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LIBRARY OF THE COMMANDERY OF 
 THE STATE O F MASSACH US ETTS MILITARY 
 ORDER OF THE LOYAL LEGION OF THE 
 UN ITED STATES 
 
 CADET ARMORY, BOSTON 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
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MILITARY ORDER, 
 Loyal Legiofi. United Slates, 
 
 DZC141803 
 Commandery of 
 
 The State of ^iassachusGll-s. 
 
THE AID-DE-CAMP. 
 
 A. HOMANOE OF THE ^^AJR. 
 
 CHAi'lLlL 1. 
 
 IT was growing dark, and the evening wa3 very cold. The lamps 
 were lit, 'and the streets were filled with an eager throng hurrying 
 homeward — Baltimore always presents a busy scene at dark, aa peopl*- 
 of all classes and ages throng its streets, returning from their daily 
 avocations. The merchant and the mechanic, the professional mari 
 and the street laborer, the idler and the man of business, the million- 
 aire and the beggar, the eewiag girl and the lady of fashion, represen 
 sentatives of all classes, colors and nations under the sun, fill the streets. 
 Lurrying on as if their lives depended upon their speed ; jostling each 
 other unceremoniously, and filling the air with the Suimd of their 
 voices. I hav.- often stood upon the street at the hour of twilight, an<i 
 watched the scene before me with intense interest. One sees human 
 nature in all its forms, on the thoroughfares of Baltimo reat this hour. 
 
 This evening, the fourth of March, 1861, the sUroets were mor.- 
 crowded than usual. A dense throng poured through Howard ami 
 Liberty streets, into the great highway, Baltimore street, and mingling 
 with the groups already there, filled it to its utmost capacity. The 
 orowd which came in from the Washington Depot, was exceedingly 
 merry, and loud and repeated shouts rose upon the air. There could 
 be heard the shrill nasal twanged voice of the Yankee, and the coar.s.» 
 rough slang of the Western man. Around the Camden street Depot 
 all was bustle and confusion. The large building was black with peopk. 
 and the long trains, which were constantly arriving from Washington, 
 discharged their passengers and swelled the crowd. 
 
 It had been a gala day in Washington, and these people were return 
 ing from witnessing the inauguration of Abraham Lincoln to the Pre?i 
 dency of the United States, Fanaticism and sectional hate had suc- 
 ceeded in forcing an uncouth barbarian into the chair of Washington. 
 
8 The Aid- de-Camp. 
 
 ^nd the greatest Republic upon which the suu ever shone, was tottering 
 to its fall. 
 
 Moving on silently and moodily through the throng, as it hurried 
 from the depot, was a young man, whose appearance was so striking 
 that one could not help pausing to notice him. He was of medium 
 height and very slightly framed. He was dressed in a plain suit of 
 black, buttoned closely up to the throat, and he wore carelessly a drab 
 slouched hat. His features were irregular, but striking. There was a 
 firm, grave expression about the mouth, but the keen gray eyes shone 
 with a merry and mischievous twinkle. One felt at a glance that hf 
 was far above the average order of men — that he was born for distinc- 
 tion. The gentleman was Mr. Edward Marshall, a young Virginian, 
 who had been for several years a member of the Baltimore Bar. He 
 was twenty-seven years old, and was one of the most distinguished 
 young lawyers of the city. His irreproachable character commanded 
 universal respect, and his influence was very great. 
 
 Mr. Marshall had just returned from witnessing the inauguration, 
 and was silently and earnestly reflecting upon what he had seen and 
 heard that day. He passed on with the crowd up Liberty to Baltimore 
 street, and tlien pausing almost unconsciously, gazed at the throng, as 
 it hurried on, filling the air with its shouts and laughter. 
 
 "Aye! laugh on, ye besotted fools," he exclaimed bitterly. "Your 
 fanatical blindness has ruined the country." 
 
 He turned away, and was about to continue his walk up Liberty 
 street, when a hand was lai*i upon his shoulder, and a hearty voicf 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " Well, Edward, my friend, so you have gotten back. Come with 
 rue, and tell me all about the inauguration." 
 
 The speaker was an elderly gentleman with a frank, open face, and n. 
 cordial, winning air. Mr. Marshall recognized him, and took his hand 
 affectionately. 
 
 "You startled me, Mr. Worthington," said he. "I have ju?f 
 returned, and am in no condition to go home with you." 
 
 "Nonsense!" said Mr. Worthington, laughing good Lunioredly, and 
 taking the young man's arm. " Nonsense. You must go with me 
 Mary will think that the Abolitionists have made off with you, if 1 
 don't bring you with me. Come ! I will take no excuse." 
 
 And the eld gentleman bent his steps northward, leading the young 
 man, who seemed to follow very willingly in spite of his alleged unfit- 
 ness to do 30. After a little twisting and turning, they reached Cathe- 
 dral street, and paused before a large mansion. They ascended the 
 steps, ard before Mr. Worthington could apply his latch key, the door 
 
 RBQ 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 9 
 
 was thrown open. A pair of soft white arms were twined around his 
 neck, his lips were pressed by a dainty little mouth, and a musical voioc 
 murmured : 
 
 " Welcome, Papa ! How naughty to stay out so late." 
 
 " There ! there !" cried Mr. Worthington, laughingly, as he returned 
 the salute, and passed into the hall, " don't choke me, Mary. Here's 
 a young rascal behind me, who is waiting to come in for his share." 
 
 The young lady blushed, and turned to Mr. Marshall, who wa? 
 standing by the door, which he had closed. 
 
 '* I did not see you before," she said, holding out her hand. 
 
 The old gentleman passed into the parlor, but the young people lin- 
 gered in the hall. When they entered the parlor there was a bright 
 color on Miss Worthington's cheeks and a happy smile played around 
 Mr. Marshall's lips. 
 
 A bright fire was burning in the grate, and by it, in a comfortable 
 arm chair, Mrs. Worthington was sitting. She greeted the young man 
 rery cordially. Mr. Worthington had seated himself by his wife, and 
 had drawn a paper from his pocket, and was unfolding it, while he held 
 his feet to the fire. 
 
 *' Now, sir," said he, turning to Marshall; "make yourself as agree- 
 able as possible to the ladies, while I look over my ' Herald.' Kemem- 
 ber, not a word about what you saw in Washington until after supper.'' 
 
 He then opened tis paper, and was soon busily engaged in poring 
 over the long black columns of news. ^ 
 
 Mr. Worthington was a firm believer in fc^ "New York Herald." 
 Hb uniform good temper was seriously ruffled, and his enjoyment of 
 his supper greatly disturbed, if he failed to receive it in time to peruse 
 it before tea. After the cares and business of the day were over, it 
 was his chief delight to seat himself by the side of his wife and read 
 the " Herald" until supper was ready. " That Herald" interfered with 
 2iany of Mrs. Worthington's plans for pleasant chit-chats with her 
 husband before tea. I think there are many wives in the South who 
 are thankful that there is no longer a " Herald" to call their leige lords" 
 attention away from themselves, and who remember it only as an 
 unwelcome visitor. 
 
 Mr. MarshaH, whether in obedience to Mr. Worthington's injunction, 
 or the dictates of his own heart, I know not, turned his attention to the 
 ladies, and soon a very sprightly and interesting conversation sprang 
 up between them. Mr. Worthington would occasionally look up and join 
 in it for a moment, and then would he again be wrapped up in the con- 
 tents of his paper. 
 
 Soon supper was announced, and a fifth party was added to the 
 
10 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 gronp. He was Mr. Cbarlee Worthington, the only son and heir of 
 Mr. Nicholas Worthington, He was a young man of twenty-two or 
 twenty-three years of age, and in all respects worthy of the name he 
 bore. 
 
 After supper a visitor came in — Mr. William Harris, one of the most 
 prominent citizens of Baltimore. 
 
 When the family and their guests were seated around the parlor fir 
 Mr. Harris exclaimed abruptly, turning to his host : 
 
 " Well, Worthington, we are in for it. King Abe ia crowned and 
 throned at last." 
 
 *' Yes," replied Mr. Worthington, smiling. " But I do not envy him. 
 
 " Wait six months and you will envy him less j" said Mr. Harris, 
 gloomily. " There is only one course left for us to pursue — the Border 
 States must secede, and cast their lot with their Southern sisters " 
 
 " But Lincoln may be more conservative than you now anticipate," 
 said Mr. Worthington, who was unwilling to give up the Union, while 
 a hope of preserving it remained. 
 
 Mr. Harris was a thorough Secessionist. He shook his head incr* 
 dulously, and then asked : 
 
 " Have you heard anything from the Inaugural ?" 
 
 " Marshall heard it," said Mr. Worthington, turning to the young 
 man. " Come, Edward/' he added, " give us an account of what you 
 saw and he heard." 
 
 All eyes were turned upon Mr. Marshall, who began quietly : 
 
 " I went over to Washington last night, in order to avoid the crowd, 
 which I knew would be on the the trains this morning. I spent the 
 night with a friend — and thia morning went out upon the street very 
 early. The first thing that attracted my attention was a company of 
 soldiers stationed on the Aveuue. I walked on and saw another de- 
 -tachment, and finally discovered that there was scarcely a square of the 
 street that was not guarded by United States Regulars. The tops of 
 houses along the Avenue were lined with riflemen, and detachments of 
 artillery were stationed at various points throughout the city. Happen- 
 ing to know the officer in command of one of these detachments, I 
 approached him, and asked the cause of this extraordinary display of 
 force. He told me that fears were entertained of an attack on the city, 
 or an attempt to assassinate the President elect. General Scott had 
 deemed it best to prepare for the worst. It seems that the 'officials 
 feared that they would not be able to inaugurate Lincoln without the 
 presence of Federal bayonets. Once, during the day, I was standing 
 by General Scott, who was constantly receiving messages from all partf^ 
 of the city; and I heard him exclaim, in a tone of great relief: 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 11 
 
 " Everything is going on peaceably — thank God Almighty for it." 
 
 "The old reprobate," exclaimed Mr. Harris, vehemently. "But 
 pardon me for interrupting you. Go on." 
 
 " The Inauguration passed off quietly. Lincoln was escorted to tJfac 
 Capitol by a strong guard of cavalry, and was surrounded by troopi? 
 during the Inaugural ceremony. The whole affair wore an aspect cf 
 force which was painful, and I am afraid it was indicative of the future 
 policy of the new Administration." 
 
 " But what of the Inaugural ? Wliat did he say ?" asked Mr. 
 Harris, impatiently. 
 
 "I hardly know how to answer you, sir," replied Marshall, hesita- 
 tingly. " The Address was so ambiguous and unsatisfactory that I am 
 sure no two persons will construe it alike. He said that he will take 
 care that the laws are faithfully executed in all the States. He added", 
 that in doing this there will be no occasion for bloodshed or strife, unless 
 it shall be forced upon the national authority. He will hold the forts, 
 and places belonging to the Government, and he will collect the reve- 
 nue. I confess that [ do not like his address. I think it is intended 
 to deceive and trick the South. I think he means to try to force the 
 seceded States back into the Union." 
 
 Mr. Harris smiled scornfully, and Mr. Worthington gazed earnesti-y 
 into the fire, while Marshall continued : 
 
 " As for myself, I have been greatly influenced by it. All of m/ 
 doubts have been dispelled. What I have this day seen and heard in 
 Washington, has made me a thorough Secessionist." 
 
 " Good ! I like that !" cried Mr. Harris, seizing his hand. 
 
 " I fear that you are right," said Mr. Worthington, sadly. " But 
 God knows that my love for the South is not weakened by my devotion 
 to the Union. I love them both, and never desire to see them separated 
 if it can be avoided." 
 
 " But it cannot be avoided, my dear friend," said Mr. Harris. "You 
 must be one of us. Your true place is among the Southern-rights meu 
 of Maryland." 
 
 "Wait," replied his host; "and if I am more fully convinced of 
 that, I will go over to you. But not now." Then turning to MarshaJU, 
 he asked, " Who are in the Cabinet?" 
 
 " Seward is Secretary of State, and Chase of the Treasury — ifee 
 others I do not remember." 
 
 " Seward and Chase — bad men, bad men," exclaimed Mr. Worthing 
 ton, shaking his head disapprovingly. " I am afraid they meaa 
 war." 
 
 " Yes, and a bitter war, too," said Mr. Harris. " But tell me," ^xt 
 
12 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 continuecl, addressing Marshall, "did you see the Confederate Commie- 
 siouers, and what did they say of the condition of affairs?" 
 
 " I saw Mr. Forsythe this morning. He says that he and Mr. Craw- 
 ford will wait for a few days before presenting their credentials, in order 
 to give the new administration time to complete its necessary arrange- 
 ments. He seems to anticipate some trouble, and fears that the Federal 
 Grovernment will not recognise the claims of his Government to inde- 
 pendence. I have not seen him since the Inauguration, but I am sure 
 that Lincoln's address must have strengthened his fears." 
 
