avail himself of his position to interfere officiously in the affair, he was told that such had been the advice given. General Johnston then asked whether he had counted the cost and weighed the possible consequences; and was told that he had, and that he had advised the course that he himself would have adopted if principal, though he knew it must lead to a bloody street brawl. To General Johnston's expressed hope that he might convince him that his action was, to say the least, precipitate, he replied, that he feared the task was hopeless. 'But,' to use the language of my informant, 'he did, at length, succeed, by the mathematical argument of honor and the inexorable logic of the code, in inducing me to withdraw my counsel and leave my friend free to act after a plan which he, General Johnston, suggested. I now know that it was the wisest and best that could have been adopted, and that by its substitution for mine I have been saved a lifelong term of remorse and self-reproach. . . Not for world's now, would I have had my advice followed. General Johnston was probably the one man in the world who could have prevented it, and his arguments were the only ones that could have proved effectual.' Both of these young men attained high rank and distinction in the Civil War; the writer of the above in the Confederate Army and his principal in the Federal Army.

        "The other incident occurred at the crisis of the Nicaragua fillibustering fever, and is narrated as follows by my informant:

        "'A battalion was raised in and around San Antonio to go to General Walker's assistance, and I was waited upon by a committee to know whether I would accept a command. Nothing could have been more consonant to my feelings at the time; but, for some reason, I demanded until the next day before returning an answer, suggesting, in the meantime, to swell the numbers by additional recruits.

        While that was going on that night quite briskly in the plaza, General Johnston came along, and, taking me by the arm, asked me to accompany him out of the crowd.

        "'Then turning to me, he desired to know whether it was true that I proposed going on such a wild-goose chase. On being told that such was my intention, he replied: 'My young friend, think twice, and think seriously, before taking this step; because, in all likelihood, it is the turning point in your life.'"

        Admitting that in youth the impulse was natural, and referring to analogous cases in his own career, he continued: "The days of Quixotism are past, and with them the chance for name and fame in all such enterprises as this.

        The age is materialistic, and he who goes about in search of windmills and giants is apt to be considered a fit candidate for Bedlam.

        The question, however, wears a moral aspect, which should be duly weighed and considered. Is there any material difference between the filibuster and the buccaneer? Tell me not of philanthropy as a plea. I say of it as Roland's wife said of liberty: 'Alas! how many crimes are committed in thy name!' Beside, if you are pining for adventure, you will not have long to wait. Liberty and Philanthropy are at work and in a broader field than yours. Fanaticism will soon bring on a sectional collision between the States of the Union, in which every man will have to choose his side. When it comes there will be no lack of blows, and may God help the right! Then give up your present project, and wait. Go to Austin and enter on your profession there. "I will give you letters which will insure you advantageous business connection there."

        By these arguments, here given almost in his very words, and similar ones, he again induced me to defer my wishes to

his judgment and I have never regretted the decision. The letters I have now.

        "Permit me to say, in conclusion, that I have never known the man who held in such nice equipoise qualities akin and yet in a measure antagonistic - the genial and reserved, the gentle and the grand, the humane and the historic. He would have gone a day's journey to reclaim an erring brother, and would have turned out of his path to avoid crushing a worm; and yet he would have sacrificed his life and all he held dear in it rather than deviate one hair's breadth from the strictest line of right and duty.

        "There was no cant in his composition, for he was a cavalier of the straightest sect; but I have never met the man who combined in himself more of the elements of a follower of the Unerring Teacher. In his company the humblest felt at ease, and yet a crowned head would not have ventured upon a freedom with him. In the course of an eventful life and extensive travel, I have come in contact with many of the historic personages of the day; and yet I scruple not to say that of them all, but three, to my thinking, would stand the test of the most rigid scrutiny.* Of these by a singular coincidence, the Colonel and lieutenant colonel of a cavalry regiment in the United States Army, afterward respectively the ranking officers of a hostile army, Albert Sidney Johnston and Robert E. Lee, were two; the third was Mr. Calhoun.

        *"'No time-serving or self-seeking entered into their calculations. Self-abnegation at the bidding of duty was the rule of their lives. Could our much maligned section lay no further claim to the consideration of mankind, the fact that it produced almost in the same generation, such a triumvirate, typical of their people, is enough to place it among the

* Ex-President Davis being still in the flesh, prevented this number being extended into a quartette.

fore-most nations of the earth in the realms of thought, honor, patriotism, and knightly grace.

        "Colonel Wharton J. Green, of North Carolina, some anecdotes from whose pen have already been inserted in this memoir, in a letter to the present writer says, in regard to General Johnston:

        "'Portray him as he was - great, good, single-minded, and simple. He was the devotee of duty, but disposed to soften its asperities to others. His was a character with few counterparts in ancient or modern story. It has been said that the noblest eulogy ever written consisted of a single word - 'the just.' All who ever knew General Johnston will confirm that he was as well entitled to that epithet as the old Athenian, and, coupled with it, to another, 'the generous.'

        "Talleyrand's saying, 'No man is a hero to his valet,' is true in the main; but General Johnston would have been a hero to his very shadow. Those who knew him best admired him most. His peerless, blameless life was long enough for glory; and but one brief day, perhaps one hour only, too short for liberty. One hour more for him in the saddle, and the Confederate States would have taken their place at the council board of nations."

CHAPTER XII.

        One of the most marked and remarkable characters of that time and section was my honored old friend, "Bigfoot Wallace." The presumption is that that was not his Christian or baptismal cognomen, if he ever had one, but it was the only one by which he was known throughout western, if not all, Texas, and universally respected wheresoever known.

        Peculiar and sui generis he was, above all men that I have known in life. Uncouth in garb and oft in speech, his simple word was more than tantamount to hosts of sworn witnesses in rebuttal. Get drunk he would occasionally, it grieves me to say, but drunk or sober, he could not tell a lie, or act one either. Essentially peaceable by nature, there was not a blustering bully in all those parts who would venture to encroach upon his inherent rights. Living ten or twenty miles from other habitation, hostile savages would give his cabin twice that space to shun its lone occupant, for well they knew by hearsay that in it hung a score or more of their scalps as witness of his prowess and unerring aim with the finest make of rifle then known. They soon learned to regard him as the bearer of a charmed life, as the wiliest of their tribe laid down theirs to compass it. He was as foreign to fear as to falsehood, avarice, or duplicity. He was one of my father's old campaigners, and ever held him in special regard, which was transmitted to the son upon first acquaintance.

        A distinguished legal friend of the place, Hon. John A. Wilcox, told me repeatedly that from extended correspondence with parties in Virginia he was absolutely convinced that "Old Bigfoot" had a fortune awaiting him in that State, ranging from fifty to a hundred thousand dollars, only requiring proof of identity and a few technical formalities to place him in possession, and yet for the life of him, he could not

induce the bull-headed old fool to go out and take it. Intimating that perhaps I could succeed better, I tried my powers of persuasion on old "Bigfoot" but with like result. Here is the purport of his reply: "Yes, I know it was there, waiting for me to go and take it, long before Colonel Wilcox told me about it. Why don't I go and get it? Simply because I don't want it. What use would it be except to make me miserable? I'm tolerably well satisfied over yonder, beyond the Medina, by myself. My rifle and traps furnish all I need for meat, and the peltries my other little wants, such as powder, lead, coffee, salt, and a little dram when I run down here every month or two to see you town fellows. What more does a man require to make him happy? And yet you and Jack Wilcox, both my friends, would have me break up a life that suits me and take to one that I hate and despise. A big house, a big drunk, and a big fool all combined, with lots of pretended friends as long as the money held out. Wouldn't I be a pretty d--n fool to make the swap?" I was compelled to assent. Let others regard him as an unadulterated fool, to me it seemed then, as it does now, that he had in his mental make-up many of the essential elements of the true philosopher - a true copy of Byron's Boone, one of the gems of true poetry.

                        Of all men, saving Sylla the man-slayer,
                        Who passes for in life and death most lucky,
                        Of the great names in which our faces stare,
                        The General Boone, back-woodsman of Kentucky,
                        Was happiest amongst mortals anywhere;
                        For killing nothing but a bear or buck, he
                        Enjoyed the lonely, vigorous, harmless days
                        Of his old age in wilds of deepest maze.

                        Crime came not near him - she is not the child
                        Of solitude. Health shrank not from him, for
                        Her home is in the rarely trodden wild,
                        Where if men seek her not, and death be more
                        Their choice than life, forgive them, as beguiled

                        By habit to what their own hearts abhor,
                        In cities caged. The present case in point I
                        Cite is, that Boone lived hunting up to ninety.

                        And what's still stranger, left behind a name
                        For which men vainly decimate the throng,
                        Not only famous, but of that good fame,
                        Without which glory's but a tavern song -
                        Simple, serene, the antipodes of shame,
                        Which hate nor envy e'er could tinge with wrong;
                        An active hermit, even in age the child
                        Of nature, or the man of Ross run wild.

        And so on through four or five additional stanzas. Such was "Old Bigfoot!"

        It was current report about that time that, single-handed, he once took the trail of a band of hostiles returning from one of their periodical forays in the white settlements, and after following it for days like a sleuth-hound came up with and panicked their bivouac at the dead of night, killing and scalping, the last a point of conscience with him, three of their braves and capturing a half grown buck, whom he tied to himself, dos a' dos, on horseback, and took home with him, assigning as motive that he needed a young nigger to "tote" wood and water for him in his old age, but was too poor to buy one. On being cautioned as to the risk he ran in sleeping in the same room with a young rattlesnake, he quietly replied: "Yes, I know the vermins never go to sleep; but I always do with one eye open and my "bowie" for a bed-fellow." Wonderful to tell, this implied claim to superiority of race was tacitly admitted by the improvised "nigger" before he gave Marse Bigfoot the slip and went back to his own people, probably to exploit his educational progress in civilization.

        The thought has forced itself both then and since that this simple, confiding soul, who, to my honest belief, had never done aught to injure either, had himself in early manhood been victim to over-confidence in man or men, or most

likely to woman, and so in sheer distrust of all had resolved, from over sensitive and high-wrought nature, to cut aloof from mankind and betake himself to the wilderness. Church history leads to inference that if so, he was not the first to seek heritage under kindred impulse.

        A word by way of explanation or apology. It has been intimated that when my old friend came to town, which was usually every month or two, he sometimes forgot himself by taking an extra potation or two during his brief sojourn, but he never forgot that he was the inborn gentleman that everybody believed him to be. But once in the saddle, and his face turned homewards, and after getting there, no powers of persuasion could induce him to touch the bottle. To all such solicitation, his invariable reply would be: "No, Bigfoot's got a scalp on his head, and he's got to keep a level head to keep it there." That argued that he carried a well-balanced head.

        The last I have ever heard of this eccentric, but most remarkable man, was his presence as an honored guest at a banquet of his old San Jacinto comrades and compatriots, almost in the shadow of the Alamo, I think about fifteen years ago. He must even then have been hunting up to ninety. If, since then, he has passed over the river into the happy hunting-grounds beyond, let us trust that he and his life-long foemen of this side, the Comanches and Apaches, left their animosities behind them, and are now smoking "the pipe of peace" together over the river.

        Without any intimation to bear it out, it is my belief that he was a trusted scout of that congenial spirit and highest type of the natural soldier in all history - Bedford Forrest. It would have been a suitable culmination for loftiest heroism to have had Bigfoot for his ferret on the trail and movements of hostile leaders, whom he utilized as stepping-stones for the attainment of his heroic ends.

        Apropos, an anecdote of that phenomenal leader of heroes, which comes well authenticated. In Wilson county, already mentioned, there lived in war-times a worthy old lady by the name of Whitehead, who, gauged by the Napoleonic standard, was probably the greatest woman in the world. She had nineteen sons under the greatest of cavalry leaders, and would have made the twentieth of the tribe by her own voluntary enlistment had she not been debarred by age and sex. On being asked by the parson, on her thought-to-be death-bed, if she didn't want to meet her Saviour, she replied with honest simplicity: "Yes, I don't mind to, but I'd rather meet Old Forrest." That evidenced the hold and confidence he had upon the people of his State. It has ever since been one of my regrets that our acquaintance was but casual.

        A hunting excursion on which we were together, just before quitting Texas, calls for a passing notice. Lieutenants Chambliss and Van Camp, old acquaintances, who were stationed at Camp Verde, a frontier post some hundred miles northwest, were in the city for a brief visit on official duty. They insisted on my returning with them, holding out as inducement a big hunt and good fishing. Of course, there was no resisting such arguments. So one fine morning we started betimes, the two dragoons in ambulance and I in the saddle on old Jim, of rattlesnake and run-away recall. We were hardly on the road before Chambliss, who was a superb horseman, began insisting on our swapping locomotion. Of course, the fear expressed that he couldn't ride Jim only made him the more pertinacious for display of his horsemanship. At last, the wished-for and suitable time for gratifying the young man arrived. In the dim vista ahead a long dark moving line appeared in view, like a wounded snake dragging its slow length along, and sympathy went out forthwith toward that ambitious cavalryman, for well I knew that it was one of Mr. Secretary Davis' camel trains returning to the

post with supplies, but Jim didn't take it in, and neither did the man in the wagon. Waiting for it to come up, I told Chambliss that out of pity he should bestride Jim for a few hours. Easier said than done, for that equine kept peering up the road as if looking for a mighty python, all the time snorting like a porpoise, and like that would-be amphibious fish, trusting that its name and attributes are correctly catalogued, making constant and futile efforts to quit his normal element by repeated plunges into the one above. "What's the matter with the fool?" came the inquiry. "He thinks, old boy, you do not know how to ride one of his mettle." "Well, I'll undeceive him," came the reply, as he at last got in the saddle and drove the spurs up to the rowel. "Keep a taut rein, Cham, but give him his head," was my parting injunction as the noble animal darted off like a Congreve rocket.

