hearing the pigeons cooing at the barn; the water streaming downthe dam; the melancholy monotony of the pine boughs;--there only lackedthe humming mill-wheel, and the strong grip of the miller's hand, tofill the void corner of one's happy heart. 

But this was a time of war, when dreams are rudely broken, and minecould not last. The next day some great wheels beat down the bridge, andthe teams clogged the road for miles; the waiting teamsters saw themiller's sheep, and the geese, chickens, and pigs, rashly exposedthemselves in the barnyard; these were killed and eaten, the millstripped of flour and meal, and the garden despoiled of its vegetables. A quartermaster's horse foundered, and he demanded the miller's, givingtherefor a receipt, but specifying upon the same the owner's relation tothe Rebellion; and, to crown all, a group of stragglers, butchered thecows, and heaped the beef in their wagons to feed their regimentalfriends. When I presented myself, late in the afternoon, the yard andporches were filled with soldiers; the wife sat within, her head thrownupon the window, her bright hair unbound, and her eyes red with weeping. The baby had cried itself to sleep, the sister-in-law took snufffiercely, at the fire; the black girl cowered in a corner. 

"There is not bread in the house for my children, " she said; "but I didnot think they could make me shed a tear. "

If there were Spartan women, as the story-books say, I wonder if theirblood died with them! I hardly think so. 

If I learned anything from my quiet study of this and subsequentcampaigns, it was the heartlessness of war. War brutalizes! The mostpitiful become pitiless afield, and those who are not callous, must docruel duties. If the quartermaster had not seized the horses, he wouldhave been accountable for his conduct; had he failed to state themiller's disloyalty in the receipt, he would have been punished. The menwere thieves and brutes, to take the meal and meat; but they wereperhaps hungry and weary, and sick of camp food; on the whole, I becamea devotee of the George Fox faith, and hated warfare, though I knewnothing to substitute for it, in _crises_. 

Besides, the optimist might have seen much to admire. Individual meritswere developed around me; I saw shop-keepers and mechanics in the ranks, and they looked to be better men. Here were triumphs of engineering;there perfections of applied ingenuity. I saw how the weakest naturesgirt themselves for great resolves, and how fortitude outstrippeditself. It is a noble thing to put by the fear of death. It was a grandspectacle, this civil soldiery of both sections, supporting theirprinciples, ambitions, or whatever instigated them, with their bodies;and their bones, lie where they will, must be severed, when theplough-share some day heaves them to the ploughman. 

One morning a friend asked me to go upon a scout. 

"Where are your companies?" said I. 

"There are four behind, and we shall be joined by six at Old ColdHarbor. "

I saw, in the rear, filing through a belt of woods, the tall figures ofthe horsemen, approaching at a canter. 

"Do you command?" said I again. 

"No! the Major has charge of the scout, and his orders are secret. "

I wheeled beside him, as the cavalry closed up, waved my hand toPlumley, and the girls, and went forward to the rendezvous, about sixmiles distant. The remaining companies of the regiment were here drawnup, watering their nags. The Major was a thick, sunburnt man, withgrizzled beard, and as he saw us rounding a corner of hilly road, hisvoice rang out--

"Attention! Prepare to mount!"

Every rider sprang to his nag; every nag walked instinctively to hisplace; every horseman made fast his girths, strapped his blanketstightly, and lay his hands upon bridle-rein and pommel. 

"Attention! Mount!"

The riders sprang to their seats; the bugles blew a lively strain; thehorses pricked up their ears; and the long array moved briskly forward, with the Captain, the Major, and myself at the head. We were joined in amoment by two pieces of flying artillery, and five fresh companies ofcavalry. In a moment more we were underway again, galloping duenorthward, and, as I surmised, toward Hanover Court House. If any branchof the military service is feverish, adventurous, and exciting, it isthat of the cavalry. One's heart beats as fast as the hoof-falls; thereis no music like the winding of the bugle, and no monotone so full ofmeaning as the clink of sabres rising and falling with the dashing pace. Horse and rider become one, --a new race of Centaurs, --and the charge, the stroke, the crack of carbines, are so quick, vehement, and dramatic, that we seem to be watching the joust of tournaments or following fierceSaladins and Crusaders again. We had ridden two hours at a fair canter, when we came to a small stream that crossed the road obliquely, andgurgled away through a sandy valley into the deepnesses of the woods. Acart-track, half obliterated, here diverged, running parallel with thecreek, and the Major held up his sword as a signal to halt; at the samemoment the bugle blew a quick, shrill note. 

"There are hoof-marks here!" grunted the Major, --"five of 'em. The Dutchman has gone into the thicket. Hulloo!" he added, precipitately--"there go the carbines!"

I heard, clearly, two explosions in rapid succession; then a generaldischarge, as of several persons firing at once, and at last, fivecontinuous reports, fainter, but more regular, and like the severalemptyings of a revolver. I had scarcely time to note these things, andthe effect produced upon the troop, when strange noises came from thewoods to the right: the floundering of steeds, the cries and curses ofmen, and the ringing of steel striking steel. Directly the boughscrackled, the leaves quivered, and a horse and rider plunged into theroad, not five rods from my feet. The man was bareheaded, and his faceand clothing were torn with briars and branches. He was at first ridingfairly upon our troops, when he beheld the uniform and standards, andwith a sharp oath flung up his sword and hands. 

"I surrender!" he said; "I give in! Don't shoot!"

The scores of carbines that were levelled upon him at once dropped totheir rests at the saddles; but some unseen avenger had not heeded theshriek; a ball whistled from the woods, and the man fell from hiscushion like a stone. In another instant, the German sergeant boundedthrough the gap, holding his sabre aloft in his right hand; but the lefthung stiff and shattered at his side, and his face was deathly white. Heglared an instant at the dead man by the roadside, leered grimly, andcalled aloud--

"Come on, Major! Dis vay! Dere are a squad of dem ahead!"

The bugle at once sounded a charge, the Major rose in the stirrups, andthundered "Forward!" I reined aside, intuitively, and the column dashedhotly past me. With a glance at the heap of mortality littering the way, I spurred my nag sharply, and followed hard behind. The riderless horseseemed to catch the fever of the moment, and closed up with me, leavinghis master the solitary tenant of the dell. For perhaps three miles wegalloped like the wind, and my brave little traveller overtook thehindmost of the troop, and retained the position. Thrice there weredischarges ahead; I caught glimpses of the Major, the Captain, and thewolfish sergeant, far in the advance; and once saw, through the cloud ofdust that beset them, the pursued and their individual pursuers, turningthe top of a hill. But for the most part, I saw nothing; I _felt_ allthe intense, consuming, burning ardor of the time and the event. Ithought that my hand clutched a sabre, and despised myself that it wasnot there. I stood in the stirrups, and held some invisible enemy by thethroat. In a word, the bloodiness of the chase was upon me. I realizedthe fierce infatuation of matching life with life, and standing arbiterupon my fellow's body and soul. It seemed but a moment, when we halted, red and panting, in the paltry Court House village of Hanover; thefield-pieces hurled a few shells at the escaping Confederates, and themen were ordered to dismount. 

It seemed that a Confederate picket had been occupying the village, andthe creek memorized by the skirmish was an outpost merely. Two of theman Otto's party had been slain in the woods, where also lay as manySoutherners. 

Hanover Court House is renowned as the birthplace of Patrick Henry, thecolonial orator, called by Byron the "forest Demosthenes. " In a littletavern, opposite the old Court House building, he began his humblecareer as a measurer of gills to convivials, and in the Court House, --asmall stone edifice, plainly but quaintly constructed, --he gave thefirst exhibitions of his matchless eloquence. Not far away, on aby-road, the more modern but not less famous orator, Henry Clay, wasborn. The region adjacent to his father's was called the "Slashes ofHanover, " and thence came his appellation of the "Mill Boy of theSlashes. " I had often longed to visit these shrines; but never dreamedthat the booming of cannon would announce me. The soldiers broke intoboth the tavern and court-house, and splintered some chairs in theformer to obtain relics of Henry. I secured Richmond newspapers of thesame morning, and also some items of intelligence. With these I decidedto repair at once to White House, and formed the rash determination oftaking the direct or Pamunkey road, which I had never travelled, andwhich might be beset by Confederates. The distance to White House, bythis course, was only twenty miles; whereas it was nearly as far tohead-quarters; and I believed that my horse had still the persistence tocarry me. It was past four o'clock; but I thought to ride six miles anhour while daylight lasted, and, by good luck, get to the depot at nine. The Major said that it was foolhardiness; the Captain bantered me to go. I turned my back upon both, and bade them good by. 

CHAPTER IX. 

PUT UNDER ARREST. 

While daylight remained, I had little reason to repent my waywardresolve. The Pamunkey lay to my left, and the residences between it andthe road were of a better order than others that I had seen. This partof the country had not been overrun, and the wheat and young corn werewaving in the river-breeze. I saw few negroes, but the porches werefrequently occupied by women and white men, who looked wonderinglytoward me. There were some hoof-marks in the clay, and traces of a broadtire that I thought belonged to a gun-carriage. The hills of KingWilliam County were but a little way off, and through the wood thatdarkened them, sunny glimpses of vari-colored fields and dwellings nowand then appeared. I came to a shabby settlement called New Castle, atsix o'clock, where an evil-looking man walked out from a frame-house, and inquired the meaning of the firing at Hanover. 

I explained hurriedly, as some of his neighbors meantime gathered aroundme. They asked if I was not a soldier in the Yankee army, and as I rodeaway, followed me suspiciously with their eyes and wagged their heads. To end the matter I spurred my pony and soon galloped out of sight. Henceforward I met only stern, surprised glances, and seemed to read"murder" in the faces of the inhabitants. A wide creek crossed the roadabout five miles further on, where I stopped to water my horse. Theshades of night were gathering now; there was no moon; and for thefirst time I realized the loneliness of my position. Hitherto, adventurehad laughed down fear; hereafter my mind was to be darkened like thegloaming, and peopled with ghastly shadows. 

I was yet young in the experience of death, and the toppled corpse ofthe slain cavalry-man on the scout, somehow haunted me. I heard hishoof-falls chiming with my own, and imagined, with a cold thrill, thathis steed was still following me; then, his white rigid face anduplifted arms menaced my way; and, at last, the ruffianly form of hisslayer pursued him along the wood. They glided like shadows over thefoliage, and flashed across the surfaces of pools and rivulets. I heardtheir steel ringing in the underbrush, and they flitted around me, pursuing and retreating, till my brain began to whirl with the motion. Suddenly my horse stumbled, and I reined him to a halt. 

The cold drops were standing on my forehead. I found my knees a-quiverand my breathing convulsive. With an expletive upon my unmanliness, Itouched the nag with my heel, and whistled encouragingly. Poor pony!Fifty miles of almost uninterrupted travel had broken his spirit. Heleaped into his accustomed pace: but his legs were unsteady and hefloundered at every bound. There were pools, ruts, and boughs across theway, with here and there stretches of slippery corduroy; but the thickblackness concealed these, and I expected momentarily to be thrown fromthe saddle. By and by he dropped from a canter into a rock; from a rockto an amble; then into a walk, and finally to a slow painful limp. Idismounted and took him perplexedly by the bit. A light shone from thewindow of a dwelling across some open fields to the left, and I thoughtof repairing thither; but some deep-mouthed dogs began to bay directly, and then the lamp went out. A tiny stream sang at the roadside, flowingtoward some deeper tributary; lighting a cigar, I made out, by itsfitful illuminings, to wash the limbs of the jaded nag. Then I led himfor an hour, till my own limbs were weary, troubled all the time byweird imaginings, doubts, and regrets. When I resumed the saddle thehorse had a firmer step and walked pleasantly. I ventured after a timeto incite him to a trot, and was going nicely forward, when a deepvoice, that almost took my breath, called from the gloom--

"Who comes there? Halt, or I fire! Guard, turn out!"

Directly the road was full of men, and a bull's-eye lantern flashed uponmy face. A group of foot-soldiery, with drawn pistols and sabres, gathered around me, and I heard the neigh of steeds from someimperceptible vicinity. "Who is it, Sergeant?" said one. "Is there butone of 'em?" said another. "Cuss him!" said a third; "I was takin' abully snooze. " "Who are yeou?" said the Sergeant, sternly; "what areyeou deouin' aout at this hour o' the night? Are yeou a rebbil?"

"No!" I answered, greatly relieved; "I am a newspaper correspondent ofSmith's division, and there's my pass!"

I was taken over to a place in the woods, where some fagots weresmouldering, and, stirring them to a blaze, the Sergeant read thedocument and pronounced it right. 

"Yeou hain't got no business, nevertheless, to be roamin' araoundoutside o' picket; but seein' as it's yeou, I reckon yeou may trotalong!"

I offered to exchange my information for a biscuit and a drop of coffee, for I was wellnigh worn out; while one of the privates produced acanteen more wholesome than cleanly, another gave me a lump of fat porkand a piece of corn bread. They gathered sleepily about me, while I toldof the scout, and the Sergeant said that my individual ride was "gameenough, but nothin' but darn nonsense. " Then they fed my horse with atrifle of oats, and after awhile I climbed, stiff and bruised, to thesaddle again, and bade them good night. 

I knew now that I was at "Putney's, " a ford on the Pamunkey, and an hourlater I came in sight of the ship-lights at White House, and heard thesteaming of tugs and draught-boats, going and coming by night. I hitchedmy horse to a tree, pilfered some hay and fodder from two or three nagstied adjacent, and picked my way across a gangway, several barge-decks, and a floating landing, to the mail steamer that lay outside. Her deckand cabin were filled with people, stretched lengthwise and crosswise, tangled, grouped, and snoring, but all apparently fast asleep. I coollytook a blanket from a man that looked as though he did not need it, andwrapped myself cosily under a bench in a corner. The cabin light flareddimly, half irradiating the forms below, and the boat heaved a little onthe river-swells. The night was cold, the floor hard, and I almost deadwith fatigue. But what of that! I felt the newspapers in my breastpocket, and knew that the mail could not leave me in the morning. Blessed be the news-gatherer's sleep! I think he earned it. 

It was very pleasant, at dawn, to receive the congratulations of ouragent, with whom I breakfasted, and to whom I consigned a hastilywritten letter and all the Richmond papers of the preceding day. He wasa shrewd, sanguine, middle-aged man, of large experience and goodstanding in our establishment. He was sent through the South at thebeginning of the Rebellion, and introduced into all public bodies andsocial circles, that he might fathom the designs of Secession, andcomprehend its spirit. Afterward he accompanied the Hatteras and PortRoyal expeditions, and witnessed those celebrated bombardments. Such athorough individual abnegation I never knew. He was a part of theestablishment, body and soul. He agreed with its politics, adhered toall its policies, defended it, upheld it, revered it. The FederalGovernment was, to his eye, merely an adjunct of the paper. Battles andsieges were simply occurrences for its columns. Good men, brave men, badmen, died to give it obituaries. The whole world was to him a Reporter'sdistrict, and all human mutations plain matters of news. I hardly thinkthat any city, other than New York, contains such characters. Thejournals there are full of fever, and the profession of journalism is adisease. 

He cashed me a draft for a hundred dollars, and I filled my saddle-bagswith smoking-tobacco, spirits, a meerschaum pipe, packages of sardines, a box of cigars, and some cheap publications. Then we adjourned to thequay, where the steamer was taking in mails, freight and passengers. Thepapers were in his side-pocket, and he was about to commit them to asteward for transmission to Fortress Monroe, when my name was calledfrom the strand by a young mounted officer, connected with one of thestaffs of my division. I thought that he wished to exchange salutationsor make some inquiries, and tripped to his side. 

"General McClellan wants those newspapers that you obtained at Hanoveryesterday!"

A thunderbolt would not have more transfixed me. I could not speak for amoment. Finally, I stammered that they were out of my possession. 

"Then, sir, I arrest you, by order of General McClellan. Get yourhorse!"

"Stop!" said I, agitatedly, "--it may not be too late. I can recoverthem yet. Here is our agent, --I gave them to him. "

I turned, at the word, to the landing where he stood a moment before. Tomy dismay, he had disappeared. 

"This is some frivolous pretext to escape, " said the Lieutenant; "youcorrespondents are slippery fellows, but I shall take care that you donot play any pranks with me. The General is irritated already, and ifyou prevaricate relative to those papers he may make a signal example ofyou. "

I begged to be allowed to look for----; but he answered cunningly, thatI had better mount and ride on. An acquaintance of mine here interfered, and testified to the existency of the agent and his probable connectionwith the journals. Pale, flurried, excited, I started to discover him, the Lieutenant following me closely meantime. We entered every booth andtent, went from craft to craft, sought among the thick clusters ofpeople, and even at the Commissary's and Quartermaster's pounds, thatlay some distance up the railroad. 

"I am sorry for you, old fellow, " said the Lieutenant, "but youraccomplice has probably escaped. It's very sneaking of him, as it makesit harder for you; but I have no authority to deal with him, though Ishall take care to report his conduct at head-quarters. "

I found that the Lieutenant was greatly gratified with the dutyentrusted to him. He had been at the cavalry quarters on the return ofthe scouting party, and had overheard the Major muttering something asto McClellan's displeasure at receiving no Richmond journals. The Majorhad added that one of the correspondents took them to White House, and, mentioning me by name, this young and aspiring satellite had blurted outthat he knew me, and could doubtless overtake me at the mail-boat in themorning. The Commanding General authorised him to arrest me _with thepapers_, and report at head-quarters. This was then a journey torecommend him to authority, and it involved no personal danger. I wasnot so intimidated that I failed to see how the Lieutenant would losehis gayest feather by failing to recover the journals, and I dexterouslyinsinuated that it would be well to recommence the search. This time wewere successful. The shrewd, sanguine, middle-aged man was coollycontemplating the river from an outside barge, concealed from the shoreby piled boxes of ammunition. He was reading a phonetic pamphlet, andappeared to take his apprehension as a pleasant morning call. I caughtone meaning glance, however, that satisfied me how clearly he understoodthe case. 

"Ha! Townsend, " said he, smilingly, "back already? I thought we had lostyou. One of your military friends? Good-day, Lieutenant. "

"I am under arrest, my boy, " said I, "and you will much aggravateGeneral McClellan, if you do not consign those Richmond journals to hisdeputy here. "

"Under arrest? You surprise me! I am sorry, Lieutenant that you have hadso fatiguing a ride, but the fact is, those papers have gone down theriver. If the General is not in a great hurry, he will see their columnsreproduced by us in a few days. "

"How did they go?" said the Lieutenant, with an oath, "if by themail-boat I will have General Van Vliet despatch a tug to overhaul her. "

"I am very sorry again, " said the bland civilian, smoothing his hands:"but they went by the _South America_ at a much earlier hour. "

I looked appealingly to him; the satellite stared down the riverperplexedly, but suddenly his eye fell upon something that absorbed it;and he turned like a madman to----

"By! ---- sir, you are lying to me. There is the _South America_ mooredto a barge, and her steam is not up!"

"Those words are utterly uncalled for, " said the agent, --"but you cannotirritate me, my dear sir! I know that youth is hot, --particularlymilitary youth yet inexperienced; and therefore I pardon you. I made amistake. It was not the _South America_, it was--it was--upon my word Icannot recall the name!"

"You do not mean to!" thundered the young Ajax, to whose vanity, ----'sspeech had been gall; "my powers are discretionary: I arrest you in thename of General McClellan. "

"Indeed! Be sure you understand your orders! It isn't probable that sucha fiery blade is allowed much discretionary margin. The General himselfwould not assume such airs. Why don't you shoot me? It might contributeto your promotion, and that is, no doubt, your object. I know GeneralMcClellan very well. He is a personal friend of mine. "

His manner was so self-possessed, his tone so cutting, that the youngman of fustian--whose name was Kenty--fingered his sword hilt, andfoamed at the lips. 

"March on, " said he, --"I will report this insolence word for word. "

He motioned us to the quay; we preceded him. The sanguine gentlemankeeping up a running fire of malevolent sarcasm. 

"Stop!" said he quietly, as we reached his tent, --"I have not sent themat all. They are here. And you have made all this exhibition of yourselffor nothing. I am the better soldier, you see. You are a drummer-boy, not an officer. Take off your shoulder-bars, and go to school again. "

He disappeared a minute, returned with two journals, and looking at me, meaningly, turned to their titles. 