 There was a pause. Suddenly Mr. Harris asked : 
 
 « What will Virginia do?" 
 
 •' Leave the Union, sir, as soon as she is satisfied that it is her duty 
 to do so," replied Marshall. 
 
 "If she were out, Maryland could go at once," said Mr. Harris, 
 musingly. " I would give worlds if Maryland had a Governor who 
 could be trusted." 
 
 " But surely, Harris, Governor Hicks is a true man," said Mr. Wor- 
 thington. 
 
 " I do not think so," replied Mr. Harris, firmly. " He refuses to 
 oonvene the Legislature, because that body will summon a Convention, 
 and he does not believe that the people desire it. He knows this to be 
 false. From all parts of the State the people are demanding a Con- 
 vention, and he is daily importuned to allow us to hold one. No, sir, 
 he knows that we are for the South, and he has us in his power. But 
 ^or the injury that it would do the cause, I would propose hanging 
 Hicks to-morrow." 
 
 " You are too violent," said Mr. Worthington, with a sigh. 
 
 Mr. Harris was an ardent Southern -rights man. He felt the justice 
 of the Southern cause, he knew the popular sympathy with the South 
 that existed in Maryland, and he was anxious that the people should 
 have an opportunity of expressing their will. He felt outraged by, and 
 indignant at the conduct of the Governor, which was slowly but surel\ 
 betraying the State into the hands of the Federal Government. 
 
 Mr. Worthington was one of those conditional Union men who were 
 then to be met with all over the South. He loved the South, and h'> 
 felt deeply the wrongs that had been done to it ; but he loved th Union 
 also, and he did not wish to see it destroyed while a hope remained of 
 the South receiving justice in it. Failing in his efforts to suve the 
 Union, he was for immediate and final alliance with the Confederate 
 States. 
 
 Mr. Marshall had been a conservative Southern man. He bad justi 
 fied the course of the Southern States, while he had not been averse to 
 
The Aid'de-Camp. 18 
 
 n re-construction of the Union. But now Lincoln's inaugural ha3 
 made him an unconditional Secessionist. The ladies had beea 
 silent, but not uninterested listeners to the foregoing conversation. 
 .Soon it turned upon other subjects, and in a short time Mr. Harrici 
 took his leave. Young Mr. Worthington had an engagement, and Mi. 
 and Mrs. "Worthington took their departure from the parlor, and the 
 young people were left alone. 
 
 Miss Mary Worthington was, like most of the women of Baltimore, 
 small and beautifully formed. She was a lovely girl, with a fair and 
 smiling face, and large and merry blue eyes. She was only twenty 
 years old. She had been engaged to Marshall for six months, and in 
 i?ix months more she was to become his wife. She was a noble, whole 
 Bouled girl, and she was proud of her choice. Well might she have 
 been so. There were few men in Baltimore more worthy, in every 
 respect, of a woman's love than Edward Marshall. 
 
 It is not my purpose to make public what passed between the lovers 
 after the old folks left the parlor. I have no right to do so. Sucii 
 dcenes should be kept sacred from prying eyes. Though privileged to 
 remain, and hear abd see all that occurred, I know that a third party 
 is always in the way in such cases. Therefore I will follow the exam 
 pie of the old folks, and will retire and close the door behind me 
 
I 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 OPENED this narration mth incidents which occurred on the even- 
 ing succeeding the inauguration of Abraham Lincoln for purposes 
 of convenience. The position and the condition of the country are 
 too well known to the reader to require more than a brief review of 
 iiiem. 
 
 The secession of the State of South Carolina had severed the bonds 
 of the Union, and, one by one, the other Cotton States had followed 
 i:Qr example, until seven States which embodied the great agricultural 
 wealth of the country, had gone out fr ra the Union. These States 
 had confederated in a new Government, had created a new nation, and 
 had assumed all the rights and privileges of an independent Govern- 
 ment. The Confederate States had begun their career with a flatter- 
 iDg prospect for success Commissioners had been sent to Europe to 
 obtain from Foreign Powers the recognition of their independence and 
 separate nationality. Other Commmissioners had been sent to Wash- 
 ington to treat with the Federal Government upon terms compatible 
 with the dignity and interests of both nations. It was the sincere 
 desire of the new Government to avoid hostilities with the old, and the 
 Commissioners who had been sent to Washington were empowered to 
 treat with the old Government upon the most liberal and honorable 
 tsrms. From all parts of the country the Federal Government was 
 urged to receive and treat with the Commissioners, who reached Wash- 
 ington about the first of March. 
 
 The Confederate Government had been formed during the admin- 
 istration of President Buchanan. The United States pursued a weak 
 s.ad vacillating course. Mr. Buchanan seemed embarrassed. His 
 position was certainly trying, and it would have been well for the coun- 
 try had an abler and a better man filled it. 
 
 When the State of South Carolina seceded, the United States held 
 Forts Moultrie and Sumter in the harbor of Charleston. A pledge 
 was given by the United States Government that its military status in 
 that State should not be changed. The State then refrained from ma- 
 king any hostile demonstration upon the Federal forces who held its 
 principal harbor. 
 On Chiistmas day, Major Robert Anderson, the commandant of the 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 15 
 
 Federal troopa, dined with the authorities of Charleston, and lulled to 
 rest their suspicions of foul play, if indeed they entertained any. On 
 the night of the 26th of December, 1860, he evacuated Fort Moultrie 
 ind threw himself into Fort Sumter, an unfinished work, but one of 
 great strength, built on an artificial island in the harbor. He set fire 
 to the work that he evacuated, spiked its guns, and removed everything 
 that he could transport to Fort Sumter. The next day — the 27th— 
 this was discovered, and Fort Moultrie and Castle Pincknej were 
 seized and occupied by the State troops. The fire was extinguished 
 •it Fort Moultrie, and soon afterward^ the damage was repaired and the 
 Fort made stronger than ever. It was expected that the conduct of 
 Major Anderson, which was in direct violation of the pledge given by 
 the United States would be disapproved by his Government ; but Mr. 
 Buchanan not only refused to order him to return to Fort Moultrie, 
 but approved his conduct and sustained him in it. 
 
 Warned by this breach of faith, the State of South Carolina seized 
 'jpon all the property of the Federal Government within its limits, 
 '•ausing a strict account of it to be taken, in order that at the proper 
 time a settlement might be made with the Federal Government. The 
 surrender of Fort Sumter was demanded ; the demand being refasfd, 
 ihe State collected troops in the harbor, and proceeded to make other 
 preparations to reduce the hostile position. After the formation of the 
 Confederacy the troops were transferred to the Confederate Govern- 
 ment, and the works extended. The command was conferred upon 
 Brigadier General Beauregard of the Confederate army. After the 
 ■ iccupation of Fort Sumter by Major Anderson, his Government wae 
 'desirous of supplying him with proviiiocs and ammunition and of re- 
 inforcing the garrison with fresh troops. South Carolina very prop- 
 ►rly refused her consent to this, and the Federal Government resolved 
 to relieve the Fort at all hazards. In January the steamer " Star of 
 che West" was sent to the relief of Major Anderson, but was driven 
 back by the South Carolina batteries. 
 
 The only places in the Confederate States held by Federal troops 
 Tare Forts Sumter and Pickens — the former in ^Charleston harbor, 
 the latter on Santa 'Rosa Island in Pensacola Bay, Florida. The 
 troops assembled for the reduction of t^e latter Fort were commanded 
 by Brigadier General Bragg. 
 
 The administration cf Mr. Buchanan had been urged to evacuate 
 these Forts, and thus remove all cause for hostilities. This the Presz- 
 ient declined doing, but gave a pledge that the United States would 
 io nothing to bring about a collission between the opposing forccp, if 
 the South would not force it upon them. Had he withdrawn his troope 
 
16 The Aid-de-Oamp. 
 
 from the Southern forts, he would have removed the great evil whic^ 
 momentarily threatened to bring about a war : aad it is possible that 
 the war might have been averted. But he had not the moral courage 
 to do this. He was afraid to brave the storm which such a course 
 would have raised for the time in the North ; so he contented himself 
 with promising to refrain from inaugurating any hostile measures, if 
 the Southern States would do Ijikewise. He doubtless hoped to throw 
 all the weight and responsibility of the matter upon the incoming Ad- 
 ministration. "The Border Slave States had held aloof from their 
 more Southern sisters. They symp/ithized deeply with them, but wished 
 to exhaust all remedies before leaving the Union. Already they had 
 tried one expedient — the Peace Congress — and this, owing to Northern 
 obstinacy, had proved to be a failure. They were looking about them 
 for some new remedy. Such was the condition of affairs when Lin- 
 coln went into power. The country was quivering with the agonies of 
 dismemberment. The new President had it in his power, by pursuing 
 a wise and prudent course, to avoid a war, and to restore harmony to a 
 great degree to the country. He had only to evacuate the Forts, listen 
 fo the proposals of the Confederate Commissioners, and if they were 
 compatible wiih the dignity and interest of hia country, to entertaia 
 them favorably, and to treat with the new nation upon terms of amity 
 and good will. Such a course would have involved no sacrifice of 
 dignity or interest upon the part of the Federal Government. TL* 
 hijstory of the times will support me in this assertion. 
 
 The Commissioners from the Confederate States arrived in Washing- 
 ton about the first of March. After waiting a few days, in order to al- 
 low the new Administration time to complete the necessary arrange- 
 ments which would occupy its time upon its first entrance to power, 
 they addressed a letter to the Hon. William H. Seward, Secretary of 
 State, setting forth the objects of their mission, and requesting an in- 
 terview with President Lincoln. Mr. Seward did not receive them offi- 
 '•ially, but promised a reply at his earliest convenience, and encouraged 
 ihem to hope that peace and good will might prevail between the two 
 nations, and that the objects of their mission would be successful. He 
 delayed his answer. Judge Campbell, of the Supreme Court of the 
 United States, consented to act as a medium of communication between 
 the Commissioners and Mr. Seward. On the 15th of March Mr. Sew- 
 ard assured Justi:ce Campbell that he felt sure that Fort Sumter wouli 
 be evacuated "within the next five days," and that "no measure 
 ohanging the existing status prejudicially to the Southern Confede- 
 rate States," was then contemplated. Thus the Commisflioners were 
 amxwed and detained, while the Federal Government was working i> 
 
The Aid-de-Camp, 17 
 
 leTitly, bat rapidly. The five days passed away, but the Fort was net 
 evacuated. Throughout the North extensive military and naval prepa- 
 rations were begun and carried on with great energy. They attracts d 
 the attention and excited the alarm of the Commissioners. Jufctice 
 Campbell mentioned this alarm to Mr. Seward, and received from hha 
 the following answer: "Faith as to Sumter fully keptj icait and see." 
 .This was the 7th of April. On the same day, a large fleet, with troo{.fl 
 and military supplies, sailed from New York for the South. On the 
 8th of April, Governor Pickens, of South Carolina, was informed that 
 Fort Sumter would be reinforced and provisioned at all hazards. This 
 information, together with the answer of the Federal S-Jcretary of State, 
 dated nearly- a month back, declining to receive or treat with them, wae 
 conveyed to the Commissioners after the message had been sent to the 
 (Governor of South Carolina. The perfidy of the Federal Governmer.t 
 was fully evident, even, to the dullest comprehension, and the Coraini*- 
 sioners immediately took their departure from Washington. 
 
 Having anticipated events somewhat, I must now go back for a brief 
 period. Mr. Marshall had watched the course of events with an anxiona 
 eye. He feared that war was inevitable. He distrusted the protesta- 
 tions of Lincoln and his Cabinet. 
 
 The extraordinary military preparations at the North alarmed hiia 
 seriously. He saw at once that they were destined for the relief of 
 Fort Sumter. They could not be meant for anything else, for there 
 was no occasion for them elsewhere. Early in April he found it necta- 
 ?ary for him to visit Charleston, whither business of importance called 
 him. After parting with his friends, and premising a speedy return, 
 he set out on his journey. He had been furnished by prominent citi- 
 zens of Maryland with letters to Governor Pickens and General Beau- 
 regard, and other distinguished persons in South Carolina. He reach- 
 ed Washington on the morning of the 6tli of April. 
 
 Among his friends there, was an old gentleman, who had long enjoy- 
 ed the confidence of those high in authority, and nearly every Presi- 
 dent, irrespective of party, sought his advice and confidence. He w.ia 
 known to be a strong 'friend to the South, and had passed unnoticed by 
 President Lincoln. For that individual, Mr. Wheeler, for such wa« 
 the old gentleman's name, entertained the most thorough contempt. 
 