        Horse and rider had nearly all reached the tail end of the caravan, united as one, when on the instant came a halt which came near dissevering their mutually repugnant and enforced connection. Each was covering himself with glory until such proximity was reached, and Jim's organs of eye, ear, nose, brought him to a full and momentous stop. Fortunately, his long mane saved his upper-story companion from a fall and enabled the equine to take in a momentary survey of the situation, and plan his sequent course of action. With a loud snort and a fresh accession of crazified panic, he darted off at right angles to the road, and made such time over that prairie as Flying Childers the Godolphin, or Timoleon, could not have matched over the same course in their palmiest days. Those uncouth creatures with jingling bells and waddling locomotion, and their attendants, no less strange and more weird when singing one of their monotonous love-songs in chorus, were too much for Jim's nerves, and hence the sequel preliminary.

        In fact after much reflection on the subject, I have come to the conclusion that that animal was subject to fits of temporary emotional insanity, as the lawyers call it, and hence was in no wise responsible for what he did at such times. Chambliss was evidently of the same opinion, barring the extenuating clause, and further, that this was a very acute and aggravated attack, for when Van and I came up with them an hour or two later, he had dismounted and was reading Jim a moral lecture on immoral depravity, or vice versa, savoring more of the reputed emphasis to which our army in Flanders' was addicted, than of the euphonic modulations of Attica. His last remark of expostulation that reached us as we came in ear-shot to that interesting colloquy between him and that hard-mouthed, self- willed brute,, was, in effect, if not in words, as followeth: "You are the blankedest blank fool that I ever saw in my life," which showed that he too regarded Jim as non-compos. In response to protest against his having overtaxed poor Jim in his mad ride over the prairie, he replied with acerbity: "Well, unless Van is fool enough to try him, you'll ride him yourself from here to Verde. I wouldn't back him again if you'd give him to me as inducement for doing it."

        In due time we arrived at our destination, and were warmly welcomed by Major Innis Palmer, commandant, then Major by brevet, and later on a Major-General of "the blue," and his accomplished wife. Subsequently I rented his lovely home for a year or two while in Congress. In hot haste a big lump of cold substance was unblanketed from the wagon. Palmer had a green vegetable in his garden and the other concomitants in his closet. Surgeon Smith was as high authority on juleps as on jalaps, and for long had filled the learned professorship of intermixture in that quiet, secluded institution. No vile new-fangled heresies, such as crushed mint, lump ice, shortage of "poteen," found favor in his eyes

or place in his brew. Like Father Tom, of blessed memory, he held with autocratic tenacity, "that after the other components of a hot punch were duly compounded, you add the wather, and, may it plaze your Riverence, drop of superfluous wather you add spoils the punch." Perhaps we youngsters, Chambliss especially, didn't relish that Olympian potation, see N. P. Willis for origin of the adjective, and North Carolina for its nativity, after our long, dry, hot ride. A replica, however, failed to evoke a health to his John Gilpin charger referred to.

        One day as we were all sitting on the piazza, one of the Arabs came up and announced with the nonchalance of a canine obituary: "Doctor, me kill Yuseff." The tour of inspection which we made with the Doctor to the camel-yards showed that the swarthy Ishmaelite was not yet "kilt entirely" by his numerous and well meant knife thrusts. Whether he lived to see the sands of Syria again is more than I can say, as we started on our big hunt next day - big in preparation, but little in results.

        Besides the officers of the post, the party embraced Major Beall, the paymaster of the department; a man laconic of speech he was, but far-famed for emphasis of expression, with a liberal admixture of causticity when excited, as the younger members of the party soon found out. Two four-horse ambulances supplied transportation, with an escort of a dozen troopers at a reasonable distance to the rear, and Bigfoot as guide and provider of fresh meat. The first day out, near the ford of a little creek, he rode in and remarked that a big fight was going on some where near between a king snake and a rattler. Of course, that had to be investigated as none of us had ever seen the two in conflict. Although it was fully one hundred yards off, one of the combatants made such a racket with his tail in the dry leaves that we were easily guided to the battle-field. It was indeed a sight worth seeing.

The gentleman of the castanets, an immense fellow, whom we estimated later on to be over five feet long, was in the death grapple of his puny foeman, not over half in length, and in girth about the size of my digit finger, and seemed as satisfied with the situation, coiled around the neck of his big antagonist, as a modern mercenary belle might be supposed to show when hustled about the shirt collar of a spindle-shanked, vacuous million-dollar dude; or, to amplify the intensity of crushing devotion, a millionaire title-huntress dawdling over the frills of a blase Cossack or Italian count, a Dutch, French or Spanish baron, or a Turkish vizier with three tails and thirty antecedent spouses. Such attachments are, doubtless, intense until cut short after closer union in the divorce court, or by the tongue of scandal. But here was an absolute embrace for life, on the part of the king-snake at least, regardless of the wishes of the would-be divorce. Even now I regret to say that a ball from my revolver involved them both in a common fate, after enjoying the performance over half an hour. It is my deliberate opinion in recalling that combat, that the king-snake, man's self-constituted little champion, ought never to suffer harm at his hands.

        Bigfoot told us that night over our pipes that the most interesting part of such fights, one of which he had seen, is the preliminary preparative. "All venomous reptiles," he added, "have an instinctive terror of the 'king,' while he, regardless of under-size and weight, like a bull-terrier, the gamest thing that walks, is all the time on the lookout for a big fellow to knock the chip off his shoulder, or otherwise provoke hostilities. Well, one day when after a buck, I heard a rattle near my big toe and stepped back to shoot the 'critter,' when a little 'king' darted forward and gave me to understand that it was his fight and he didn't want any outside interference. So I turned it over to him, and quietly awaited results. I have heard of you soldier fellows before a battle trying to

get the advantage of 'posish' over each each other before hitting out, but here was what you call strategy of the native sort, unlearned from books. It was easy to see that the big one was badly hacked from the start, as he raised his head about six inches and kept his eyes on the other no matter where he'd go. It was no less evident that the 'king' was playing to throw him off his guard for an instant in order to glide upon him at the right moment and take him in his deadly embrace before the other could strike. Finally, after making repeated circuits about him just out of his reach, now at a dead-march gait, and then with lightning speed as if trying to make him twist his own neck off. In due time the opportunity came, and the 'king' seized it and his big enemy at the same time. You have seen the battle that followed up to the finish, or rather just before the big fellow was finished."

        That evening our camp was pitched on a little stream where trout and deer each had the repute of normal habitat, but it grieveth me to say that neither the vesperal or matutinal board gave evidence of either. Milk and fresh butter we did have in abundance, and a bit of quiet and perhaps equivocal fun supplied by the pay department. Its representative prognosticated a dearth of catch and kill and declined to go with us, remarking that Bigfoot had told him that a couple of old ladies lived hard by, the last on the line of civilization, from whom he could procure milk and butter; but he had forgotten to add that they had two large ferocious dogs, their sole protectors. As the good Major approached the cabin these bounded out at him, and before they could be called off one had bitten him through the left hand. Like the true man that he was, he resisted the natural impulse to shoot his assailants out of deference to importunities of the poor old woman. He returned to the camp laden down with the lacteal products that were showered upon him, but likewise with

ill concealed anxiety for the consequences. Somehow, after his wound had been cauterized and dressed, and supper eaten, conversation seemed to take a hydrophobiac turn or trend, much to the disgust of the man of Uncle Sam's money-bags. Each had a gruesome story to tell of the dormant vitality of the detestable microbe, or latent mad-dog germ, keeping quiescent for months and years before ulterior development. Perhaps that paymaster did not anticipate time and go mad off-hand. It was a thoughtless cruel jest, and should not have been indulged. Of course, though, his madness was only metaphorical. Heaven forefend that the last kind has ever developed for it has been my bete noire through life, more dreaded than upas-dipped arrow, or the tooth marks of a rattler, cobra, or tarantula, a pitiable admission that - for a born dog-lover.

        In due time we returned to Camp Verde, and I, a day or two later, on to San Antonio, where letters were awaiting me urging a family reunion for the summer at the White Sulphur Springs, Virginia.

CHAPTER XIII.

        Taking steamer at nearest point, Indianola, if memory is correct, two days later we landed at New Orleans, and the next day started up the river on the famous old "Eclipse," which then eclipsed every inland steamer afloat.

        It had been virtually chartered by a gay and rich young party of Mississippi planters with a corresponding number of young ladies with their chaperons and fine band of music, likewise on their way to the White Sulphur. Chancing to know two or three of the crowd as old University friends, I was soon brought en rapport with the entire party and the time passed in dancing and jollity all the way to Memphis, where I had to leave them, while they kept on to some point farther up the river before taking rail to our mutual destination. In disembarking an unfortunate mishap befell me in full sight of my late compagnons du voyage. Taking a seat in an omnibus already crowded to repletion, when it turned around, it came near spilling us all into the Mississippi river after rolling over two or three times. Perhaps the accident did not afford merriment to the merry-makers aboard when they saw me emerging from the buss all covered with mud.

        Arriving at the "Old White," I was considerably taken back on discovering that my father and family had not put in their appearance, especially as I was on my last ten dollars. I found a letter, however, directing me to join them at the North Carolina "White Sulphur," or famous old "Shocco."

        After the summer season was over, my father engaged the famous old Montmorenci, belonging to a particular friend, Mrs. Mary K. Williams, where the intervening cold seasons were passed until my wedding day rolled around on the 4th of May, 1858. My bride-to-be was the only daughter of my honored step-mother by a previous marriage with Mr. John

S. Ellery, of Boston, as I was the only representative of my side of the house. It was a home affair, and if not a brilliant one, it was certainly numerously attended, for father, unbeknowing, had given informal word invitation to all our friends and acquaintances around about us, and mother had been busy in the culinary department preparing roast turkeys, barbecued pigs, etc., so that when the eventful day rolled around, we saw Warren County roll up. So, if it was not a brilliant wedding, it was one long to be remembered in old Warren.

        After the ceremony my wife and self at once took the train for New York, with her cousin, Miss Addie Currier, accompanying us. A month later we took a steamer, "The Africa" for an extended tour abroad. After doing, as the modern phrase runs, Great Britain, France, Germany, Austria, and Italy, it was determined in family conclave to take in the land of the Pharaohs, and so we took steamer at Naples for Alexandria, and on arrival, a Nile boat for the Nile trip, then something to be talked about, and the most agreeable one that I have ever passed. The old monuments, tombs, and other reminders of the long-forgotten past, are left to other and abler pens.

        The day we started there came a down-pour of rain, such as I have never seen before or since, and the concentration of the seven years proverbial drought, to which this country is subjected from the Hebrew boy Joseph down to that identical day, for I was told before starting that there had not been a rainfall in Cairo for seven years preceding. As our Nile boat had been exposed during that entire time to the scorching rays of a tropical sun, it may be supposed to have leaked. No! leak is not the word. It poured down as if there had been no sham protection over our heads, and during the entire day we were like a pack of drowned rats.

        I shall not undertake to describe the pyramids, obelisks,

tombs and other monuments of that wonderful ancient land, as they have been better portrayed by tourists of a previous age and by guide-books of the present. Suffice it to say, that all of these were of the cyclopean order, and nothing puny except the present. The banks were lined with the villages, composed of miserable mud hovels of the fellahs, scarcely rising to the dignity of dog-kennels in more favored countries, and all along the shore could be seen the poor creatures drawing the water with swoops to irrigate the land.

        My crew consisted of fifteen half-clad Arabs, including the reis or captain; their gibberish was incessant, and with their monotonous songs utterly unintelligible. Let it be here premised, that before starting I had observed on the upper deck a pile of some twenty or thirty bushels of coarse brown bread, and upon inquiry was told by my dragoman that it was for the use of the Arab crew. Upon asking what they had to eat with it, the answer came: "Nile water." And do the poor things never get meat? "Only when their employers give them an occasional sheep." As that animal could be bought for only thirty or forty cents, I directed him to give them one at the next halting place, and every other place thereafter when we tied up for the night. "Senor," came the reply, if you do, we will soon be left without a crew, for in a week the poor devils will eat themselves to death." Well let us begin at the next tie-up.