"Let me see!" he said, smoothly, --"_Richmond Examiner_, May 28, _Richmond Enquirer_, May 22. There! You have them! Go in peace! Give myrespects to General McClellan! Townsend, old fellow, you have done yourfull duty. Don't let this young person frighten you. Good by. "

He gave me his hand, with a sinister glance, and left something in mypalm when his own was withdrawn. I examined it hastily when I girt up mysaddle. It said: "_Your budget got off safe, old fellow. _" He had givenKenty some old journals that were of no value to anybody. When we weremounted and about to start, the Lieutenant looked witheringly upon hispersecutor--

"Allow me to say, sir, " he exclaimed, "that you are the most unblushingliar I ever knew. "

"Thank you, kindly, " said----, taking off his hat, "you do me honor!"

Our route was silent and weary enough. The young man at my side, unconscious of his wily antagonist's deception, boasted for some timethat he had attained his purposes. As I could not undeceive him, I heldmy tongue; but feared that when this trick should be made manifest, thevengeance would fall on me alone. I heartily wished the unlucky papersat the bottom of the sea. To gratify an adventurous whim, and obtain aday's popularity at New York, I had exposed my life, crippled my nag, and was now to be disgraced and punished. What might or might not befallme, I gloomily debated. The least penalty would be expulsion from thearmy; but imprisonment till the close of the war, was a favoriteamusement with the War Office. How my newspaper connection would beembarrassed was a more grievous inquiry. It stung me to think that I hadblundered twice on the very threshold of my career. Was I not acquiringa reputation for rashness that would hinder all future promotion andcast me from the courts of the press. Here the iron entered into mysoul; for be it known, I loved Bohemia! This roving commission, thesevagabond habits, this life in the open air among the armies, the whitetents, the cannon, and the drums, they were my elysium, my heart! But tobe driven away, as one who had broken his trust, forfeited favor andconfidence, and that too on the eve of grand events, was something thatwould embitter my existence. 

We passed the familiar objects that I had so often buoyantlybeheld, --deserted encampments, cross-roads, rills, farm-houses, fields, and at last came to Daker's. I called out to them, and explained mywoful circumstances with rueful conciseness. 

It was growing dark when we came to general headquarters, two milesbeyond Gaines's Mill. The tents were scattered over the surface of ahill, and most of them were illumined by candles. 

The Lieutenant gave our horses to an orderly, and led the way throughtwo outer circles of wall-tents, between which and the inner circle, guards were pacing, to deny all vulgar ingress. 

A staff officer took in our names, and directly returned with the replyof "Pass in!" We were now in the sacred enclosure, secured by flamingswords. Four tents stood in a row, allotted respectively to the Chief ofStaff, the Adjutant-General, the telegraph operators, and the selectstaff officers. Just behind them, embowered by a covering of cedarboughs, stood the tent of General McClellan. Close by, from an open plotor area of ground, towered a pine trunk, floating the national flag. Lights burned in three of the tents: low voices, as of subduedconversation, were heard from the first. 

A little flutter of my heart, a drawing aside of canvas, two steps, anuncovering, and a bow, --I stood at my tribunal! A couple of candles wereplaced upon a table, whereat sat a fine specimen of man, with kindlyfeatures, dark, grayish, flowing hair, and slight marks of years uponhis full, purplish face. He looked to be a well-to-do citizen, whosesuccess had taught him sedentary convivialities. A fuming cigar laybefore him; some empty champagne bottles sat upon a pine desk; tumblersand a decanter rested upon a camp-stool; a bucket, filled with water anda great block of ice, was visible under the table. Five other gentlemen, each with a star in his shoulder-bar, were dispersed upon chairs andalong a camp bedside. The tall, angular, dignified gentleman withcompressed lips and a "character" nose, was General Barry, Chief ofArtillery. The lithe, severe, gristly, sanguine person, whose eyesflashed even in repose, was General Stoneman, Chief of Cavalry. Thelarge, sleepy-eyed, lymphatic, elderly man, clad in dark, civil gray, whose ears turned up habitually as from deafness, was Prince deJoinville, brother to Louis Philippe, King of France. The little manwith red hair and beard, who moved quickly and who spoke sharply, wasSeth Williams, Adjutant-General. The stout person with florid face, large, blue eyes, and white, straight hair, was General Van Vliet, Quartermaster-General. And the man at the table, was General Marcy, father-in-law to McClellan, and Executive officer of the army. 

Maps, papers, books, and luggage lay around the room; all the gentlemenwere smoking and wine sparkled in most of the glasses. Some swords werelying upon the floor, a pair of spurs glistened by the bed, and three ofthe officers had their feet in the air. 

"What is it you wish, Lieutenant?" said General Marcy, gravely. 

The boor in uniform at my side, related his errand and order, gave theparticulars of my arrest, declaimed against our agent, and submitted thejournals. He told his story stammeringly, and I heard one of theofficers in the background mutter contemptuously when he had finished. 

"Were you aware of the order prohibiting correspondents from keepingwith the advance?" said the General, looking up. 

"I had not been notified from head-quarters. I have been with the armyonly a week. "

"You knew that you had no business upon scouts, forages, orreconnoissances; why did you go?"

"I went by invitation. "

"Who invited you?"

"I would prefer not to state, since it would do him an injury. "

Here the voices in the background muttered, as I thought, applaudingly. Gaining confidence as I proceeded, I spoke more boldly--

"I am sure I regret that I have disobeyed any order of GeneralMcClellan's; but there can nothing occur in the rear of an army. Obedience, in this case, would be indolence and incompetence; for onlythe reliable would stay behind and the reckless go ahead. If I amaccredited here as a correspondent, I must keep up with the events. Andthe rivalries of our tribe, General, are so many, that the best of ussometimes forget what is right for what is expedient. I hope thatGeneral McClellan will pass by this offence. "

He heard my rambling defence quietly, excused the Lieutenant, andwhistled for an orderly. 

"I don't think that you meant to offend General McClellan, " he said, "but he wishes you to be detained. Give me your pass. Orderly, take thisgentleman to General Porter, and tell him to treat him kindly. Goodnight. "

When we got outside of the tent, I slipped a silver half-dollar into theorderly's hand, and asked him if he understood the General's finalremark. He said, in reply, that I was directed to be treated withcourtesy, kindness, and care, and asked me, in conclusion, if there wereany adjectives that might intensify the recommendation. When we came toGeneral Porter, the Provost-Marshal, however, he pooh-poohed thequalifications, and said that _his_ business was merely to put me undersurveillance. This unamiable man ordered me to be taken to MajorWillard, the deputy Provost, whose tent we found after a long search. The Major was absent, but some young officers of his mess were takingsupper at his table, and with these I at once engaged in conversation. 

I knew that if I was to be spared an immersion in the common guardhouse, with drunkards, deserters, and prisoners of war, I must win the favor ofthese men. I gave them the story of my arrest, spoke lightly of theoffence and jestingly of the punishment, and, in fact, so improved mycause that, when the Major appeared, and the Sergeant consigned me tohis custody, one of the young officers took him aside, and, I am sure, said some good words in my favor. 

The Major was a bronzed, indurated gentleman, scrupulously attired, andcourteously stern. He looked at me twice or thrice, to my confusion; forI was dusty, wan, and running over with perspiration. His first remarkhad, naturally, reference to the lavatory, and, so far as my face andhair were concerned, I was soon rejuvenated. I found on my return to thetent, a clean plate and a cup of steaming coffee placed for me, and Iate with a full heart though pleading covertly the while. When I haddone, and the tent became deserted by all save him and me, he said, simply--

"What am I to do with you, Mr. Townsend?"

"Treat me as a gentleman, I hope, Major. "

"We have but one place of confinement, " said he, "the guardhouse; but Iam loth to send you there. Light your pipe, and I will think the matterover. "

He took a turn in front, consulted with some of his associates, anddirectly returning, said that I was to be quartered in his office-tent, adjoining. A horror being thus lifted from my mind, I heard with sincereinterest many revelations of his military career. He had been a commonsoldier in the Mexican war, and had fought his way, step by step, torepeated commissions. He had garrisoned Fort Yuma, and other posts onthe far plains, and at the beginning of the war was tendered a volunteerbrigade, which he modestly declined. His tastes were refined, and a warmfancy, approaching poetry, enhanced his personal reminiscences. His facesoftened, his eyes grew milder, his large, commanding mouth relaxed, --hewas young again, living his adventures over. We talked thus till almostmidnight, when two regulars appeared in front, --stiff, ramrodishfigures, that came to a jerking "present, " tapped their caps with twofingers, and said, explosively; "Sergeant of Guard, Number Five!"

The Major rose, gave me his hand, and said that I would find a candle inmy tent, with waterproof and blankets on the ground. I was to givemyself no concern about the nag, and might, if I chose, sit for an hourto write, but must, on no account, attempt to leave the canvas, for theguard would instantly shoot me down. The guard in question had a_doppel-ganger_, --counterpart of himself in inflexibility, --and bothwere appendages of their muskets. He was not probably a sentient being, certainly not a conversational one. He knew the length of a stride, andthe manual of bayonet exercise, but was, during his natural life, ablind idolater of a deity, called "Orders. " The said "Orders, " for thepresent evening, were walking, not talking, and he was dumb to allconciliatory words. He took a position at one end of my tent, and hisdouble at the other end. They carried their muskets at "support arms, "and paced up and down, measuredly, like two cloaked and solemn ghosts. Iwrapped myself in the damp blankets, and slept through the bangs of fouror five court-martials and several executions. At three o'clock, theychanged ramrods, --the old doppel-gangers going away, and two new onesfulfilling their functions. 

CHAPTER X. 

AFTER THE VICTORY. 

The two ramrods were still pacing to and fro, when I aroused in the grayof the morning; but they looked very misty and moist, as if they wereimpalpables that were shortly to evaporate. The Major poked his headbetween the flaps at eight o'clock, and said that breakfast was ready;but the ramrod nearest me kept vigilantly alongside, and I thought hehad been invited also. The other ramrod guarded the empty tent, and Ithink that he believed me a doppel-ganger likewise. 

I wondered what was to be done with me, as the hours slipped rapidly by. The guards were relieved again at ten o'clock, and Quartermaster's mencommenced to take down the tents. Camps were to be moved, and I inquiredsolicitously if I was to be moved also. The Major replied that prisonerswere commonly made to walk along the road, escorted by horsemen, and Iimagined, with dread, the companionship of negroes, estrays, raggedConfederates, and such folk, while the whole army should witness mydegradation. Finally, all the tents were lifted and packed in wagons, aswell as the furniture. I adhered to a stool, at which the teamsterlooked wistfully, and the implacable sentinels walked to and fro. Arumor became current among the private soldiers, that I was the nephewof the southern General Lee, whose wife had been meantime captured atHanover Court House. Curious groups sauntered around me, and talkedbehind their hands. One man was overheard to say that I had foughtdesperately, and covered myself with glory, and another thought that Ifavored my uncle somewhat, and might succeed to his military virtues. 

"I guess I'll take that cheer, if you ain't got no objection, " said theteamster, and he slung it into the wagon. What to do now troubled mematerially; but one of the soldiers brought a piece of rail, and I"squatted" lugubriously on the turf. 

"If you ever get to Richmond, " said I, "you shall be consideratelytreated. " (Profound sensation. )

"Thankee!" replied the man, touching his cap; "but I'm werry wellpleased _out_ o' Richmond, Captain. "

Here the Major was seen approaching, a humorous smile playing about hiseyes. 

"You are discharged, " said he; "General Marcy will return your pass, andperhaps your papers. "

I wrung his hand with indescribable relief, and he sent the "ramrod" onguard, to saddle my horse. In a few minutes, I was mounted again, muchto the surprise of the observers of young Lee, and directly I stoodbefore the kindly Chief of Staff. At my request, he wrote a note to thedivision commander, specifying my good behavior, and restoring to me allprivileges and immunities. He said nothing whatever as to the mistake inthe papers, and told me that, on special occasions, I might keep withadvances, by procuring an extraordinary pass at head-quarters. In short, my arrest conduced greatly to my efficiency. I invariably carried myRichmond despatches to General Marcy, thereafter, and, if there wasinformation of a legitimate description, he gave me the benefit of it. 

My own brigade lay at Dr. Gaines's house, during this time, and we didnot lack for excitement. Just behind the house lay several batteries ofrifled guns, and these threw shells at hourly intervals, at certainConfederate batteries across the river. The distance was two miles orless; but the firing was generally wretched. Crowds of soldiers gatheredaround, to watch the practice, and they threw up their hats applaudinglyat successful hits. Occasionally a great round shot would bound up thehill, and a boy, one day, seeing one of these spent balls rolling alongthe ground, put out his foot to stop it, but shattered his leg sodreadfully that it had to be amputated. Dr. Gaines was a rich, aristocratic, and indolent old Virginian, whose stables, summerhouses, orchards, and negro-quarters were the finest in their district. Theshooting so annoyed him that he used to resort to the cellar; severalshots passed through his roof, and one of the chimneys was knocked off. His family carriages were five in number, and as his stables were turnedinto hospitals, these were all hauled into his lawn, where theirobsolete trimmings and queer shape constantly amused the soldiers. Aboutthis time I became acquainted with some officers of the 5th Maineregiment, and by permission, accompanied them to Mechanicsville. I washere, on the afternoon of Thursday, May 27, when the battle of HanoverCourt House was fought. We heard the rapid growl of guns, and continuousvolleys of musketry, though the place was fourteen miles distant. Atevening, a report was current that the Federals had gained a greatvictory, and captured seven hundred prisoners. The truth of this wasestablished next morning; for detachments of prisoners were from time totime brought in, and the ambulances came to camp, laden with thewounded. I took this opportunity of observing the Confederate soldiers, as they lay at the Provost quarters, in a roped pen, perhaps one hundredrods square. 

It was evening, as I hitched my horse to a stake near-by, and pressed upto the receptacle for the unfortunates. Sentries enclosed the pen, walking to-and-fro with loaded muskets; a throng of officers andsoldiers had assembled to gratify their curiosity; and new detachmentsof captives came in hourly, encircled by sabremen, the Southernersbeing disarmed and on foot. The scene within the area was ludicrouslymoving. It reminded me of the witch-scene in Macbeth, or pictures ofbrigands or Bohemian gypsies at rendezvous, not less than five hundredmen, in motley, ragged costumes, with long hair, and lean, wild, haggardfaces, were gathered in groups or in pairs, around some fagot fires. Inthe growing darkness their expressions were imperfectly visible; but Icould see that most of them were weary, and hungry, and all weredepressed and ashamed. Some were wrapped in blankets of rag-carpet, andothers wore shoes of rough, untanned hide. Others were without eithershoes or jackets, and their heads were bound with red handkerchiefs. Some appeared in red shirts; some in stiff beaver hats; some wereattired in shreds and patches of cloth; and a few wore the soiledgarments of citizen gentlemen; but the mass adhered to homespun suits ofgray, or "butternut, " and the coarse blue kersey common to slaves. Inplaces I caught glimpses of red Zouave breeches and leggings; blueFederal caps, Federal buttons, or Federal blouses; these were the spoilsof anterior battles, and had been stripped from the slain. Most of thecaptives were of the appearances denominated "scraggy" or "knotty. " Theywere brown, brawny, and wiry, and their countenances were intense, fierce, and animal. They came from North Carolina, the poorest and leastenterprising Southern State, and ignorance, with its attendant virtues, were the common facial manifestations. Some lay on the bare ground, fastasleep; others chatted nervously as if doubtful of their futuretreatment; a few were boisterous, and anxious to beg tobacco or coffeefrom idle Federals; the rest--and they comprehended the greaternumber--were silent, sullen, and vindictive. They met curiosity withscorn, and spite with imprecations. A child--not more than four years ofage, I think--sat sleeping in a corner upon an older comrade's lap. Agray-bearded pard was staunching a gash in his cheek with the tail ofhis coat. A fine-looking young fellow sat with his face in his hands, as if his heart were far off, and he wished to shut out this bitterscene. In a corner, lying morosely apart, were a Major, three Captains, and three Lieutenants, --young athletic fellows, dressed in rich graycassimere, trimmed with black, and wearing soft black hats adorned withblack ostrich-feathers. Their spurs were strapped upon elegantly fittingboots, and they looked as far above the needy, seedy privates, as lordsabove their vassals. 

After a time, couples and squads of the prisoners were marched off tocut and carry some firewood, and water, for the use of their pen, andthen each Confederate received coffee, pork, and crackers; they wereobliged to prepare their own meals, but some were so hungry that theygnawed the raw pork, like beasts of prey. Those who were not providedwith blankets, shivered through the night, though the rain was falling, and the succession of choking coughs that ran through the ranks, toldhow ill they could afford the exposure. Major Willard had charge ofthese men, and he sent a young officer to get me admittance to the pen, that I might speak with them. 

"Good evening, Major, " I said, to the ranking Confederate officer, andextended my hand. He shook it, embarrassedly, and ran me over with hiseye, as if to learn my avocation. "Can I obtain any facts from you, " Icontinued, "as to the battle of Hanover?"

"Fuh what puhpose?" he said, in his strong southern dialect. 

"For publication, sir. "

He sat up at once, and said that he should be happy to tell me anythingthat would not be a violation of military honor. I asked him, therefore, the Confederate Commandant at Hanover, the number of brigades, regiments, and batteries engaged, the disposition of forces, thecharacter of the battle, and the losses, so far as he knew, upon his ownside. Much of this he revealed, but unguardedly let out other matters, that direct inquiry could not have discovered. I took notes of thelegitimate passages, trusting to memory for the rest; and think that Ipossessed his whole stock of information, in the course of an hour'smanoeuvring. It seemed that General Branch, formerly a member of theFederal congress, had been sent with some thousands of Carolina troopsacross the upper Chickahominy, to see if it would not be possible toturn the Federal right, and cut off one of its brigades; but a strongerFederal reconnoissance had gone northward the day before, anddiscovering Branch's camp-fires, sent, during the night, forreinforcements. In the end, the "North State" volunteers were routed, their cannon silenced or broken, and seven hundred of their numbercaptured. The Federals lost a large number of men killed, and thewounded upon both sides, were numerous. 

The Confederate Major was of the class referred to in polite Americanparlance, as a "blatherskite. " He boasted after the manner of hisfellow-citizens from the county of "Bunkum, " but nevertheless feared andtrembled, to the manifest disgust of one of the young Captains. 

"Majuh!" said this young man, "what you doin' thah! That fellow's makin'notes of all your slack; keep your tongue! aftah awhile you'll tell thenombah of the foces! Don't you s'pose he'll prent it all?"

The Major had, in fact, been telling me how many regiments the "oldNawth State, suh, " had furnished to the "suhvice, " and I had the namesof some thirty colonels, in order. The young Captain gave me a sketch ofGeneral Branch, and was anxious that I should publish something inextenuation of North Carolina valor. 

"We have lost mo' men, " said he, "than any otha' Commonwealth; but theseVuhginians, whose soil, by----! suh, we defend suh! Yes, suh! whose soilwe defend; these Vuhginians, stigmatize us as cowads! _We_, suh! yessuh, _we_, that nevah wanted to leave the Union, --_we cowads_! Look atou' blood, suh, ou' blood! That's it, by----! look at that! shed onevery field of the ole Dominion, --killed, muhdud, captued, crippled! We_cowads_! I want you prent that!"

I was able to give each of the officers a drop of whiskey from my flask, and I never saw men drink so thirstily. Their hands and lips trembled asthey took it, and their eyes shone like lunacy, as the hot drops sank tothe cold vitals, and pricked the frozen blood. Mingling with theprivates, I stirred up some native specimens of patriotism, thatappeared to be in great doubt as to the causes and ends of the war. Theywere very much in the political condition of a short, thick, sententiousman, in blue drilling breeches, who said--

"Damn the country! What's to be done with _us_?"