 Marshall never passed through Washington without stopping to eee 
 Mr. Wheeler. This time he hurried to visit him, intending to go over 
 to Alexandria in the afternoon, and take the evening train for Rich- 
 mond. He found Mr. Wheeler at home, and when he told him of his 
 intended visit to Charleston, the old gentleman's countenance were a 
 look of interest. 
 2 
 
18 The Aid-de-Oamp. 
 
 " Can I trust you with a secret that ruay involve the destiny of a na- 
 tion?" he asked earnestly. 
 
 Marshall was surprised, but replied quietly : 
 ; ''You can, sir." 
 
 "I have lived in Washington for a long time," said the old man ear 
 t3stly, " and I have seen the Government conducted by all sorts of men, 
 I have seen much to make me feel disgusted with, and ashamed of my 
 country, but I have never seen or heard of such villainy as the present 
 Administration is carrying on. All the plans of Lincoln and his Cabi- 
 E3t are known to me." 
 
 "I was under the impression that you had nothing to do with the 
 Administration, sir,'' said Marshall, in great surprise. 
 • ''You are right," replied Mr. Wheeler gravely — "But in spite of 
 this all their plans are known to me, I will tell you by what ^ means. 
 Remember, you are not to breathe this to a living soul. When Martin 
 Van Buren was President, unprincipled and treacherous, though he 
 was, he repeatedly sought my advice, I knew all his plans and State 
 secrets, and my advice repeatedly save the country from trouble which 
 his rasliness was about to cause it. He had a secret passage made, 
 leading to the chamber in which the meetings of the Cabinet are held, 
 and communicated the secret to no one but myself and a third party, 
 vho has since died. No one cho kno'.vs of the existence of this pas^ 
 eige. I was frequently placed in it by Van Buren to overhear the dis- 
 cussions of his Cabinet, in order that I might be the better enabled to 
 advise him. Buchanan did not know of the existence of the passage, 
 and Lincoln does not, I am sure. He has not brains enough to discover 
 it, and no one could teir him of it. Since the entrance of the new 
 Administration upon its duties, I have distrusted it. I have used the 
 eecret passage, and have overheard the discussions of the Cabinet. 
 They mean war upon the South." 
 
 "I was sure of it," exclaimed Marshall quickly. Then he added, 
 earnestly, "But, my dear sir, you have sarely informed the Confederate 
 Government of what you have discovered." 
 
 "Alas! no! that is my misfortune,''' replied hia friend. "When I 
 V7as made acquainted with the passage by Van Buren, I swore a solemn 
 oith never to reveal any thing that I discovered by means of it, at any 
 time. My oath is still binding, and I cannot warn ajy-frie«d3.'""rkm)"^**" 
 of no man in this city whom I could trust. I have lull conlidence in 
 you, and what I want you to do U to go with me tonight and take your 
 elation in the secret passage. To-night there will be a meeting of the 
 Cabinet, in which a matter of great importance will be discussed. I 
 cannot tell you what it is. You must (iiccover it for yourself, and thso 
 
The Aid-dc-Camp. 19- 
 
 hasten to Montgomery and lay the whole matter before President Da- 
 vis. The Cabinet wU meet at nine o'clock to-night. Will you go with 
 me?" 
 
 Marshall paused for a moment in deep thought. He was amazed by 
 what Mr. Wheeler had told him. lie hardly knew whether to go or 
 not. But the thought of the good he might be able to do for the South, 
 determined him, and he answered firmly: 
 " T will go with ycu." 
 
 "Very good," said Mr. Wheeler, with satisfaction. "Be here to- 
 night at seven o'clock. We will start a little before eight, in order that 
 we may be in time. You are a lawyer, and have seen much of human 
 nature; but I will show you to-night something that will startle you." 
 Mr. Wheeler ^poke with savage bittorncsB, and then abruptly changed 
 the conversation. In a short time Marshall took his leave. 
 
 During the remainder of the day h6 wandered listlessly about th© 
 city, thinking of what Mr. Wheeler had told him. It was so strange 
 that he could hardly believe it. For a moment he feared that it was 
 some plot to entrap him. But this could not be so; for why should 
 Mr. Wheeler wish to do him any harm ? That gentleman had always 
 been noted for his devotion to the South, as well as his unwavering in- 
 tegrity. Strange as the story appeared, it must be true. Besides 
 gratifying his curiosity, Marshall would learn much that would be of 
 importance to the South, and he would dare anything to gain this in- 
 formation. 
 
 Taking the precaution to arm himself, he returned to Mr. Wheeler'a 
 precisely at seven o'clock that night. lie found his friend waiting for 
 him. The old gentleman insisted upon his taking supper with him. 
 
 "You will have enough to excite you in what you will see and hear 
 to-night, and I want you to have your head clear and cool, and yout 
 mind at rest to begin with. A full stomach and a clear head are insep- 
 arable companions." 
 
 About eight o'clock they left Mr. Wheeler's residence, and proceed- 
 ed leisurely in the direction of the y\^hile House. Upon arriving at 
 the extension of the Treasury building, they left the Avenue, and en- 
 tered the President's grounds, and in a few minutes they were standing 
 in the rear of the White House. Glancing hastily around to assure 
 himself that no one was near, Mr. Wheeler approached the house, 
 and drawing from his pocket a piece of steel, pressed it against the 
 wall. Instantly a small concealed door swung around upon a pivot, and 
 the two men disappeared through it, when it was immediately closed 
 As the door closed behind them, Marshall found himself in a narrow 
 passtige and in total darkness. His friend grasped his hand and badtr 
 
20 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 him remove his shoes, be silent and follow him. They passed on swift- 
 ly in the darkness, the young man being led by his friend, sometimes 
 turning abruptly and at others ascending long flights of stairs. The 
 atraosjihere of the passage was close and confined, and quite cold. Sud- 
 flenly his friend paused. The air was warmer, and Marshall felt that 
 one of the walls that closed the passage was quite hot. Mr. AYhceler 
 placed his mouth to the young man's ear, and whispered : 
 
 " We are now standing in a small chamber constructed in the chim- 
 ney of the room in which the Cabinet holds its meetings, We can 
 hear the slightest sound that comes from there. I will listen, but I 
 want you to see as well as hear. Remember ! whatever you see or hear, 
 you must be silent. Now, look !"' So saying he removed the covering 
 from a small opening in the wall through which a brilliant gleam of 
 light came, and moving aside placed the young man at it. 
 
 Marshall placed his eye to the aperture, and gazed into the Cabinet 
 council room. He perceived that he was standing some distance above 
 the floor of the room, ajid could look down upon all that passed within it. 
 
 The room was of medium size, and simply but elegantly furnished. 
 In the centre was a large table covered with papera. Seven or eight 
 large arm chairs and a sofa completed the furniture. 
 
 Seated in one of these chairs, with his feet thrown carelessly upon 
 the table, with a cigar thrust between his lips, was a tall, dark-comples- 
 ioned man, with heavy black whiskers. He was dressed in a plain suit 
 cf black, which but imperfectly hid the natural ungainliness of his form. 
 His whole appearance was expressive of great awkwardness, and there 
 was about him an air of restraint, which impressed the gazer painfully. 
 There was a dejected and careworn look upon his countenance, and an 
 eager, uneasy gleam in his dark eyes. He was Abraham Lincoln, 
 President of the United States. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln was busily engaged in reading a manuscript, which 
 seemed to interest him very much. He was sitting with his face to the 
 fre, and Marshall had an excellent opportunity to study his oounte- 
 nance. He could hardly believe that the awkward and ungainly man 
 before him, whose appearance was at once iiuggestive of fraud and ig- 
 norance, could indeed be the Ruler cf the American Republic. He 
 searched his features closely, but nowhere could he discover the evi- 
 dences of the genius, intellect or wisdom necessary to enable him to 
 conduct the Ship of State safely through the dark waves which were 
 swelling and surging around her. The more he looked at the man be- 
 fore him the more he became satisfied that he had been chosen only 
 that he might be a weak tool in the hands of the wicked rulers of hi^ 
 party. Marshall became interested in his contemplation of Li.i:coln; 
 
The Aid-de-Oamp. 2^ 
 
 and tiu-.e passed rapidlj' away. Suddenly the President laid down the 
 papers with a sigh of relief, and glanced at his watch. "Five minutes t . 
 nine," he exclaimed, "I did not know it was so late." Then gazing at 
 the pile of papers on the table, he muttered : " Here's a pretty night's 
 work, d — n the luck; I wish I had never been elected; hut I must 
 stick to it. Seward says we must run the machiiie as we found her, if 
 we bust her; and I'll do it." 
 
 Mr. Lincoln's manner was so strikingly ludicrous that jMarahall could 
 scarcely restrain his laughter. 
 
 The President then threw himself back in his chair, and smoked in 
 silence. In a few minutes the door opened, and three men enter- 
 ed. Mr. Lincoln rose and greeted them with an awkward familiarity, 
 and requested them to be seated. They were Gideon Wolle ?, Secretary 
 of the Navy; Montgomery Blair-, Postmaster General, and Salmon P. 
 Chase, Secretary of the Treasury. 
 
 Welles would have been passed by at any time with a mere glance, 
 for there was nothing striking or remarkable in his appearance. 
 
 Chase was a fair specimen of a keen, shrewd Yankee sharper. The 
 quick, piercing eye, the restless and unca?y air, the mocking and sinis- 
 ter mouth, all told of trickery and deceit. 
 
 JBlair was dark and gloomy. A bitter and malignant expression con- 
 stantly hovered upon his countenance. His keen, observant eye was 
 upon every thing around hiin, and not a look, not an expression escaped 
 his notice. Ilig manner towards the President was a strange mixture 
 of fawning servility and contemptuous hate. 
 
 The three gentlemen had scarcely taken their seats when the door 
 again opened, and Mr. Caleb B. Smith, Secretary of the Interior, en- 
 tered. He saluted those present with great dignity, and took the seat 
 to which the President pointed. 
 
 The door was again opened, and a tall, fine looking man, with a florid 
 face and hair slightly tinged with gray, entered. There was something 
 decidedly striking in this man's appearance. There was an air of de- 
 fiant boldness and accomplished knavery which at once convinced the 
 gazer that the man was a great villain. There v.-as about him a stern- 
 ness and haughtiness which agreed well with his manly and dignified 
 figure. He was Simon Cameron, Secretary of War. He was greeted 
 with marked respect by all present, and returned their salutations most 
 courteously. 
 
 *' All here, gentlemen?" he asked, glancing around the group. "Xu! 
 where is Governor Seward?" 
 
 "Drunk, I guess," said the President, with a laugh, in which ,. ail 
 joined. "That reminds me of a joke," he continued. Suddenly he 
 
22 The Aid-de-Oamp. 
 
 paused. The door was again opened, and this time there entered 
 a man who, having been once Been, is not easily forgotten. He was r* 
 small, thin man, with a slight stoop in the shoulders. His hair was 
 gray, and lay in graceful confusion around his brow. He was dressed 
 in a neat and tasteful suit of gray. Every motion was graceful and 
 dignified, and his whole manner was expressive of quiet consciousness 
 of power. But what most interested the gazer was the calm, cold face, 
 in which not a particle of color was visible; the keen, gray eye, which 
 seemed to be reading one's very soul, and the firm, grave mouth, with 
 its expression of energy and power. There was something fascinating 
 in his appearance, but it was the fascination of the serpent, that 
 made the gazer shudder as he looked upon him. One felt that he wa? 
 a man utterly destitute of principle and integrity, that ambition wa.^* 
 his God, and that he feared nothing, scrupled at nothing, in his effort.' 
 to gratify his absorbing pasaion. He was William H. Seward, Secre- 
 tary of State. 
 
 "When he entered the council chamber the laughter was hushed, and 
 ihe Cabinet rose and received him with profound respect. The Presi- 
 dent glanced at him uneasily, fearing that he had heard his remark, 
 and greeted him with awkward defference. Chase turned away to hidt- 
 the broad grin which overspread his features; Cameron bit his Up to 
 conceal the ironical smile that hovered- around his mouth; and Blair 
 looked on with an expression of withering contempt. Mr. Seward re- 
 turned the greeting of the President and Cabinet with quiet dignity, 
 and passing on to the table, began to look over the papers upon it. 
 
 "Pardon me. Your ExcpUency," he said, turning to the President, 
 and speaking in a tone of seeming defference, but which an attentive 
 listener might have interpreted as a command, "wc are wasting time. 
 There is umch to be done to-night, and wc had better proceed at once 
 to business." 
 
 The President seated himself at the head of the table, and the mem- 
 bers of the Cabinet took their places around it; Mr. Seward being on 
 the right and Mr. Cameron on the left of the President. 
 
 All eyes were turned to the Secretary of State, and it wa.=! easy to see 
 that he was the master spirit of the Cabinet, the true Ruler of the 
 Union. 
 