        On returning from the village, with an Arab leading a full- grown sheep with one hand and carrying a large kettle in the other, he told the reis that it was a present to the crew. He then told me to take out my watch, and see how long it would take them to eat the sheep. What! You do not mean to say, was my reply, that they are going to devour it at a single meal? "Si, senor, and if you had not tasted meat for half a year, you would probably consume your full share at the feast." Upon the signal being given, the animal was

killed and stripped of his fleece in a trice and thrown into the kettle, and shortly after pulled out, and before it was well cooled off they began tearing off the flesh in great chunks by the handful and devouring it like hungry dogs. To the best of my recollection, the performance was over within one hour and a half from the time the sheep was stuck, and not a vestige of it remained except the bones. But it was not over yet, for every one of them, with their faces all smeared with grease, had to come up and kiss my hand in token of gratitude. This was but one of a dozen of like votive offerings that cemented our friendly relations before getting back to Cairo. A dollar back-sheesh effectually sealed it.

        It should have been premised, that before separating seven of the poor creatures petitioned through fan interpreter for me to buy them and families as slaves. Surprised at the strange request, I inquired the motive in preferring it, and this, in substance was the answer: First, to escape the army, of which they stand in mortal dread; second, to have a protector; and next, to have something to eat. We hear that you own slaves in your own country, and we naturally assume that if you will give us meat, who are entire strangers to you, every two or three days, you will do as well or better by us if we belonged to you. Nothing but dread of the penalty attaching to a breach of the African slave traffic prevented my closing their voluntary contract for voluntary life servitude on the spot at a scudo, a head. After the war, I had a correspondence with the State War Department, through the Assistant Secretary, Mr. Fred. Seward, on the subject, and while he admitted that it would have been no infraction of the slave traffic to have brought them over as represented, still there was no telling how soon I might have been required to have retransported them, and so he advised against running the risk. I thought then, and am sure now, that it would have been to our mutual advantage had the trade been consummated.

        To show their dread of the conscription, or forced service in the army about every third young man that I met while in the land of the Pharaohs was deficient of either their right eye, the dexter finger of the right hand, or two or three front teeth, each of which barred the use for fire-arms in the army, and had been inflicted by their own mothers to keep them out. The horrible mutilation had reached such a point that Mehemet Ali took a very effectual way of preventing it in the future by organizing a corps of lancers who, he jokingly remarked, did not require the eye to take aim, the finger to pull the trigger, or the teeth to bite the cartridge. It is needless to say that the foresight of this illustrious semi-savage had the desired effect.

        In due time we reached Karnak, the seat of ancient Thebes, and spent a week in exploring the place, making our excursions on the little donkeys of the country. The heat was so intense that although it was only February, starts had to be made by day-break, and once upon reaching the necropolis we were compelled to take refuge in one of the tombs, Benzoni's I believe, until near sundown before starting back to the boat. These tombs, by the way, cut out of white calcareous limstone in the sides of the mountains, and some of them running back for over a hundred yards, are one of the great attractions of the whilom hundred-gate city. The grand hall of the great temple with its one hundred and twenty stupendous columns, each carved out of a single piece of granite, is another great sight, an imperishable monument.

        Giving the vocal statue of Memnon and its companion of the plain the go-by, we made preparations for the return of our trip. Before starting a young English nobleman, Lord Rendlesham, I think the name, who was traveling with his tutor after leaving Oxford, and with whom we had got acquainted, came aboard and said that he was going to return next day, and proposed that we start at the same hour; and

to make the trip a little more exciting, further proposed that we lay a wager of ten guineas upon who should first reach a designated point below, Aziout, unless mistaken. To which, upon my assenting, he came on my boat the next morning and handed me the amount lost, proposing at the same time that we double the bet down to Benisoef, I believe, the next prominent point below, to which I again acquiesced. On reaching there, I had to wait an hour or so for his Lordship to come up. Again he handed me the amount he had lost, and and asked, somewhat in a spirit of bravado, "Do you dare double the last bet, on first arrival to some point lower down?" naming it. Upon my consenting to do so, he requested that we delay the start for a couple of hours, as he wished to go up into the village for a short while. Upon his and the parson's return, they had a dozen new Arabs at their heels. Seeing which, my dragoman advised me to cancel the last wager, as it was evident he had a relay of rowers to tire us out. Not consenting to this, I went on board his boat and gave him to understand that I was cognizant of what was going on, but would, nevertheless, consent to the last wager standing - on one condition, and that was that regardless of winner or loser, it was to be the last bet between us, which he agreed to. Again he consented, and again I had to await his coming up.

        I should have said that before starting yesterday, I went to my crew and gave them an insight of the whole matter, praising their fortitude and endurance, and promising each a scudo extra if they should win the race, and a glass of Cognac each to brace them up. To a man, they responded with alacrity, only requesting, through the interpreter, not to pass the grog until the old reis went on the upper deck to say his prayers, thus proving that despite the Prophet's mandate against strong drink some of his followers are not averse to disregarding it.

        I believe that when my Anglican arrived the next morning

he had to write his name on a slip of paper, to be presented at the bank of Cairo, and so the cost of my excursion on the Nile was virtually defrayed by a stranger. I do not commend my example to others, and especially to young men, for I have always detested gambling, and despised gamblers, but, like Harry Warrington, I was here betting, as it seemed to him and to me, for the honor of the country.

        Upon arrival in Cairo, I went to our Consulate and was handed a large batch of letters from home, including a letter of credit from the Messrs. Baring in renewal. Upon return to the hotel, we made inquiry for Captain Marshall, formerly of Boston, and were told that he was quite sick but desired to see me. Going to his room, he remarked with the languor of a dying man: "I have been quite sick since you left for your trip up the river, and the doctors tell me that unless I can get out of the country before the simoon sets in a week hence, my life will be the penalty, but unfortunately I am out of funds. Could you, without inconvenience to yourself, cash my check for fifty pounds ($250) on Baring Bros., which will be paid on presentation?" As he had previously given me satisfactory references as to his identity, I cheerfully acceded to his request, and furthermore asked him if he would not like to have me sleep in his room on a cot, in order to attend to his wants during the night. "No," he replied, "no, I will not put you to that trouble, but if you wake up during the night I would like for you to look in to see whether I am dead or not." This I promised to do, and did.

        On arrival in Paris, I enclosed his check to the Barings. "No funds with us, and if he is the man we take him to be, while he is of a good family he is, nevertheless, one of the most unmitigated and systematic swindlers on either continent, living on the credulity of his countrymen." Such I found him to be and here hold him up to the scorn and execration of the traveling public as a rogue void of shame and of conscience.

        Shortly after arrival in Paris I had ordered a set of expensive diamonds for my wife, but as the day of departure of the steamer drew near, not receiving a renewal of my letter of credit, I felt in an awkward dilemma. The first thing to do was to wait on the diamond merchants and state the true condition of the case, adding that I was expecting funds by that mail, and asking if they could not turn the jewels over to me in London, offering to pay the traveling expenses of their agent and, if necessary, the English customs dues. To my surprise and extreme delight, they made not the slightest objection to the proposition, but promptly replied that the casket would be handed to me at my address in London three days from that time, and free from customs duties, as was done.

        Thereupon I telegraphed my old friend Major Leon Dyer, a retired banker of large means, living in Frankfort-on-the-Main, requesting him to meet me in London the next day and let me have a requisite amount, in case of delay in remittance. His answer was: "Your telegram found me on a sick bed, but I will join you in London as requested." This he did but was put to needless trouble, as a letter from the Barings was awaiting me at my hotel, stating that they had ascertained my identity and that I could get the amount requested by calling at the bank. This I mentioned to Major Dyer, but he remarked that he had taken the needed securities from deposit and that it would be an accommodation if I would take them at their market value, which I did and so reported at the bank.

        By the way, a word about this good friend and accomplished gentleman. As a boy he had headed the mob which tore down Reverdy Johnson's house in Baltimore a few years previously. Being compelled to fly to escape arrest, he turned up in New Orleans, and although then a man of large wealth he enlisted in the army, in order to avoid further trouble with the authorities, and with his detachment went to Florida in the

Seminole war of that day, where he quickly attracted the notice of that gallant old soldier, General Gaines, then in command of that department, who gave him the highest non-commissioned rank at his disposal. When my father was raising his brigade in New Orleans for the Texas army, General Gaines requested him to give him an appointment on his staff, which he did, and thereby made a fast friend of the young man to the end of his life, as the following incident will show.

        Computing the interest on his advance and likewise traveling expenses, with a view to making a draft at thirty days to cover the same, I handed it to him for his approval. "What is this?" he said. Upon being told, he tore it up, remarking: "I will have you know, young man, that your father's son cannot pay me interest. He found me an enlisted man in the army and gave me a commission, thus giving me recognition among gentlemen, and I have loved him as a father from that day to this."

        He further said that he had brought along a landscape gardener whom I had engaged on my way through Frankfort, as his body-servant, as he had to smuggle him out of Germany because the Franco-Italian-Austrian war was then going on and all German subjects were liable to immediate conscription. Shipping him to my commission merchants in New York, I directed them to express him to me down to Warrenton. This they did by sewing a large placard on his back. Being at the White Sulphur with my family, on his arrival my father turned him over to the 'Duke of Gloucester,' an old beneficiary of mother's whom she had bought out of charity on the death of his old master, Dr. Brodies, metamorphosed from a driver into a gardener. As illustration of the old maxim - two of a trade never agree - Gloucester was working up in one corner of the garden, and the Dutchman in another as far removed as it was possible to be. First

addressing Gloucester, I asked him what he thought of the new gardener that I sent down to help him. Looking around suspiciously and putting his hand up to his mouth, he replied dogmatically: "Marse Wharton, he is the damnedest fool that I have ever seen. Why, sir, he can't talk; I holloas at him as loud as I can bawl, and he don't understand a word I says." In extenuation for Dutchie's colloquial powers, be it said that when he and I were signing a life contract the previous year, I voluntarily increased his price $50 a year on condition that he would never attempt to speak Dutch while on my place. But came the reply: "I can't talk anything else." "Then keep mum until you have picked up a little good old-fashioned English." As a consequence, probably no son of the 'Vater land' ever made better progress in our expressive tongue than did Heinrich. It grieved me much at the end of the year to have to cane and dismiss him, on being told that he threatened to shoot me if I did not mend my ways to suit him. I heard later on that he had gotten to be a professor of modern languages in some learned Northern college. As he claimed to be a graduate of a famous German University, his dismissal was probably tantamount to promotion.

        It should have been said that before leaving Cairo, we took a day to run out to Suez to see the spot where Moses and his cohorts made their famous passage across the Red Sea. In the middle of the desert, and at a one-room station, a young man, apparently about twenty, got in the compartment with us, and spoke to me in orthodox English. On my asking where he was from and what he was doing out there all by himself, he replied: "I am from Marengo County, Alabama. When sixteen years of age my father thrashed me, as I thought without cause, and I ran away from home; went down to Mobile and shipped before the mast. On arrival in London I found employment in the telegraph office, and a

little later on, when it was determined to send a number of us boys to do service in Egypt, I was selected to fill out the complement. Shortly after, I fortunately attracted the notice of the Khedive, who appointed me superintendent of all the telegraph lines in Egypt." Expressing doubt by a look of incredulity on my countenance, "Indeed," said I, "and what is your salary?" "Five-thousand dollars for the first year with a promise of increase at the end of that time, if my work is satisfactory." On reaching Suez, he was met at the train by about a score of young fellows of his own age, who treated him with the greatest courtesy and deference. My doubts as to the truth of his story had about vanished. After getting dinner, he and some of his comrades came around to the hotel to escort us to the return train to Cairo, on reaching which I ask my landlord 'Who is in charge of the telegraph lines in this country?' "Why," said he, "a young countryman of yours who is but a mere lad." I have frequently wondered what was the future outcome of that precocious youngster, for that he had a future in store I did not doubt.

        The return trip was far from agreeable, for although there were double panes of glass on the windows, a heavy windstorm filled our compartment so full of fine sand that it was almost impossible for us to breathe. Before reaching the journey's end, a beautiful gazelle jumped up and went bounding over the sandy waste. We were ensconced on board one of the O. & P. steamers bound for Marseilles, after touching at Malta. After reaching that place, our vessel was ordered into quarantine as it was claimed it was from an infected port. While waiting, there was ample opportunity to admire the beautiful harbor, including the Chateau d'If, from which State Prison Dumas' hero - Monte Christo - made his incredible escape. The thought of all was that we were in for a confinement of thirty or forty days, but we little reckoned

of what was supposed to be an idle boast on the part of an English Baronet, who was on his way home from his regiment in India. He persistently said that he would have us admitted to "Pratique" as soon as he could communicate with the Emperor, for he added, while the Emperor was in exile in England, he used to pass days and weeks with me at my country home, and all who know Louis Napoleon will attest that he never forgets a friend or a kindness. Most of us had retired when there was a great uproar on deck, and the cry spread that the Emperor had admitted our vessel to 'Pratique,' which meant that we could go ashore whenever we pleased. There was no more jest or ribald laugh at the Baronet's expense. He had suddenly become a hero.

        With the rising sun there was hasty disembarking. After two days' stay in that city, we turned face to Geneva where a week was passed in and around Lake Leman, and then back to Paris, which was in a state of frenzied French excitement, as the Emperor was to start the next day to take command of the Allied Army in Italy. He passed just below our window on the first floor with his lovely wife, the beautiful Eugenie, by his side, and the procession halted for a minute, which gave good opportunity to study his inscrutable face and character. It was an intellectual physiognomy, and almost prepared me to believe what the Hon. William C. Rives told me just after his return from Paris, where he had been serving as the American Minister at the Imperial Court, that he regarded the then head of France as the brainiest head in France, if not out of France, he added. Unfortunate, he doubtless was, but never a weakling.