One person said that he enlisted for the honor of his family, that "fitin the American Revolution;" and another came out to "hev a squint etthe fightin'. " Several were northern and foreign lads, that were workingon Carolina railroads, and could not leave the section, and some laboredunder the impression that they were to have a "slice" of land and a"nigger, " in the event of Southern independence. A few comprehended thespirit of the contest, and took up arms from principle; a few, also, declared their enmity to "Yankee institutions, " and had seized theoccasion to "polish them off, " and "give them a ropein' in;" but manysaid it was "dull in our deestreeks, an' the niggers was runnin' away, so I thought I'ud jine the foces. " The great mass said, that they nevercontemplated "this box, " or "this fix, " or "these suckemstances, " andall wanted the war to close, that they might return to their families. Indeed, my romantic ideas of rebellion were ruthlessly profaned anddissipated. I knew that there was much selfishness, peculation, and"Hessianism" in the Federal lines, but I had imagined a loftypatriotism, a dignified purpose, and an inflexible love of personalliberty among the Confederates. Yet here were men who knew little ofthe principles for which they staked their lives;--who enlisted from thecommonest motives of convenience, whim, pelf, adventure, and foray; andwho repented, after their first misfortune, with the salt rheum in theireyes. I think that all "great uprisings" resolve to this complexion. With due reverence for my own ancestry, I think that they sometimesstooped from greatness to littleness. I must confess that certainadmissions in my revolutionary textbook are much clearer, now that Ihave followed a campaign. And if, as I had proposed, I could havewitnessed the further fortunes of the illustrious Garibaldi, I thinkthat some of his compatriots would have been found equally inconsistent. Let no man believe that the noblest cause is fought out alone by theunerring motives of duty and devotion. The masses are never so constant. They cannot appreciate an abstraction, however divine. Any of thegentlemen in question would have preferred their biscuit and fat porkbefore the political enfranchisement of the whole world!

I rode across the fields to the Hogan, Curtis, and Gaines mansions; forsome of the wounded had meantime been deposited in each of them. All thecow-houses, wagon-sheds, hay-barracks, hen-coops, negro cabins, andbarns were turned into hospitals. The floors were littered with"corn-shucks" and fodder; and the maimed, gashed, and dying layconfusedly together. A few, slightly wounded, stood at windows, relatingincidents of the battle; but at the doors sentries stood with crossedmuskets, to keep out idlers and gossips. The mention of my vocation wasan "open sesame, " and I went unrestrained, into all the largesthospitals. In the first of these an amputation was being performed, andat the door lay a little heap of human fingers, feet, legs, and arms. Ishall not soon forget the bare-armed surgeons, with bloody instruments, that leaned over the rigid and insensible figure, while the comrades ofthe subject looked horrifiedly at the scene. The grating of themurderous saw drove me into the open air, but in the second hospitalwhich I visited, a wounded man had just expired, and I encountered hisbody at the threshold. Within, the sickening smell of mortality wasalmost insupportable, but by degrees I became accustomed to it. Thelanterns hanging around the room streamed fitfully upon the red eyes, and half-naked figures. All were looking up, and saying, in pleadingmonotone: "Is that you, doctor?" Men with their arms in slings wentrestlessly up and down, smarting with fever. Those who were wounded inthe lower extremities, body, or head, lay upon their backs, tossing evenin sleep. They listened peevishly to the wind whistling through thechinks of the barn. They followed one with their rolling eyes. Theyturned away from the lantern, for it seemed to sear them. Soldiers satby the severely wounded, laving their sores with water. In many woundsthe balls still remained, and the discolored flesh was swollenunnaturally. There were some who had been shot in the bowels, and nowand then they were frightfully convulsed, breaking into shrieks andshouts. Some of them iterated a single word, as, "doctor, " or "help, " or"God, " or "oh!" commencing with a loud spasmodic cry, and continuing thesame word till it died away in cadence. The act of calling seemed tolull the pain. Many were unconscious and lethargic, moving their fingersand lips mechanically, but never more to open their eyes upon the light;they were already going through the valley and the shadow. I think, still, with a shudder, of the faces of those who were told mercifullythat they could not live. The unutterable agony; the plea for somebodyon whom to call; the longing eyes that poured out prayers; the lookingon mortal as if its resources were infinite; the fearful looking to theimmortal as if it were so far off, so implacable, that the dying appealwould be in vain; the open lips, through which one could almost look atthe quaking heart below; the ghastliness of brow and tangled hair; theclosing pangs; the awful _quietus_. I thought of Parrhasius, in thepoem, as I looked at these things:--

 "Gods! Could I but paint a dying groan----. "

And how the keen eye of West would have turned from the reeking cockpitof the _Victory_, or the tomb of the Dead Man Restored, to this oldbarn, peopled with horrors. I rambled in and out, learning to look atdeath, studying the manifestations of pain, --quivering and sickening attimes, but plying my avocation, and jotting the names for my column ofmortalities. 

At eleven o'clock there was music along the high-road, and a generalrushing from camps. The victorious regiments were returning fromHanover, under escort, and all the bands were pealing national airs. Asthey turned down the fields towards their old encampments, the severalbrigades stood under arms to welcome them, and the cheers were many andvigorous. But the solemn ambulances still followed after, and the redflag of the hospitals flaunted bloodily in the blue midnight. 

Both the prisoners and the wounded were removed between midnight andmorning to White House, and as I had despatches to forward by themail-boat, I rode down in an ambulance, that contained six wounded menbesides. The wounded were to be consigned to hospital boats, andforwarded to hospitals in northern cities, and the prisoners were to beplaced in a transport, under guard, and conveyed to Fort Delaware, nearPhiladelphia. 

Ambulances, it may be said, incidentally, are either two-wheeled orfour-wheeled. Two-wheeled ambulances are commonly called "hop, step, andjumps. " They are so constructed that the forepart is either very high orvery low, and may be both at intervals. The wounded occupants may becompelled to ride for hours in these carriages, with their heelselevated above their heads, and may finally be shaken out, or have theirbones broken by the terrible jolting. The four-wheeled ambulances arebuilt in shelves, or compartments, but the wounded are in danger ofbeing smothered in them. It was in one of these latter that I rode, sitting with the driver. We had four horses, but were thrice "swamped"on the road, and had to take out the wounded men once, till we couldstart the wheels. Two of these men were wounded in the face, one of themhaving his nose completely severed, and the other having a fragment ofhis jaw knocked out. A third had received a ball among the thews andmuscles behind his knee, and his whole body appeared to be paralyzed. Two were wounded in the shoulders, and the sixth was shot in the breast, and was believed to be injured inwardly, as he spat blood, and sufferedalmost the pain of death. The ride with these men, over twenty miles ofhilly, woody country, was like one of Dante's excursions into theShades. In the awful stillness of the dark pines, their screamsfrightened the hooting owls, and the whirring insects in the leaves andtree-tops quieted their songs. They heard the gurgle of the rills, andcalled aloud for water to quench their insatiate thirst. One of themsang a shrill, fierce, fiendish ballad, in an interval of relief, butplunged, at a sudden relapse, in prayers and curses. We heard themgroaning to themselves, as we sat in front, and one man, it seemed, wasquite out of his mind. These were the outward manifestations; but whatchords trembled and smarted within, we could only guess. What regretsfor good resolves unfulfilled, and remorse for years misspent, madehideous these sore and panting hearts? The moonlight pierced through thethick foliage of the wood, and streamed into our faces, like invitationsto a better life. But the crippled and bleeding could not see or feelit, --buried in the shelves of the ambulance. 

CHAPTER XI. 

BALLOON BATTLES. 

Some days ago, as I was sitting in Central Park, under a tree no biggerthan Jonah's gourd, broiling nicely brown, and seasoning the process byreading what the lesser weeklies said about me, I saw at the Park gate agreat phantasm, like a distended sausage, swaying to and fro as ifstriving to burst, and directly the horrible thing blew upwards, spilling all the stuffing from the case. 

I saw in a moment that the apparition was a balloon, and that theaeronaut was only emptying ballast. 

Straight toward me the floating vessel came, so close to the ground thatI could hear the silk crackle and the ropes creak, till, directly, a manleaned over the side and shouted--

"Is that you, Townsend?"

"Hallo, Lowe!"

"I want you to get on your feet and be spry about it: we have a literaryparty here, and wish you to write it up. I'll let one bag of ballast go, as we touch the grass, and you must leap in simultaneously. Thump!"

Here the car collided with the ground, and in another instant, I foundquantities of dirt spilled down my back, and two or three people lyingbeneath me. The world slid away, and the clouds opened to receive me. Lowe was opening a bottle of Heidsick, and three or four gentlemen with_heads sick_ were unclosing the petals of their lips to get theafternoon dew. 

These were the various critics and fugitive writers of the weekly anddaily press. They looked as if they wanted to put each other over theside of the car, but smothered their invective at my advent, as if Iwere so much pearl-ash. 

It was just seven o'clock, and the Park lay like a veined and mottledblood-stone in the red sunset. The city wilted to the littleness of arare mosaic pin, its glittering point parting the blue scarf of the bay, and the white bosom of the ocean swelling afar, all draped with purpleclouds like golden hair, in which the entangled gems were the sails ofthe white ships. 

I said this aloud, and all the party drew their lead pencils. Theyforgot the occasion in my eloquence, and wanted to report me. 

Just here, I drew a field-glass from the aeronaut, and reconnoitred thestreets of the city. To my dismay there was nobody visible on Broadwaybut gentlemen. I called everybody's attention to the fact, and it wasaccounted for on the supposition that the late bank forgeries anddefalcations, growing out of the extravagance of womankind, had promptedall the husbands to make of their homes nunneries. 

We observed, however, close by every gentleman, something that resembleda black dog with his tail curled over his back. 

"Stuff!" said one, "they're hay wagons. "

"No!" cried Lowe, "they're nothing of the sort; they are waterfalls, andthe ladies are, of course, invisible under them. "

We accepted the explanation, and thought the trip very melancholy. Nolandscape is complete without a woman. Very soon we struck the greatpolar current, and passed Harlem river; the foliage of the trees, bysome strange anomaly, began to ascend towards us, but Lowe caught twoor three of the supposed leaves, and they proved to be greenbacks. 

There was at once a tremendous sensation in the car; we knew that wewere on the track of Ketchum and his carpet-bag of bank-notes. 

"Is there any reward out?" cried Lowe. 

"Not yet!"

"Then we won't pursue him. "

As we slowly drifted to the left, the Hudson shone through the trees, and before dusk we swept across Lake Mahopec. I heard a voice singing tothe dip of oars, and had to be held down by five men to restrain aninvoluntary impulse to quit my company. 

"Townsend, " said Lowe, "have you the copy of that matter you printedabout me in England? This is the time to call you to account for it. Weare two or three miles above _terra firma_, and I might like to drop youfor a parachute. "

I felt Lowe's muscle, and knew myself secure. Then I unrolled the pages, which I fortunately carried with me, and told him the following newsabout himself:--

The aeronaut of the Army of the Potomac was Mr. S. T. C. Lowe; he hadmade seven thousand ascensions, and his army companion was invariablyeither an artist, a correspondent, or a telegrapher. 

A minute insulated wire reached from the car to headquarters, andMcClellan was thus informed of all that could be seen within theConfederate works. Sometimes they remained aloft for hours, makingobservations with powerful glasses, and once or twice the enemy testedtheir distance with shell. 

On the 13th of April, the Confederates sent up a balloon, the first theyhad employed, at which Lowe was infinitely amused. He said that it hadneither shape nor buoyancy, and predicted that it would burst or fallapart after a week. It certainly occurred that, after a few fitfulappearances, the stranger was seen no more, till, on the 28th of June, it floated, like a thing of omen, over the spires of Richmond. At thattime the Federals were in full retreat, and all the acres were coveredwith their dead. 

On the 11th of April, at five o'clock, an event at once amusing andthrilling occurred at our quarters. The commander-in-chief had appointedhis personal and confidential friend, General Fitz John Porter, toconduct the siege of Yorktown. Porter was a polite, soldierly gentleman, and a native of New Hampshire, who had been in the regular army sinceearly manhood. He fought gallantly in the Mexican war, being thricepromoted and once seriously wounded, and he was now forty years ofage, --handsome, enthusiastic, ambitious, and popular. He made frequentascensions with Lowe, and learned to go aloft alone. One day he ascendedthrice, and finally seemed as cosily at home in the firmament as uponthe solid earth. It is needless to say that he grew careless, and onthis particular morning leaped into the car and demanded the cables tobe let out with all speed. I saw with some surprise that the flurriedassistants were sending up the great straining canvas with a single ropeattached. The enormous bag was only partially inflated, and the loosefolds opened and shut with a crack like that of a musket. Noisily, fitfully, the yellow mass rose into the sky, the basket rocking like aleather in the zephyr; and just as I turned aside to speak to a comrade, a sound came from overhead, like the explosion of a shell, and somethingstriking me across the face laid me flat upon the ground. 

Half blind and stunned, I staggered to my feet, but the air seemed fullof cries and curses. Opening my eyes ruefully, I saw all faces turnedupwards, and when I looked above, --the balloon was adrift. 

The treacherous cable, rotted with vitriol, had snapped in twain; onefragment had been the cause of my downfall, and the other trailed, likea great entrail, from the receding car, where Fitz John Porter wasbounding upward upon a Pegasus that he could neither check nor direct. 

The whole army was agitated by the unwonted occurrence. From battery No. 1, on the brink of the York, to the mouth of Warwick river, everysoldier and officer was absorbed. Far within the Confederate lines theconfusion extended. We heard the enemy's alarm-guns, and directly thesignal flags were waving up and down our front. 

The General appeared directly over the edge of the car. He was tossinghis hands frightenedly, and shouting something that we could notcomprehend. 

"O--pen--the--valve!" called Lowe, in his shrill tones;"climb--to--the--netting--and--reach--the--valve--rope. "

"The valve!--the valve!" repeated a multitude of tongues, and all gazedwith thrilling interest at the retreating hulk that still kept straightupward, swerving neither to the east nor the west. 

It was a weird spectacle, --that frail, fading oval, gliding against thesky, floating in the serene azure, the little vessel swinging silentlybeneath, and a hundred thousand martial men watching the loss of theirbrother in arms, but powerless to relieve or recover him. Had Fitz JohnPorter been drifting down the rapids of Niagara, he could not have beenso far from human assistance. But we saw him directly, no bigger than achild's toy, clambering up the netting and reaching for the cord. 

"He can't do it, " muttered a man beside me; "the wind blows thevalve-rope to and fro, and only a spry, cool-headed fellow can catchit. "

We saw the General descend, and appearing again over the edge of thebasket, he seemed to be motioning to the breathless hordes below, thestory of his failure. Then he dropped out of sight, and when we next sawhim, he was reconnoitring the Confederate works through a long blackspy-glass. A great laugh went up and down the lines as this coolprocedure was observed, and then a cheer of applause ran from group togroup. For a moment it was doubtful that the balloon would float ineither direction; it seemed to falter, like an irresolute being, andmoved reluctantly southeastward, towards Fortress Monroe. A huzza, halfuttered, quivered on every lip. All eyes glistened, and some were dimwith tears of joy. But the wayward canvas now turned due westward, andwas blown rapidly toward the Confederate works. Its course was fitfullydirect, and the wind seemed to veer often, as if contrary currents, conscious of the opportunity, were struggling for the possession of thedaring navigator. The south wind held mastery for awhile, and theballoon passed the Federal front amid a howl of despair from thesoldiery. It kept right on, over sharpshooters, rifle-pits, andoutworks, and finally passed, as if to deliver up its freight, directlyover the heights of Yorktown. The cool courage, either of heroism ordespair, had seized upon Fitz John Porter. He turned his black glassupon the ramparts and masked cannon below, upon the remote camps, uponthe beleaguered town, upon the guns of Gloucester Point, and upondistant Norfolk. Had he been reconnoitring from a secure perch at thetip of the moon, he could not have been more vigilant, and theConfederates probably thought this some Yankee device to peer into theirsanctuary in despite of ball or shell. None of their great guns could bebrought to bear upon the balloon; but there were some discharges ofmusketry that appeared to have no effect, and finally even thesedemonstrations ceased. Both armies in solemn silence were gazing aloft, while the imperturbable mariner continued to spy out the land. 

The sun was now rising behind us, and roseate rays struggled up to thezenith, like the arcs made by showery bombs. They threw a hazyatmosphere upon the balloon, and the light shone through the networklike the sun through the ribs of the skeleton ship in the _AncientMariner_. Then, as all looked agape, the air-craft "plunged, and tacked, and veered, " and drifted rapidly toward the Federal lines again. 

The allelujah that now went up shook the spheres, and when he hadregained our camp limits, the General was seen clambering up again toclutch the valve-rope. This time he was successful, and the balloon felllike a stone, so that all hearts once more leaped up, and the cheerswere hushed. Cavalry rode pell-mell from several directions, to reachthe place of descent, and the General's personal staff galloped past melike the wind, to be the first at his debarkation. I followed the throngof soldiery with due haste, and came up to the horsemen in a fewminutes. The balloon had struck a canvas tent with great violence, felling it as by a bolt, and the General, unharmed, had disentangledhimself from innumerable folds of oiled canvas, and was now the cynosureof an immense group of people. While the officers shook his hands, therabble bawled their satisfaction in hurrahs, and a band of musicmarching up directly, the throng on foot and horse gave him a vociferousescort to his quarters. 

Five miles east of Richmond, in the middle of May, we found the balloonalready partially inflated, resting behind a ploughed hill that formedone of a ridge or chain of hills, bordering the Chickahominy. The streamwas only a half-mile distant, but the balloon was sheltered fromobservation by reason of its position in the hollow. 

Heretofore the ascensions had been made from remote places, for therewas good reason to believe that batteries lined the opposite hills; butnow, for the first time, Lowe intended to make an ascent whereby hecould look into Richmond, count the forts encircling it, and note thenumber and position of the camps that intervened. The balloon was namedthe "Constitution, " and looked like a semi-distended boa-constrictor, asit flapped with a jerking sound, and shook its oiled and painted folds. It was anchored to the ground by stout ropes affixed to stakes, and alsoby sand-bags which hooked to its netting. The basket lay alongside; thegenerators were contained in blue wooden wagons, marked "U. S. ;" andthe gas was fed to the balloon through rubber and metallic pipes. A tentor two, a quantity of vitriol in green and wicker carboys, some horsesand transportation teams, and several men that assisted the inflation, were the only objects to be remarked. As some time was to transpirebefore the arrangements were completed, I resorted to one of the tentsand took a comfortable nap. The "Professor" aroused me at three o'clock, when I found the canvas straining its bonds, and emitting a hollowsound, as of escaping gas. The basket was made fast directly, thetelescopes tossed into place; the Professor climbed to the side, holdingby the network; and I coiled up in a rope at the bottom. 

"Stand by your cables, " he said, and the bags of ballast were at oncecut away. Twelve men took each a rope in hand, and played out slowly, letting us glide gently upward. The earth seemed to be falling away, andwe poised motionless in the blue ether. The tree-tops sank downward, thehills dropped noiselessly through space, and directly the Chickahominywas visible beyond us, winding like a ribbon of silver through the ridgylandscape. 

Far and wide stretched the Federal camps. We saw faces turned upwardsgazing at our ascent, and heard clearly, as in a vacuum, the voices ofsoldiers. At every second the prospect widened, the belt of horizonenlarged, remote farmhouses came in view; the earth was like a perfectlyflat surface, painted with blue woods, and streaked with pictures ofroads, fields, fences, and streams. As we climbed higher, the riverseemed directly beneath us, the farms on the opposite bank were plainlydiscernible, and Richmond lay only a little way off, enthroned on itsmany hills, with the James stretching white and sinuous from its feet tothe horizon. We could see the streets, the suburbs, the bridges, theoutlaying roads, nay, the moving masses of people. The Capitol sat whiteand colossal on Shockoe Hill, the dingy buildings of the Tredegar worksblackened the river-side above, the hovels of rockets clustered at thehither limits, and one by one we made out familiar hotels, publicedifices, and vicinities. The fortifications were revealed in part only, for they took the hue of the soil, and blended with it; but many campswere plainly discernible, and by means of the glasses we separated tentfrom tent, and hut from hut. The Confederates were seen running to thecover of the woods, that we might not discover their numbers, but weknew the location of their camp-fires by the smoke that curled towardus. 