 "Gentlemen," he began, in a calm, clear voice, "we have met to- 
 night to finish the Fort Sunitar business. I am informed by the Sec- 
 letarics of War and the Navy that the Expedition, which has been pre- 
 paring, for so long, in the North, is at last ready, and will sail from 
 New York in the morning, unless the President shall order otherwise 
 The chief purpose for which we arc asisemblcd to-night is. to advise 
 
The Aid-de-Oamp. 23 
 
 His Excellency, either to allow the Expedition to sail, or to counter- 
 mand the order. Our decision is to be final. As for myself, I shall 
 urge him to allow the fleet to sail." 
 
 Mr. Welles had listened attentively. 
 
 "The position of the Government is very peculiar," he remarked, 
 "If we evacuate Fort Sumter we will create a terrible storm of indig- 
 nant opposition at home, which will overwhelm us. If we can, by any 
 means, induce the Confederates to attack the Fort, the Government 
 will be safe. "We can throw all the odium upon them, and we can po 
 manage the excitement and indignation of the North as to bring on ^ 
 war, which will result in the utter extermination of slavery." 
 
 "If the Expedition sails to-morrow, when will it reach Charleston jf' 
 asked Mr. Blair, addressing the Secretary of the Navy. 
 
 " On the eleventh of this month," was the reply. 
 
 "Now I understand you," resumed Mr. Blair, after a pause. "Your 
 plan is to — " 
 
 " Allow me to state it for you," said Mr. Seward, courteously. Mr. 
 Blair bowed and the Secretary of State continued : 
 
 "A strong Military and Naval Expedition will sail to-morrow morn- 
 ing, and will reach Charleston on the eleventh of this month. A mes- 
 senger has already been dispatched to Governor Pickens, to inform hira 
 that Fort Sumter will be provisioned at all hazards. He will receive 
 this message on the eighth, the day after to-morrow. It is certain that 
 the Southerners will attack Fort Sumter. That work cannot b3 held. 
 A few days' bombardment will reduce it. The sailing of our fleet wiil 
 give the appearance that we mean to save the garrison, when in realitjr 
 we do not, as I shall soon show you. The fall of the Fort will arouee 
 the Northern and "Western States, and we will be able to mould therrk 
 as we will. It is necessary to sacrifice the garrison of Fort Sumter for 
 the effect that it will have upon the Free States. As soon as we hear 
 of the fall of the Fort, the President will issue his proclamation, de- 
 nouncing the Southerners as reheh, and commanding them to lay 
 down their arms, and disperse within a given time. He will at the 
 same time call for troops to put down the Rebellion. Of course the 
 Southerners will resist, and then we shall have the war in earnest." 
 
 "War is a terrible thing," said Mr. Chase, musingly, "and itia a 
 pity to embroil this country in it." 
 
 "Then we must go out of power, sir," said Mr. Seward, sharply. 
 "We must either force the South into a war, or we must comply wit.h 
 their demands. We can drag the people into a war, and give them no 
 time to think of anything else; but if we yield to the South, the people 
 will drag us from power. There is a strong anti-slavery sentiment ia 
 
24 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 tha country, wliich will sustain us in a war with the South, and we can 
 work upon the Unionism of the people. There is no retreat for us, 
 g3ntlcmen," he continued emphatically. "We are pledged to carry on 
 tl;3 war against slavery, and we have tried the ballot-box long enough 
 Y7e must now use the sword." 
 
 '•Anderson don't like the idea of relieving Fort Sumter," said the 
 JVesident, raising his head from his hand on which he had been resting 
 it. "He says it's a breach of the faith we have pledged to the South." 
 
 *■ Anderson is a fool," said Seward, contemptuously. "He is too 
 punctilious. But the chances aie decidedly against his ever getting 
 out of his Fort. Tlie more martyrs that there are, the more successful 
 will be the cause. To endear Anderson's memory to our people, we'll 
 iDike a saint of him, by allowing Beauregard to cannonize him." 
 
 r 
 
 " I see but one difficulty about this war," said Mr. Lincoln, musingly. 
 "It may drive out the Border States, and then we shall have our ham: 
 full." 
 
 "We are prepared for that," said the Secretary of War. " We wish 
 to force the Border States out of the Union. We have not calculated 
 upon any trifling struggle. We anticipate a long and bloody war; on^ 
 that will probably last during our entire Administration. But we must 
 deceive the people by prophesying a short war. We will say that we 
 will be able to crush the rebellion in ninety days. We can speedily or 
 g.%nize an army. The nine Governors who have just gone from W. 
 city, have promised us as many troops as we need. To keep up the de- 
 ception, we will call for seventy-five thousand men to serve for three 
 m 3nths. After this we will be in a position to call for troops for year,^ 
 instead of months, and we shall get as many as we call for. The war 
 will be long and bloody, but it will be advantageous to us as individuab, 
 and in the end we will conquer the South. We have greater resources, 
 more men and material, and we shall finally hold the Southern States 
 9Xi conqiiered Provinces." 
 
 "I care not for the Border States," said Mr. Seward coldly. "I am 
 ready for either the Cotton or the Border States." 
 
 "That reminds me of a joke, Seward," said the President, throwing 
 himself back in the chair. "When I was cap'n of a flat boat, I used 
 to hear tell of a man that lived down on the Chesapeake Bay, during 
 tha war of 1812. He used to sleep with his rifle at the head of his 
 bid, so as to be ready for the British when they landed. One night 
 there was a terrible thunder storm, and his wife woke him, crying, 
 'V/ake up, husband! the day of judgment has come, or the British 
 h'lve landed.' 'Let 'em come/ cried the old man, jumping up and 
 
The Aid-de-Oamp. 25 
 
 seizing his rifle — 'Let 'em come — I'm ready for either.' So you, Sew- 
 ard, are like the old man; you are ready for either." 
 
 The President sank back in his chair, and laughed heartily at his own 
 joke, inappropriate and stale as it was. 
 
 The members of the Cabinet joined in his morrinient. A smile of 
 sarcastic contempt played around the lips of the Secretary of State, and 
 Le exchanged a meaning glance with the Postmaster General. Then 
 they joined in the laughter. 
 
 "Gentlemen," said Mr. Seward, when the mirth had subsided, " we 
 must coaie to some conclusion upon this matter. What say you? Shall 
 we have a war with the South, or a war with our own people?" 
 
 "A war with the South," was the unanimous response. ' 
 
 "Very good," exclaimed the Premier, in a tone of satisfactien. "The 
 President will order the Expedition for the relief of Fort Sumter to 
 sail atronee. "When the war is begun," he added, turning to the Sec- 
 retary of War, "we will leave the management of the military details 
 to yourself and General Scott, who has kindly offered to continue to 
 command the armies of the Union. Now that this business is settled, 
 we have other matters to arrange." 
 
 Other business was then brought forward and discussed. The Coun- 
 cil broke up about twelve o'clock. When the rest of the Cabinet de- 
 parted, the Secretary of State remained behind. 
 
 "Mr. President," said he, fixing his cold, clear eyes upon Lincoln, 
 "you are too faint hearted. You have put your foot upon the plough, 
 and you must not turn back." 
 
 "I know that, Seward," said the President, moving uneasily under 
 the cold, satirical gaze of his master spirit. "But I am afraid we are 
 not doing the right thing." 
 
 "I tell you, Lincoln, you are a fool. Of course we are doing a d — d 
 rascally piece of business. But we can't help ourselves. So what good 
 will your grumbling do ?" 
 
 The President laughed, and drawing Seward's arm through his own, 
 said to him : 
 
 "You are getting personal. Come with me, and I'll silence you with 
 a drink. I have some prime old brandy down stairs, if the old woman 
 Laan't hid it, or Bob hasn't drank it." 
 
 At the mention of brandy, Mr. Seward's eyes brightened, and ha 
 followed the President from the room. 
 
 From his place of concealment, Mr. Marshall had heard and seen 
 everything that had transpired in the Council Chamber. He was be- 
 wildered by the cold-blooded plan of the Cabinet. He could hardly 
 believe them capable of such villainy, and yet he had heard it from 
 
26 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 their own Irps. He turned to his friend, who was standing quietly be- 
 hind him, and said hastily : 
 
 "Let us begone from here. I want to get out into the fresh air." 
 
 They retraced their steps, and in a few minutes were standing in the 
 grounds in the rear of the Mansion. They hurried into the Avenuo, 
 and after a rapid walk, during which both were silent, they reached the 
 residence of Mr. Wheeler. 
 
 "Now, are you satisfied?" asked the old gentleman, when they were 
 seated in the Library. 
 
 "I am," replied Marshall. "I shall hasten to Charleston, and ofiFe.- 
 my services to General Beauregard. After Fort Sumter is taken, 1 
 shall inform the Confederate Government of what I have heard." 
 
 Marshall passed the remainder of the night with his friend. The 
 next morning he went over to Alexaadria, and took the train for the 
 South. 
 
 This was Sunday, the 7th of April. On the same day the Expedi- 
 tion for the relief of Fort Sumter passed out of New York harbcr, an 2 
 sailed Southward. 
 
CnAPTER III. 
 
 > 
 
 MARSHALL passed through Richmond without stopping. He 
 was delayed for an entire day in North Carolina, and did 
 not reach Charleston until the night of the 10th of April. 
 
 He found the city in commotion. It was agitated by the wildest 
 rumors imaginable. Troops were constantly arrivinsc from the interior 
 f3r service in the approaching engagement. Tlie determination of the 
 Federal Government had been communicated to Governor Pickens, 
 and it had become rery generally known in Charleston that an attack 
 would be made soon upon Fort Sumter. 
 
 As soon as Governor Pickens received the message of the Lincoln 
 'lovernment, he communicated the information to General Beauregard, 
 who at once telegraphed it to the Confederate Secretary of War, who 
 instructed him to demand the surrender of the Fort, and in case the 
 demand should be refused, to proceed to reduce it. 
 
 •It was expected th.it the fleet sent to the relief of Fort Sumter would 
 react the harbor Qn the 11th. In all human probability it would have 
 done so but for a storm, which delayed it some thirty^six hours. 
 
 On the 11th of April, 1861, General Beauregard demanded of Major 
 Anderson the surrender of Fort Sumter. 
 
 On the day after his arrival in Charleston, Marshall hurried through 
 with his business, and when he had finished it, called upon Governor 
 Piskeiis. 
 
 He was received with great courtesy by that gentleman. 
 
 " You visit us at an exciting time, Mr, Marshall," said the Governor- 
 "The next twenty-four hours may witness the opening of the great 
 struggle for our independence." 
 
 ^'I have expected this. Your Excellency," said the young man, "and 
 I have hastened here to offer my services to General Beauregard." 
 
 "I thank you for your sympathy, Mr. .Marshall," said the Governor, 
 grasping his hand warmly. " General Beauregard will not refuse your 
 offer." 
 
 "Will you accompany me to General Beauregard's headquarters, 
 Governor?" asked Marshall. I have some important information to 
 lay before him, and, upon reflection, I think that you ought to hear it." 
 
 Governor Pickens seemed surprised, bat replied at once : 
 
28 The Aid-de-Oamp. 
 
 " I was about to go to headquarters when you were announced. My 
 carriage ia at the door, and I shall be glad to take you with me." 
 
 The two gentleoien then left the house, and entering the carriage 
 which was in waiting, were driven rapidly to the headquarters of the 
 Confederate commander. They were immediately ushered into General 
 Beauregard's presence. 
 
 He was sitting at a table, glancing over some paper;?, but rose as the 
 gentlemen entered. He was of medium size and well proportioned. 
 He was dressed in the plain blue uniform of a Brigadier General, and 
 was scrupulously neat in his attire. His features were prominent, and 
 indicative of his foreign descent. There was much of benevolence and 
 good humor in the expression of his countenance, and through every 
 action there breathed a quiet dignity which at once won the respect and 
 confidence of all persons. You felt at a glance that he was born a 
 soldier. It was impossible to see him without admiring him, and it was 
 equally impossible to know him without honoring and loving him. 
 Uniting that warm and genial disposition which at once endeared him . 
 to all, with that brilliant military genius which has ranked him among 
 the greatest Generals of the age, it is not strange that every Southern 
 .iuldier's heart should throb with devotion, and his eye glow with pride, 
 when he hears the magic name of Beauregard. It is to him the em- 
 bodiment of chivalry and patriotism. He greeted Governor Pickens 
 cordially, and that gentleman presented Marshall. 
 
 "Is my friend 'well ?" inquired the General, when he had read the 
 letter Marshall had brought from Baltimore. "I am glad to meet you 
 as a friend of his." 
 
 Marshall bowed, and replied, that the gentleman was well when he 
 left him. 
 
 "Are you busy. General?" asked the Governor. 
 
 "Not at present," was the answer. "I have demanded the surren- 
 der of Fort Sumter, and am now waiting for Anderson's reply. I was 
 about to send for Your Excellency when you arrived. But why do 
 you ask if I am busy ? Do you wish me to do anything for you ?" 
 