        A few days later we saw Her Majesty, good Queen Victoria, going in royal state to open a parliament of her great country. Having previously had, unsolicited, the blessing of

Pio Nono, it may be said that we had seen the three Governing Rulers of Europe.

        A few days later we were on board the "Persia" in the Mersey (a vessel of 3,000 tons) then accounted the largest steamer afloat, with one exception. How it pales in the shadow of the 15,000 tonners of this day. A pleasant company and a delightful passage home we had. Verily, as Parson Jasper so forcibly expresses it, "the sun do move," and he might have added - and so do the earth.

        On reaching New York we proceeded the next day to Boston, where the oldest child, Sarah Wharton, now Mrs. Pembroke Jones, was born at our country place in Jamaica Plain on the 19th of July, 1859, whom, when she was a month old, we brought to our North Carolina home, "Esmeralda," in Warren County. Everybody seemed glad to see us back after a fourteen-months absence, and glad enough we were to get back. We all had had a surfeit of foreign lands and foreign customs.

        The next two years gave unmistakable portents of the great political storm which was brewing. While every one felt the gravity of the occasion, few cared to avert it by truckling submission to dangers more to be dreaded than war. Still our fields were cultivated, and the social amenities like-wise, as if not realizing that the brink of revolution was impending. The summer of 1860 was passed at the White Sulphur, Virginia, and never was there a larger or gayer crowd at that far-famed resort. It seems wondrous strange, in view of subsequent events, that the South should have been apparently so callous. A strange eventful period it was, on the eve of the most momentous epoch in the world's history.

        For the next few months, the South throughout its borders was organizing, arming and equipping, for the inevitable conflict. With scores of others of Warren's young sons I was enrolled as a high private in the Warren Guards, and

I am proud to be able to state that the gallant company was one of the first three to report at the camp of organization in Raleigh. Three companies unanimously expressed their preference for me for the Colonelcy of the First North Carolina Regiment, for which I am, and always will be, duly proud and appreciative. Colonel, afterwards General D. H. Hill, than whom a braver, more skillful and tactical officer figured not in the war to follow - a few at the top alone, perhaps, excepted - received the coveted honor.

        Resuming my place in the ranks, I went with the command down to Norfolk, then daily threatened by overwhelming odds. While drilling and preparing for the coming clash at Camp 'Misery,' as the boys familiarly dubbed it, news reached me that I had been designated by General Henry A. Wise to be a colonel in his Legion, as then known. The appointment was not only unsought but entirely unexpected, yet nevertheless appreciated, for regarding General Wise as one of the foremost political thinkers of the time I was simple enough to give him the credit of being a great incipient soldier. The outcome, like that in many other political appointments, proved the prognostic to be rather illusory.

        But straighway getting my discharge from the twelfth North Carolina Regiment, I set to work to raise one of my own. The last official act of North Carolina's initial great war Governor, John W. Ellis, was to give me an order for seven hundred and fifty Enfield rifles, the only ones that remained in North Carolina, if not in the Confederate States, and, of course, their possession was much sought by companies throughout the State. I soon had seventeen tendered me from which to choose my ten, but while organizing at the new fair grounds in Richmond, news came that his successor, Henry S. Clark, had arbitrarily taken my guns and given them to another. The announcement fell like a thunder clap,

for there is no concealing the fact that his action was a death blow to my fondest aspirations. There was no resisting the impulse of going to Raleigh and telling him, face to face, what I thought of his high-handed act. This was done in his office, in language more emphatic than diplomatic. Thereupon appeal was made to the Legislature for the redress of the grievance. Not having other guns to give me to supply the place of the Enfield's taken, that body unanimously voted me $50,000 to purchase arms wherever they could be found. The finding, unfortunately, was the chief difficulty, for they could not be found.

        Resolved, however, not to be kept out of the unpleasantness by the want of shooting utensils, I at once set to work to supply the deficiency with double-barrel guns. Fortunately, glorious old John Letcher, the then war governor of Virginia, came to the rescue and gave me an order for three hundred old-fashioned flint-lock muskets, which were quickly altered by the Government into percussions. So that, if we were not armed and equipped after the most approved fashion, we, nevertheless, had guns that would kill, and trusted that after the first battle our friends, the enemy, would supply us with better. I am proud to say that there was no higgling or complaining on the part of my gallant command on the score of indifferent equipment, and furthermore that, after supplying each man with a warm overcoat, over one-half of the amount advanced me was later on returned to the State treasury.

        Before the regiment was completed, I was ordered to Wilmington to await the arrival of the other three companies, having only seven, numbering in the aggregate about seven hundred and fifty men. The accomplished gentleman, General Anderson, was in command at that place. Shortly after arrival I received a long, rambling letter from General Wise, telling me to report at once with my command at Roanoke

Island, as he was convinced that that would be the next point of attack, Hatteras having already fallen. On asking General Anderson when I could proceed to obey the order, he replied: "If you attempt to do so at all, I will put you under arrest. Inasmuch as you came to me by direct order of the Secretary of War, no less a power has any right to diminish my force by taking you away." I then requested permission to dispatch my next in command, Major Mark Erwin, to Richmond to get the requisite permission to move at once to Roanoke Island. His reply was: "Yes, Major Erwin can wait on the Secretary of War in regard to the matter, but he will take my protest against your being moved away from here, as my force is totally inadequate as it stands." I then asked him if I might not prefer a personal request to the War Office, to go as directed by General Wise, to which he assented.

        On the third day Major Erwin returned from Richmond with an order from the Secretary to proceed at once to the designated point. Breaking camp on Masonboro Sound, where we were stationed, we proceeded at daybreak the next morning to Wilmington to take a special train to Weldon, which was as far as could be supplied. Arriving there, I was under the necessity of impressing transportation to Norfolk, where we reported to General Huger who assigned us quarters, remarking that it would probably be a day or two before we could proceed, owing to the scarcity of transports. On the second day we did, the General cautioning me to keep a sharp lookout on the captain of the tug, as he was suspected of being in sympathy with the enemy, and might give me the slip and run over to Fort Monroe and impart dangerous information. To keep him in touch and my eye upon him, I went on board the tug with Lieutenant B. P. Williamson, now of Raleigh. About midnight on the night of the 7th of February, while

a cold drizzling rain was in progress and the waves running high, he rushed into the cabin to tell me that the enemy's boats were approaching, having previously called a halt on the pretext that he had lost his bearings, was in shallow water, and was liable to run aground at any minute, advising me to anchor where we were until day-break, and pledging himself to land us on the island in three hours thereafter. His fright, real or pretended, called to mind General Huger's caution to keep an eye on him, and I exclaimed: "Yes, you traitor, and you have signaled them!" As I said so, he jumped to the door and made a hasty retreat around the side. Grabbing my revolver, I started in hot pursuit, resolved to shoot him as soon as within reach. He rushed into the pilot house, and pulled the door after him as I grabbed the knob to pull it open. I, fortunately for him, stepped on a round stick of wood and fell backward into Croatan Sound. The night was dark as erebus, the waves running high, and to make matters worse, I had on a thick blanket overcoat and a pair of heavy alligator shoes into which I had hastily pushed my feet. It seemed as if there was no escape, and no bottom to the water. Rising to the surface I dropped my revolver and kicked off my shoes as I looked around to catch a glimpse of the little steamer, but not a sign of it could be seen as I had ordered all lights to be put out on it and the seven transports in tow. Then came the rapidity of thought, of which we are told, in a moment of extreme danger. Reasoning that inasmuch as I went over backwards, the boat must needs be in the opposite direction, I struck out at haphazard to try and reach it, and was just about exhausted as I did. Throwing up my hands, I barely managed to get the first joints of my fingers over the sides, but was utterly unable to pull myself aboard. Calling for help, the man whose life had been saved by the mishap, came to the rescue and took

hold of both my wrists, after inquiring spasmodically where was the revolver. On being told it was at the bottom of the ocean, he still evinced no intention of pulling me aboard. Convinced he was debating in his own mind whether to drown me or not, I called to Williamson: "Hurry there, as that Yankee dog is about to drown me!" Of which purpose he disclaimed the slightest idea. Getting me on deck, he exclaimed, "There is no cause for alarm, Colonel, for they are Confederate boats." Upon asking how he knew, he replied - "They are burning wood, instead of coal," as proved to be the case when some six or eight little gunboats passed within hailing distance, but showed no disposition to stop or to heed my appeal for a pilot, when told who I was and my condition.

        The thought has more than once obtruded itself since, was the mishap a providential interposition or otherwise? It probably protracted the creature's worthless life, and saved me a lifelong term of self-reproach, but cost the young government millions of dollars in invaluable stores and munitions when the evacuation of Norfolk began, as he then deserted on his little boat and carried the much coveted news to the Fort, which necessitated the loss by fire or capture of said stores. Still, it would have brought misery home to have shot him under premature misapprehension.

        As I learned afterwards, they kept on to Elizabeth and burned their boats. After drawing off and begging or buying a pair of old shoes from one of the men, I was delighted to see daylight appear, and immediately got under way, reaching the island in the time the fellow said we would. Throwing the horses overboard to swim to the shore, the men jumped in and waded out, when ammunition was at once distributed, preparatory to my reporting to General Wise, as was supposed, but he was over on the mainland at Nagshead, while Colonel Shaw, of the Eighth was in immediate command.

        On reaching his quarters he said everything had been

lost. Asking how many men had been killed on our side, he gave a ridiculously small number. Upon my asking him if he was going to surrender the most important point on the Atlantic Coast and send in such an insignificant mortuary list, he replied: "What do you advise?" I then told him I had seven hundred and fifty fresh troops just landed, and pledged myself to hold the advancing foe in check if he would collect the scattered troops and come to our assistance, which he promised to do, and sent Major Webb as guide to point out the road that they would be likely to come on.

        Before proceeding a half mile we came in full view of their advanced regiments, which were driven back on their main support, with heavy loss, as we later learned, and the Second Battalion in that brief space sustained a heavier loss than any other regiment had in the two days' fighting. While in the line of battle awaiting their return, and looking backward in expectancy of the promised succor, Lieutenant Colonel, afterwards Governor, Daniel G. Fowle, went by at a furious pace, waving a white rag and bawling back, "Don't fire any more, the island is surrendered!" Indignant at the needless loss to which I had been subjected under the promise of reinforcements, I marched my command back to headquarters and demanded permission to return to my boats with a view to escaping to the mainland. The reply came: "If you do so, it will be at your peril, as I have sent word to General Burnside that the island and all on it was surrendered to overwhelming odds."

        A few days later with all the other troops on the island, we were marched on board the steamer "Spalding," to be carried, as was supposed, to Fort Warren in Boston Harbor, but General Burnside, whom I have ever found a courteous gentleman, determined to keep us there in the hope of inducing his government to consent to a release on parole until

an exchange could be effected, which was done some week or two later.

        Just before leaving the camp a laughable incident occurred at my expense. My body-servant Guilford, who had belonged to me for years before, and has been with me ever since, began blubbering on a high key. In reply to the question of some of the Federal officers: "What are you crying about?" he said: "You are taking Marse Wharton off to jail where he will have to take care of himself, and the Lord knows that he never did know how to take care of himself." A few days after that he was a party to an exchange, probably the first and last in which two of his race participated. Burnside coming on board one day, sent for me, remarking: "Colonel, your negro man is bothering me to death to let him go with you to prison, and to get rid of him I have brought him over with me and turn him over to you. I will take it as a favor if you will induce your War Secretary to give me up mine, who was captured at Bull Run." The arrangement was duly effected. I venture to give another anecdote of this faithful servant and devoted friend, who was afterwards captured with me in the wounded train on the retreat from Gettysburg. After General Burnside had returned to shore, Guilford requested me to move to the rear of the vessel out of earshot of others, which was done. Coming up, he looked around suspiciously to see that no one was near by, and then began mysteriously: "Marse Wharton, I have a piece of information that might be of great service to our folks if you are exchanged before going to prison." He then proceeded to tell me that the day before, on his daily visit to the Commanding General to press his request to be allowed to go to prison with me, the latter said he couldn't see him then as he was busy, but to come back later and we would hear what he had to say. Then the following: "As it was rather warm I took a seat on the ground, at the back of his headquarters,

and soon saw a number of big generals coming up and, as I supposed, entering. My curiosity was aroused to know what was going on, so, shutting my eyes as if asleep, I kept my ears open and on the stretch, for I soon gathered that it was a counsel of war, as I believe they call it, and were talking about where to strike us next. General Foster, as I took him to be, was for moving on Norfolk at once and taking it on the land side, while their ships should make a pretense by water from Old Point. All the small-fry generals thought that a good plan, but General Burnside upset it, when he up and spoke and said: 'Gentlemen, we have got to starve these people into submission, and here's how I think it can be done. Eastern North Carolina is the corn-crib of the so-called Confederacy, and if we hold the key, they cannot get into it. Therefore, my advice is, let us take Newbern and hold it as the base of operations.' It is needless to say his counsel prevailed." Commending him for his connected story, I told him that when we were sent home on parole, as was now pretty well settled would be the case, my hands and tongue would be tied, but that his would not, and gave him this command: "When you get to Norfolk, call on our old Colonel, Sol Williams, of the Twelfth, and repeat to him in confidence what you have told me, and ask him to take you to General Huger and vouch for your reliability; or if he is not there, to our old Captain, Ben Wade, of the Warren Guards." This was done, and General Huger praised him highly for his report, saying that he would send it at once by special messenger to the War Office. I am unadvised if this was ever done, but do know that the battles at Newbern and above were fought a few days later on. He passed into my possession by purchase from my cousin, General M. W. Ransom, who he has ever believed, and will die believing, was the biggest man that ever set foot in our State, "always excepting Marse General Jackson, who everybody knows was the best judge of good horses, good