A panorama so beautiful would have been rare at any time, but this wasthrice interesting from its past and coming associations. Across thoseplains the hordes at our feet were either to advance victoriously, or bedriven eastward with dusty banners and dripping hands. Those whitefarm-houses were to be receptacles for the groaning and the mangled;thousands were to be received beneath the turf of those pasture fields;and no rod of ground on any side, should not, sooner or later, smokewith the blood of the slain. 

"Guess I got 'em now, jest where I want 'em, " said Lowe, with agratified laugh; "jest keep still as you mind to, and squint your eyethrough my glass, while I make a sketch of the roads and the country. Hold hard there, and anchor fast!" he screamed to the people below. Thenhe fell imperturbably to work, sweeping the country with his hawk-eye, and escaping nothing that could contribute to the completeness of hisjotting. 

We had been but a few minutes thus poised, when close below, from theedge of a timber stretch, puffed a volume of white smoke. A secondafterward, the air quivered with the peal of a cannon. A third, and weheard the splitting shriek of a shell, that passed a little to our left, but in exact range, and burst beyond us in the ploughed field, heavingup the clay as it exploded. 

"Ha!" said Lowe, "they have got us foul! Haul in the cables--quick!" heshouted, in a fierce tone. 

At the same instant, the puff, the report, and the shriek were repeated;but this time the shell burst to our right in mid-air, and scatteredfragments around and below us. 

"Another shot will do our business, " said Lowe, between his teeth; "itisn't a mile, and they have got the range. "

Again the puff and the whizzing shock. I closed my eyes, and held mybreath hard. The explosion was so close, that the pieces of shell seemeddriven across my face, and my ears quivered with the sound. I looked atLowe, to see if he was struck. He had sprung to his feet, and clutchedthe cordage frantically. 

"Are you pulling in there, you men?" he bellowed, with a loudimprecation. 

"Puff! bang! whiz-z-z-z! splutter!" broke a third shell, and my heartwas wedged in my throat. 

I saw at a glimpse the whole bright landscape again. I hoard the voicesof soldiers below, and saw them running across fields, fences, andditches, to reach our anchorage. I saw some drummer-boys digging in thefield beneath for one of the buried shells. I saw the waving of signalflags, the commotion through the camps, --officers galloping theirhorses, teamsters whipping their mules, regiments turning out, drumsbeaten, and batteries limbered up. I remarked, last of all, the site ofthe battery that alarmed us, and, by a strange sharpness of sight andsense, believed that I saw the gunners swabbing, ramming, and aiming thepieces. 

"Puff! bang! whiz-z-z-z! splutter! crash!"

"Puff! bang! whiz-z-z-z! splutter! crash!"

"My God!" said Lowe, hissing the words slowly and terribly, "_they haveopened upon us from another battery_!"

The scene seemed to dissolve. A cold dew broke from my forehead. I grewblind and deaf. I had fainted. 

"Pitch some water in his face, " said somebody. "He ain't used to it. Hallo! there he comes to. "

I staggered to my feet. There must have been a thousand men about us. They were looking curiously at the aeronaut and me. The balloon layfuming and struggling on the clods. 

"Three cheers for the Union bal-loon!" called a little fellow at myside. 

"Hip, hip--hoorooar! hoorooar! hoorooar!"

"Tiger-r-r--yah! whoop!"

CHAPTER XII. 

SEVEN PINES AND FAIROAKS. 

Returning from White House on Saturday, May 29, I heard the cannon of"Seven Pines. " The roar of artillery came faintly upon the ear in thedells and woods, but in the open stretches of country, or from clearedhill-tops, I could hear also the volleys of musketry. It was the battlesound that assured me of bloody work; for the musket, as I had learnedby experience, was the only certain signification of battle. It isseldom brought into requisition but at close quarters, when results areintended; whereas, cannon may peal for a fortnight, and involve no otherdestruction than that of shell and powder. I do not think that any throbof my heart was unattended by some volley or discharge. Dull, hoarse, uninterrupted, the whole afternoon was shaken by the sound. It was witha shudder that I thought how every peal announced flesh and bone rivenasunder. The country people, on the way, stood in their side yards, anxiously listening. Riders or teamsters coming from the field, werebeset with inquiries; but in the main they knew nothing. As I stopped atDaker's for dinner, the concussion of the battle rattled our plates, andthe girls entirely lost their appetites, so that Glumley, who listenedand speculated, observed that the baby face was losing all the lines ofart, and was quite flat and faded in color. Resuming our way, weencountered a sallow, shabby person, driving a covered wagon, whorecognized me at once. It was the "Doctor" who had lightened thejourney down the Chesapeake, by a discourse upon embalming. He pointedtoward the field with a long bony finger, and called aloud, with a smirkupon his face--

"I have the apparatus here, you see. They will need me out yonder, youknow. There's opportunity there for the development of the 'system. '"

I did not reach my own camp at Gaines's Farm, till late in the day. Thefiring had almost entirely ceased, but occasional discharges still brokethe repose of evening, and at night signal rockets hissed and showeredin every direction. Next day the contest recommenced; but although notfarther in a direct line, than seven miles, from our encampment, I couldnot cross the Chickahominy, and was compelled to lie in my tent all day. 

These two battles were offered by the Confederates, in the hope ofcapturing that portion of the Federal army that lay upon the Richmondside of the river. Some days previously, McClellan had ordered Keyes'scorps, consisting of perhaps twelve thousand men, to cross BottomBridge, eight miles down the Chickahominy, and occupy an advancedposition on the York River railroad, six miles east of Richmond. Keyes'stwo divisions, commanded by Generals Couch and Casey, were thus encampedin a belt of woods remote from the body of the army, and little morethan a mile from the enemy's line. Heintzelman's corps was lying at theBridge, several miles in their rear, and the three finest corps in thearmy were separated from them by a broad, rapid river, which could becrossed at two places only. The troops of Keyes were mainlyinexperienced, undisciplined volunteers from the Middle States. Whentheir adversaries advanced, therefore, in force, on the twenty-ninthinstant, they made a fitful, irregular resistance, and at eveningretired in panic and disorder. The victorious enemy followed them soclosely, that many of the Federals were slain in their tents. Duringthat night, the Chickahominy, swollen by rains, overflowed its banks, and swept away the bridges. The beaten and disorganized relic of thefight of "Seven Pines, " was thus completely isolated, and apparently tobe annihilated at daybreak. But during the night, twenty thousand freshmen of Sumner's corps, forded the river, carrying their artillery, pieceby piece across, and at dawn they assumed the offensive, seconded by theencouraged columns of Keyes. The fight was one of desperation; at nightthe Federals reoccupied their old ground at Fairoaks, and theConfederates retired, leaving their dead and wounded on the field. Theylost, among their prisoners, General Pettigrew, of South Carolina, whowas severely wounded, and with whom I talked as he lay in bed atGaines's Mansion. He appeared to be a chivalrous, gossipy old gentleman, and said that he was the last South Carolinian to stand by the Union. 

On the succeeding day, Monday, June 2, I rode to "Grape-Vine Bridge, "and attempted to force my horse through the swamp and stream; but thedrowned mules that momentarily floated down the current, admonished meof the folly of the hazard. The bridge itself was a swimming mass ofpoles and logs, that yielded with every pressure; yet I saw many woundedmen, who waded through the water, or stepped lightly from log to log, and so gained the shore, wet from head to foot. Long lines of supplyteams and ambulances were wedged in the depth of the thick wood, bordering the river; but so narrow were the corduroy approaches to thebridge, and so fathomless the swamp on either hand, that they couldneither go forward, nor return. The straggling troops brought theunwelcome intelligence, that their comrades on the other side werestarving, as they had crossed with a single ration of food, and had longago eaten their last morsels. While I was standing close by the bridge, General McClellan, and staff, rode through the swamp, and attempted tomake the passage. The "young Napoleon, " urged his horse upon thefloating timber, and at once sank over neck and saddle. His staffdashed after him, floundering in the same way; and when they hadsplashed and shouted, till I believed them all drowned, they turned andcame to shore, dripping and discomfited. There was another Napoleon, who, I am informed, slid down the Alps into Italy; the presentdescendant did not slide so far, and he shook himself, after the mannerof a dog. I remarked with some surprise, that he was growing obese;whereas, the active labors of the campaign had reduced the dimensions ofmost of the Generals. 

I secured my horse, and placed a drummer-boy beside him, to preventabduction or mistake; then stripping from top to toe, and holding mygarments above my head, I essayed the difficult passage; as acommencement, I dropped my watch, but the guard-hook caught in a log andheld it fast. Afterward, I slipped from the smooth butt of a tree, andthoroughly soused myself and clothing; a lumber-man from Maine, beheldmy ill luck, and kindly took my burden to the other side. An estuary ofthe Chickahominy again intervened, but a rough scow floated upon it, which the Captain of Engineers sent for me, with a soldier to man theoars. I neglected to "trim boat, " I am sorry to add, although admonishedto that effect repeatedly by the mariner; and we swamped in four feet ofwater. I resembled a being of one of the antediluvian eras, when I cameto land, finally, and might have been taken for a slimy Iguanodon. Isacrificed some of my under clothing to the process of cleansing anddrying, and so started with soaking boots, and a deficiency of dress, inthe direction of Savage's. Passing the "bottom, " or swamp-land, Iascended a hill, and following a lane, stopped after a half hour at aframe-mansion, unpainted, with some barns and negro-quarters contiguous, and a fine grove of young oaks, shading the porch. An elderly gentlemansat in the porch, sipping a julep, with his feet upon the railing, andconversing with a stout, ruddy officer, of decidedly Milesianphysiognomy. When I approached, the latter hurriedly placed a chairbetween himself and me, and said, with a stare--

"Bloodanowns! And where have ye been? Among the hogs, I think?" Iassured him that I did not intend to come to close quarters, and that itwould be no object on my part to contaminate him. The old gentlemancalled for "William, " a tall, consumptive servant, whose walk remindedme of a stubborn convict's, in the treadmill, and ordered him to scrapeme, which was done, accordingly, with a case-knife. The young officerproposed to dip me in the well and wring me well out, but I demurred, mainly on the ground that some time would be so consumed, and that myhorse was waiting on the other side. He at once said that he would sendfor it, and called "Pat, " a civilian servant, in military blue, who wasnursing a negro baby with an eye, it seemed, to obtain favor with themother. The willingness of the man surprised me, but he said that it wasa short cut of four miles to the railroad bridge, which had beenrepaired and floored, and that he could readily recover the animal andreturn at three o'clock. My benefactor, the officer, then mixed a julep, which brought a comfortable glow to my face, and said, without parley--

"You're a reporter, on the----"

He said further, that he had been Coroner's Surgeon in New York for manyyears, and had learned to know the representatives of newspapers, onefrom the other, by generic manner and appearance. Three correspondentsrode by at the time, neither of whom he knew personally, but designatedthem promptly, with their precise connections. In short, we becamefamiliar directly, and he told me that his name was O'Gamlon, Quartermaster of Meagher's Irish brigade, Sumner's corps. He wasestablished with the elderly gentleman, --whose name was Michie, --and hadtwo horses in the stable, at hand. He proposed to send me to the field, with a note of introduction to the General, and another to ColonelBaker, of the New York 88th (Irish), who could show me the lines andrelics of battle, and give me the lists of killed, wounded, and missing. I repaired to his room, and arrayed myself in a fatigue officer's suit, with clean underclothing, after which, descending, I climbed into hissaddle, and dashed off, with a mettlesome, dapper pony. The railroadtrack was about a mile from the house, and the whole country, hereabout, was sappy, dank, and almost barren. Scrub pines covered much of thesoil, and the cleared fields were dotted with charred stumps. The houseswere small and rude; the wild pigs ran like deer through the bushes andacross my path; vultures sailed by hundreds between me and the sky; thelane was slippery and wound about slimy pools; the tree-tops, in manyplaces, were splintered by ball and shell. I crossed the railroad, cutby a high bridge, and saw below the depot, at Savage's, now thehead-quarters of General Heintzelman. Above, in full view, were thecommands at Peach Orchard and Fairoaks, and to the south, a few furlongsdistant, the Williamsburg and Richmond turnpike ran, parallel with therailway, toward the field of Seven Pines. The latter site, was simplythe junction of the turnpike with a roundabout way to Richmond, calledthe "Nine Mile Road, " and Fairoaks was the junction of the divergingroad with the railroad. Toward the latter I proceeded, and soon came tothe Irish brigade, located on both sides of the way, at Peach Orchard. 

They occupied the site of the most desperate fighting. 

A small farm hollowed in the swampy thicket and wood, was here dividedby the track, and a little farm-house, with a barn, granary, and acouple of cabins, lay on the left side. In a hut to the right GeneralThomas Francis Meagher made his head-quarters, and a little beyond, inthe edges of the swamp timber, lay his four regiments, under arms. 

A guard admonished me, in curt, lithe speech, that my horse must come nofurther; for the brigade held the advance post, and I was even nowwithin easy musket range of the imperceptible enemy. An Irish boyvolunteered to hold the rein, while I paid my respects to the Commander. I encountered him on the threshold of the hut, and he welcomed me in therichest and most musical of brogues. Large, corpulent, and powerful ofbody; plump and ruddy--or as some would say, bloated--of face; withresolute mouth and heavy animal jaws; expressive nose, and piercingblue-eyes; brown hair, mustache, and eyebrows; a fair forehead, andshort sinewy neck, a man of apparently thirty years of age, stood in thedoorway, smoking a cigar, and trotting his sword fretfully in thescabbard. He wore the regulation blue cap, but trimmed plentifully withgold lace, and his sleeves were slashed in the same manner. A starglistened in his oblong shoulder-bar; a delicate gold cord seamed hisbreeches from his Hessian boots to his red tasselled sword-sash; aseal-ring shone from the hand with which he grasped his gauntlets, andhis spurs were set upon small aristocratic feet. 

A tolerable physiognomist would have resolved his temperament to anintense sanguine. He was fitfully impulsive, as all his movementsattested, and liable to fluctuations of peevishness, melancholy, andenthusiasm. This was "Meagher of the Sword, " the stripling who madeissue with the renowned O'Connell, and divided his applauses; the"revolutionist, " who had outlived exile to become the darling of the"Young Ireland" populace in his adopted country; the partisan, whosefierce, impassioned oratory had wheeled his factious element of theDemocracy into the war cause; and the soldier, whose gallant bearing atBull Run had won him a brigadiership. He was, to my mind, a realizationof the Knight of Gwynne, or any of the rash, impolitic, poeticpersonages in Lever and Griffin. Ambitious without a name; an adventurerwithout a definite cause; an orator without policy; a General withoutcaution or experience, he had led the Irish brigade through the hottestbattles, and associated them with the most brilliant episodes of thewar. 

Every adjunct of the place was strictly Hibernian. The emerald greenstandard entwined with the red, white, and blue; the gilt eagles on theflag-poles held the Shamrock sprig in their beaks; the soldiers loungingon guard, had "69" or "88" the numbers of their regiments, stamped on agreen hat-band; the brogue of every county from Down to Wexford fellupon the ear; one might have supposed that the "year '98" had beenrevived, and that these brawny Celts were again afield against theirSaxon countrymen. The class of lads upon the staff of Meagher, was anodd contrast to the mass of staff officers in the "Grand Army. "Fox-hunters they all seemed to me, and there was one, who wore a long, twisted, pomatumed moustache, who talked of steeple chases, all thewhile, and wanted to have "a healthy dash" of some kind. A class ofIrish exquisites, they appeared to be, --good for a fight, a card-party, or a hurdle jumping, --but entirely too Quixotic for the soberrequirements of Yankee warfare. When anything absurd, forlorn, ordesperate was to be attempted, the Irish brigade was called upon. But, ordinarily, they were regarded, as a party of mad fellows, moreornamental than useful, and entirely too clannish and factious to beentrusted with power. Meagher himself seemed to be less erratic than hissubordinates; for he had married a New York lady, and had learned, byobservation, the superiority of the pelfish, plodding native before hisown fitful, impracticable race. His address was infatuating: but therewas a certain airiness, indicative of vanity, that revealed his greatcharacteristic. He loved applause, and to obtain it had frittered awayhis fine abilities, upon petty, splendid, momentary triumphs. He wasgenerous to folly, and, I have no doubt, maintained his whole staff. 

When I requested to be shown the field, and its relics, Meagher said, inhis musical brogue, that I need only look around. 

"From the edge of that wood, " he said, "the Irish brigade charged acrossthis field, and fell upon their faces in the railway cutting below. Aregiment of Alabamians lay in the timber beyond, with other Southernersin their rear, and on both flanks. They thought that we were chargingbayonets, and reserved their fire till we should approach withinbutchering distance. On the contrary, I ordered the boys to lie down, and load and fire at will. In the end, sir, we cut them to pieces, andfive hundred of them were left along the swamp fence, that you see. There isn't fifty killed and wounded in the whole Irish brigade. "

A young staff officer took me over the field. We visited first thecottage and barns across the road, and found the house occupied by somethirty wounded Federals. They lay in their blankets upon thefloors, --pale, helpless, hollow-eyed, making low moans at every breath. Two or three were feverishly sleeping, and, as the flies revelled upontheir gashes, they stirred uneasily and moved their hands to and fro. Bythe flatness of the covering at the extremities, I could see thatseveral had only stumps of legs. They had lost the sweet enjoyment ofwalking afield, and were but fragments of men, to limp forever through apainful life. Such wrecks of power I never beheld. Broad, brawny, buoyant, a few hours ago, the loss of blood, and the nervous shock, attendant upon amputation, has wellnigh drained them to the last drop. Their faces were as white as the tidy ceiling; they were whining likebabies; and only their rolling eyes distinguished them from mutilatedcorpses. Some seemed quite broken in spirit, and one, who could speak, observing my pitiful glances toward his severed thigh, drew up his mouthand chin, and wept as if with the loss of comeliness all his ambitionswere frustrated. A few attendants were brushing off the insects withboughs of cedar, laving the sores, or administering cooling draughts. The second story of the dwelling was likewise occupied by wounded, butin a corner clustered the terrified farmer and his family, vainlyattempting to turn their eyes from the horrible spectacle. The farmer'swife had a baby at her breast, and its little blue eyes were strayingover the room, half wonderingly, half delightedly. I thought, with ashudder, of babyhood thus surrounded, and how, in the long future, itsfirst recollections of existence should be of booming guns and dyingsoldiers! The cow-shed contained seven corpses, scarcely yet cold, lyingupon their backs, in a row, and fast losing all resemblance to man. Thefarthest removed, seemed to be a diminutive boy, and I thought if he hada mother, that she might sometime like to speak with me. When I tooktheir names, I thought what terrible agencies I was fulfilling. Beyondmy record, falsely spelled, perhaps, they would have no history. Andpeople call such deaths glorious!

Upon a pile of lumber and some heaps of fence-rails, close by, sat somedozens of wounded men, mainly Federals, with bandaged arms and faces, and torn clothing. There was one, shot in the foot, who howled at everyeffort to remove his boot; the blood leaked from a rent in the side, andat last, the leather was cut, piecemeal from the flesh. These atevoraciously, though in pain and fear; for a little soup and meat wasbeing doled out to them. 

The most horrible of all these scenes--which I have described perhapstoo circumstantially--was presented in the stable or barn, on thepremises, where a bare dingy floor--the planks of which tilted andshook, as one made his way over them--was strewn with suffering people. Just at the entrance sat a boy, totally blind, both eyes having beentorn out by a minnie-ball, and the entire bridge of the nose shot away. He crouched against the gable, in darkness and agony, tremulouslyfingering his knees. Near at hand, sat another, who had been shotthrough the middle of the forehead, but singular to relate, he stilllived, though lunatic, and evidently beyond hope. Death had drawn blueand yellow circles beneath his eyes, and he muttered incomprehensibly, wagging his head. Two men, perfectly naked, lay in the middle of theplace, wounded in bowels and loins; and at a niche in theweather-boarding, where some pale light peeped in, four mutilatedwretches were gaming with cards. I was now led a little way down therailroad, to see the Confederates. The rain began to fall at this time, and the poor fellows shut their eyes to avoid the pelting of the drops. There was no shelter for them within a mile, and the mud absolutelyreached half way up their bodies. Nearly one third had sufferedamputation above the knee. There were about thirty at this spot, and Iwas told that they were being taken to Meadow Station on hand cars. Assoon as the locomotive could pass the Chickahominy, they would beremoved to White House, and comfortably quartered in the Sanitary andhospital boats. Some of them were fine, athletic, and youthful, and Iwas directed to one who had been married only three days before. 