 " No," replied the Governor, " but Mr. Marshall has told me that 
 he desires to lay before you some important information, and he wishes 
 me to hear it." ^ 
 
 "Indeed," exclaimed the General, g;i".ing earnestly at the young 
 man. "Then, my dear sir, we must hear him at once. It will be eome 
 time before I receive^ Anderson's reply, and we can listen to Mr. Mar- 
 shall while waiting for it. Now, Mr. Marshall," he added, placing him- 
 self in front of that gentleman, " His Excellency and myself are ready 
 to hear you." 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 29 
 
 After informing General Beauregard of his original purpose in visit- 
 ing Charleston, Marshall related all that he had seen and heard in the 
 Cabinet Council at Washington. His auditors listened -with grave 
 attention, frequently exchanging glances of intelligence. When he 
 liad concluied his narration, Marshall turned to General Beauregard 
 and added : 
 
 " Seeing that war is inevitable, General, I desire to do^yhat I can for 
 the Sauth. I will be glad if you will assign me to some duty during 
 the anproaching bombardment." 
 
 "I will, with pleasure, make you one of my Aide.?-de-Camp for the 
 the occasion," said General Beauregard, cordially. " The information 
 that you bring is indeed important, Mr. Marshall, and I shall at once 
 lay it before my Government." Then turning to Governor Fickens, he 
 added, " So you see, Your Excellency, that my suspicions were not 
 unfounded." 
 
 " I am utterly amazed by what I have heard," said W:^ GoYcrnor, 
 ''I could not hare believed any one capable of such diabolical villainy." 
 
 The conversation was continued for some time longer. In about an 
 hour, the Aids who had been sent with the message to Major Andcr- 
 Eon, returned with his reply. j^ 
 
 " What does he say. General ?" asked the ^|prncr, eagerly. 
 
 General Beauregard tore open the package, and read aloud as followi : 
 
 " Headquarters, Fort Sumiitr, S C, \ 
 April 11th, 1861. j 
 " General : 
 
 " I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your communica- 
 tion demanding the evacuation of this fort; and tc say in reply there- 
 to, that it is a demand with which I regret that my sense of honor, 
 and of ray obligations to ray Government, proven: my ccmpliance. 
 
 "Thanking you for the fair, manly and courteous terms proposed, 
 and thi high compliment paid me, 
 
 •' I am, General, very respectfully, 
 
 Your obedient £er7s.nt, 
 {Signed,) . IIobert Ani?xr80N. 
 
 Major U. S. Army commanding." 
 
 '* "^Ulo-: Anderson desired us to szy," said Colonel Chestnut, one of 
 the aids who bore the message, " that they will await the first shot, and 
 if you do not batter them to pieces, they will be starved cat in a few 
 days." ■ ^ 
 
 General Beauregard's face flushedHpainfully, and he rose from his 
 seat and paced the roon'" nervously. 
 
30 The .Aid-de- Camp. 
 
 " It is painful, gentlemen," said he, "to be compelled to altacli a 
 brave man with such fearful odds. Anderson is a brave soldier, and h 
 is a shame that te should be sacrificed by the brutal folly of his Got- 
 ernment. But if we do not reduce this fort before the arrival of tte 
 fleet, we ij i:ot know what mischief our enemies may do us." 
 
 He theh seated himself at a tab^e and wrote rapidly. "When he 
 finished, he banded the paper to an Aid, saying : 
 
 " Have this telegraphed to Montgomery immediately, and wait foi u 
 reply." 
 
 The Aid bowed and retired, and Geueral Beauregard, turning to 
 Governor Pickens, continued : 
 
 " I have telegraphed Anderson's reply to the Secretary of "War, ard 
 have asked for further instructions. 1 appreciate Anderson's feeiicge, 
 und do not wish to cause him any harm if I can prevent it. I am Eure 
 that the Government is anxious to avoid any effusion of blood." 
 
 "I honor you for your generosity, General," said the Govc-rnci. 
 " But," he continued, while Mr. Marshall has leisure, wouiil it not be 
 well for him to make a written statement of what he has told us. We 
 can lay it before the Government, and save him tlie trouble of going 
 to Montgomery." ^ 
 
 " A very good ideafWfceed," e^iclaimcd the General, and rising frcn 
 Lis desk, he requested Marshall to take bis seat there, and write tbe 
 statinnent. While the young man was engaged in preparing the paper, 
 Governor Pickens and General Eeauregard walked to a window which 
 commanded a view of tbe harbor, and conversed in low tones. 
 
 The day wore away. A message was received from Montgomery, 
 instructing General Beauregard to make a final ofier to Major Anderson 
 to refrain from any hostile measures, if he (Major A.) would agree to 
 evacuate the Fort within a given time, and in the meanwhile would net 
 open his fire upon the Confederate forces. The message was sent to 
 Major Anderson. It was night when his reply was received. He 
 stated that he would evacuate Fort Sumter by noon of the l'"ih ins*. , 
 if, before that time, he did not receive from his Government coiVLruiling 
 instructions or additional supplies. 
 
 " It is clear that he relies upon the arrival'of the fleet," raid General 
 Hcauregard. " We have no alternative but to attack him.'' 
 
 At twenty minutes past three o'clock, on the morning of the Vlxt cf 
 April, Major Anderson was notifiqd that the Confederate forces would 
 open their fire upon Fort Sumter in one hour from that time. ^ 
 
 During the evening Marshall was made acquainted witli the otbei" 
 members of Geperul Beaurcgard% staff, and several officer.? of di^itini:-- 
 tlon. A little after four o'clock, ©n the morning of April 12th; 18?1, 
 
The. Aid-de-Camp. 31 
 
 (Jcr-tral Beauregard and Lis staff ascended the upper room of his licaj- 
 quarters, from which an excellent view of the harbor could be obtained. 
 Marshall folded his arms, and standing by a window, gazed out upon 
 the darkness which enshrouded everything. He had not long to wait. 
 
 At twenty minutes after four o'clock two brilliant flashes were seen 
 in the direction of James's Island, and two heavy reports in quick suc- 
 cession, from Tort Johnston, came booming over the water. Five 
 minules elapsed, and then the gloom in the direction of Fort Moultrie 
 ■vTas broken by the fierce flashes which leaped from its ramparts, and 
 the silence was riven by the deep thunder of its heavy guns. Then 
 the batteries at Cummings' Point, and the Floating Battery opened 
 Sre, and the hostile fortress seemed enveloped in a circle of flume. 
 
 "The war has begun, gentlemen," said General Beauregard, grimly. 
 
 They remained at the windows, watching the bombardment with the 
 most intense interest. It was a grand scene. Through the deep twi- 
 light of the morning could be dimly discerned the dark outline of Fort 
 Sumter, while from every quarter around it, the Heavens were lit up 
 by the lurid flashes of the Southern guns, and the deafening peals of 
 artillery echoed and resounded heavily over the still waters of the Bay. 
 From Cuuimings' Point and Fort Johnston, huge shells leapt in u sheet 
 of flame from the heavy mortars, and passing rapidly through the air 
 v.ith a graceful curve, exploded over the ramparts of Fort Sumter. 
 
 Marshall watched the scene with a thrilling interest. It fully equal- 
 led all that he had ever read or dreamed of the fiery splendors of s, 
 bombardment. 
 
 The fire of the Southern batteries was maintained with spirit, but 
 Sumter was silent. Marshall was surprised by this, and turning to 
 General Beauregard, asked earnestly : 
 
 " Does Anderson mean submission by his silence ?" 
 
 General Beauregard smiled, and answered quietly : 
 
 " No 1 Anderson is too brave a man to surrender before he is forced 
 to do so. He is reserving his fire until he can see our batteries more 
 distinctly. He has few resources to waste." 
 
 As he spoke the sky grew brighter, and Fort Sumter could be seen 
 more distinctly. General Beauregard gazed at it for a moment, and 
 then silently pointed towards it. Marshall gazed in the direction indi- 
 cated by his commander. From the tall flagstaff of the Fort " the 
 stars and stripes" floating defiantly in the morning breeze, told that the 
 Confederate chieftain judged rightly. Anderson was silent, but not 
 conquered 
 
 An hour elapsed, but Major Anderson was still silent. Suddenly 
 two bright sheets of flarae darted from the dark embrasures of Fort 
 
32 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 Sumter, and the deep thunder of two heavy guns replied to the roar of 
 the attacking batteries. The fire of the Southern guns grew hotter, 
 but the Fort relapsed into its former silence. At every discharge the 
 Southern guns grew more perfect, and scon every battery had the esact 
 range of the Fort, and shot and shell fell rapidly from all quarters upoa 
 the doomed fortress. 
 
 The day opened glcomily. The sky was over-cast with htavy clouds 
 and threatened rain. The wind -howled mournfully over the 'wide 
 expanse of the Bay, and the dense wreaths of smoke hung like a pall 
 over the scene of confiict. About half-past seven o'clock General 
 Beauregard was watching Sumter through his glass, fc'uddenly he 
 turned to his Aids, and exclaimed quickly : 
 
 " Now, gentlemen, we shall have it. Anderson is working his parapet 
 guns." 
 
 Scarcely had he spoken, when the dark sides of the Fort were 
 wreathed in smoke, and a rapid fire was opened upon Cummings' Point 
 and Fort Moultrie. Anderson fired rapidly, and he iiad obtained the 
 range, with great precision. But his balls glanced harmlessly from the 
 Iron Battery, which was the chief object of his fire, and went splash- 
 ing and crashing into the marsh beyond it. 
 
 A dill], drizzling rain was now falling, and heavy, leaden clouds over- 
 spread the sky. Major Anderson continued to work his barbette guns, 
 until the constant explosion of shells around him warned him of the 
 danger of exposing his men out of their casemates, and he then with, 
 drew his gunners from the ramparts. 
 
 A little after eight o'clock a message was received at headquarters 
 that a large steamer was seen in the offing. General Dcauregard 
 glanced meaningly at Mar5,hall, but said nothing. Later in the day it 
 was reported that two other vessels were in sight. 
 
 General Beauregard approached Marshall, and handing him his 
 glass, said : 
 
 " Take a boat and go over to Cummings' Poiut, and see what you 
 can make them out to be, and report to mc as soon as possible." 
 
 Marshall hastened to the wharf where he procured a boat, and was 
 soon on his way to Cummings' Point. He had to pass directly through 
 the line of fire, and shot and shell flew harmlessly on all sides of him. 
 Upon reaching Morris' Island he procured a horse, and soon arrived at 
 the long range of sand and hills which extend along the beach. A-i- 
 justing his glass he placed it to his eyes, and gazed anxiously seaward. 
 Lying in the distance, apparently about four miles from the shore, he 
 paw plainly the dark hulls of four large steamers — two cf them evi- 
 dently men-of-war. He fielt sure that these vessels constituted the 
 
The Aid-de-Camp, SS 
 
 3,.3vancG of the expedition for the relief of Fort Sumter. They made 
 no atteuipt to come in, however, but lay quietly in the offiug, watching 
 the tight. Marshall made his observationa and hastened back to head- 
 '■juartcrs, and made his report. 
 
 ''Do you think they will come in ?" asked the General. 
 '' They are lying in the offing very (quietly now, sir," said Marshall, 
 • and do not seem disposed to change their position, ricmember," he 
 added in a low tone, " the plan is only to make a show of assistance 
 for Anderson." • 
 
 " True," said General Beauregard, musingly. " But they may wait 
 until the rest come up, and try to enter the harbor to-night. We must 
 guard against this.'' 
 
 The day were on. The Confederates continued steadily to pour in 
 their fire upon Sumter, and the Fort to respond. During the day, fre- 
 quent showers of rain fell, but caused no relaxation on the part of either 
 of the combatants. The Iron Battery was severely injured early in the 
 day, and on^ of its guns was compell«d to remain silent during the 
 remainder of the engagement. Sumter was severely injured by the 
 fatal hail which was showered upon her. 
 
 At a few minutes before seven o'clock the fire of the Fort ceased, 
 •and soon afterwards the Southern guns grew silent also. 
 
 As the firing ceased. General Beauregard approached Marshall, in 
 ■ompany with an officer whom he introduced t.s Lieutenant Dozier. 
 
 " I have ord*;red Lieutenant Dozier," said the General, " to go with 
 Colonel Yates. They will station themselves, with several schooners, 
 near Fort Sumter, and will keep bright fires of pine knots burning all 
 night, to enable us to see any vesseia or boats that may attempt to enter 
 the harbor. I wish you to go with them. You wiU have a rough 
 night, I am afraid, but you will be relieved at daybreak. You will 
 inform me at ouce of anything unusual that may occur, and will report 
 to me when you come ashore in the morning." 
 