hounds, game cocks and game men, that ever lived, Marse Jeff Davis, Marse Robert Lee, and General Forrest, coming next." Such was the report given long afterwards by one of the best men that ever lived in the world, Dr. Frank Patterson, as the two old night owls would sit over the midnight camp fire discussing men, measures, and metaphysics, when the rest of the camp would be wrapped in slumber. It is needless to say that his pre-eminent hero was not he of the foot cavalry, but the one of the cotton bales, both being of kindred taste and proclivities, that is, he and Guilford. The champion of the valley would never be accused of any or either of the enumerated weaknesses, always barring the last, for he ever held in highest admiration game men, especially if they were fleet of foot on the approach of a fight. Therein 'Hickory' and 'Stonewall' were in such close touch and unity of accord, that they might easily have been confounded as double first cousins, owing to the identity of family name and the significance of nickname. These and other striking traits in common were so marked that I can't help believing that they must have had a close common grand-father in the 'ould country.' Observe, a common nationality and a common religion, hard-shell, hard fighting, imperious, self-willed Presbyterians, both as brave as Cæsar, as alert as the leopard, but self-restrained self-counsellors, each permeated by the same instinctive love of fight that possesses the bull-dog or the game-cock, but holding native instinct in subordination to reason, both imbued with the same sublime love of truth, respect for women and love of children, and utter detestation for falsehood, hypocrisy, or double-face. I tell you, gentlemen, that these two great soldiers, sagacious citizens, and good men, must have been close akin. God shrive the sins of each, and bless them both. Selah!

        To recur to the transfer of ownership, let it be said that it was the outcome of simple charity on both sides. He had,

inadvertently, fallen in love with Melissa, my wife's dressing maid and needle woman, and as the two plantations lay in separate counties, it was a more difficult feat than Leander's for man and maid to get a glimpse of each other until the Gordian knot was cut in manner stated, and eight or ten grown up and well-to-do children attest the honesty and sincerity of their devotion through near half a century. By such change of proprietary possession, a faithful servitor and devoted friend fell to my lot, while my honored kinsman could but feel well content that he had received as equivalent the biggest purchase money in all probability ever paid for 'the brother in black' in our State, if not in any other.

        Another little anecdote illustrative of the fidelity of some of that race, and which has its humorous as well as pathetic side, and we pass on. Major Erwin had as attendant a strong able-bodied man as black as the ace of spades, who had been raised with him, and who held him in heart love and proof against wrong or ill doing. Reaching Norfolk in a drenching rain on our way to the island, we found an aide of the General awaiting to pilot us to our quarters. The Major was exceedingly sick, and I told him to remain on the ferry-boat until I could send down a conveyance for him. This, however, was unknown to faithful Jason, who, when he saw the command moving off, concluded that "Marse Mark" was being left, and wouldn't be able to take part in the approaching fight. So, shouldering him bodily, he came trudging on with his load of love and duty at the rear of the column. After the surrender, Jason hit on a novel expedient for replenishing his master's wardrobe, as will be seen. Just after reaching Elizabeth City on our return home, and after the preliminaries of parole had been complied with, Jason, who by some means, best known to himself, had slipped through on one of the exchange transports, beckoned the Major aside, while unwrapping a newspaper package which he had

carried with fond tenacity under his left arm. "Marse Mark," he began, "see what I have focht you," as he displayed a splendid broadcloth overcoat, fresh from the hands of "Snip," and which had evidently seen very little rough service up to that time. Anticipating fulsome commendation on his 'cuteness,' poor Jason was utterly surprised and nonplussed to hear his beloved master explode in a cyclone of oratory for which he was State wide famous, modulating emphasis, as here given.

CHAPTER XIV.

        After being duly paroled at Elizabeth City, we took up the line march to our respective homes as prisoners of war, pledged not to take up arms again until duly exchanged, Norfolk being the first objective point to respective destinations, where transportation was furnished. There we were compelled to remain in inglorious ease until called to Richmond a short while afterwards to take place in line again, a cartel of exchange between the two governments having been agreed upon.

        During those days events of greatest moment were transpiring. Great battles were being fought and won, and great men dying. Well do I recall my father's coming into my room one day, and remarking:

        "My son, we have won a great and glorious victory in the West, but it has been a dearly purchased one for us, for the price we paid for it was the incomparable Sidney Johnston, who fell in the very zenith of decisive victory."

        Like Mr. Davis, my father had a due appreciation of that illustrious man, and thought that his loss was tantamount to twenty-thousand men. Apropos, an anecdote which Mrs. Davis gave to me herself shortly before the President's death:

        "My husband," she said, "having heard that General Johnston was on his way to Texas from California, had grown most restive and impatient at his non-arrival in reach. Confined to a sick bed, he had constantly exclaimed: 'Why don't he come, why don't he come?' Finally, the news reached Richmond that he had arrived, after incredible hardships in his perilous ride from the Pacific, in San Antonio. It found my husband on a sick bed and grown very petulant by reason of anxiety, which was relieved on the instant by

the welcome news of his having reached our purlieus. For the next day or two he was exceedingly cross and, as I thought, unreasonably so, crying out continually: "Why don't he come, why don't he come?" I was inclined to think it the outburst of delirium, when suddenly springing up in bed, he exclaimed: 'There he is! there he is! Let him in at once! Why don't you go and open the door?' Taking in the drift of his thoughts, I rushed down stairs to the front door, and there stood General Johnston. His first exclamation was 'How is he? how is he?' And the next instant he was making his way up stairs, two or three steps at a time. On my reaching our room, there the two stood, clasped in loving embrace in each other's arms."

        Call it prescience, instinct, or what you will, it was certainly wonderful that the almost imperceptible footfall on the front piazza had imparted to his Chief the news of his arrival. He was at once nominated to the chief command of the Confederate Army and assigned to the Department of the West, whither he started after due deliberation and instructions from President Davis, Bowling Green, I think, being his destination.

        It is now known that his force and resources were totally inadequate to meet the enemy in his front. Forts Henry and Donelson fell in quick succession, thus necessitating our falling back into Tennessee. On reaching Nashville with a remnant of his improvised force, he found the whole country in a state of clamor against his retention in command, every one, from the Legislature down, being in a state of outcry against his being kept in command.

        Such was the condition of affairs as he moved on south to place the Tennessee River between himself and the advancing enemy. Such was the condition of affairs whilst reorganizing his force, when the enemy, under command of

General Grant, crossed the river and halted near the bank, little dreaming that the fugitive Confederate chieftain would, at the opportune moment, turn and give him a crushing blow, as he did, but, unfortunately for the young government, as the price of his priceless life.

        It is now a matter of historic record that the Federal commander and his cohorts were utterly routed, demoralized, and in flight, seeking refuge under the banks of the river, when that unfortunate event happened. The sequel followed, as a matter of course, when his successor called a needless halt in the rich camp of the enemy instead of pushing him to a final finish, as Sidney Johnston would have done had his priceless life been prolonged for a few brief hours, and as Bedford Forrest would have done had the command devolved upon him as his successor.

        Before morning of the next day General Buell, with overwhelming reinforcements, arrived on the opposite bank, and by sunrise had his command transported over and himself placed in touch with the lately routed Federal commander. The result was, as might have been seen, the relinquishment of all of the advantages gained the day before and a total reversal of the situation.

        Such was the most momentous and ominous event that transpired in those days of our brief, but enforced, inaction. I here repeat, as my deliberate conviction, the statement published by his illustrious son, Colonel William Preston Johnston, that had he lived for one brief day, aye, an hour only, the Confederate States would have taken their place at the council board of nations. Not to have had the honor of being his successor would I, for one, be willing to shoulder the responsibility of that extraordinary and needless outcome sequent upon the fall of that great commander. As President Davis said to the Committee of the Tennessee Legislature,

that waited upon him to insist upon his displacement as being unfit for the command: "If Sidney Johnston is not a soldier, God help us; if so, I am fully persuaded that we haven't one."

        During the interim alluded to was fought a naval battle which may be said to have revolutionized marine conflicts ever since - the famous fight between the "Merrimac," on the Confederate side, and the "Monitor," on the Federal. The Confederate government took an old hulk of one of their war vessels, which was burned on the evacuation of Norfolk by the enemy, and improvised it into a rough iron-clad. Even before completed, it steamed out in Hampton Roads in full view of Fort Monroe and grappled with three or four naval vessels of the enemy, destroying two of them - the "Constitution" and the "Congress," and would doubtless, have inflicted much greater damage had not a strange looking craft, at this particular juncture, hoved in sight and compelled a cessation of the havoc, compelling the other (the "Merrimac,") to haul off and return to Norfolk.

        It was, doubtless, a novelty in marine conflict, that momentous struggle between these two odd-shaped crafts, which has left its impress upon all subsequent marine conflicts from that time to this. But for the opportune, or inopportune, arrival of the "Monitor," fancy is left in doubt as to what would have been the ultimate damage that would have been inflicted by the old 'turtle,' as it was facetiously dubbed, owing to its unique and peculiar appearance. A short time later on, it was deemed advisable to blow it up owing to an insufficiency of water to take it up to Richmond, and thus another of the fondest dreams of the young government went up in smoke.

        On being exchanged and reporting with my command in Richmond for orders, I was told to pitch camp at Drury's

Bluff, a most important defense point, owing to the precipitous bank overlooking the James from the south side, and to report to General Junius Daniel who was in command at that place. Here I was doomed to undergo another grievous disappointment, as on the reorganization I was defeated for command and one of my captains was elevated, for brief space, to my place.

        Returning home, I prepared at once to return to the ranks resolved to do my duty in some capacity in the mighty conflict. Before doing so, a strange coincidence took place for me. I was nominated for the State Senate, and, without counting the soldier vote, which was cast a day after the appointed one, was defeated by one vote; but, counting the other, was elected by some two or three hundred majority. Resolved to remain in no civic position during the struggle, I voluntarily relinquished the election to my competitor, Dr. Drake, and proceeded to Goldsboro to enlist again as a private soldier.

        General Daniel, however, insisted upon my taking an honorary appointment on his staff, preliminary to providing for me in a more substantial manner. It should have been said that during the same time an election was held in the old regiment, for Colonel, the Twelfth North Carolina, and I was placed in nomination, without my knowledge, and again came within one vote of an election, making the third time up to then that I had been beaten by a single vote; the other instance being, as stated, for the Presidency of the Jefferson Society at the University of Virginia - a remarkable coincidence, it be confessed, to have thus lost promotion on three different occasions by a single individual vote.

        During those days troops were moving in all directions, full of hope and enthusiasm, and long before, the commonest necessaries of life had run out, to be supplied by that mother

of invention termed necessity. From the Government down, it was illustrated in full. In the beginning, everything had to be improvised, from a percussion-cap to a constitution, powder works and ordnance factories, and those for small arms had to be gotten into shape on the spur of the moment, and well the deficiencies were supplied. Homespun was the universal wear for our women, and they wore it with pride and uncomplainingly, and never looked more lovely in the eyes of the men. Sorghum was the only substitute for sugar; all sorts there were for coffee, with no complaining from anyone. Patriotism and enthusiasm supplied the place of luxuries.

        It was undoubtedly an epoch of the grandest self-sacrifice for what they believed in that any age or any land ever knew. Glad I am to have lived in that era and played my little part, for it was one of glorious patriotic self-sacrifice for opinion's sake. The remark is applicable only to the Southern contingent, for at the North never were wants more readily supplied, and in greatest abundance, thus opening the door to the inconceivable fortunes and boundless luxuries that have followed in that quarter.

        Shortly after reporting, our brigade was ordered and moved on to Little Washington, then threatened by the enemy, camping just below Greenville. The next day General Daniel and I went down to General D. H. Hill's headquarters.

        Be it understood that Little Washington was then in possession of the Federals and running short of provisions and munitions, and our movement was to prevent these being thrown in from New Bern. To do this, we had erected a little fortification at a narrow point of the river (known as Fort Hill) to prevent the passage of their gunboats in reinforcing the town.

        Generals Hill, Daniel, and Beverley Robertson, Colonel

Bridges and myself, rode down to see how the garrison were deporting themselves. The enemy's gunboats, some seven or eight in number, were lying just out of reach of our little popguns, but placing us in easy range of theirs, and they were shelling us at their leisure and to their hearts' content. Up to that time, however, none of our men had been wounded, but we had not been inside over ten minutes before one of their large shells exploded just to our rear and a ten-pound piece of it knocked me over.