"Doctor, " said one, feebly, "I feel very cold: do you think that this isdeath? It seems to be creeping to my heart. I have no feeling, in myfeet, and my thighs are numb. "

A Federal soldier came along with a bucket of soup, and proceeded tofill the canteens and plates. He appeared to be a relative of MarkTapley, and possessed much of that estimable person's jollity--

"Come, pardner, " he said, "drink yer sup! now, old boy, this'ill warmye; sock it down and ye'll see yer sweetheart soon. You dead, Ally-bammy? Go way, now. You'll live a hundred years, you will. That'swot you'll do. Won't he, lad? What? Not any? Get out! You'll be slap onyour legs next week and hev another shot at me the week a'ter that. Youknow you will! Oh! you Rebil! You, with the butternut trousers! Say!Wake up and take some o' this. Hello! lad, pardner. Wake up!"

He stirred him gently with his foot; he bent down to touch his face. Agrimness came over his merriment. The man was stiff and dumb. 

Colonel Baker, commanding the 88th New York, was a tall, martialIrishman, who opened his heart and bottle at the same welcome, and tookme into the woods, where some of the slain still remained. He had sleptnot longer than an hour, continuously, for seventy hours, and during thepast night had been called up by eight alarums. His men lay in the darkthickets, without fires or blankets, as they had crossed theChickahominy in light marching order. 

"Many a lad, " said he, "will escape the bullet for a lingeringconsumption. "

We had proceeded but a very little way, when we came to a trodden placebeneath the pines, where a scalp lay in the leaves, and the imprint of abody was plainly visible. The bayonet scabbard lay at one side, thecanteen at the other. We saw no corpses, however, as fatigue parties hadbeen burying the slain, and the whole wood was dotted with heaps ofclay, where the dead slept below in the oozy trenches. Quantities ofcartridges were scattered here and there, dropped by the retreatingConfederates. Some of the cartridge-pouches that I examined werecompletely filled, showing that their possessors had not fired a singleround; others had but one cartridge missing. There were fragments ofclothing, hair, blankets, murderous bowie and dirk knives, spurs, flasks, caps, and plumes, dropped all the way through the thicket, andthe trees on every hand were riddled with balls. I came upon a squirrel, unwittingly shot during the fight. Not those alone who make the war mustfeel the war! At one of the mounds the burying party had just completedtheir work, and the men were throwing the last clods upon the remains. They had dug pits of not more than two feet depth, and dragged thebodies heedlessly to the edges, whence they were toppled down andscantily covered. Much of the interring had been done by night, and theflare of lanterns upon the discolored faces and dead eyes must havebeen hideously effective. The grave-diggers, however, were practicalpersonages, and had probably little care for dramatic effects. Theyleaned upon their spades, when the rites were finished, and a large, dryperson, who appeared to be privileged upon all occasions, said, grinningly--

"Colonel, your honor, them boys 'ill niver stand forninst the Irishbrigade again. If they'd ha' known it was us, sur, begorra! they 'ud ha'brought coffins wid 'em. "

"No, niver!" "They got their ticket for soup!" "We kivered them, fait', will inough!" shouted the other grave-diggers. 

"Do ye belave, Colonel, " said the dry person, again, "that thimribals'll lave us a chance to catch them. Be me sowl! I'm jist wishin towar-rum me hands wid rifle practice. "

The others echoed loudly, that they were anxious to be ordered up, andsome said that "Little Mac'll give 'em his big whack now. " The presenceof death seemed to have added no fear of death to these people. Havingtasted blood, they now thirsted for it, and I asked myself, forebodingly, if a return to civil life would find them less ferocious. 

I dined with Colonel Owen of the 69th Pennsylvania (Irish) volunteers. He had been a Philadelphia lawyer, and was, by all odds, the mostconsistent and intelligent soldier in the brigade. He had been also aschoolmaster for many years, but appeared to be in his element at thehead of a regiment, and was generally admitted to be an efficientofficer. He shared the prevailing antipathy to West Point graduates; forat this time the arrogance of the regular officers, and the pride of thevolunteers, had embittered each against the other. His theory ofmilitary education was, the establishment of State institutions, and thereorganization of citizenship upon a strict militia basis. After dinner, I rode to "Seven Pines, " and examined some of the rifle pits used duringthe engagement. A portion of this ground only had been retaken, and Iwas warned to keep under cover; for sharpshooters lay close by, in theunderbrush. A visit to the graves of some Federal soldiers completed theinspection. Some of the regiments had interred their dead in trenches;but the New Englanders were all buried separately, and smooth slabs weredriven at the heads of the mounds, whereon were inscribed the names andages of the deceased. Some of the graves were freshly sodded, andenclosed by rails and logs. They evidenced the orderly, religious habitsof the sons of the Puritans; for, with all his hardness of manner andselfishness of purpose, I am inclined to think that the Yankee is thebest manifestation of Northern character. He loves his home, at least, and he reveres his deceased comrades. 

When I returned to Michie's, at six o'clock, the man "Pat, " with aglowing face, came out to the gate. 

"That's a splendid baste of yours, sur, " he said, --"and sich a boi togallop. "

"My horse doesn't generally gallop, " I returned, doubtfully. 

When I passed to the barn in the rear, I found to my astonishment, asorrel stallion, magnificently accoutred. He thrust his foot at mesavagely, as I stood behind him, and neighed till he frightened thespiders. 

"Pat, " said I, wrathfully, "you have stolen some Colonel's nag, and Ishall be hanged for the theft. "

"Fait, sur, " said Pat, "my ligs was gone intirely, wid long walkin', andI sazed the furst iligant baste I come to. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

STUART'S RAID. 

The old Chickahominy bridges were soon repaired, and the whole ofFranklin's corps crossed to the south side. McClellan moved hishead-quarters to Dr. Trent's farm, a half-mile from Michie's, and thelatter gentleman's fields and lawn were made white with tents. Amongothers, the Chief of Cavalry, Stoneman, pitched his canopy under theyoung oaks, and the whole reserve artillery was parked in the woods, close to the house. The engineer brigade encamped in the adjacentpeach-orchard and corn-field, and the wheat was trampled by battery andteam-horses. Smith's division now occupied the hills on the south sideof the Chickahominy, and the Federal line stretched southeastward, through Fairoaks, to White Oak Swamp, seven miles away. Porter's corpsstill lay between Mechanicsville and New Bridge, on the north bank ofthe river, and my old acquaintances, the Pennsylvania Reserves, hadjoined the army, and now formed its extreme right wing. This oddarrangement of forces was a subject of frequent comment: for the rightwas thus four miles, and the left fourteen miles, from Richmond. Thefour corps at once commenced to entrench, and from Smith's redoubt onthe river bluffs, to Casey's entrenched hill at White Oak, a continuousline of moderately strong earthworks extended. But Porter and theReserves were not entrenched at all, and only a few horsemen werepicketed across the long reach of country from Meadow Bridge to HanoverCourt House. Both flanks, in fact, were open, and the left was a day'smarch from the right. We were, meantime, drawing our supplies from WhiteHouse, twenty miles in the rear; there were no railroad guards along theentire line, and about five companies protected the grand depot. Twogunboats lay in the river, however, and as the teams still went to andfro, a second depot was established at a place called Putney's or"Garlic, " five miles above White House. I went often, and at all hoursof the day and night, over this exposed and lonely route. My horse hadbeen, meantime, returned to the Provost Quarters, and the rightful ownerhad obtained his stallion in exchange. I rode the said stallion butonce, when he proceeded to walk sideways, and several times rivalled therenowned Pegasus in his aerial flights. The man named "Pat" essayed toshow his paces one day, but the stallion took him straight intoStoneman's wall-tent, and that officer shook the Irishman blind. Mylittle bob-tailed brownie was thrice endeared to me by our separation;but I warned the man "Pat" to keep clear of him thereafter. The man"Pat" was a very eccentric person, who slept on the porch at Michie's, and used to wake up the house in the small hours, with the story thatsomebody was taking the chickens and the horses. He was the mostimpulsive person that I ever knew, and when I entrusted despatches tohim once, he put them on the hospital boat by mistake, and they got toNew York at the close of the campaign. 

Michie's soon became a correspondents' rendezvous, and we have had atone time, at dinner, twelve representatives of five journals. The Hon. Henry J. Raymond, Ex-Lieutenant Governor of New York, and proprietor ofthe _Times_ newspaper, was one of our family for several weeks. He hadbeen a New Hampshire lad, and, strolling to New York, took to journalismat the age of nineteen years. His industry and probity obtained him bothmeans and credit, and, also, what few young journalists obtain, socialposition. He was the founder of Harper's Magazine, one of the mostsuccessful serials in America, and many English authors are indebted tohim for a trans-Atlantic recognition of their works. He edited anAmerican edition of _Jane Eyre_ before it had attracted attention inEngland, and conducted the _Courier and Enquirer_ with great success formany years. The _Times_ is now the most reputable of the great New Yorkdailies, and Mr. Raymond has made it influential both at home andabroad. He has retained, amidst his social and political successes, apredilection for "Bohemia, " and became an indefatigable correspondent. Irode out with him sometimes, and heard, with interest, his accounts ofthe Italian war, whither he also went in furtherance of journalism. Among our quill cavalry-men was a fat gentleman from Philadelphia, whohad great fear of death, and who used to "tear" to White House, if theman "Pat" shot a duck in the garden. He was a hearty, humorous person, however, and an adept at searching for news. 

O'Ganlon rode with me several times to White House, and we have crossedthe railroad bridge together, a hundred feet in the air, when the plankswere slippery, the sides sloping, and the way so narrow that two horsescould not pass abreast. He was a true Irishman, and leaped barricadesand ditches without regard to his neck. He had, also, a partiality forby-roads that led through swamps and close timber. He discovered one daya cow-path between Daker's and an old Mill at Grapevine Bridge. The longarms of oaks and beech trees reached across it, and young Absalom mighthave been ensnared by the locks at every rod therein. Through thisdevious and dangerous way, O'Ganlon used to dash, whooping, guiding hishorse with marvellous dexterity, and bantering me to follow. I so farforgot myself generally, as to behave quite as irrationally, and oncereturned to Michie's with a bump above my right eye, that rivalled myhead in size. At other times I rode alone, and my favorite route was anunfrequented lane called the "Quaker Road, " that extended from DespatchStation, on the line of rail, to Daker's, on the New Bridge Road. Muchof this way was shut in by thick woods and dreary pine barrens; but theroad was hard and light, and a few quiet farms lay by the roadside. There was a mill, also, three miles from Daker's, where a turbulentcreek crossed the route, and at an oak-wood, near by, I used to frightenthe squirrels, so that they started up by pairs and families; I havechased them in this way a full mile, and they seemed to know me after atime. We used to be on the best of terms, and they would, at length, stand their ground saucily, and chatter, the one with the other, flourishing their bushy appendages, like so many straggling "Bucktails. "When I turned from the beaten road, where the ruts were like a ditch andparapet, and dead horses blackened the fields; where teams went creakingday and night, and squads of sabremen drove pale, barefooted prisonersto and fro like swine or cattle, the silence and solitude of thisby-lane were beautiful as sleep. Many of the old people living in thisdirection had not seen even a soldier or a sutler, save some mountedscouts that vanished in clouds of dust; but they had listened with aweto the music of cannon, though they did not know either the place or theresult of the fighting. If fate has ordained me to survive theRebellion, I shall some day revisit these localities; they are stampedlegibly upon my mind, and I know almost every old couple in New Kent orHanover counties. I have lunched at all the little springs on the road, and eaten corn-bread and bacon at most of the cabins. I have swam thePamunkey at dozens of places, and when my finances were low, and my naghungry, have organized myself into a company of foragers, and brokeninto the good people's granaries. I do not know any position thatadmitted of as much adventure and variety. There was always enoughdanger to make my journeys precariously pleasant, and, when wearied ofthe saddle, my friends at Daker's and Michie's had a savory julep and acomfortable bed always prepared. I had more liberty than GeneralMcClellan, and a great deal more comfort. 

Mrs. Michie was a warm-hearted, impulsive Virginia lady, with almost NewEngland industry, and from very scanty materials she contrived to spreada bountiful table. Her coffee was bubbling with rich cream, and her"yellow pone" was overrunning with butter. A cleanly black girl shook afly-brush over our shoulders as we ate, and the curious custom wasmaintained of sending a julep to our bedrooms before we rose in themornings. Our hostess was too hospitable to be a bitter partisan, andduring five weeks of tenure at her residence, we never held an hour'scontroversy. She had troubles, but she endured them patiently. She saw, one by one, articles of property sacrificed or stolen; she heard theservants speaking impudently; and her daughters and son were in a remotepart of the State. The young man was a Confederate Surgeon at Lynchburg, and the young ladies had taken refuge in Rockbridge County. The latterwere, from all accounts, pretty and intelligent, and one day, as Iexamined some parcels of books in the parlors, I found a volume ofamateur poems that some laboring bard had dedicated to the youngest ofthem. Mr. Michie was a fine old Virginia gentleman, who rememberedThomas Jefferson well, as he had been reared in that great statesman'svillage, Charlottesville. He told me many anecdotes of Patrick Henry, John Randolph, and other distinguished patriots. 

I wrote in one of the absent daughter's albums the following lines:--

 Alas! for the pleasant peace we knew, In the happy summers of long ago, When the rivers were bright, and the skies were blue, By the homes of Henrico: We dreamed of wars that were far away, And read, as in fable, of blood that ran, Where the James and Chickahominy stray, Through the groves of Powhattan. 

 'Tis a dream come true; for the afternoons Blow bugles of war, by our fields of grain, And the sabres clink, as the dark dragoons Come galloping up the lane; The pigeons have flown from the eves and tiles, The oat-blades have grown to blades of steel, And the Huns swarm down the leafy aisles Of the grand old Commonweal. 

 They have torn the Indian fisher's nets, Where flows Pamunkey toward the sea, And blood runs red in the rivulets, That babbled and brawled in glee; The corpses are strewn in Fairoak glades, The hoarse guns thunder from Drury's Ridge, The fishes that played in the cove, deep shades, Are frightened from Bottom Bridge. 

 I would that the year were blotted away, And the strawberry grew in the hedge again; That the scythe might swing in the tangled hay, And the squirrel romp in the glen; The walnut sprinkle the clover slopes, Where graze the sheep and the spotted steer; And the winter restore the golden hopes, That were trampled in a year. 

On Friday, June 13, I made one of my customary trips to White House, inthe company of O'Ganlon. The latter individual, in the course of a"healthy dash" that he made down the railroad ties, --whereby two shoesshied from his mare's hoofs, --reined into a quicksand that threatened toswallow his steed. He afterward left his sword at Summit Station, and I, obligingly, rode back three miles to recover it. We dined at Daker's, where Glumley sat beside the baby-face, pursuant to his art-duties, andthe plump, red-cheeked miss sat beside me. O'Ganlon was entertained bythe talkative daughter, who drove him quite mad; so that, when weresumed our horses, he insisted upon a second "healthy dash, " anddisappeared through a strip of woods. I followed, rationally, and hadcome to a blacksmith's shop, at the corner of a diverging road, when Iwas made aware of some startling occurrence in my rear. A mountedofficer dashed past me, shouting some unintelligible tidings, and he wasfollowed in quick succession by a dozen cavalry-men, who rode as if thefoul fiend was at their heels. Then came a teamster, bare-backed, whoserent harness trailed in the road, and directly some wagons that werehalted before the blacksmith's, wheeled smartly, and rattled off towardsWhite House. 

"What is the matter, my man?" I said to one of these lunatics, hurriedly. 

"The Rebels are behind!" he screamed, with white lips, and vanished. 

I thought that it might be as well to take some other road, and sostruck off, at a dapper pace, in the direction of the new landing atPutney's or "Garlic. " At the same instant I heard the crack of carbinesbehind, and they had a magical influence upon my speed. I rode along astretch of chestnut and oak wood, attached to the famous Webb estate, and when I came to a rill that passed by a little bridge, under the way, turned up its sandy bed and buried myself in the under-brush. A fewbreathless moments only had intervened, when the roadway seemed shakenby a hundred hoofs. The imperceptible horsemen yelled like a war-partyof Camanches, and when they had passed, the carbines rang ahead, as ifsome bloody work was being done at every rod. 

I remained a full hour under cover; but as no fresh approaches added tomy mystery and fear, I sallied forth, and kept the route to Putney's, with ears erect and expectant pulses. I had gone but a quarter of amile, when I discerned, through the gathering gloom, a black, misshapenobject, standing in the middle of the road. As it seemed motionless, Iventured closer, when the thing resolved to a sutler's wagon, charredand broken, and still smoking from the incendiaries' torch. Further on, more of these burned wagons littered the way, and in one place two slainhorses marked the roadside. When I emerged upon the Hanover road, soundsof shrieks and shot issued from the landing at "Garlic, " and, in amoment, flames rose from the woody shores and reddened the evening. Iknew by the gliding blaze that vessels had been fired and set adrift, and from my place could see the devouring element climbing rope andshroud. In a twinkling, a second light appeared behind the woods to myright, and the intelligence dawned upon me that the cars and houses atTunstall's Station had been burned. By the fitful illumination, I rodetremulously to the old head-quarters at Black Creek, and as Iconjectured, the depot and train were luridly consuming. The vicinitywas marked by wrecked sutler's stores, the embers of wagons, and toppledsteeds. Below Black Creek the ruin did not extend: but when I came toWhite House the greatest confusion existed. Sutlers were taking downtheir booths, transports were slipping their cables, steamers movingdown the stream. Stuart had made the circuit of the Grand Army to showLee where the infantry could follow. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

FEVER DREAMS IN WAR. 

A subtle enemy had of late joined the Confederate cause against theinvaders. He was known as Pestilence, and his footsteps were so softthat neither scout nor picket could bar his entrance. His paths weresubterranean, --through the tepid swamp water, the shallow graves of thedead; and aerial, --through the stench of rotting animals, the nightlymiasms of bog and fen. His victims were not pierced, or crushed, ormangled, but their deaths were not less terrible, because morelingering. They seemed to wither and shrivel away; their eyes became atfirst very bright, and afterward lustreless; their skins grew hard andsallow; their lips faded to a dry whiteness; all the fluids of the bodywere consumed; and they crumbled to corruption before life had fairlygone from them. 

This visitation has been, by common consent, dubbed "the Chickahominyfever, " and some have called it the typhus fever. The troops called itthe "camp fever, " and it was frequently aggravated by affections of thebowels and throat. The number of persons that died with it was fabulous. Some have gone so far as to say that the army could have better affordedthe slaughter of twenty thousand men, than the delay on theChickahominy. The embalmers were now enjoying their millennium, and asteam coffin manufactory was erected at White House, where twenty menworked day and night, turning out hundreds of pine boxes. I had, occasion, in one of my visits to the depot, to repair to the tent of oneof the embalmers. He was a sedate, grave person, and when I saw him, standing over the nude, hard corpse, he reminded me of the implacablevulture, looking into the eyes of Prometheus. His battery and tube werepulsing, like one's heart and lungs, and the subject was being drainedat the neck. I compared the discolored body with the figure of _Ianthe_, as revealed in Queen Mab, but failed to see the beautifulness of death. 

"If you could only make him breathe, Professor, " said an officerstanding by. 

The dry skin of the embalmer broke into chalky dimples, and he grinnedvery much as a corpse might do:--

"Ah!" he said, "_then_ there would be money made. "

To hear these embalmers converse with each other was like listening tothe witch sayings in Macbeth. It appeared that the arch-fiend ofembalming was a Frenchman named Sonça, or something of that kind, andall these worthies professed to have purchased his "system. " They toldgrisly anecdotes of "operations, " and experimented with chemicals, andcongratulated each other upon the fever. They would, I think, have piledthe whole earth with catacombs of stony corpses, and we should have nomore green graves, but keep our dead with us as household ornaments. 