 Marshall followed Lieutenant Dozier to the wharf, where he found 
 quite a number of schooners and small sloops collected. They went on 
 board one of them, and the littie fleet put off. Marshall was intro- 
 duced to Colonel Yates and the ether officers charged with the duty of 
 sighting the harbor, and was soon Eiade to feel himself quite at home. 
 " We are going upon a dangerous duty, Mr. Marshall," said Colonel 
 Yates. " We are ordered to station -ourselves close to Fort Sumter, and 
 Anderfton may at any moment blow us out of the water with one of 
 his heavy guns." 
 
 " We must take the chances, sir," said Marshall, coolly. 
 
 The little fleet had scarcely put out from the shore before the storm, 
 
34 The Aid-de-Camiy. 
 
 -which had been gathering all day, burst forth in all its fury. The 
 winds shrieked wrathfully over the dark waters of the bay, and the 
 rain fell in torrents from the inky heavens. The waves dashed wildly 
 against the sides of the frail vessels, and tossed them fearfully about. 
 Yet they held their course bravely, and soon reached the position to 
 ■which they had been ordered. The fires were kindled on their decks, 
 and soon the bright flames of the rich pine-wood were sending their 
 ruddy glare far through the darkness and the storm. 
 
 Anxious eyes were turned upon Sumter, whose dark outline was 
 revealed by the red light of the flames. The vessels lay at the mercy 
 of the Federal commander. At any time he might sink them with his 
 heavy guns. Fortunately he did not take advantage of his oppor- 
 tunity, and the Fort remained silent. 
 
 Sheltered from the fierce storm in the cabin of the schooner, Mar- 
 shall entered into conversation with the officers with whom he had been 
 thrown. He was delighted with them. All were true and chivalrous 
 Southern men. Each one expressed keen regret at being compelled to 
 attack the gallant commander and garrison of Fort Sumter. The 
 events of the day were discussed, each person having something new 
 and interesting to relate. 
 
 " Did you hear any estimate of our loss before you left headquarters V 
 asked Colonel Yates, addressing Marshall. 
 
 "At the last accounts, we had not lost a man," was the reply. 
 
 A murmur of surprise ran around the group. 
 
 " It is almost incredible," said Colonel Yates. '•' Anderson's men 
 are splendid artillerists. I remember an incident that occurred a few 
 weeks ago. Our gunners at the Point Battery had act up a hogshead 
 in the bay for a target, and were firing at it. They fired about twenty 
 shots without hitting it. Suddenly a gun was run out and fired from 
 one of the casemates of Fort Sumter, and in a moment more the pieces 
 of the hogshead were floating about the bay. Anderson had hit it at 
 the first fire. If we have escaped unhurt, we owe it to the special 
 interposition of Providence." 
 
 "You are right, sir," said Marshall. "I would like to know if 
 Anderson has suffered any less." 
 
 "I am afraid he has," said Colonel Yates. " Almost every one of 
 our shots took eff"ect. If he has sustained no loss, his escape will be 
 even more miraculous than our own. Of one thing I am sure. If the 
 2f ankee vessels attempt to enter the harbor to-night, we shall have bloody 
 work." 
 
 " I do not believe that they will attemptUo enter the harbor to-night," 
 said Marshall. "They are too well aware of the consequences to 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 9r> 
 
 venture upon such a desperate undertaking. Besides this, the stora 
 -vill be an excellent excuse for their remaining outside of the bay." 
 
 The conversation was continued until late at night. No signs of the 
 Federal fleet could be seen ; and -sreary with the excitement and fatigue 
 of the previous twenty-four hours, Marshall threw himself down upoa 
 a bench in the cabin, and soon fell asleep. The storm continued until 
 nearly morning, when it died away. 
 
 During the night the mortar batteries continued to fire shells at 
 regular intervals; and the troops spent the night in repairing and 
 strengthening their works. 
 
 3Iarshall was awakened about daybreak by Lieutenant Dozier, who 
 informed him that it was light, and that the vessels were returning to 
 the city. He sprang up hurriedly and went on deck. The storm had 
 died away, and there was every indication of a clear sunrise. As the 
 vessels reached the wharf, Marshall bade a hurried adieu to his friende 
 of the night before, and hastened to General Beauregard's headquarter. 
 As he stepped ashore the sua rose rt^ajestically out of the ocean, and 
 his brilliant rays scattered the clouds over the heavens. 
 
 From the Southern batteries the effect of the previous day's bom- 
 bardment upon Sumter were distinctly visible. Thi parapet walls 
 had been battered away, several breaches had bee« made in the sidea 
 of the fort, and the embrasures were greatly torn and injured, and the 
 roofs of the houses were in ruins. As the iroops noticed these efecte 
 of their work, loud and enthusiastic cheers rang along the shore, and 
 the guns again commenced their fearfWi thunder. 
 
 Marshall reached General Beaujpegard's headquarters, and made his 
 report. 
 
 '' I have just learned that several other vessels have appeared off 
 the harbor," said the General to him ; " but they do not seem at all dis- 
 posed to come in. I believe now that you were right yesterday. This 
 Sect is only for a show of relief. A brave man is to be sacrificed in 
 crder to enable the villains who control him to stir up a war." Aa 
 expression of pain passed over his ncble features, and he murmured to 
 himself: " Poor Anderson — poor fellow." 
 
 At seven o'clock Sumter re-opened its fire, this time directing a 
 heavy cannonade upon Fort Moultrie, which returned shot for shot. A 
 little before eight o'clock. General Beauregard directed Marshall to 
 ^ake a boat and go down the bay to the Floating Battery. " I have 
 : ecn informed," he continued, " that it was struck several times during 
 the engagement of yesterday, and I am anxious to know whether it is 
 damaged, and to what extent. Obtain from Captain Hamilton a state. 
 znent of its condition; and report to me as soon as possible." 
 
96 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 ■ Karehall hastened to the wharf, where he procured a boat. He 
 Heated himself in the bow, and the boat shot out from the shore. After 
 getting fairly out into the bay, the rowers made slow progress. There 
 waB a heavy ground swell still agitating the water, and the little 
 boat went slowly over the waves. Her situation was perilous in the 
 extreme. She was between the fire of friends and foes, and any 
 cJiance shot might strike her. During her passage stirring events- 
 transpired. 
 
 At eight o'clock Fort Moultrie began to fire hot shot, to set fire ta 
 Fort Sumter. At ten minutes after eight a thick, heavy column of 
 black smoke rose slowly from the walls of the hostile fortreas, and soon 
 "tlie bright, red flames were seen leaping above the ramparts. Fort 
 fiumter was on fire. Loud and thrilling cheers I'ang along the shorem- 
 an d the bombardment now grew hotter and fiercer than ever. The 
 wind was blowing from the west, and driving the smoke across the Fort 
 icto the casemates where the gunners were at work, and issuing in 
 denhe volumes from the port-holes. Major Anderson now rained -a 
 fearful Lre upon Fort Moultrie; and the combat between the two fort^ 
 .waa terrific. 
 
 - During all tKig time the little boat had passed safely through the' 
 line of fire, and re&r»hed the Floating Battery. Marshall sprang lightly 
 on. board of it. Capti*m Hamilton met him, and he delitered CheneraJ 
 Boauregard's message and received the Captain's reply. 
 
 "Look ! Mr. Marshall," cried Captain Hamilton, pointing to Fort 
 ^Timter, from which large columns of smoke were rising. "Anderson 
 %B behaving splendidly. That smoke must be terrible upon his men, 
 but he fights like a hero yet." 
 
 The gunners at the Floating Battery .watched with great interest the- 
 
 'bercic efforts of Anderson and bis men.; and as that officer, under 
 
 tliese trying circumstances, continued to pour in his fire, one of the 
 
 Ken sprang upon a gun, and waving his hat, cried enthusiastically : 
 
 ''Three cheers for Major Anderson !" They were given with a will. 
 
 " You see that we can admire bravery even in an enemy," said' 
 Captain Hamilton, with a proud smile. 
 
 " I am proud to be a witness to such generosity. Captain," said Mar- 
 shall, grasping his hand. " Your guns have done good work. I must' 
 ' return to headquarters. Farewell, sir." 
 
 So saying he returned to his boat, and put back to Charleston. 
 
 In a few minutes after he left the Foating Battery, he glanced at 
 
 Uie fort. The flames seemed to be abating. He turned to look at Fort 
 
 M^oultrie, when he was startled by a tremendous explosion in the direc- 
 
 iion of Sumter. He turned and saw a dense cloud of white smoky 
 
The Aid-dc-Camp. 37 
 
 rising above the ramparts of the fort. A portion of the ammunitic* 
 had exploded in Fort Sumter, and the flames now sprang up Tr'.tK 
 increased fury. When Marshall reached the shore it seemed that the 
 ■whole fort was on fire, and he shuddered at the thought that the br^ve 
 garrison might perish in the flames. He at once repaired to hea(i- 
 •quarters and reported the condition of the battery. 
 
 The flames continued to rage fearfully within the walls of I'ort 
 Sumter, and soon the guns were silent. Major Anderson and hia ractt 
 were suflFering terribl/. The smoke was densely packed in the caee- 
 mates of the fort, and it was impossible for them to work the guna. 
 Several times they were compelled to lie flat upon their faces in orcJet 
 to escape suffocation. But still the brave garrison held out. At a 
 quarter to one o'clock the United States flag was shot away. General 
 Beauregard now sent Colonels Lee, Pryor, and Miles, in a boat, witb 
 offers of assistance, if the garrison should be unable to escape the 
 flames. At the same time a small boat containing Colonel "WigfuUj 
 another Aid, put off from Cummings' Point, bearing a flag of truce. 
 
 The Federal flag soon re-appeared on the walls. Colonel Wig full 
 reached the fort, and entered through a port-hole. He assured Majot 
 Anderson that he had done his duty as a brave man, and urged him 
 to surrender, to save his men. Major Anderson finally consented, aud 
 the stars and stripes were hauled down. 
 
 In the meanwhile, seeing that the flames did not abate, Generul 
 Beauregard ordered Marshall to take a fire-engine and go on a steamor, 
 which was in readiness, to Sumter, and render any assistance which 
 the garrison might need. He did so, and reached the fort just ae the 
 surrender was made. 
 
 AVhen he entered the fort, he found Colonels Wigfall, Lee, Pryof, 
 Miles, Manning and Chestnut, of General Beauregard's staff, preetnt 
 Major Anderson was standing with his arms folded, leaning againet a 
 broken gun carriage. 
 
 His face was pale and careworn, and his head was bent in prcud 
 dejection. Near him his officers were standing in silence. 
 
 Marshall saluted the party and delivered the orders with which h« 
 had been charged. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Colonel Wigfall, turning to the group, " Mnjor 
 Anderson has consented to surrender the fort unconditionally." 
 
 Major Anderson raised his head and said, calmly: 
 
 " I have done my duty. It is useless to attempt to hold the ft ri 
 longer. I cannot, and will net, sacrifice my men. General Beaure- 
 gard will impose the conditions. We must accept what he offers." 
 
 He bowed his head in proud resignation. His hearers were deeply 
 
36 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 tQuched. Tbey admired his gallant conduct, and sympatbized witli 
 him in his misfortunes. 
 
 '' Fear not, sir," said Colonel Wigfall, kindly, " General Beauregard 
 knows how to honor a brave man. You have done your duty nobly, 
 and we admire you for it." 
 
 Major Anderson's lips quivered with grateful emotion, and he bowed 
 in silence. 
 
 The scene that presented itself within the fort, was one of great 
 interest. The flames were still unextinguished. The walls were 
 blackened by smoke and riddled by shot and shell. Large masses of 
 brick and mortar were scattered through the yard, and fragments of 
 shells lay thickly on all sides. Broken carriages and dismounted guns 
 lay along the shattered ramparts. The barracks were in ruins, and in 
 many places still burning. It seemed as if the spirits of ruin and 
 devastation had been at work in the captured fortress. 
 
 Strange to relate, not a man of the garrison had been hurt, and no 
 o^e was injured among the Confederate troops. 
 
 Other officers of General Beauregard's staff having been charged 
 with the duty of arranging the terms of the surrender, Marshall re- 
 turned to headquarters. 
 
 As Colonel Wigfall had promised, General Beauregard allowed 
 Major Anderson to surrender on the most generous terms. He per- 
 mitted him to depart with all company arms and property, and all 
 private property. He afforded hirz every facility for the removal of 
 his command, and allowed him to salute the flag that he had so gal- 
 lantly defended before lowering it. 
 
 The steamer Isabel was placed at the service of Major Anderson, 
 and General Beauregard desired Marshall to accompany the boat and 
 see the Major and his command on board cf the Federal fleet outside 
 of the harbor. 
 
 The next day, (April 14th,) at nine o'clock, Marshall reported to 
 Xajor Anderson. Arrangements with the commander of the fleet, to 
 remove the gairison, had been made earlier in the morning. 
 2 A little before nooij Major Andereon and his men marched out of 
 the fort to the tune of " Yankee Doodle," and went on board of the 
 laabel. They were all in full unifor::-, and carried tbeir arms. A 
 detachment was then sent to the fort to salute and lower the flag. 
 