        After being carried to a farmhouse a mile to the rear, the other gentlemen passed me on the return, and General Daniel promised to send my old surgeon (Dr. Patterson), then his brigade surgeon, down to look after me that night, which he did some three hours later. The next morning I was removed back to headquarters, where I found an indefinite furlough awaiting me from General Hill, he supposing that I would not be fit for duty for a long time to come. On reaching home the next day, I went into ordinary for three or four days, but fearful that the town would fall during my absence, started back on crutches, allowing just one week after having left camp, much to the surprise of my friends.

        In the meantime, General Foster had passed our obstructive point with reinforcements and munitions, thus rendering abortive the object in view of keeping them out. Each command was then ordered to return to their respective starting points, Kinston being ours. Nothing of interest occurred until a combined movement was made for the capture of New Bern, where the enemy were entrenched in force. As the country surrounding is of a low, marshy condition, and there had been continuous rains for many days anterior, the men were up to their middle in water most of the time.

        By misadvertence on our part, the Federals were able to concentrate their gunboats and be prepared for the attack, which was to have been a surprise, and so, like the King of

France and his ten thousand men, we had nothing to do but to march back again, the difficulty being to find a dry spot upon which to lie down. General Hill was the only one in the command who had tent and camp equipage along, and he kindly invited General Daniel and myself to share it with him, which was most gladly accepted.

        Shortly after, the brigade was ordered to move up to the Rappahannock and report to General Lee. Daniel, who was an old West Point friend, remarked to me at dinner:

        "It must be close on to a hundred miles between here and your house. Are you willing to make the journey for the privilege of staying one night at home, and report day after tomorrow in Richmond?"

        My reply was an immediate command to Guilford to saddle the horses at once, which he gladly did, as his wife, as well as mine, was back on the plantation. That afternoon we made some thirty-odd miles and were kindly entertained by a widow lady and her daughter, starting the next day by sunrise. We reached home the next day about dusk, much to the surprise of all the family, having made, by close computation, ninety-three miles from the start. My mount was the finest animal that I have ever seen under saddle, and made his five miles an hour throughout without breaking a walk, whilst Guilford's was kept in almost a continual trot in order to keep up. The next morning we were again on the road for the Warrenton depot en route to Richmond.

        Rejoining the Staff there, we pushed on to Hamilton's Crossing, a few miles short of Fredericksburg, where the command lay inactive until the order came to take up the line of march, for what destination no one knew with certainty, but some surmised that the Potomac, if not the Federal Capital, was the point in view. It being the latter part of June, and the hottest spell of weather that I have almost

ever seen, the troops suffered intensely on the march, fainting in numbers by the roadside.

        On reaching Winchester we were advised that the enemy were in force at the little village of Berryville, a few miles farther on, and General Rhodes, the division commander, was ordered to push on and intercept their retreat. This was near being accomplished, but the officer in command at that place, the notorious Milroy, one of the three generals who were outlawed by President Davis for their brutal and unsoldierly conduct (Butler and Turchin being the other two), was able to effect his escape. On entering their camps, a fine young New Foundland dog became my property by capture until both he and I were recaptured on the night of July fourth, on the retreat from Gettysburg in the wounded and ordnance train.

        Crossing the Potomac the next day, we moved on to Hagerstown and went into camp for two or three days to enable the scattered commands to concentrate as directed. A laughable incident might be recorded upon our entering the town of Front Royal, the people of which were frantic with delight at seeing "the boys in grey" once more. General Gaston Lewis and myself were riding near the head of the column when we saw two ladies with pails of buttermilk at the front gate, who asked us to take some of it. Every old soldier knows that such an invitation could not be refused, and whilst partaking of their generous hospitality our brigade passed by, and some fellow in line sang out:

        "Come out of that, you know you have got a wife and baby at home; and if you don't, I'll tell on you."

        The vile outcry was taken up and continued until the last man of Daniel's brigade had passed, much to my confusion, one of the young ladies remarking -

        "I need not ask which one of you it is, for your countenance has fastened it on you" (pointing to me).

        While halting in Hagerstown an old friend and connection of mine, Judge Alvey, gave me an invitation, to be extended to the rest of my immediate friends, to come and take dinner with him and his family the next day, Sunday. He was just back from Fort Warren, where he had passed an enforced sojourn owing to his strong Southern proclivities, and his good wife was much concerned lest our hobnobbing with her illustrious husband would not send him back there as soon as we should leave. "But, my dear madam," was my rejoinder, "we have no idea of taking a back track across the Potomac; we have come to stay." And such was the feeling of the others. Alas! in some two short weeks her apprehensions were verified, and that superb army was re-fording the river back into Virginia; but it was not permitted me to be of the number, as I was unavoidably detained and held in durance vile for nearly two years thereafter.

        Greencastle was our next halting place, for a day or two, where it seemed that all of the Pennsylvania Dutch for a hundred miles around about had come to look glum at our audacity in venturing so far in their midst. Riding into town with my old friend, Colonel Mercer, we stopped at the house of one of these and called for a little liquid refreshment, which, on being produced in a wash pitcher, Mercer poured himself out a bumper, and was about to toss it off when I cautioned him to hold up, remarking I had heard that when in the enemy's country and partaking of his hospitality it is advisable to make your host drink the first toast, concluding with the invitation: "My friend, kindly drink to the health of President Davis, General Lee, and the Confederate cause!" The poor Dutchie's countenance fell at once as he replied: "I have not drank the viskey for twenty years or more!" Mercer's suspicions were at once aroused that he had put a sweetening in it not conducive to sanitation. Taking out his revolver, he said: "If you have

not drank the 'viskey' for one hundred years, you shall drink that toast!" To which the poor fellow rejoined: "Oh, do not shoot me; I vill drink the toast"; and after inviting the Colonel to join him in a stirrup-cup, gave us each a bottle to take back to camp. Mercer and I were, doubtless, the avant couriers in that hostile crowd, and felt no compunction at the enforced hospitality to which our Pennsylvania friend was subjected.

        The next day Ewell's corps moved on to Carlisle Barracks, then a Federal post, but which had been evacuated upon news of the approach of unwelcome visitors. The next day being Sunday, it was resolved that the Stars and Stripes, which had been cut down from the flagpole, should be replaced by the Stars and Bars. The pole was replaced with the young flag floating at the masthead. It would seem that if there was ever opportunity to let fall a flow of eloquence, it was on that auspicious occasion, but there was no adequate response from any of our distinguished leaders to calls made upon them, thus showing that heroism and oratory do not always go hand in hand.

        During the night courier after courier was delivering messages in hot haste to General Ewell to move back in the direction of Gettysburg, as the enemy were concentrating in force in that vicinity. This was done without needless delay, a halt being called for the night at the little village of Heidlersburg, located some ten or fifteen miles from another village, about to be made immortal in the conflict then to follow.

        As illustrative of the futility of dreams, visions, and portents, I was aroused by a dream or premonition that a mighty battle had been fought and that I was one of the earliest victims. Shaking off the fancy as a baseless fabric of a vision, I turned over and went to sleep again, and again it was brought home in renewed force, and so, I think, a third hallucination followed. My eyes were strangers to sleep the

rest of that night, and when the next morning we were told by our Brigadier that probably the decisive battle of the war would be fought that day, the dreams of the night before were brought home most forcibly, intensified by each reverberating gun as we neared the field of conflict.

        The brigade was drawn up in line at a no remote distance from those of the Federals, who at once began to shell us. The order was given for the command to lie down, and here exploded perhaps the most destructive single shell fired during the war. While General Daniel and I were holding our horses some six or eight paces in front of the line, it fell just to our rear. My recollection was that it killed and disabled eleven of my old command, but Dr. H. T. Bahnson, then perhaps the youngest boy in the battalion, now one of the leading physicians of North Carolina, corrected my recollection by saying that thirteen were rendered hors de combat. After an interchange of an artillery duel for a short while, the command was deployed preparatory to a charge.

        I was ordered to go with the right wing of the command, and when we were about half-way to the enemy's line the order came for us to lie down so that our guns in the rear could play upon them; then came the command "Up and charge!" Suddenly we were on the brink of a chasm in the railroad since known as the Deep Cut, when the enemy opened on us with both field pieces and small arms, and before it could be prevented the men were jumping down into the Cut with the view to scrambling up on the other side, which was found to be impracticable owing to the precipitous sides encountered. To make matters worse, some masked guns opened an enfilading fire, which was most destructive. It has been stated that Daniel's brigade lost more in that death-trap in fifteen minutes than was lost by any other brigade in the three days' fighting.

        Advising Colonel Brabble, the senior officer, to face to the

left, clear the defile, fall a few paces to the rear, reorganize, and then charge, it occurred to me that then was my opportunity to offset my own loss, which was deemed inevitable. Taking up a musket, I managed with difficulty to crawl to the top of the embankment, and saw the enemy drawn up in line about a hundred yards in front, behind an old Virgina worm fence. They soon began to advance, but with no alacrity for the work. Seeing a field officer in front, urging them on whilst waving his hat, the thought occurred that his loss might be of considerable advantage to us in checking the advance. He fell on the instant, which occasioned a momentary halt, and letting myself aloose at the top, recovered an upright position at the bottom, but in a dilapidated plight. A jutting root or jagged rock caught in my breeches' leg and tore it from the bottom to the top, losing hat also in the fall. On recovering an upright position, I was knocked down again almost immediately afterwards, either by a minnie or piece of shell, when my old Adjutant, Austin Green, rushed up and supported me to the rear, advising the field hospital as soon as it could be reached. Reaching my horse, which had been left in the rear, I mounted and started back for it, arriving some twenty minutes later.

        Already the ground was covered by the wounded and mangled, while three of the Medical Staff, including Dr. Frank Patterson, the brigade chief of that department, were hard at work, their coats off and sleeves rolled up, to stem the torrent of death, having a couple of impromptu tables for operating purposes. They were an honor to the profession, those three noble gentlemen. For two or three days ensuing there was no relaxation, or let up, in their gruesome work, if even a slight snatch of sleep. The pile of amputated limbs were rapidly increasing in size, but still they persevered in their glorious work.

        At the height of the terrific artillery duel, in which some

three or four hundred guns were belching forth destruction on opposing sides, Bill, one of the General's body-servants, who had been sent back for provisions for his master, came up to me and upon my asking him if he wasn't scared down there amongst all those big guns, replied: "No, sir; Mars June's down there, and if he can stand it I reckon I can."

        On the fourth day of the hell carnival that was going on, the great Captain, after his terrific loss to gain possession of Round Top hill, and running short of ammunition, deemed it essential to order a retreat so as to place the Potomac between himself and Meade. Those who were able to stand the trip on wheels proceeded to do so, including Captain Bond of the Staff and myself, our friends having impressed a little one-horse team for the occasion. Bond had received an ugly wound in his body, while I had one in the back of my head.

        The weird procession started on the back track, and about sunrise on the morning of the immortal fourth making a train of vehicles some eleven miles in length, including wounded ordnance as well as men. Towards nightfall, on entering a defile in the hills, desultory firing in the front broke on the ear, growing more frequent upon every step of the advance. It was soon learned that Kilpatrick had been detached with his division to intercept the retreat of the train, for failing to do which he should have been court-martialed for utter incompetency for command, as that long train had but three squadrons of cavalry for guard to oppose his thousands. From time to time a horse or mule would be knocked down from the opposite sides of the road, thus occasioning delay by a halt to detach him from the harness and drag him to one side.

        Things were in this condition when the defile was cleared, and the little mounted guard left the rear and went forward in hot haste. It was a bright moonlight night, about ten o'clock, when it occurred, and a heavy ordnance wagon loaded with

damaged guns, in attempting to pass our little wagon took off a wheel and dropped us in the middle of the road. On the instant, a score of blue-coated cavalry were upon us with their revolvers leveled almost in touch. Then it was that the utility of gab was made manifest for once, for Guilford spoke with a fluency of tongue rarely, if ever, surpassed by any of his race: "Don't shoot, gentlemen, for God's sake, don't shoot. We surrender. We are prisoners;" and so we were.

        Being then ordered to get up in the old gun-wagon, which was not the easiest ambulance conceivable, the twenty or thirty vehicles which had been captured by the doughty Major- General, were ordered to move forward, but soon made a detour, going to the rear, as the rumor ran that Jeb Stuart, with his entire command, was waiting for the other to come up. After moving at a rapid gait the rest of the night, about sunrise the next morning we passed the identical spot where the mishap befell us the night before. This was impressed upon the mind by seeing my Berryville pup sitting down in the broken down wagon and to keep guard over it.

        On stopping for dinner, an old friend, Major C. C. Blacknall, came up and asked how I was off for transportation, and upon being told, he remarked: "I am pretty much in the same plight, and don't propose to stand it any longer." This was said with some difficulty of articulation as he had had a pretty rough operation of dentistry two days before, a musket-ball entering one side of his jaw, taking out a half-dozen of his teeth, and coming out on the other. Continuing, he remarked: "I see a very neat little turnout under those trees there. Let's go and take possession;" which was done. Soon an aide-de-camp rode up and demanded to know what we were doing in General Custer's carriage. The reply came - "We are wounded prisoners, and demand the right of transportation." He went back to his commander and reported, and soon returned to us with the gratifying message: "The

General says you may ride in it the rest of to-day, but he will be damned if you haven't got to look out for other accommodation to-morrow." His decision proved that he was a gentleman, as little Powder Horn showed later on that he was a hero, falling into a trap of hostile savages, and losing his own life and that of every man in his command.