The negroes did not suffer with the fever, although their quarters wereclose and filthy. Their Elysium had come; there was no more work. Theyslept and danced and grinned, and these three actions made up the sum oftheir existence. Such people to increase and multiply I never beheld. There were scores of new babies every day; they appeared to be born bytwins and triplets; they learned to walk in twenty-four hours; and theirmothers were strong and hearty in less time. Such soulless, lost, degraded men and women did nowhere else exist. The divinity they neverhad; the human they had forgotten; they did no great wrongs, --thieving, quarrelling, deceiving, --but they failed to do any rights, and theirworship was animal, and almost profane. They sang incongruous mixturesof hymns and field songs:--

 "Oh! bruddern, watch an' pray, _watch_ an' pray! De harvest am a ripenin' our Lord an' Marser say! Oh! ho! yo! dat ole coon, de serpent, ho! oh! Watch an' pray!"

I have heard them sing such medleys with tears in their eyes, apparentlyfervid and rapt. A very gray old man would lead off, keeping time to thewords with his head and hands; the mass joining in at intervals, andraising a screaming alleluja. Directly they would all rise, link hands, and proceed to dance the accompaniment. The motion would be slow atfirst, and the method of singing maintained; after a time they wouldmove more rapidly, shouting the lines together; and suddenly becomingconvulsed with strange excitement, they would toss up their arms, leap, fall, groan, and, seemingly, lose consciousness. Their prayers wereearnest and vehement, but often degenerated to mere howls and noises. Some of both sexes had grand voices, that rang like bugles, and the veryimpropriety of their music made it fascinating. It used to seem to methat any of the great composers might have borrowed advantageously someof those original negro airs. In many cases, their owners came withinthe lines, registered their allegiance, and recovered the negroes. Thesewere often veritable Shylocks, that claimed their pounds of flesh, withunblushing reference to the law. The poor Africs went back cowed andtearful, and it is probable that they were afterward sent to the farSouth, that terrible _terra incognita_ to a border slave. 

Among the houses to which I resorted was that of a Mr. Hill, one milefrom White House. He had a thousand acres of land and a valuable fisheryon the Pamunkey. The latter was worth, in good seasons, two thousanddollars a year. He had fished and farmed with negroes; but these hadleagued to run away, and he sent them across the river to a second farmthat he owned in King William County. It was at Hill's house that thewidow Custis was visiting when young Washington reined at the gate, onhis road to Williamsburg. With reverent feelings I used to regard theold place, and Hill frequently stole away from his formidable militaryhousehold, to talk with me on the front porch. Perhaps in the samemoonlights, with the river shimmering at their feet, and the grapevineshadowing the creaky corners, --their voices softened, their chairs drawnvery close, their hands touching with a thrill, --the young soldier andhis affianced had made their courtship. I sometimes sat breathless, thinking that their figures had come back, and that I heard themwhispering. 

Hill was a Virginian, --large, hospitable, severe, proud, --and once Iventured to speak upon the policy of slavery, with a view to develop hisown relation to the "institution. " He said, with the swaggering mannerof his class, that slavery was a "domestic" institution, and thattherefore no political law could reach it. I insinuated, quietly, thatno political law should therefore sustain it, and took exception to theidea that what was domestic was therefore without the province oflegislation. When I exampled polygamy, Hill became passionate, and askedif I was an abolitionist. I opined that I was not, and he so farrelented as to say that slavery was sanctioned by divine and human laws;that it was ultimately to be embraced by all white nationalities, andthat the Caucasian was certain, in the end, to subjugate and possessevery other race. He pointed, with some shrewdness, to the condition ofthe Chinese in California and Australia, and epitomized the gradualenslaving of the Mongol and Malay in various quarters of the world. 

"As to our treatment of niggers, " he said, curtly, "I never prevaricate, as some masters do, in that respect. I whip my niggers when they wantit! If they are saucy, or careless, or lazy, I have 'em flogged. Abouttwice a year every nigger has to be punished. If they ain't roped overtwice a year, they take on airs and want to be gentlemen. A nigger isbound by no sentiment of duty or affection. You must keep him in trim byfear. "

Among the victims of the swamp fever, were Major Larrabee, andLieutenant-Colonel Emory, of the Fifth Wisconsin regiment; I had beenindebted to them for many a meal and draught of spirits. I had talkedwith each of them, when the camps were darkened and the soldiery asleep. Larrabee was a soldier by nature, --adventurous, energetic, intrepid, aggressive. He had been a country Judge in Wisconsin, and afterwards amember of Congress. When the war commenced, he enlisted as a commonsoldier, but public sentiment forced the State Government to make him aMajor. Emory was a mild, reflective, unimpassioned gentleman, --toomodest to be eminent, too scrupulous to be ambitious. The men wereopposites, but both capital companions, and they were seized with thefever about the same time. The Major was removed to White House, and Ivisited him one day in the hospital quarters. Surgeon General Watson, hospital commandant, took me through the quarters; there was quite atown of sick men; they lay in wall-tents--about twenty in a tent, --andthere were daily deaths; those that caught the fever, were afterwardsunfit for duty, as they took relapses on resuming the field. The tentswere pitched in a damp cornfield; for the Federals so reverenced theirnational shrines, that they forbade White House and lawn to be used forhospital purposes. Under the best circumstances, a field hospital is acomfortless place; but here the sun shone like a furnace upon the tents, and the rains drowned out the inmates. If a man can possibly avoid it, let him never go to the hospital: for he will be called a "skulker, " ora "shyster, " that desires to escape the impending battle. Twenty hot, feverish, tossing men, confined in a small tent, like an oven, andexposed to contumely and bad food, should get a wholesome horror of warand glory. 

So far as I could observe and learn, the authorities at White Housecarried high heads, and covetous hands. In brief, they lived likeprinces, and behaved like knaves. There was one--whose conduct has neverbeen investigated--who furnished one of the deserted mansions near by, and brought a lady from the North to keep it in order. He drove a spanthat rivalled anything in Broadway, and his wines were luscious. Hisestablishment reminded me of that of Napoleon III. In the late Italianwar, and yet, this man was receiving merely a Colonel's pay. Myimpression is that everybody at White House robbed the Government, andin the end, to cover their delinquencies, these scoundrels set fire toan immense quantity of stores, and squared their accounts thus: "Burnedon the Pamunkey, June 28, commissary, quartermaster's, and hospitalstores, one million dollars. "

The time was now drawing to a close that I should pass amid the familiarscenes of this region. The good people at Daker's were still kindly; buthaving climbed into the great bed one night, I found my legs aching, mybrain violently throbbing, my chest full of pain and my eyes weak. WhenI woke in the morning my lips were fevered, I could eat nothing, andwhen I reached my saddle, it seemed that I should faint. In a word, theChickahominy fever had seized upon me. My ride to New Bridge was markedby great agony, and during much of the time I was quite blind. I turnedoff, at Gaines's Mill, to rest at Captain Kingwalt's; but the oldgentleman was in the grip of the ague, and I forebore to trouble himwith a statement of my grievances. Skyhiski made me a cup of tea, whichI could not drink, and Fogg made me lie on his "poncho. " It was like oldtimes come back, to hear them all speak cheerfully, and the man Cloversaid that if there "warn't" a battle soon, he knew what he'd do, hedid! he'd go home, straight as a buck!

"Becoz, " said the man Clover, flourishing his hands, "I volunteered tofight. To _fight_, sir! not to dig and drive team. Here we air, sir, stuck in the mud, burnin' with fever, livin' on hardtack. And thair'sRichmond! Just thair! You can chuck a stone at it, if you mind to. A'terawhile them rebbils'll pop out, and fix us. Why ain't we led up, sa-a-y?"

The man Clover represented common sentiment among the troops at thistime; but I told him that in all probability he would soon be gratifiedwith a battle. My prediction was so far correct, that when I met the manClover on the James River, a week afterward, he said, with a ruefulcountenance--

"Sa-a-a-y! It never rains but it pours, does it?"

As I rode from the camp of the Pennsylvania Reserves, at noon, on the21st of June, I seemed to feel a gloomy premonition of the calamitiesthat were shortly to fall upon the "Army of the Potomac. " I passed infront of Hogan house; through the wood above the mill; along Gaines'sLane, between his mansion and his barn; across a creek, tributary to theChickahominy; and up the ploughed hills by a military road, towardGrapevine Bridge. Lieutenant-Colonel Heath, of the Fifth Maine Regiment, was riding with me, and we stopped at the tip of an elevated field tolook back upon the scene. I was very sick and weary, and I lay my headupon the mane of my nag, while Heath threw a leg across his saddlepommel, and straightened his slight figure; we both gazed earnestly. 

The river lay in the hollow or ravine to the left, and a few farm-housessat among the trees on the hill-tops beyond. A battery was planted ateach house, and we could see the lines of red-clay parapets marking thesites. From the roof of one of the houses floated a speck ofcanvas, --the revolutionary flag. A horseman or two moved shadow-likeacross a slope of yellow grain. Before and back the woods belted thelandscape, and some pickets of both sides paced the river brink: theydid not fire upon each other. 

Our side of the Chickahominy was not less peaceful. A couple ofbatteries lay below us, in the meadows; but the horses were dozing inthe harness, and the gunners, standing bolt upright at the breech, seemed parts of their pieces; the teamsters lay grouped in the longgrass. Immediately in front, Gaines's Mansion and outhouses spotted ahillside, and we could note beyond a few white tents shining through thetrees. The roof of the old mill crouched between a medley of wavy fieldsand woods, to our right, and just at our feet a tiny rill dividedGaines's Mill from our own. Behind us, over the wilderness of swamp andbog-timber, rose Smith's redoubt, with the Federal flag flaunting fromthe rampart. 

"Townsend, " said Heath, as he swept the whole country with his keen eye, "do you know that we are standing upon historic ground?"

He had been a poet and an orator, and he seemed to feel the solemnity ofthe place. 

"It may become historic to-morrow, " I replied. 

"It is so to-day, " he said, earnestly; "not from battle as yet; _that_may or may not happen; but in the pause before the storm there issomething grand; and this is the pause. "

He took his soft beaver in his hand, and his short red hair stoodpugnaciously back from his fine forehead. 

"The men that have been here already, " he added, "consecrated the place;young McClellan, and bluff, bull-headed Franklin; the one-armed devil, Kearney, and handsome Joe Hooker; gray, gristly Heintzelman;white-bearded, insane Sumner; Stuart, Lee, Johnston, the Hills----"

"Why not, " said I, laughingly, "Eric the red, --the redoubtable Heath!"

"Why not?" he said, with a flourish; "Fate may have something in storefor me, as well as for these. "

I have thought, since, how terribly our light conversation foundverification in fact. If I had said to Heath, that, at the very moment, Jefferson Davis and his Commander-in-chief were sitting in the dwellingopposite, reconnoitring and consulting; that, even now, their telescopeswere directed upon us; that the effect of their counsel was to bemanifest in less than a week; that one of the bloodiest battles ofmodern times was to be fought beside and around us; that six days of themost terrible fighting known in history were to ensue; that my friendand comrade was standing upon the same clods which would be reddened, athis next coming, with his heart's blood; and that the trenches were toyawn beneath his hoofs, to swallow himself and his steed, --if I hadforetold these things as they were to occur, I wonder if the "pausebefore the storm" would have been less awful, and our ride campward lesssedate. Poor Heath! Gallant New Englander! he called at my bedside, thesixth day following, as I lay full of pain, fear, and fever, and afterhe bade me good by, I heard his horse's hoofs ringing down the lane. Tenminutes afterward he was shot through the head. 

When I reached Michie's, at three o'clock, I had to be helped from thesaddle, and the fever was raging in my whole body before nightfall. Myhands were flushed, my face hot, but my feet were quite cold, and I wasseized with chills that seemed to shake my teeth from my head. Mrs. Michie made me a bowl of scorching tea, and one of the black-girlsbathed my limbs in boiling water. The fever dreams came to me thatnight, in snatches of burning sleep, and toward morning I lay restlesslyawake, moving from side to side, famishing for drink, but rejecting it, when they brought it to my lips. The next day, my kind hostess gave mesome nourishing soup, but after a vain effort to partake of it, I wascompelled to put it aside. O'Ganlon procured some pickled fruit andvegetables from a sutler, which I ate voraciously, quaffing the vinegarlike wine. Some of my regimental friends heard of my illness, and theysent me quiet luxuries, which gladdened me, though I did not eat. Duringthe day I had some moments of ease, when I tried to read. There was acopy of Wordsworth's poems in the house, and I used to repeat stanzasfrom "Peter Bell, " till they rang, in eddies of rhyme, through my weakbrain, and continued to scan and jangle far into the nights. Some ofthese fever-dreams were like delusions in delirium: peopled withmonsters, that grinned and growled. Little black globules used to leerfrom corners, and after a time they began to revolve toward me, increasing as they came, and at length rolling like mountains of surge. I frequently woke with a scream, and found my body in profuseperspiration. There were fiery snakes, also, that, at first, movedslowly around me, and I followed them with red and terrified eyes. Afterawhile they flashed in circles of lightning, and hissed showers ofsparks, until I became quite crazed with fear. The most horribleapparitions used to come to my bedside, and if I dropped to sleep withany thought half formed or half developed, the odd half of that thoughtbecame impregnated, somehow, and straightway loomed up a goblin, or agiant, or a grotesque something, that proceeded to torture me, like asort of Frankenstein, for having made it. Amid all these ghastly things, there came beautiful glimpses of form, scene, and sensation, thatstraightway changed to horrors. I remember, for example, that I wasgliding down a stream, where the boughs overhead were as shady as thewaters, and there were holy eyes that seemed to cool my fever; butsuddenly the stream became choked with corpses, that entangled theirdead limbs with mine, until I strangled and called aloud, --waking upO'Ganlon and some reporters who proposed to give me morphine, that Imight not alarm the house. 

How the poor soldiers fared, in the hot hospitals, I shudder to think;but a more merciful decree spared my life, and kind treatment met me atevery hand. Otherwise, I believe, I should not be alive to-day to writethis story; for the fever had seized me in its severest form, and I hadalmost tutored myself to look upon my end, far from my home and on thevery eve of my manhood. 

O'Ganlon, at last, resolved to send me to White House, and startedthither one day, to obtain a berth for me upon a Sanitary steamer. Thenext day an ambulance came to the door. I tried to sit up in bed, andsucceeded; I feebly robed myself and staggered to the stairs. I crawled, rather than walked, to the hall below; but when I took a chair, and feltthe cool breeze from the oaks fanning my hair, I seemed to know that Ishould get well. 

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" pealed some cannon at the moment, and all thewindows shook with the concussion. 

Directly we heard volleys of musketry, and then the camps were astir. Horses went hither and thither; signal flags flashed to-and-fro; abattery of the Reserve Artillery dashed down the lane. 

I felt my strength coming back with the excitement; I even smiled feeblyas the guns thundered past. 

"Take away your ambulance, old fellow, " I said, "I shan't go home till Isee a battle. "

CHAPTER XV. 

TWO DAYS OF BATTLE. 

The Confederates had been waiting two months for McClellan's advance. Emboldened by his delay they had gathered the whole of their availablestrength from remote Tennessee, from the Mississippi, and from thecoast, until, confident and powerful, they crossed Meadow Bridge on the26th of June, 1862, and drove in our right wing at Mechanicsville. Thereserves of Gen. McCall were stationed here; they made a waveringresistance, --wherein four companies of Bucktails were capturedbodily, --and fell back at nightfall upon Porter's Corps, at Gaines'sMill. Fitz John Porter commanded the brigades of Gens. Sykes andMorrell, --the former made up solely of regulars. He appeared to havebeen ignorant of the strength of the attacking party, and he telegraphedto McClellan, early on Thursday evening, that he required noreinforcements, and that he could hold his ground. The next morning hewas attacked in front and flank; Stewart's cavalry fell on his right, and turned it at Old Church. He formed at noon in new line of battle, from Gaines's House, along the Mill Road to New Coal Harbor; butstubbornly persisted in the belief that he could not be beaten. By threeo'clock he had been driven back two miles, and all his energies wereunavailing to recover a foot of ground. He hurled lancers and cavalryupon the masses of Jackson and the Hills, but the butternut infantryformed impenetrable squares, hemmed in with rods of steel, and as thehorsemen galloped around them, searching for previous points, they wereswept from their saddles with volleys of musketry. He directed theterrible fire of his artillery upon them, but though the gray footmenfell in heaps, they steadily advanced, closing up the gaps, and theirlines were like long stretches of blaze and ball. Their fire neverslackened nor abated. They loaded and moved forward, column on column, like so many immortals that could not be vanquished. The scene from theballoon, as Lowe informed me, was awful beyond all comparison, --ofpuffing shells and shrieking shrapnel, with volleys that shattered thehills and filled the air with deathly whispers. Infantry, artillery, andhorse turned the Federal right from time to time, and to preserve theirorder of battle the whole line fell back toward Grapevine Bridge. Atfive o'clock Slocum's Division of volunteers crossed the creek from thesouth side, and made a desperate dash upon the solid columns of theConfederates. At the same time Toombs's Georgia Brigade charged Smith'sredoubt from the south side, and there was a probability of the whole ofboth armies engaging before dark. 

My fever of body had so much relinquished to my fever of mind, that atthree o'clock I called for my horse, and determined to cross the bridge, that I might witness the battle. 

It was with difficulty that I could make my way along the narrowcorduroy, for hundreds of wounded were limping from the field to thesafe side, and ammunition wagons were passing the other way, driven byreckless drivers who should have been blown up momentarily. Before I hadreached the north side of the creek, an immense throng of panic-strickenpeople came surging down the slippery bridge. A few carried muskets, butI saw several wantonly throw their pieces into the flood, and as themass were unarmed, I inferred that they had made similar dispositions. Fear, anguish, cowardice, despair, disgust, were the predominantexpressions of the upturned faces. The gaunt trees, towering from thecurrent, cast a solemn shadow upon the moving throng, and as the eveningdimness was falling around them, it almost seemed that they wereengulfed in some cataract. I reined my horse close to the side of ateam, that I might not be borne backward by the crowd; but some of thelawless fugitives seized him by the bridle, and others attempted to pullme from the saddle. 

"Gi' up that hoss!" said one, "what business you got wi' a hoss?"

"That's my critter, and I am in for a ride; so you get off!" saidanother. 

I spurred my pony vigorously with the left foot, and with the rightstruck the man at the bridle under the chin. The thick column partedleft and right, and though a howl of hate pursued me, I kept straight tothe bank, cleared the swamp, and took the military route parallel withthe creek, toward the nearest eminence. At every step of the way I metwounded persons. A horseman rode past me, leaning over his pommel, withblood streaming from his mouth and hanging in gouts from his saturatedbeard. The day had been intensely hot and black boys were besetting thewounded with buckets of cool lemonade. It was a common occurrence forthe couples that carried the wounded on stretchers to stop on the way, purchase a glass of the beverage, and drink it. Sometimes the blanketson the stretchers were closely folded, and then I knew that the manwithin was dead. A little fellow, who used his sword for a cane, stoppedme on the road, and said--

"See yer! This is the ball that jes' fell out o' my boot. "

He handed me a lump of lead as big as my thumb, and pointed to a rent inhis pantaloons, whence the drops rolled down his boots. 

"I wouldn't part with that for suthin' handsome, " he said; "it'll benice to hev to hum. "

As I cantered away he shouted after me--

"Be sure you spell my name right! it's Smith, with an 'E'--S-M-I-T-H-E. "

In one place I met five drunken men escorting a wounded sergeant; thelatter had been shot in the jaw, and when he attempted to speak, theblood choked his articulation. 

"You let go him, pardner, " said one of the staggering brutes, "he's notyour sergeant. Go 'way!"

"Now, sergeant, " said the other, idiotically, "I'll see you all right, sergeant. Come, Bill, fetch him over to the corn-crib and we'll give hima drink. "

Here the first speaker struck the second, and the sergeant, in wrath, knocked them both down. All this time the enemy's cannon were boomingclose at hand. 

I came to an officer of rank, whose shoulder-emblem I could notdistinguish, riding upon a limping field-horse. Four men held him to hisseat, and a fifth led the animal. The officer was evidently wounded, though he did not seem to be bleeding, and the dust of battle hadsettled upon his blanched, stiffening face, like grave-mould upon acorpse. He was swaying in the saddle, and his hair--for he wasbare-headed--shook across his white eyeballs. He reminded me of thefamous Cid, whose body was sent forth to scare the Saracens. 