 When the salute began, Major Anderson was standing on the dock of 
 the Isabel, gazing sadly at the flag wlich was flying from the ramparts. 
 >!arshall approached him and asked : '■ How many guns will be flrcd, 
 Major; twenty-one?" 
 
'The Aid-de-Camp. 39 
 
 " No,'"' replied Anderson, in a quivering voice ; " one hundred, and 
 those are scarcely enough." 
 
 The gallant soldier's breast heaved with emotion, and turning away 
 he burst into tears. 
 
 At the discharge of the seventeenth gun, a caisson exploded, killing 
 one man and wounding five others of Major Anderson's command. A 
 minister was sent for, and the unfortunate man buried on the spot 
 where he had fallen. A volley was fired over his grave, the flag was 
 lowered, and the garrison was transferred to the Isabel. The moorings 
 were cast off, and the steamer started down the bay. Marshall stood 
 on the deck watching the fort. In a few moments deafening peals of 
 artillery were heard in that direction, aecompaineJ by wild and thril- 
 ling cheers from the troops along the shore and the persons on the 
 various kinds of water-craft that lined the harbor. The flags of tho 
 Confederate States and the State of South Carolina ascended together 
 and waved proudly in the air. 
 
 The Isabel sped rapidly down the bay, and passed out to sea. In 
 about an hour she was alongside of the Powhatan, the flag-ship of the 
 squadron. As the steamer was made fast to the frigate, Major Ander- 
 son approached Marshall, and taking his hand, pressed it in silence. 
 He then ascended the side of the ship. Captain Gillis, the commander 
 of the expedition, met him at the gangway, and extended his hand to 
 bira. The gallant soldier barely touched it, and immediately turned 
 his back upon him. He felt nothing but contempt for the cowarJs who 
 had left him to his fate. 
 
 He had done his duty. Alas ! that he should ever have sullied the 
 proud name that he won at Sumter, by his slavish adhesion to a cause 
 that his better nature must have abhorred. 
 
 When Major Anderson's men were safely on "board the Powhatan, 
 the Isabel returned to Charleston. As she passed Fort Sumter the 
 crew gave three cheers, which were heartily responded to by the new 
 garrbon. 
 
 Marshall felt satisfied there would be no further hostilities in the 
 neighborhood of Charleston, and he determined to return home at 
 once. He knew that the war was inevitable, and that it would affect 
 Maryland very seriously, and he was anxious to play his part in what- 
 ever should happen there. 
 
 He waited on General Bearuregard and Governor Pickens, and took 
 leave of them. These gentlemen thanked him cordially for his services, 
 and expressed their best wishes for his future welfare. lie returned to 
 his hotel, and the nest morning saw him on his way to Maryland. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE fall of Forfc Sumter created a profound sensation througliout the 
 entire country, both North and South. In the North it kindled the 
 fierce fires of revenge and prepared the public mind for civil war. The 
 Cabinet ministers of President Lincoln were not mistaken in their cal- 
 culations of its efi'ect upon the North. The anti-alavery element of 
 that section was wrought up to madness by it, and eagerly seized upon 
 it as a pretext for war. The conservative portion viewing the attack 
 as an insult to the nation, and an assault upon its rights, clamored 
 loudly for vengeance. The whole North was in a fever. Eeason seem- 
 ed dethroned, and madness ruled the hour. 
 
 The news was received by President Lincoln and his Cabinet with 
 great coolness. They had expected it. The first part of their fiendish 
 programme had succeeded admirably, and the condition of the public 
 mind was favorable to the success of the remainder. Artfully pretend- 
 ing to be alarmed for the safety of " the Union, the Constitution, the 
 Flag, and the Capital," the President, in accordance with the plan 
 already mentioned, on the 15th of April, 1861, issued his proclama- 
 tion, declaring that combinations of men to resist the execution of the 
 laws existed in the seceded States, too powerful to be resisted by the 
 ordinary civil methods, anJ he, therefore, called upon the States tc 
 furnish a force of seventy-five thousand men to suppress these combi- 
 nations. He stated that the first service which these troops would be 
 called upon to perform, would be to repossess the forts and other prop- 
 erty taken from the United States ; and he commanded the persons 
 forming the combinations to which he had referred, to lay down their 
 arms and return to their homes within twenty days from that date. 
 This proclamation would hrve been simply ridiculous, but for the grave 
 issues which it involved. It was in fact a declaration of war against 
 the South. 
 
 In accordance with the plan concerted with the Governors of the 
 Free States, troops were raised instantly. The scum of the North and 
 West was mustered into the Federal regiments. Mobs held possession of 
 all the large cities, compelling all persons suspected of friendship for 
 
Tlie Aid-de-Camp. 41 
 
 the South, to bow to their dictates and give proof of their loyalty to 
 the Union. The President and Cabinet artfully kept alive and nour- 
 ished the flames of Northern wrath. The people were completely 
 blinded, and their llulcrs led them where they wished. 
 
 In the South the fall of Fort Sumter was hailed as a glorious tri- 
 umph. The people were aroused by it, and the proclamation of Iresi- 
 dent Lincoln, which followed in quick succession, opened their eyes to 
 a sense of their danger. 
 
 The Confederate Government now began to act with energy. Presi- 
 dent Davis called upon the Provisional Congress to assemble at once; 
 and issued his call for troops for the defence of the country. All over 
 the South it was responded to with spirit. Such an army as that which 
 assembled for the defence of the South, the world never saw before. 
 The Merchant, the Mechanic, the Planter, the Laborer, the Millionaire 
 and the Poor Man, all classes, all ages, contributed liberally to swell its 
 ranks. The learned professions of law, medicine, science, and even 
 divinity yielded up their votaries, and in the ranks of the Confederate 
 army might be found the true worth and nobility of the South. 
 
 All eyes were turned to the Border Slave States. They were still in 
 the Union, and had been called upon to furnish troops for the Federal 
 army. Would they do so ? The issue was no longer between Union 
 and Secession, but between North and South. The Border States at 
 once refused to aid Lincoln in his unholy war upon the South, and, 
 with the exception of Maryland and Kentucky, inaugurated measures 
 which pointed to their immediate secession, and union with the Con- 
 federacy. 
 
 Marshall travelled rapidly. He reached Richmond on the evening 
 of the 16th of April. He had business which detained him in Rich- 
 mond during the next day. He had many friends and relatives in the 
 city ; and Virginia being his native State, he felt greatly interested in 
 her action. 
 
 The Convention was in secret session on the 17th. The Commis- 
 sioners which had been sent to Washington, had returned. The course 
 which the Federal Government intended pursuing was plain to all, and 
 Virginia could hesitate no longer. 
 
 It was the general impression in RicLHiond that the State would 
 eecede that day. Marshall hurried through with his businesi?, and wait- 
 ed with impatience for the news from the Convention. But it did not 
 come. About dark, he was conversing with some friends, when a gen- 
 tleman, between Marshall and whom there existed a warm friendship; 
 approached him and drew him aside. 
 
 " Can you keep a secret ?" he asked. 
 
4g The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 "I can," was the reply. 
 
 " Then 1 will tell you one. Virginia seceded to-day. There are 
 movements on foot, of vital importance to tlio State, that render it ne- 
 cessary that this should be kept secret." 
 
 "Thank God," exclaimed Marshall, fervently. "But," he continu- 
 ed, " the position of the State is very critical. The Federal Govern- 
 ment has a strong force of regulars, and may at any time throw them 
 into Virginia. Its war vessels can come up to this very city, and either 
 lay it in ashes or take it. You are at the mercy of Lincoln, and your 
 action certainly evinces a great amount of moral courage." 
 
 " You are right," said his friend, musingly. " But anything was 
 preferable to a union with the North. What does Maryland intend 
 doing?" 
 
 " We are in a most unfortunate condition," said Marshall. " The 
 State is divided by a wide Bay, and separated from the South by a deep 
 river. * Our Governor has refused to convene the Legislature, and we 
 have been deprived of a Convention. We have no legal means of ex- 
 pressing our wishes. Our hearts arc with you, but I am afraid that we 
 Lave been betrayed into the hands of our enemies." 
 
 " Revolutionize your State. Force her out," exclaimed his friend, 
 impulsively. 
 
 " That is easier said than done," said Marshall. " It is too late now. 
 Mark my prediction. In one week from to-day we will be at the mercy 
 of the troops who will assemble at Washington." 
 
 The friends soon after separated. The next morning Marshall con- 
 tinued his journey and reached Baltimore, owing t«! a delay, late in the 
 pight of the 18th of April. 
 
 In the meantime the Northern troops had begun to assemble. On 
 the 18th of April a body of four hundred half armed and miserable 
 specimens of humanity from Pennsylvania, calling themselves United 
 States soldiers, passed through Baltimore en route for Washington. A 
 large crowd followed them through the streets, yelling and hooting at 
 them,, and heaping upon them all manner of abuse. The troops passed 
 rapidly through the city, protected hy a strong escort of the Clhj Police. 
 Before the departure of the trains for Washington, the troops informed 
 the crowd that there would be a body of men through the city the next 
 day, who would make them "see sights" if they interfered with them. 
 As soon as it was known that more troops were to be sent through the 
 city, it was determined by the crowd to dispute their passage. About 
 half past ten o'clock, on the morning of the 19th of April, Marshall 
 was standing in his office door, when a man rushed by pale and breath- 
 less. Marshall stopped him and asked : 
 
The Aid-de-Oamp. 43 
 
 « What is the mattor ?" 
 
 " The Yankee troops are at the Philadelphia Depot, and are butcli- 
 ering the citizens," was the reply. " I am going for my gun." 
 
 Marshall hurried into his office, and seizing his revolver, set off at a 
 run for the President Street Depot. 
 
 " The 10th of April — the anniversary of the battle of Lexington," 
 he muttered, as he hurried on. " It is appropriate that the first blood 
 of the war should'be shed to-day." 
 
 "When he reached the intersection of Gay and Pratt streets, he found 
 a large crowd assembled, engaged in obstructing the railroad track. 
 
 The excitement of the previous day had been greatly increased by 
 the anounccmcnt that a large body of troops would pass through the 
 city on the 19th. Early in the morning a crowd collected along Pratt 
 street^^hrough which the troops must pass to reach the Camden Sta- 
 tion, where they were to take the cars for Washington. 
 
 To avoid a repetition of the scenes of the day before, the Kailroad 
 Companies proposed to convey the troops through the city in thirty- 
 one cars. About half past ten o'clock the trains reached the President 
 Street Depot. A dense crowd had collected around the building. 
 Cheers for '• Jeff Davis" and the " Soiithern Confederacy," groans for 
 '•, Lincoln and the Yankees," curses, hootings and hisses arose on all 
 sides from the crowd. The cars were hurried out of the Depot, and 
 horses being quickly attached to them they set off at a gallop through 
 the city. The crowd at the intersection of Gray and Pratt streets, 
 seized what rude materials chance threw in their way, and commenced 
 Lo barricade the track. Six of the cars broke through, but when the 
 seventh arrived the obstructions were too formidable to be overcome. 
 The remaining cars hastily returned to the Depot from which they had 
 started. A consultation of the officers was now held, and they decided 
 that the troops should march through the city to the Washington cars. 
 
 Just before the troops left the cars, a young man, (whose name I 
 regret to be unable to give here,) entered one of them, and in bitter 
 terms reproached the troops for aiding in the war against the South. 
 An officer, with the straps of a captain on his shoulders, spraag to his 
 feet, and pointing to the door, shouted wrathfully : 
 
 " Leave the car you infernal scoundrel, or I will fire upon you." 
 
 The young man turned to him and answered defiantly : 
 
 "You are too cowardly to fire." 
 
 The officer drew his sword and cut at him. The young man received 
 the blow on his left hand, and closing with his assailant, threw him 
 heavily to the floor. A private sprang to aid his officer, but a blow 
 from the athletic Southerner laid him beside the prostrate captain. 
 
44 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 Wresting the sword and scabbard from the captain, he left the car, 
 unmolested by the Yankees, who sat gazing at him, with open mouths 
 and distended eyes, in mute astonishment. He paused for a moment 
 on the platform, and raising the sword aloft, cried exultantly : 
 
 " Hurrah, boys ! I've whipped two Yankees." 
 
 He sprang into the crowd who received him with shouts of delight. 
 •The troops were disembarked, and hastily formed. The Mayor of the 
 city, and the Mgirshal of Police placed themselves at bhe head of the cd- 
 umn, wJiile a strong Police force was in attendance to preserve order. The 
 Mayor and the Marshal sympathized deeply with the South, but they 
 resolved to sacrifice their feelings to preserve order and peace in the 
 city, as their duty required them. The mob shouted to them to come 
 away, but they disregarded the cries and kept their places at the head 
 of the troops. As the column moved off, a Confederate flag was dis- 
 played in the crowd, and was greeted with wild and enthusiastic cheers. 
 The street was filled with a fierce and exasperated multitude, which 
 moved rapidly along in order to get in front of the troops. Cries of 
 ■" kill the d — d Yankees," " no quarter," " down with them," rose fear- 
 fully on every side. The soldiers gazed around them with a timid air, 
 and hastened forward. They were frightened. Indeed the scene was 
 enough to appal stouter hearts than theirs. 
 