        Shortly after starting on the evening march and reaching the top of a high hill, a courier came dashing in in hot haste and reported that Stuart was near by and then advancing. The head of the column was at once turned and we went down that hill faster than we came up, reaching the village below (Smithfield, I think the name). Everything was in a state of confusion. Blacknall remarked to me in an under-tone:

        "Now's our opportunity. These fellows are thoroughly panicked, and if old Jeb would only drop a few shells over here, they would take to their heels in hot haste. Now, let's go out and lie down on the sidewalk there and groan as hard as we can."

        We did, and simulated broken bones as well as could be. The Dutch ladies came around, but evinced no sympathy for our woeful condition. One of them remarked: "Served them right. I wish it had taken off their heads instead."

        Just then the order came to continue the march, but our vehicle having disappeared in the confusion we continued to groan and wait for Stuart's shells. The last wagons were disappearing on the retreat when a Federal surgeon came up and asked us what we were doing there. My reply was that we were wounded men and if he expected us to keep up with the procession he must send a vehicle back to take us up. This was done, the occupants of one of them being hustled out in a hurry to make room for the wounded prisoners.

        The march was continued in double-quick time until about ten o'clock at night, and a halt was called, and we went into camp. The next day the wounded were left at the hospital

in Frederick, and were well cared for. A dear little Sister of Charity took me in hand and dressed my wound most carefully. When breakfast was brought in the next morning and I had partaken of mine, I remarked to the hospital steward: "I wish you would give my boy something to eat." He instantly replied: "I see no boy about here." "Well, sir, if you prefer the expression, my man." "Why didn't you let him eat with you?" was the saucy reply; and mine was: "'Guilford, tell this fellow why you didn't eat breakfast with me." And his answer was: "I would as soon have thought of sticking my head in the fire as to sit down to a table with Mars Wharton." "Mars," he said, "there are no masters around here, nor men either." To which I rejoined: "Hark ye, sir, I have had enough of your insolence. I know your master, Colonel ---, who was an old friend of mine, and if there is any more of it, you will be reported to him and reduced to the ranks again." The threat had the desired effect on the creature, and he quieted down after bringing Guilford his breakfast.

        The next day we were moved down to Fort McHenry, near Baltimore, a change for the worse, and from there to Fort Delaware, below Philadelphia, the next day. The officer in command there was one General Schoepff, as it leaked out - lately a waiter in the dining-room of Willard's hotel, and a more pretentious, overweening upstart I have never seen. The Field and Staff were quartered inside of the Fort, while the other prisoners had to rough it on the outside as being more accessible to the General's emissaries who were trying to induce them to take the oath. In going out for an afternoon swim, Colonel Baxter Smith and Major Jack Thompson got an opportunity to speak to a squad of our men and urged them, under no circumstances, to take the oath as we would probably be exchanged. The circumstance was duly reported to the doughty Dutchman in command, who had

them both marched off to the dark prison, where they were confined and fed on bread and water for a day or two thereafter.

        On the fact being reported to Major Burton, an officer of the old army and second in command at this place, he waited on General Schoepff and denounced his conduct as cruel, unsoldierly, and unjustified, threatening, that if the two gentlemen were not immediately sent back to quarters, he would throw up his commission and report the case in person at the War Office in Washington. The worthy Major's threat had the desired effect and our two friends were ushered back into their old quarters, not in most amiable mood as might be imagined.

        Major Thompson, who was of a fiery nature, took his seat on the side of his bunk, and remained silent for some time, when he suddenly burst forth with: "When we get back to Richmond, I will wait on President Davis and tender one-half of all that I am worth for the privilege of keeping Castle Thunder for one week." To which a little chaplain replied: "Major, if you got it, you would treat the poor fellows better than you think you would." Jack rejoined, in high dudgeon: "If you think so, parson, you don't know what a damned bad heart I have got," which caused the whole room to explode with laughter.

        Another laughable little incident occurred when Schoepff came around to tell us that we were to be transferred from his custody to another's elsewhere, but said he was not at liberty to divulge the place, adding: "You will be well gratified with the change, and all I ask is that you give your paroles not to attempt to escape whilst on the road." Some of us protested against doing so as it was a novel proceeding to put prisoners, under guard, on the word not to escape if opportunity is offered. His rejoinder came: "Those who refuse to do so will be placed in condition where escape will be

impossible, for I will have handcuffs on all who do." Captain Surrat, of a :Mississippi regiment, was in a room with us, hatless, coatless, and barefooted. The General, thinking he had gotten inside surreptitiously and that he was a private, who should have been on the outside, asked him insolently:

        "What are you doing in here?" and the Captain replied:

        "I joined the Tishimingo Invincibles to fight for the liberties of my country, and they made me Commissary of the regiment. On the march one day I was sent off with a squad in search of forage, and as the weather was mighty hot I took off my coat and shoes, and was loading my wagons with corn at a crib when a company of your calvary dashed up and seized us all. As we were going along, and I was mounted behind one of your men, my hat fell off, and I told the gentleman in front to please let me get down and pick it up, but he refused to do it, saying, 'If you get off this horse I will blow your rebel brains out,' and I didn't do it. I was brought here with other prisoners, and turned over to you, and that's what I'm doing in here."

        The impression was that the Tishimingo Invincibles got the best of that fight.

        In due time we reached Johnson's Island, in Lake Erie, a prison for officers, where some two thousand were already confined and the number continually increasing. On the whole, it was a decided improvement over the last two prisons, as it was more commodious and roomy. There were eleven or twelve two-story blocks in two parallel rows, extending the length of the prison yard, the two upper ones being cut up into small rooms for the Field Staff, into one of which I was fortunate enough to gain admittance. These rooms were about fifteen feet square for the accommodation of eight prisoners each, three tiers of bunks being allotted for sleeping purpose. Here the next twenty-two months of our uneventful lives were passed to little purpose. The prison guard consisted of a regiment of 'home guards,' who had enlisted

for that special duty with the understanding that they were not to be sent to the front. As might be expected, they were not as considerate for our comfort as old soldiers would have been, as the following anecdote will illustrate:

        After a six-months sojourn under their supervision, a badly decimated brigade under General Shaler, who had lost an arm, was sent on from Virginia to relieve Major Pearson in command. The improvement in our condition and treatment became obvious from the very first. One day an altercation took place between a member of each command, the home guard fellow remarking to the old soldier: "You fellows treat these rebels with as much politeness as if they were some of our folks;" to which Shaler's man replied: "And you fellows, who have never smelt powder, treat them as if they were dogs. If you had helped to catch them as we have, you would have more respect for them, for we know what they are."

        There was no more needless shooting of prisoners after their coming, as there had been under the redoubtable 'stay-at- homes', who enjoyed, of all things, some slight excuse for making a target of some of us. There was one young rascal especially who took a special delight in shooting a rebel. The change was so marked in our treatment under the two commands that there soon came to be a better entente cordiale between us and Shaler's boys than there was between us and Pearson's. For one, and I think for all, we felt grateful to these old war veterans for their marked courtesy and civility.

        Eight of our number resolved to attempt an escape, the plan being to dig a hole or well some three feet deep through the dining-room floor of Block No. 1, and then to strike off at right angles until past the fence on which a guard was stationed, and then come up on the outside, all precautions being taken to conceal their work. In due time the tunnel

was finished, and it was decided by lot which of the workmen should go first, and in rotation. There had been heavy rains for a day or two when the eventful night came, and the cavity under ground was almost half filled with water. Two had gotten through when it came to the lot of an Arkansas Bayard to take his turn. He was Captain Cole, a large and powerful man, and his frame was too huge for the little hole. On emerging his head and shoulders from the outside aperture, he found it was impossible to pull himself through. Calling, in subdued tone, to the man next behind, his condition, and telling him to go back and warn the others, Cole remained there in a cold drenching rain until after reveille, the next morning, when he called for assistance and had himself drug out more dead than alive. He was taken to General Shaler's headquarters, and the facts reported. The General asked him: "When you found that you were stuck in a hole, Captain, why didn't you call for relief sooner?" To which came the noble reply: "Because it would have been dishonorable; two of my comrades were already through, and if I had sounded the alarm, they would have been recaptured." Shaler's reply was: "Captain Cole, you are a hero and a noble fellow, and I guess the best thing you can do is to take a stiff drink of whiskey in the plight you are in, and to have yourself rubbed down with the same;" which was done by the General's orderly, Shaler giving him a bottle to take back to the prison-pen for his own exclusive use. One of the young officers of the Home Guards remarked, in surprise, to one of the scarred veterans: "It's well for that fellow that you all came before he fell into the hands of General Shaler, for Major Pearson would have had him in the dark prison and fed on bread and water, if he had been in command." The reply came "Your whole command could

not turn out one such man as that noble fellow, who has just been sent back into the prison yard."

        One of Shaler's superb works of charity was to permit details from each mess to go down to the banks of the lake and get buckets of fresh water for the use of the others. Up to that time, our wants in that regard had to be supplied from shallow wells or, more properly, seip-holes, not over six or eight feet deep and, of course, only surface drainage. A pretty fat graveyard was left behind when that island was vacated, but had it not been for that thoughtful kindness on his part it would, doubtless, have been much greater by many fold.

        And so the first summer passed in dull-fretting monotony, and winter came on, and what a winter it was! For days, and even weeks, the mercury ranged between 25 and 30 degrees below zero, and as these structures were of weather-board and without plaster, and a totally inadequate supply of fuel to keep us from freezing, the suffering was intense. At night the bedding would have to be doubled, and the men compelled to sleep by reliefs or installments, one-half under cover while the other was sitting around a stove to keep from freezing. But we were living in daily hope that the cartel exchange would soon be ratified and that we could go back and resume places with our comrades in ranks.

        But still another summer came and went, and the delusive hope failed of fruition; and so, another winter too, whilst our numbers were being constantly repleted and depleted, the first by capture, and the last by death. The hospital was kept filled to repletion, as I can attest from actual experience, for a month or more, being on the sick-list during that time and forced to take refuge within its limits.

        And here I propose to pay humble tribute to three as noble fellows as it has been my privilege to meet in all life - the

hospital nurses. One of them was named Carpenter, a native son of the Emerald Isle, who had enlisted in an Alabama regiment. He and the two others seemed to be ubiquitous amongst the sick and wounded cots. If Carpenter ever slept, it is more than I can tell; but certainly, I never called him, in daytime or night, that he was not instantly at my side to know what was wanted. When convalescence set in for me, I asked him one day: "Carpenter, what do you get for this?" The noble fellow seemed hurt by the question. "Get?" says he: "Colonel, I hope you do not suppose I am doing this work for pay." "If not, what for?" was my reply. "Because," quoth he, "it is my duty." Says I: "My friend, there are three thousand other men on this accursed island who do not seem to regard it as their duty." "No, but mine is a peculiar case; you see, that when it was known that we had to fall back after the three days fight at Gettysburg, my brigadier called for volunteers to look after the sick and wounded until the enemy should come up and take charge of them. Volunteering wasn't very brisk that day, and I too held back in hopes that others would anticipate the call; but as they didn't, I told my colonel that I would be one of the number. And so you see, Colonel, that having volunteered for the work, I have no right to shirk or give it up now." "My friend," I said, "that may be a strained view to take, but to my thinking you are not only a hero but a self-sacrificing philanthropist. Let me thank you from the bottom of an overflowing heart, my friend, for your attentions to me, and, from my observation, to others.

        On returning to my room, I set to work to raise some little token in recognition of their noble work and succeeded in collecting nearly two hundred dollars in greenbacks. On handing the money to him, his voice became choked and he remarked in the rich brogue of his land: "The devil of a cent

of it will I take." "And if the two others are like-minded," was my reply, "what is to be done with it?" "Set it aside for a hospital fund," he replied; "relieve these poor gentlemen who need it more than we." "Well, then, my noble friend; you must consent to take it and act as their almoner."

        I regret that the names of the two others have escaped me, but trust that the world has since been good to all of them. When it is taken into consideration that they were undergoing all the drudgery of the pesthouse, even carrying out the remains of those who died, there is no denying that here was heroism and sense of duty surpassing that of a deadly charge on the battlefield.

        As said, various expedients were resorted to to secure escape, even to attempted escapade of the sentry's beat by a few bold and determined spirits, in which a gallant hero, Captain Bowles, of Kentucky, lost his life in mounting the scaling ladder.

        Another project which came near being successful was when Colonel Thomas, the cidevant "French Lady," with a dozen secret volunteers, took passage at Detroit on one of the large lake steamers for Buffalo, an understanding being that on preconcerted signal they were to overpower the officers of the boat, reduce the crew and passengers to subjection, landing the last at the first convenient point, and push in to Johnson's Island, where it was understood we would rise, overpower the guard, secure their arms, and take passage for Canada. Things worked to a charm up to the point of capturning the boat and landing the passengers, and whilst a few of us were on the lookout for the rocket-signal that was to tell of their coming, including Generals Trimble and Archer, it became manifest by another signal given that the scheme had miscarried, it having become known that the Government war

vessel "Michigan," had anchored the day before off the island, which would naturally make the attempt abortive.