A mile or more from Grapevine Bridge, on a hill-top, lay a framefarm-house, with cherry trees encircling it, and along the declivity ofthe hill were some cabins, corn-sheds, and corn-bins. The house was nowa Surgeon's headquarters, and the wounded lay in the yard and lane, under the shade, waiting their turns to be hacked and maimed. I caught aglimpse through the door, of the butchers and their victims; somecurious people were peeping through the windows at the operation. As theprocessions of freshly wounded went by, the poor fellows, lying on theirbacks, looked mutely at me, and their great eyes smote my heart. 

Something has been written in the course of the war upon stragglingfrom the ranks, during battle. But I have seen nothing that conveys anadequate idea of the number of cowards and idlers that so stroll off. Inthis instance, I met squads, companies, almost regiments of them. Somecame boldly along the road; others skulked in woods, and made longdetours to escape detection; a few were composedly playing cards, orheating their coffee, or discussing the order and consequences of thefight. The rolling drums, the constant clatter of file andvolley-firing, --nothing could remind them of the requirements of thetime and their own infamy. Their appreciation of duty and honor seemedto have been forgotten; neither hate, ambition, nor patriotism couldforce them back; but when the columns of mounted provosts charged uponthem, they sullenly resumed their muskets and returned to the field. Atthe foot of the hill to which I have referred the ammunition wagons layin long lines, with the horses' heads turned from the fight. A littlebeyond stood the ambulances; and between both sets of vehicles, fatigue-parties were going and returning to and from the field. At thetop of the next hill sat many of the Federal batteries, and I wasadmonished by the shriek of shells that passed over my head and burstfar behind me, that I was again to look upon carnage and share theperils of the soldier. 

The question at once occurred to me: Can I stand fire? Having for somemonths penned daily paragraphs relative to death, courage, and victory, I was surprised to find that those words were now unusually significant. "Death" was a syllable to me before; it was a whole dictionary now. "Courage" was natural to every man a week ago; it was rarer than geniusto-day. "Victory" was the first word in the lexicon of youth yesterdaynoon; "discretion" and "safety" were at present of infinitely moreconsequence. I resolved, notwithstanding these qualms, to venture to thehill-top: but at every step flitting projectiles took my breath. Themusic of the battle-field, I have often thought, should be introducedin opera. Not the drum, the bugle, or the fife, though these arethrilling, after their fashion; but the music of modern ordnance andprojectile, the beautiful whistle of the minie-ball, the howl of shellthat makes unearthly havoc with the air, the whiz-z-z of solid shot, thechirp of bullets, the scream of grape and canister, the yell of immenseconical cylinders, that fall like redhot stoves and spout burning coals. 

All these passed over, beside, beneath, before, behind me. I seemed tobe an invulnerable something at whom some cunning juggler was tossingsteel, with an intent to impinge upon, not to strike him. I rode likeone with his life in his hand, and, so far as I remember, seemed tothink of nothing. No fear, _per se_; no regret; no adventure; onlyexpectancy. It was the expectancy of a shot, a choking, a loud cry, astiffening, a dead, dull tumble, a quiver, and--blindness. But with thiswas mingled a sort of enjoyment, like that of the daring gamester, whohas played his soul and is waiting for the decision of the cards. I feltall his suspense, _more_ than his hope; and withal, there was excitementin the play. Now a whistling ball seemed to pass just under my ear, andbefore I commenced to congratulate myself upon the escape, a shell, witha showery and revolving fuse, appeared to take the top off my head. Thenmy heart expanded and contracted, and somehow I found myself conningrhymes. At each clipping ball, --for I could hear them coming, --a sort ofcoldness and paleness rose to the very roots of my hair, and was thenreplaced by a hot flush. I caught myself laughing, syllabically, andshrugging my shoulders, fitfully. Once, the rhyme that came to mylips--for I am sure there was no mind in the iteration--was the simplenursery prayer--

 "Now I lay me down to sleep, "

I continued to say "down to sleep, " "down to sleep, " "down to sleep, "till I discovered myself, when I ceased. Then a shell, apparently justin range, dashed toward me, and the words spasmodically leaped up:"Now's your time. This is your billet. " With the same insane pertinacityI continued to repeat "Now's your time, now's your time, " and "billet, billet, billet, " till at last I came up to the nearest battery, where Icould look over the crest of the hill; and as if I had looked into thecrater of a volcano, or down the fabled abyss into hell, the whole grandhorror of a battle burst upon my sight. For a moment I could neitherfeel nor think. I scarcely beheld, or beholding did not understand orperceive. Only the roar of guns, the blaze that flashed along a zigzagline and was straightway smothered in smoke, the creek lying glassilybeneath me, the gathering twilight, and the brownish blue of woods! Ionly knew that some thousands of fiends, were playing with fire andtossing brands at heaven, --that some pleasant slopes, dells, andhighlands were lit as if the conflagration of universes had commenced. There is a passage of Holy Writ that comes to my mind as I write, whichexplains the sensation of the time better than I can do:--

"_He opened the bottomless pit; and there arose a smoke out of the pit, as the smoke of a great furnace; and the sun and the air were darkenedby reason of the smoke of the pit. _

"_And there came out of the smoke locusts upon the earth. _"--Revelation, ix. 2, 3. 

In a few moments, when I was able to compose myself, the veil of cloudblew away or dissolved, and I could see fragments of the long columns ofinfantry. Then from the far end of the lines puffed smoke, and from manto man the puff ran down each line, enveloping the columns again, sothat they were alternately visible and invisible. At points between themasses of infantry lay field-pieces, throbbing with rapid deliveries, and emitting volumes of white steam. Now and then the firing slackenedfor a short time, when I could remark the Federal line, fringed withbayonets, stretching from the low meadow on the left, up the slope, overthe ridge, up and down the crest, until its right disappeared in thegloaming of wood and distance. Standards flapped here and there abovethe column, and I knew, from the fact that the line became momentarilymore distinct, that the Federals were falling stubbornly back. At timesa battery would dash a hundred yards forward, unlimber, and fire a scoreof times, and directly would return two hundred yards and blaze again. Isaw a regiment of lancers gather at the foot of a protecting swell offield; the bugle rang thrice, the red pennons went upward like so manysong birds, the mass turned the crest and disappeared, then the wholeartillery belched and bellowed. In twenty minutes a broken, straggling, feeble group of horsemen returned; the red pennons still fluttered, butI knew that they were redder for the blood that dyed them. Finally, theFederal infantry fell back to the foot of the hill on which I stood; allthe batteries were clustering around me, and suddenly a column of menshot up from the long sweep of the abandoned hill, with batteries on theleft and right. Their muskets were turned towards us, a crash and awhiff of smoke swept from flank to flank, and the air around me rainedbuck, slug, bullet, and ball!

The incidents that now occurred in rapid succession were so thrillingand absorbing that my solicitude was lost in their grandeur. I sat likeone dumb, with my soul in my eyes and my ears stunned, watching theterrible column of Confederates. Each party was now straining everyenergy, --the one for victory, the other against annihilation. Thedarkness was closing in, and neither cared to prolong the contest afternight. The Confederates, therefore, aimed to finish their success withthe rout or capture of the Federals, and the Federals aimed to maintaintheir ground till nightfall. The musketry was close, accurate, anduninterrupted. Every second was marked by a discharge, --the one firing, the other replying promptly. No attempt was now made to remove thewounded; the coolness of the fight had gone by, and we witnessed onlyits fury. The stragglers seemed to appreciate the desperate emergency, and came voluntarily back to relieve their comrades. The cavalry wasmassed, and collected for another grand charge. Like a black shadowgliding up the darkening hillside, they precipitated themselves upon thecolumns: the musketry ceased for the time, and shrieks, steel strokes, the crack of carbines and revolvers succeeded. Shattered, humiliated, sullen, the horse wheeled and returned. Then the guns thundered again, and by the blaze of the pieces, the clods and turf were revealed, fitfully strewn with men and horses. 

The vicinity of my position now exhibited traces of the battle. Acaisson burst close by, and I heard the howl of dying wretches, as thefires flashed like meteors. A solid shot struck a field-carriage notthirty yards from my feet, and one of the flying splinters spitted agunner as if he had been pierced by an arrow. An artillery-man wasstanding with folded arms so near that I could have reached to touchhim; a whistle and a thumping shock and he fell beneath my nag's head. Iwonder, as I calmly recall these episodes now, how I escaped the deaththat played about me, chilled me, thrilled me, --but spared me! "They arefixing bayonets for a charge. My God! See them come down the hill. "

In the gathering darkness, through the thick smoke, I saw or seemed tosee the interminable column roll steadily downward. I fancied that Ibeheld great gaps cut in their ranks though closing solidly up, like theimperishable Gorgon. I may have heard some of this next day, and soconfounded the testimonies of eye and ear. But I knew that there was acharge, and that the drivers were ordered to stand by their saddles, torun off the guns at any moment. The descent and bottom below me, werenow all ablaze, and directly above the din of cannon, rifle, andpistol, I heard a great cheer, as of some salvation achieved. 

"The Rebels are repulsed! We have saved the guns!"

A cheer greeted this announcement from the battery-men around me. Theyreloaded, rammed, swabbed, and fired, with naked arms, and drops ofsweat furrowed the powder-stains upon their faces. The horses stoodmotionless, quivering not half so much as the pieces. The gristlyofficers held to their match-strings, smothering the excitement of thetime. All at once there was a running hither and thither, a pause in thethunder, a quick consultation--

"'Sdeath! They have flanked us again. "

In an instant I seemed overwhelmed with men. For a moment I thought theenemy had surrounded us. 

"It's all up, " said one; "I shall cross the river. "

I wheeled my horse, fell in with the stream of fugitives, and was borneswiftly through field and lane and trampled fence to the swampy marginof the Chickahominy. At every step the shell fell in and among thefugitives, adding to their panic. I saw officers who had forgotten theirregiments or had been deserted by them, wending with the mass. Thewounded fell and were trodden upon. Personal exhibitions of valor anddetermination there were; but the main body had lost heart, and wereweary and hungry. 

As we approached the bridge, there was confusion and altercation ahead. The people were borne back upon me. Curses and threats ensued. 

"It is the Provost-guard, " said a fugitive, "driving back the boys. "

"Go back!" called a voice ahead. "I'll blow you to h--ll, if you don'tgo back! Not a man shall cross the bridge without orders!"

The stragglers were variously affected by this intelligence. Some cursedand threatened; some of the wounded blubbered as they leaned languidlyupon the shoulders of their comrades. Others stoically threw themselveson the ground and tried to sleep. One man called aloud that the "boys"were stronger than the Provosts, and that, therefore, the "boys" oughtto "go in and win. "

"Where's the man that wants to mutiny?" said the voice ahead; "let mesee him!"

The man slipped away; for the Provost officer spoke as though he meantall he said. 

"Nobody wants to mutiny!" called others. 

"Three cheers for the Union. "

The wounded and well threw up their hats together, and made a sicklyhurrah. The grim officer relented, and he shouted stentoriously that hewould take the responsibility of passing the wounded. These gatheredthemselves up and pushed through the throng; but many skulkers pleadinjuries, and so escaped. When I attempted to follow, on horseback, hands were laid upon me and I was refused exit. In that hour of terrorand sadness, there were yet jests and loud laughter. However keenly Ifelt these things, I had learned that modesty amounted to little in thearmy; so I pushed my nag steadily forward and scattered the campvernacular, in the shape of imprecations, left and right. 

"Colonel, " I called to the officer in command, as the line of bayonetsedged me in, "may I pass out? I am a civilian!"

"No!" said the Colonel, wrathfully. "This is no place for a civilian. "

"That's why I want to get away. "

"Pass out!"

I followed the winding of the woods to Woodbury's Bridge, --the nextabove Grapevine Bridge. The approaches were clogged with wagons andfield-pieces, and I understood that some panic-stricken people hadpulled up some of the timbers to prevent a fancied pursuit. Along thesides of the bridge many of the wounded were washing their wounds in thewater, and the cries of the teamsters echoed weirdly through the treesthat grew in the river. At nine o'clock, we got under way, --horsemen, batteries, ambulances, ammunition teams, infantry, and finally somegreat siege 32s. That had been hauled from Gaines's House. One of thesepieces broke down the timbers again, and my impression is that it wascast into the current. When we emerged from the swamp timber, the hillsbefore us were found brilliantly illuminated with burning camps. I madetoward head-quarters, in one of Trent's fields; but all the tents saveone had been taken down, and lines of white-covered wagons stretchedsouthward until they were lost in the shadows. The tent of GeneralMcClellan alone remained, and beneath an arbor of pine boughs, close athand, he sat, with his Corps Commanders and Aides, holding a council ofwar. A ruddy fire lit up the historical group, and I thought at thetime, as I have said a hundred times since, that the consultation mightbe selected for a grand national painting. The crisis, the hour, theadjuncts, the renowned participants, peculiarly fit it for pictorialcommemoration. 

The young commander sat in a chair, in full uniform, uncovered. Heintzelman was kneeling upon a fagot, earnestly speaking. De Joinvillesat apart, by the fire, examining a map. Fitz John Porter was standingback of McClellan, leaning upon his chair. Keyes, Franklin, and Sumner, were listening attentively. Some sentries paced to and fro, to keep outvulgar curiosity. Suddenly, there was a nodding of heads, as of somepolicy decided; they threw themselves upon their steeds, and gallopedoff toward Michie's. 

As I reined at Michie's porch, at ten o'clock, the bridges behind mewere blown up, with a flare that seemed a blazing of the NorthernLights. The family were sitting upon the porch, and Mrs. Michie wasgreatly alarmed with the idea that a battle would be fought round herhouse next day. 

O'Ganlon, of Meagher's staff, had taken the fever, and sent anxiouslyfor me, to compare our symptoms. 

I bade the good people adieu before I went to bed, and gave the man"Pat" a dollar to stand by my horse while I slept, and to awake me atany disturbance, that I might be ready to scamper. The man "Pat, " I ambound to say, woke me up thrice by the exclamation of--

"Sure, yer honor, there's--well--to pay in the yard! I think ye and theDoctor had better ride off. "

On each of those occasions, I found that the man Pat had been lonesome, and wanted somebody to speak to. 

What a sleep was mine that night! I forgot my fever. But another and ahotter fever burned my temples, --the fearful excitement of the time!Whither were we to go, cut off from the York, beaten beforeRichmond, --perhaps even now surrounded, --and to be butchered to-morrow, till the clouds should rain blood? Were we to retreat one hundred milesdown the hostile Peninsula, --a battle at every rod, a grave at everyfootstep? Then I remembered the wounded heaped at Gaines's Mill, and howthey were groaning without remedy, ebbing at every pulse, counting theflashing drops, calling for water, for mercy, for death. So I foundheart; for I was not buried yet. And somehow I felt that fate was totake me, as the great poet took Dante, through other and greaterhorrors. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

M'CLELLAN'S RETREAT. 

The scene presented in Michie's lawn and oak grove, on Saturday morning, was terribly picturesque, and characteristic of the calamity of war. Thewell was beset by crowds of wounded men, perishing of thirst, who madefrantic efforts to reach the bucket, but were borne back by the strongerdesperadoes. The kitchen was swarming with hungry soldiers who beggedcorn-bread and half-cooked dough from the negroes. The shady side-yardwas dotted with pale, bruised, and bleeding people, who slept out theirweariness upon the damp grass, forgetful, for the moment, of theirsores. Ambulances poured through the lane, in solemn procession, and nowand then, couples of privates bore by some wounded officer, upon acanvas "stretcher. " The lane proving too narrow, at length, for thepassing vehicles, the gate-posts and fence were torn up, and finally, the soldiers made a footway of the hall of the dwelling. 

The retreat had been in progress all night, as I had heard the wagonsthrough my open windows. By daylight the whole army was acquainted withthe facts, that we were to resign our depot at White House, relinquishthe North bank of the river, and retire precipitately to the shores ofthe James. A rumor--indignantly denied, but as often repeated--prevailedamong the teamsters, surgeons, and drivers, that the wounded were to beleft in the enemy's hands. It shortly transpired that we were alreadycut off from the Pamunkey. A train had departed for White House at dawn, and had delivered its cargo of mortality safely; but a second train, attempting the passage, at seven o'clock had been fired into, andcompelled to return. A tremendous explosion, and a shaft of white smokethat flashed to the zenith, informed us, soon afterward, that therailroad bridge had been blown up. 

About the same time, the roar of artillery recommenced in front, andregiments that had not slept for twenty hours, were hurried past us, totake position at the entrenchments. A universal fear now foundexpression, and helpless people asked of each other, with pale lips--

"How far have we to walk to reach the James?"

It was doubtful, at this time, that any one knew the route to thatriver. A few members of the signal corps had adventured thither to opencommunication with the gunboats, and a small cavalry party of Casey'sdivision had made a foray to New Market and Charles City Court House. But it was rumored that Wise's brigade of Confederates was now posted atMalvern Hills, closing up the avenue of escape, and that the whole rightwing of the Confederate army was pushing toward Charles City. MalvernHills, the nearest point that could be gained, was about twenty milesdistant, and Harrison's Landing--presumed to be our finaldestination--was thirty miles away. To retreat over this distance, encumbered with baggage, the wounded and the sick, was discarded asinvolving pursuit, and certain calamity. Cavalry might fall upon us atevery turning, since the greater portion of our own horse had beenscouting between White House and Hanover, when the bridges weredestroyed, and was therefore separated from the main army. At eighto'clock--weak with fever and scarcely able to keep in the saddle--Ijoined Mr. Anderson of the _Herald_, and rode toward the front, that Imight discover the whereabouts of the new engagement. Winding through acart-track in Michie's Woods, we came upon fully one third of the wholearmy, or the remnant of all that portion engaged at Gaines's Mill;--theReserves, Porter's Corps, Slocum's division, and Meagher'sbrigade, --perhaps thirty-thousand men. They covered the whole of Tent'sfarm, and were drawn up in line, heavily equipped, with their colors inposition, field officers dismounted, and detachments from each regimentpreparing hot coffee at certain fires. A very few wagons--and thesecontaining only ammunition--stood harnessed beside each regiment. Inmany cases the men lay or knelt upon the ground. Such hot, hungry, wearywretches, I never beheld. During the whole night long they had beencrossing the Chickahominy, and the little sleep vouchsafed them had beentaken in snatches upon the bare clay. Travelling from place to place, Isaw the surviving heroes of the defeat: Meagher looking very yellow andprosaic; Slocum, --small, indomitable, active; Newton, --a little gray, atrifle proud, very mercurial, and curiously enough, a Virginian;Meade, --lithe, spectacled, sanguine; and finally General McCall, asgrave, kindly odd and absent, as I had found him four months before. Thelatter worthy was one of the first of the Federal Generals to visitRichmond. He was taken prisoner the second day afterward, and the halfof his command was slain or disabled. 

I went to and fro, obtaining the names of killed, wounded and missing, with incidents of the battle as well as its general plan. These Iscrawled upon bits of newspaper, upon envelopes, upon the lining of myhat, and finally upon my shirt wristbands. I was literally filled withnotes before noon, and if I had been shot at that time, endeavors toobtain my name would have been extremely difficult. I should have hadmore titles than some of the Chinese princes; some parts of me wouldhave been found fatally wounded, and others italicized for gallantbehavior. Indeed, I should have been shot in every part, taken prisonerat every place, killed outright in every skirmish, and marvellouslysaved through every peril. My tombstone would have been some hundreds ofmuster-rolls and my obituary a fortune to a newspaper. I recollect, withsome amusement, the credit that each regiment took upon itself fordistinguished behavior. There were few Colonels that did not claim allthe honors. I fell in with a New Jersey brigade, that had been decimatedof nearly half its _quota_, and a spruce young Major attempted to conveyan idea of the battle to me. He said, in brief, that the New Jerseybrigade, composed mainly of himself and his regiment, and some feworganizations of little consequence, --although numbering ten thousandodd soldiers, --had received the whole shock of a quantity of "Rebels. "The said "Rebels" appeared to make up one fourth part of the populationof the globe. There was no end to them. They seemed to be several milesdeep, longer and more crooked than the Pamunkey, and stood with theirrear against Richmond, so that they couldn't fall back, even if theywanted to. In vain did the New Jersey brigade and his regiment attackthem with ball and bayonet. How the "Rebels" ever withstood thecelebrated charge of his regiment was altogether inexplicable. 

In the language of the Major, --"the New Jersey brigade, --and myregiment, --fit, and fit, and fit, and give 'em 'get out!' But sir, may Ibe----, well there (expression inadequate), we couldn't budge 'em. No, sir! (very violently, ) not budge 'em, sir! _I_ told the boys to walk at'em with cold steel. Says I: 'Boys, steel'ill fetch 'em, or nothin'under heaven!' Well, sir, at 'em we went, --me and the boys. There ain'tbeen no sich charge in the whole war! Not in the whole war, sir!(intensely fervid;) leave it to any impartial observer if there hasbeen! We went up the hill, square in the face of all their artillery, musketry, cavalry, sharpshooters, riflemen, --everything, sir!Everything! (energetically. ) One o' my men overheard the Rebel Generalsay, as we came up: says he, --'that's the gamest thing I ever see. 'Well! we butchered 'em frightful. We must a killed a thousand or two of'em, don't you think so, Adjutant? But, sir, --it was all in vain. No go, sir! no, sir, no go! (impressively. ) And the New Jersey brigade and myregiment fell back, inch by inch, with our feet to the foe(rhetorically. ) Is that so, boys?"

The "boys, " who had meantime gathered around, exclaimed loudly, that itwas "true as preachin, " and the Major added, in an undertone that hisname was spelled * * *. 

"But where were Porter's columns?" said I, "and the PennsylvaniaReserves?"

"I didn't see 'em, " said the Major: "I don't think they was there. Ifthey had a been, why wa'n't they on hand to save my regiment, and theNew Jersey brigade?"

It would be wrong to infer from these vauntings, that the Federals didnot fight bravely and endure defeat unshrinkingly. On the contrary, Ihave never read of higher exemplifications of personal and moralcourage, than I witnessed during this memorable retreat. And the youngMajor's boasting did not a whit reduce my estimate of his efficiency. For in America, swaggering does not necessarily indicate cowardice. Iknew a Captain of artillery in Smith's division, who was wordier thanGratiano, and who exaggerated like Falstaff. But he was a lion inaction, and at Lee's Mills and Williamsburg his battery was handled withconsummate skill. 

From Trent's farm the roadway led by a strip of corduroy, throughsloppy, swampy woods, to an open place, beyond a brook, where Smith'sdivision lay. The firing had almost entirely ceased, and we heard loudcheers running up and down the lines, as we again ventured within cannonrange. On this spot, for the second time, the Federals had won a decidedsuccess. And in so far as a cosmopolitan could feel elated, I was proud, for a moment, of the valor of my division. The victors had given memeals and a bed, and they had fed my pony when both of us were hungry. But the sight of the prisoners and the collected dead, saddened mesomewhat. 

These two engagements have received the name of the First and Secondbattles of Golding's Farm. They resulted from an effort of Toombs'sGeorgia brigade to carry the redoubt and breastworks of General Smith. Toombs was a civilian, and formerly a senator from Georgia. He had nomilitary ability, and his troops were driven back with great slaughter, both on Friday and Saturday. Among the prisoners taken was Colonel Lamarof (I think) the 7th Georgia regiment. He passed me, in a litter, wounded, as I rode toward the redoubt. 

Lamar was a beautiful man, shaped like a woman, and his hair was long, glossy, and wavy with ringlets. He was a tiger, in his love of blood, and in character self-willed and vehement. He was of that remarkableclass of Southern men, of which the noted "Filibuster" Walker was thegreat exponent. I think I may call him an apostle of slavery. Hebelieved it to be the destiny of our pale race to subdue all the duskytribes of the earth, and to evangelize, with the sword, the wholeWestern continent, to the uses of master and man. Such people werecalled disciples of "manifest destiny. " He threw his whole heart intothe war; but when I saw him, bloodless, panting, quivering, I thoughthow little the wrath of man availed against the justice of God. FromSmith's on the right, I kept along a military road, in the woods, toSedgwick's and Richardson's divisions, at Fairoaks. Richardson wassubsequently slain, at the second battle of Bull Run. He was called"Fighting Dick, " and on this particular morning was talking composedlyto his wife, as she was about to climb to the saddle. His tent had beentaken down, and soldiers were placing his furniture in a wagon. Agreater contrast I never remarked, than the ungainly, awkward, andrough General, with his slight, trim, pretty companion. She had come tovisit him and had remained until commanded to retire. I fancied, thoughI was separated some distance, that the little woman wept, as she kissedhim good by, and he followed her, with frequent gestures of good-hap, till she disappeared behind the woods. I do not know that such prosaicold soldiers are influenced by the blandishments of love; but "FightingDick" never wooed death so recklessly as in the succeeding engagementsof New Market and Malvern Hills. 

From Seven Pines to the right of Richardson's head-quarters, ran a lineof alternate breastwork, redoubt, and stockade. The best of theseredoubts was held by Captain Petit, with a New York Volunteer battery. Ihad often talked with Petit, for he embodied, as well as any man in thearmy, the martial qualifications of a volunteer. He despised order. Nobody cared less for dress and dirt. I have seen him, sitting in a holethat he hollowed with his hands, tossing pebbles and dust over his head, like another Job. He had profound contempt for any man and any systemthat was not "American. " I remember asking him, one day, the meaning ofthe gold lace upon the staff hats of the Irish brigade. 

"Means run like shell!" said Petit, covering me with dirt. 

"Don't the Irish make the best soldiers?" I ventured. 

"No!" said Petit, raining pebbles, "I had rather have one American thanten Irishmen. "

The fighting of Petit was contrary to all rule; but I think that he wasa splendid artillery-man. He generally mounted the rampart, shook hisfist at the enemy, flung up his hat, jumped down, sighted the gunshimself, threw shells with wonderful accuracy, screamed at the gunners, mounted the rampart again, halloed, and, in short, managed to do moreexecution, make more noise, attract more attention and throw more dirtthan anybody in the army. His redoubt was small, but beautifullyconstructed, and the parapet was heaped with double rows of sandbags. Itmounted rifled field-pieces, and, at most times, the gunners were lyingunder the pieces, asleep. Not any of the entrenched posts among thefrontier Indians were more enveloped in wilderness than this. The treeshad been felled in front to give the cannon play, but behind and on eachside belts of dense, dwarf timber covered the boggy soil. To the left ofPetit, on the old field of Seven Pines, lay the divisions of Hooker andKearney, and thither I journeyed, after leaving the redoubtablevolunteer. Hooker was a New Englander, reputed to be the handsomest manin the army. He fought bravely in the Mexican war, and afterwardsretired to San Francisco, where he passed a Bohemian existence at theUnion Club House. He disliked McClellan, was beloved by his men, and wasgenerally known as "Old Joe. " He has been one of the most successfulFederal leaders, and seems to hold a charmed life. In all probability hewill become Commander-in-chief of one of the grand armies. 

Kearney has passed away since the date of which I speak. He was known asthe "one-armed Devil, " and was, by odds, the best educated of all theFederal military chiefs. But, singularly enough, he departed from alltactics, when hotly afield. His personal energy and courage have givenhim renown, and he loved to lead forlorn hopes, or headstorming-parties, or ride upon desperate adventures. He was rich fromchildhood, and spent much of his life in Europe. For a part of this timehe served as a cavalry-man with the French, in Algiers. In private lifehe was equally reckless, but his tastes were scholarly, and he wasgenerous to a fault. Both Kearney and Hooker were kind to the reporters, and I owe the dead man many a favor. General Daniel Sickles commanded abrigade in this corps. To the left, and in the rear of Heintzelman'scorps, lay the divisions of Casey and Couch, that had relapsed intosilence since their disgrace at Seven Pines. General Casey was athin-haired old gentleman, too gracious to be a soldier, although Ibelieve that he is still in the service. His division comprised theextreme left of the Grand Army, and bordered upon a deep, impenetrablebog called "White Oak Swamp. " It was the purpose of McClellan to placethis swamp between him and the enemy, and defend its passage till hisbaggage and siege artillery had obtained the shelter of the gunboats, onthe shores of the James. I rode along this whole line, to renew myimpressions of the position, and found that sharp skirmishing was goingon at every point. When I returned to Savage's, where McClellan'sheadquarters had temporarily been pitched, I found the last of thewagons creaking across the track, and filing slowly southward. Thewounded lay in the out-houses, in the trains of cars, beside the hedge, and in shade of the trees about the dwelling. A little back, beside awood, lay Lowe's balloon traps, and the infantry "guard, " and cavalry"escort" of the Commander-in-chief were encamped close to the newprovost quarters, in a field beyond the orchard. An ambulance passed me, as I rode into the lane; it was filled with sufferers, and two men withbloody feet, crouched in the trail. From the roof of Savage's housefloated the red hospital flag. Savage himself was a quiet Virginiafarmer, and a magistrate. His name is now coupled with a grand battle. 

I felt very hungry, at four o'clock, but my weak stomach revolted atcoarse soldier fare, and I determined to ride back to Michie's. I wascounselled to beware; but having learned little discretion afield, Icantered off, through a trampled tillage of wheat, and an interminablewoods. In a half hour I rode into the familiar yard; but the place wasso ruined that I hardly recognized it. Not a panel of fence remained:the lawn was a great pool of slime; the windlass had been wrenched fromthe well; a few gashed and expiring soldiers lay motionless beneath theoaks, the fields were littered with the remains of camps, and the olddwelling stood like a haunted thing upon a blighted plain. The idlers, the teamsters, and the tents were gone, --all was silence, --and in thelittle front porch sat Mrs. Michie, weeping; the old gentleman stared atthe desolation with a working face, and two small yellow lads laydolorously upon the steps. They all seemed to brighten up as I appearedat the gate, and when I staggered from my horse, both of them took myhands. I think that tears came into all our eyes at once, and the littleEthiops fairly bellowed. 

"My friends, " I said, falteringly, "I see how you have suffered, andsympathize with you, from my heart. "

"Our beautiful property is ruined, " said Mrs. Michie, welling up. 

"Yer's five years of labor, --my children's heritage, --the home of ourold age, --look at it!"

The old gentleman stood up gravely, and cast his eyes mournfully around. 

"I have nobody to accuse, " he said; "my grief is too deep for any hate. This is war!"

"What will the girls say when they come back?" was the mother's nextsob; "they loved the place: do you think they will know it?"

I did not know how to reply. They retained my hands, and for a momentnone of us spoke. 

"Don't think, Mr. Townsend, " said the chivalrous old gentleman again, "that we like you less because some of your country people have strippedus. Mother, where is the gruel you made for him?"

The good lady, expecting my return, had prepared some nourishing chickensoup, and directly she produced it. I think she took heart when I ate soplentifully, and we all spoke hopefully again. Their kindness so touchedme, that as the evening came quietly about us, lengthening the shadows, and I knew that I must depart, I took both their hands again, doubtfulwhat to say. 

"My friends, --may I say, almost my parents? for you have been askind, --good by! In a day, perhaps, you will be with your children again. Richmond will be open to you. You may freely go and come. Be comfortedby these assurances. And when the war is over, --God speed the time!--wemay see each other under happier auspices. "

"Good by!" said Mr. Michie; "if I have a house at that time, you shallbe welcome. "

"Good by, " said Mrs. Michie; "tell your mother that a strange lady inVirginia took good care of you when you were sick. "

I waved a final adieu, vaulted down the lane, and the wood gathered itssolemn darkness about me. When I emerged upon Savage's fields, asuccession of terrible explosions shook the night, and then the flamesflared up, at points along the railroad. They were blowing up thelocomotives and burning the cars. At the same hour, though I could notsee it, White House was wrapped in fire, and the last sutler, teamster, and cavalry-man had disappeared from the shores of the Pamunkey. 

I tossed through another night of fever, in the captain's tent of theSturgis Rifles, --McClellan's body guard. And somehow, again, I dreamedfitfully of the unburied corpses on the field of Gaines's Mill. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

A BATTLE SUNDAY. 

In the dim of the morning of our Lord's Sabbath, the twenty-ninth ofJune, 1862, I sat in my saddle at Savage's. The gloom was verycheerless. A feeling of hopeless vagabondism oppressed me. I rememberedthe Disinherited Knight, the Wandering Jew, Robinson Crusoe, and otherpoor errants in the wide world, and wondered if any of them ever lookedso ruefully as I, when the last wagon of the Grand Army disappearedthrough the shadow. 

The tent had been taken down at midnight. I had been dozing in thesaddle, with parched lips and throbbing temples, waiting for my comrade. Head-quarters had been intending to move, without doing it, for fourhours, and he informed me that it was well to stay with the CommandingGeneral, as the Commanding General kept out of danger, and also kept inprovisions. I was sick and petulant, and finally quarrelled with myfriend. He told me, quietly, that I would regret my harshness when Ishould be well again. I set off for White Oak, but repented at "BurntChimneys, " and turned back. In the misty dawn I saw the maimed stilllying on the ground, wrapped in relics of blankets, and in one of theouthouses a grim embalmer stood amid a family of nude corpses. He dealtwith the bodies of high officers only; for, said he--

"I used to be glad to prepare private soldiers. They were wuth a fivedollar bill apiece. But, Lord bless you, a Colonel pays a hundred, anda Brigadier-General two hundred. There's lots of them now, and I havecut the acquaintance of everything below a Major. I might, " he added, "as a great favor, do a Captain, but he must pay a Major's price. Iinsist upon that! Such windfalls don't come every day. There won't beanother such killing for a century. "

A few horsemen of the escort loitered around head-quarters. All thetents but one had been removed, and the staff crouched sleepily upon therefuse straw. The rain began to drizzle at this time, and I unbuckled ablanket to wrap about my shoulders. Several people were lying upon dryplaces, here and there, and espying some planks a little remote, I tiedmy horse to a peach-tree, and stretched myself languidly upon my back. The bridal couch or the throne were never so soft as those knottyplanks, and the drops that fell upon my forehead seemed to cool myfever. 

I had passed into a sort of cognizant sleep when a harsh, loud, cruelvoice awakened me, and I seemed to see a great Polyphemus, stretchinghis hands into the clouds, and gaping like an earthquake. 

"Boy, " I heard him say, to a slight figure, near at hand, "boy, what areyou standing there for? What in ---- do you want?"

"Nothing!"

"Take it, and go, ---- ---- you! Take it, and go!"

I peeped timorously from my place, and recognized the Provost-General ofthe Grand Army. He had been sleeping upon a camp chest, and did notappear to be refreshed thereby. 

"I feel sulky as ----!" he said to an officer adjoining; "I feel ----bad-humored! Orderly!"

"General!"

"Whose horses are these?"

"I don't know, General!"

"Cut every ---- ---- one of 'em loose. Wake up these ---- ---- loaferswith the point of your sabre! Every ---- ---- one of 'em! That's what Icall ---- ----boldness!"

He strutted off like the great Bomba or the Czar, and I thought I neverbeheld a more exceptional person in any high position. 

With a last look at Savage's white house, the abandoned wretches in thelawn, the blood-red hospital flag, the torn track and smouldering cars, I turned my face southward, crossed some bare plains, that had once beenfields, and at eight o'clock passed down the Williamsburg road, towardBottom Bridge. The original roadway was now a bottomless stretch ofsand, full of stranded wheels, dead horses, shreds of blankets, discarded haversacks, and mounds of spilled crackers. Other routes forwagons had been opened across fields, over bluffs, around pits and bogs, and through thickets and woods. The whole country was crossed withdeeply-rutted roads, as if some immense city had been lifted away, andonly its interminably sinuous streets remained. Near Burnt Chimneys, acreek crossing the road made a ravine, and here I overtook the hindmostof the wagons. They had been stalled in the gorge, and a provost guardwas hurrying the laggard teamsters. The creek was muddy beyondcomparison, and at the next hill-top I passed "Burnt Chimneys, " a fewdumb witnesses that pointed to heaven. A mile or two further, I came tosome of the retreating regiments, and also to five of the siegethirty-twos with which Richmond was to have been bombarded. The mainarmy still lay back at their entrenchments to cover the retreat, and atten o'clock I heard the roar of field guns; the pursuit had commenced, and the Confederates were pouring over the ramparts at Fairoaks. I didnot go back; battles were of no consequence to me. I wanted somebreakfast. If I could only obtain a cup of warm coffee and a fragment ofmeat, I thought that I might recover strength. But nothing could beobtained anywhere, for money or charity. The soldiers that I passedlooked worn and hungry, for their predecessors had swept the countrylike herds of locusts; but one cheerful fellow, whom I addressed, produced a lump of fat pork that I tried to eat, but made a signalfailure. All my baggage had been left at Michie's, where it remains tothis moment. None cared to be hospitable to correspondents at thisdespondent hour, and a horrible idea of starvation took possession of mymind. A mile from White Oak Swamp, some distance back of the road, laythe Engineer Brigade. They were now on the eve of breaking camp, andwhen I reached Colonel McCloud Murphy's, his chests were packed, and allhis provisions had gone ahead. He gave me, however, a couple of hardcrackers and a draught of whiskey and quinine, whereby I rallied for amoment. At General Woodbury's I observed a middle-aged lady, making hertoilet by a looking-glass hung against the tent-pole. She seemed ascareful of her personal appearance, in this trying time, as if she hadbeen at some luxurious court. There were several women on the retreat, and though the guns thundered steadily behind, they were never flurried, but could have received company, or accepted offers of marriage, withthe utmost complacency. If there was any one that rouged, I am sure thatno personal danger would have disturbed her while she heightened herroses; and she would have tied up her back hair in defiance of shell orgrape. 

At Casey's ancient head-quarters, on the bluff facing White Oak Swamp, Ifound five correspondents. We fraternized immediately, and they allpooh-poohed the battle, as such an old story that it would be absurd toride back to the field. We knew, however, that it was occurring at PeachOrchard, on a part of the old ground at Fairoaks. These gentlemen werein rather despondent moods, and there was one who opined that we wereall to be made prisoners of war. In his own expressive way of puttingit, we were to be "gobbled up. " This person was stout and inclined topanting and perspiration. He wore glasses upon a most pugnacious nose, and his large, round head was covered with short, bristly, jetty hair. 

"I promised my wife, " said this person, who may be called Cindrey, "tostay at home after the Burnside business. The Burnside job was verynearly enough for me. In fact I should have quite starved on theBurnside job, if I hadn't took the fever. And the fever kept me so busythat I forgot how hungry I was. So I lived over that. "

At this point he took off his glasses and wiped his face; the water wasrunning down his cheeks like a miniature cataract, and his great neckseemed to emit jets of perspiration. 

"Well, " he continued, "the Burnside job wasn't enough for me; I mustcome out again. I must follow the young Napoleon. And the young Napoleonhas made a pretty mess of it. I never expect to get home any more; Iknow I shall be gobbled up!"

A youngish, oldish, oddish fellow, whom they called "Pop, " here told Mr. Cindrey to keep his pulse up and take a drink. A tall, large person, insemi-quaker garb, who did not look unlike George Fox, run to seed, said, with a flourish, that these battles were nothing to Shiloh. He wasattached to the provincial press, and had been with the army of the Westuntil recently. Without any exception, he was the "fussiest, " mostimpertinent, most disagreeable man that I ever knew. He always made ahero of himself in his reports, and if I remember rightly, theirheadings ran after this fashion:--

"_Tremendous Battle at_ ROANOKE! _The Correspondent of_ THE BLUNDERBUSS_hoists the_ NATIONAL FLAG above the REBEL RAMPARTS!!!" oragain--"_Grand Victory at_ SHILOH! _Mr. Twaddle, our SpecialCorrespondent_, TAKEN PRISONER!!! _He_ ESCAPES!!! _He is_ FIRED UPON!!!_He wriggles through_ FOUR SWAMPS and SEVEN HOSTILE CAMPS! _He is_ AGAINCAPTURED! _He_ STRANGLES _the sentry_! _He drinks the Rebel Commander, Philpot_, BLIND! _Philpot gives him_ THE PASSWORD!! --> _Philpotcompliments the Blunderbuss. _