        As the scheme is now recalled, the correspondence between General Trimble, the ranking officer on the island, and Colonel Thomas, strange as it may sound, was carried on through the columns of a New York daily, the 'Herald,' I believe, and was after this wise, Thomas representing a Lothario under an assumed name proposing to run off with his sweetheart whom we will designate as Mary, for short, and who was impersonated by that one-legged old veteran, General Isaac R. Trimble, of Baltimore. Thomas's message would run: "To Mary. The carriage will be at your gate on such a night. Be ready and prepared to meet it." The answer, in due time, would be: "Your notice of coming has been received, and Mary will be ready as directed."

        The sequel to have been, as intimated, was that the few who were in the plot were to rush from block to block and impart the information that help was at hand, and that all that was necessary for us to do was to overcome the guard on the island, capture their boats and steam away to the Queen's dominions. The plot was not widely divulged for fear of its reaching the outside before time, and when it became obvious that there was some miscarriage in its development the hearts of all sank within them. The papers, in due time, gave an outline of the failure of the attempt, and General Trimble's visitors returned to their respective rooms much cast down and heavy at heart.

        It may be added, in this connection, that an under officer of the "Michigan" dropped a note to the engineer of that boat, giving a hint of the plot on foot. The confusion of the last one on reading it excited the suspicions of the captain, and taking the communication from the hands of the other his

suspicions became verified, and counter arrangements were made to intercept the arrival of the "French lady."

        Thus failed another well-conceived scheme to restore the officers on the island to their respective commands across the Potomac. One other, perhaps, to the same intent, and I have done on that line.

        During that awfully cold spell, when the ice was about two feet thick around our prison pen, the thought was conceived that if the frost only extended across to the Canadian border we might rise and disarm the guard, as already set forth, and steal a march on them for the other side. The only question was to determine whether the ice extended all the way across in order that the attempt might be made. In our then condition, it was impossible to tell without outside information, and this was suppressed by an embargo on all papers for a few days thereafter. It was later known that Lake Erie was frozen from shore to shore. The rescue of the denizens on Johnson's Island might have given a different issue to the ultimate struggle. "Alas! the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglee."

        A word additional regarding the hospital. It was in charge, by courtesy, of three Confederate surgeons, namely, Major Stedman, Colonel Maxwell, and Captain Sessions, men eminent in their profession, but who were enrolled on the line of killers instead of curers. Active and efficient they all were in their new assignment to duty. The Federal surgeons who had supervision of the establishment were Drs. Woodward, a kindhearted and thorough gentleman, who did all in his power to alleviate the sufferings of those with whom he was brought in contact, and one Eversman from the vater land, as the name imports, who would have been a concentration of the bully and blackguard had he possessed the first requisite for that position. Cruel and overbearing he was by nature,

and delighted in giving needless offence. There was a natural repugnance between this last-named pill-maker and myself, and deeming that my days were numbered I was not backward in giving him my estimate of his true character on the occasions of his daily visits. The first-named of these is still held in grateful remembrance by every prisoner with whom he was brought in contact, the last, in utter loathing. Commentary: It matters not how exalted may be the position of those in power, it is far better for posthumous fame that they prefer the roll of gentleman to that of the bully.

        Before quitting the medical staff, it is perhaps apposite to the occasion to speak of another of the Eversman order, a kind of orderly, hospital steward, or something of the sort, by the name of Foster, the most universal petty rogue within my knowledge. He had the distribution of certain packages sent through the express, and in the beginning of his duties was content to appropriate about twenty per cent of the contents; but immunity from discovery prompted him by degrees to extend his stealage. He rose to 30, 40, 50, and finally to 70 per cent, when my patience became thoroughly exhausted, and I told him that his cupidity, to call it by a mild name, would be reported to General Shaler if his conduct was not corrected. Thereupon he put on the air of a much injured man, and remarked in high dudgeon: "I would have you know, Colonel Green, that I am an officer of the United States Army, and no man shall twit me with stealing." My reply was: "Then leave it off, Foster, and no man will do it." Am glad to say that after my little moral lecture to the fellow and threat of exposure, he let up somewhat on his avarice of appropriation of others goods.

        One of the most popular of our jailers was Lieutenant- Colonel Scoville, who for the life of him couldn't say "No." He had charge of approving all papers emanating from the

inside on the powers that be, and never failed to affix his signature to each and every one, which amounted to little in the end. As his amiable weakness had long been seen through, a wag from Florida resolved to have a little fun out of him, and made a formal requisition on the Secretary of War, embracing six field-pounders with grape and other suitable ammunition for the same, one thousand muskets, and ten thousand rounds of ammunition, one hundred sabres well sharpened, and ten thousand rations. The worthy colonel, without running his eye over the novel document, signed it, and promised to deliver to his chief, Colonel Pearson, who was in high dudgeon when he saw that Scoville had approved the requisition. Suffice it, that none of these essential articles looking to a severance of enforced connection ever came to hand. Let it be added that Scoville was another to whom the proud old prefix 'gentleman' might be applied. He strayed down to Nashville after the war, and he and his old friend, Fite, became great cronies. Whilst many thought him more profuse of promise than performance, they, nevertheless, made allowance for the prompting impulse at the bottom, which forbade his hurting the feelings of others.

        Having thus given a brief glimpse of the character of our jailers, perhaps brief allusion to some of the jail-birds would not be out of place. First of all, of glorious old Isaac Trimble, one of the early graduates of the Military Academy, and the engineer- in-chief of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. After espousing our side, he rapidly reached the rank of major-general, and caught a musket-ball in his leg at Chancellorsville. "Cut it off, Doctor, cut it off," was his imperative command to the surgeon in charge. "No, General," came the reply; "I can save your leg." "And prevent my taking part in the campaign next across the Potomac, which I am convinced will not be far off." In Pickett's historic

charge he was second in command after Pender fell, and was picked up by the Federal ambulance men and carried back to an improvised hospital, when amputation of the previously wounded leg became imperative. Later on his own surgeon received permission to come and wait upon his chief, when, to his surprise, the old man opened upon him in language far from loving. "If, sir, you had obeyed my orders at Chancellorsville and taken off this leg, I could have kept on in that glorious charge up that hill. Let it be a lesson to you, sir, hereafter to always obey the orders of your superiors." I knew the old hero before and later on, and ever found him that kind-hearted, courtly gentleman; that he was born and died.

        John R. Fellows, a boy-lieutenant in General Beall's room, just opposite, was one whom it pleased me to study and honor. He was known in his adopted State of Arkansas as the Little Giant, in imitation of Stephen A. Douglass, the Little Giant of Illinois. His readiness of speech and flow of oratory were almost phenomenal. Although a Northern man by birth, he had run away from home when twelve years old, and developed in the wild woods of Arkansas. A single anecdote of his readiness of speech will illustrate the man. When, in due time, the 22d of February came along and our friends on the outside were making a great jubilee over the day, it occurred to some of us on the inside that we had as good, if not better, right to enthuse over George's natal day than they had; and a committee was appointed to wait on the Little Giant, who was asleep in his room, and demand that he come out at once and give us a counter blast on patriotism. He tried to get around it, but was forced down, vi et armis, and mounted on the platform of an upper floor around which a crowd was assembled, and for half an hour I have never heard such a burst of oratory as escaped his lips. The

crowd by this time had been augmented by almost every prisoner on the island, who vied with each other in outburst of applause. This became so great that the authorities on the outside concluded that we were premeditating an outbreak, and marched in a detachment of troops to quell or disperse us. Owing to our close-wedged mass, it took the officer in command some time to get to the foot of the stair-case, and just before he started to ascend the band on the outside struck up "The Star Spangled Banner," under which they were playing. Then it was inborn genius rose to the superlative. "Yes," he exclaimed, as if in rejoinder to the tune, "the Star Spangled Banner, yon flaunting lie; long may it wave over the land of the thief and the home of the knave." Perhaps the exordium did not bring down the house. As the Federal captain reached the top of the stair-case and tapped him on the shoulder, he said: "Look here, sir, this thing has got to stop." "Certainly, sir," said Fellows, in his suavest tones, "I had just finished as you came up," and we dispersed with three-cheers for the Little Giant of Arkansas. Later on, he married a young lady in Memphis as deficient in this world's gear as he was himself, and carried her on to New York with hardly the wherewith to pay passage, but his genius was infectious and soon he was made first assistant district attorney of the city of New York, and a little later full official of that position. Then it was determined that he would better fill the position of Member of Congress of the United States Legislature, and so they sent him to Washington by an overwhelming majority, and sent him again, in each of which positions he left a name behind. Am glad to say that I have had one visit from him after his exaltation, and he was on the way for another, which decrepitude cut short.

CHAPTER XV.

        Finally the auspicious day came. The prisoners were being sent home by alphabetical list, and the last batch before the surrender chanced to include my name, the last on the list, thus bringing in the fateful "No. 1" again. Nothing of incident occurred until going down Chesapeake Bay in an overcrowded cattle-boat in a drenching rain. Seeing no better place for sleeping quarters, I concluded to straddle a water-barrel just under the eaves of the boat. It was not a very comfortable accommodation as the water was trickling down my back all the time, but still it was the best that could be had. While trying to catch a moment's respite of slumber, it became obvious that some one was fumbling in my front pocket. Rousing myself, I saw that he was one of the guard, and grabbed him by the throat with my left hand while planting a full-aimed blow in his face with the other.

        On reaching Aiken's Landing, Virginia, the point of exchange, we were compelled to walk a mile or two over to where the Confederate boat came down, namely, "Varina." The Federal Commissioner of exchange planted a number of negro troops between us and the boat that we had to take, with orders to allow no one to go aboard until the order was given. The poor fellows, however, in their great anxiety to set foot on Confederate soil once more, made a rush for the gangway, when the darkey in charge of that particular point commenced backing with the outcry: "Keep back, white folks, keep back! If you don't keep back, how can I keep you back?" To my conception, the exclamation on his part was an admission of the value of that sort of material in war.

        The return from there to Richmond was a sort of tenderfoot affair as it was known that the river was planted with

torpedoes and the slightest deviation from line would probably occasion a blow-up. Arriving in the Capital city, things wore a gloomy look indeed preliminary to the final crash. Going to the Spottiswood Hotel with my friend General Rucker, a one-armed soldier of old Forrest's, who started into the breakfast-room, Rucker wearing a fancy hat with an ostrich feather which I had given him at Cumberland, Maryland, and which he proceeded to hang on a peg at the door. In reply to my caution that he had better take his head-gear in with him, he said: "No, Green, we are back in God's country now, where folks don't steal hats." On getting a very indifferent breakfast, after the Confederate menu, we saw only three or four capital coverings and lo! Rucker's was not of the number. They were to all appearances old campaigners with brims gone and holes through the tops. The poor General looked aghast, and remarked: "I don't know what has become of my hat." "Why," I said, "there it is," pointing to the most dilapidated specimen of the lot. Said I: "Recollect, Rucker, we are back in God's country, where folks don't steal hats." According to recollection, I had to shell out fifty dollars additional (Confederate, be it understood) for him to go down Main street in search of another head-covering.

        Two days later my home was reached on Shocco Creek, which I had left two years previously. It was a gala return all around, including white folks and negroes. After waiting ten or fifteen days, I proceeded to order another mount for myself and Guilford, and was about starting in search of the grand army when stragglers began dropping in, who with one accord reported that General Lee had surrendered. On this fact being established beyond doubt, my heart sank within me, and I am not ashamed to confess that I broke out blubbering and kept it up for an hour or two, for it was the great

disappointment in my life, the reflection constantly recurring - and all for naught. The success of our cause had been for long years the dream and hallucination of life, and the outcome was blank despair. Such, I presume, was the experience of most others who had staked all on the issue.

        Our friend, Mrs. William Polk, and cousin, Miss Currier, having made up their minds to go north in search of additional outfit, it became incumbent on me to go with them to Raleigh to secure passports for the trip, which was effected through two old West Point friends, Generals Schofield and Ruger. The two Confederate dames had gotten themselves up regardless for their re-advent into the fashionable world, but on making their entrance into the parlors of the old St. Nicholas Hotel there was an explosion of laughter at their uncouth appearance. My consolation to them, on their return was: "Well, it is some satisfaction to you to know that you created a sensation on your re-appearance."

        The next two or three years were a period of political uncertainty for the entire South, for no one knew what tomorrow would bring forth. At that period I was selected as one of the delegates to the National Democratic Convention, which was to assemble at New York. We met replete with foolish hope that something would be done to obliterate recent by-gones. Governor Seymour, than whom a purer, abler, more gifted man could not be found in the entire country, was the presiding officer, and later on received the nomination for President under his most earnest and strenuous protest. Two days later I met him on the boat going up to Saratoga, and his hopes for Democratic success seemed entirely to have vanished. He remarked just before reaching Albany, "You gentlemen from North Carolina forced my nomination upon the convention and thereby excluded all possibility of success at the polls " As I now recall his idea, policy enjoined

"TOKAY" VINEYARD.
Moved here from Warren County 27th of November, 1880, where we have since resided.