 As the troops passed out of Canton Avenue, they were greeted by a 
 volley of heavy stones thrown from the crowd. Two of the men were 
 struck down instantly, and several we^e severely injured. In a, few 
 minutes they were crossing the Pratt Street Bridge. Here one of them 
 turned and fired his musket into the crowd. Stones now fell in show- 
 ers upon the Yankees, striking them upon the arras, head and body. 
 They swayed from side to side, dodging the missiles which were hurled 
 upon them. Gay street was reached. The troops were halted, and the 
 sunlight flashed brilliantly along the barrels of the muskets which were 
 levelled at the crowd. For a moment there was a pause, and the crowd 
 swayed backwards with violence. " Fire," rang along the line of troops, 
 and instantly a volley of musketry was discharged into the mcb. Sev- 
 eral were killed instantly, and others severely wounded. A yell of rage 
 burst from the infuriated multitude. Up to this moment they had 
 used no other weapons but stones. Now revolvers were drawn and dis- 
 charged at the troops, and stones were literally rained upon them. 
 Hundreds left the crowd, apd breaking into the neighboring gun-shops 
 supplied themselves with arms, which they used. A rapid running fire 
 was kept up on both sides — the crowd pressing furiously upon the 
 troops. They were now as far as South street. The troops glanced 
 hastily around them, and then broke into a run. A cheer rose from 
 
The Aid-de Camp. 45 
 
 th-3 crowd. "They arc running." ''Give it to them," were shouted 
 on all sides. At Calvert street a heavy shower of stones fell upon the 
 frightened Yankees, bringing a number of them to the ground sense- 
 less. They were again ordered to fire, but they paid no attention to the 
 command, but increased their speed. The order was repeated and the 
 men brought to a halt. A second volley was fired into the crowd, kill- 
 ing and wounding several citizens. The soldiers then resumed their 
 flight. The crowd now seemed wild with fury, and the troops ran with 
 all speed towards the Washington Depot. 
 
 They reached the Depot at last^ and crowded pell mell into the cars 
 which had been prepared for them. But the fighting was not yet over. 
 Repeated vollies of stones were hurled at the cars, breaking the win* 
 dows and panels, and cutting and bruising the troops, who were finally 
 compelled to lie flat upon the floor to protect themselves ; and when- 
 ever the shower of stones would slacken, they would fire through the 
 windows. 
 
 A wild cry now rang along the platform : 
 
 " Tear up the track." 
 
 The dense crowd poured out of the Depot, and ran along the track 
 for more than a mile. It was impossible to tear up the track, for they 
 were not provided with the means of doing so 3 but in order to obstruct 
 it, huge logs and stones were thrown upon the rails. A strong Police 
 forc« followed the mob, and removed the obstructions as fast as they 
 were thrown upon the track. Finally the train, amid curses, groans 
 and execrations, passed out of the city and removed the troops from 
 the scene of danger. 
 
 Marshall had followed the crowd throughout the entire riot. He dis- 
 approved of mob violence, but he was indignant that Northern hire- 
 lings should be carried through Baltimore for the purpose of waging 
 war upon the South. He remained a silent spectator of the afi^ir un- 
 til the troops turned and fired upon the crowd. Then he could restrain 
 himself no longer. He drew his revolver and fired every barrel at the 
 the troops. He had no more ammunition, and his weapon was now 
 useless. He followed 4he crowd and used stones during the remainder 
 of the fight. When the Yankees left the Depot, he turned away, and 
 was about to return to his office, when he very unexpectedly met Mr. 
 Worthington. 
 
 As his eyes fell upon him, Marshall's first impulse was to laugh, 
 The old gentleman was standing on the Railroad, gazing angrily at the 
 train. His hat was mashed out of shape, his collar and cravat were 
 nearly torn off", his dress was greatly deranged, and his features were 
 red and swollen with passion. He grasped his cane in one hand, and 
 
46 The Md-de-Camp. 
 
 shook it defiantly in the direction of the train, which had disappeared 
 Marshall approached him with feelings of amused sur{)rise. 
 
 "My dear sir," he exclaimed, "vrhat on earth are you doing here?" 
 
 « The rascals," said the old gentleman, wrathfully, paying no atten- 
 tion to Marshall. " To dare to pass through a Southern city." 
 
 Then turning to him, .he exclaimed, with a look of astonishment, 
 "Why, Edward, ray boy, I thought you were in Charleston." 
 
 " I returned late last night," replied Marshall. '•' But tell me, Mr. 
 Worthington, what have you been doing ?" 
 
 " Helping to drive those Yankee dogs out of Baltimore." 
 
 The old man's eyes gleamed with patriotic fire. Then he glanced at 
 himself, and taking o£F his hat, straightened it. 
 
 " I am considerably used up," said he, laughing. " But there are 
 no bones broken. Come let's get a carriage and go home." 
 
 They left the Dtjpot, and soon procured a carriage and started for 
 home. They were met at the door by Mrs. "VVorthington and Mary. 
 The ladies were terribly frightened at the sight of Mr. Worthington's 
 disordered attire, but were soon convinced that he had sustained no 
 bodily injury. Mrs. Worthington welcomed Marshall warmly, and the 
 young man passing his arm around Mary's waist, pressed a kiss upon 
 her rosy lips. 
 
 " Bravo," cried Mr. Worthington. " None but the brave deserve 
 the fair. We have heard of your gallantry at Fort Sumter, young 
 man. I have behaved like a hero, myself, to-day," he added, laugh- 
 ing, and seizing his wife around the vaist, he gave her a hearty kiss. 
 
 "Where have you been, and what have you been doing, Nicholas?" 
 asked Mrs. Worthington, blushing, while an expression of amusement 
 stole over her face as she glanced at her husband's dress. 
 
 " Fighting the Yankees, my dear," was the reply. 
 
 " What fias been going on ? Do tell us, we are dying of curiosity," 
 said Mary, turning to Marshall 
 
 " There has been a serious fight in the city to-day. The Yankee 
 troops passed through Baltimore, and were attacked by the citizens. 
 Your fathej: and myself were in the fight. But can it be possible that 
 you are ignorant of it ?" 
 
 " We have been in the house all day, and have heard nothing," said 
 Mrs. Worthington, quietly, and drawing closer to her husband. 
 
 " Just like you," said the old gentleman, laughing. " The whole 
 town might burn down and you would know nothing of it, provided 
 this house did not catch fire. But sit down, for I am tired enough ; 
 and I will tell you all about it." 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 47 
 
 Mr. Worthington then related the events of the day, and wlicii lie 
 had concluded, turned abruptly to Marshall, and said : 
 
 "We have seen the accounts of the fall of Fort Sumter, and your 
 name was mentioned quite flatteringly. You must give us an account 
 of the affair." 
 
 Marshall related briefly the events connected with the fall of the 
 Fort. His narration was simple and modest, and when he had finish- 
 ed it, Mr. Worthington rose, and remarking that he must make some 
 change in his dress, left the room. His wife followed him, and Mar- 
 shall and Mary were left alone. 
 
 He led her to a scat beside him, and passing his arm around her 
 waist, drew her head down upon his shoulder. 
 
 "Are you glad to see me, after my long absence?" he asked, as he 
 gazed tenderly upon the pure face which was uplifted to his own. Mary 
 raised her eyes to his and smiled, and the young man, bending down, 
 pressed a kiss upon her tempting lips. 
 
 " I am deeply grateful that you have been permitted to return to me 
 tmhurt," she said, as her eyes grew dark with feeling. " If you had 
 been killed, it would have broken my heart." 
 
 Marshall was deeply touched. The young girl had, in these few 
 words, laid bare her heart to him. He trembled at the thought that 
 he might not be worthy of such true, womanly love. A prayer rose 
 si!ently from his heart that he might make her always as happy as she 
 then was. He drew her closer to him, and passing his hand tenderly 
 over the smooth white brows, said in a lo"V<|tone : 
 
 " It is a great blessing to any man, 3Iary, to have such a dear little 
 woman to love him as you love me. I hope that I may always deserve 
 it." 
 
 They sat together for some time, conversing in those tones which only 
 lovers use, until the entrance of Mr. and Mrs. Worthington recalled 
 them to the outer world around them. 
 
 In a short time Mr. Hairig entered, and seeing Marshall, advaaeed 
 and shook hands warmly with him. 
 
 " I am indeed glad to see you, Mr. Marshall," he said, cordially. 
 "You have returned just in time. I am now on my way to attend a 
 meeting of the citizens in Monument. Square, and I have come to ask 
 Worthington to go with me. You must accompany us." 
 
 The ladies, dreading a naw danger, urged the gentlemen to remain at 
 home. 
 
 " There is no danger to be encountered," said Mr. Harris, smiling. 
 "We are going among friends, and it is necessary that we should de- 
 termine upon our future course of action." 
 
43 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 In a sKort time the gentlemen left the house, and proceeded towards 
 Monument Square. Upon ^eac^irlg the Court-House, they were admit- 
 ted to the yard overlooking the Square, where they found Governor 
 Hicks, Ex-Governor Lowe, Mr, McLean, Mr. "Wallia, Mayor Brown, 
 and a number of other distinguished gentlemen. Marshall was well 
 known to these gentlemen, and they had seen the accounts in the news- 
 papers of his conduct at Fort Sumter. All except Governor Hicks, 
 thronged around him, and congratulated him upon his safe return. 
 
 " You must speak for us, Marshall," said Judge McLean. Marshall 
 would have declined, but his riends urged him so eagerly, that he con- 
 sented. 
 
 Baltimore was full of wild excitement, and a dense throng occupied 
 the large Square — the place appointed for the meeting. Each man 
 was busily engaged in discussing the affair of the morning, and the 
 hum of voices rose confusedly above the living mass. 
 
 At last the meeting was called to order. Speeches were made by 
 Governor Hicks, Ex-Governor Lowe, Mayor Brown, and Mr. Wallis, 
 These ge;itlemen urged upon the people the necessity of moderation 
 and firmness. Governor Hicks denounced the war, and declared that 
 his right e,rra should be severed from his body, before it should be rais- 
 ed against a Southern State. 
 
 When these gentlemen had concluded. Judge McLean was introdu- 
 ced. He was received with hearty applause, for he was known to be a 
 thorough Southerner. H^urged the people to resist the Nonhera 
 Government, and told the Ahat if it were necessary, the Susquehanna 
 should run red with the blood of their foes. He retired amid tremen- 
 dous applause. 
 
 In a few moments he re-appeared, leading Marshall to the front. 
 There was a pause in the crowd. They did not recognize him. 
 
 "My friends," said JuJge McLean, "I have the pleasure of pre- 
 f^enting to you, Mr. Edward Marshall, a gentleman well known to you 
 as an orator and a citizen, but who has won an additional claim upon 
 your respect and admiration, by his gallant conduct at Foi-t Sumter." 
 A loud cheer rose from the crowd, and hats were tossed into the air. 
 So intense was their sympathy with the South, that the mere sight of 
 a man who had participated in the bombardment of Fort Sumter, seem- 
 ed to thrill them with the wildest delight, .and it was some time before 
 the applause subsided, Marshall was gifted with a rare eloquence, and 
 the scene before him stirred bis very soul. He spoke clearly, fairly 
 and forcibly. He urged immediate union among themselves and prompt 
 action. He counselled them to avoid dissensions among themselves 
 
The Aid-de-Oamp. 4i< 
 
 .and separate action. He urged them to defend their city and State ('• 
 the last. 
 
 " Your friends are south of the Potoinac/' he said, in concIusioL; 
 "and your enemies are all around you. Your position is unquestiona 
 bly one of great danger. But will you shrink from it because it if 
 dangerous ? I feel that I am addressing the descendants of that he 
 roic ' Maryland Line' of the first Revolution, who shrank from no dan 
 ger. I know that the spirit of Smallwood and his gallant band — thf 
 men who fought at Camden — animates each heart before me. Oh then 
 by all the proud memories that cluster around the glorious name of old 
 Maryland — by all your fond hopes for the future — by the memories of 
 your forefiitlicrs whose names you would not dishonor — by the though:, 
 of your children whom you would not have to blush for your degene- 
 racy, I implore you to stand up like men for the independence and 
 rights of your native State. Defend them with your lives, if neces 
 sary, and may the (jood Lord give you the victory." 
 
 Marshall retired amidst tremendous applause. 
 
 It was determined to organize the citizens for the defence of the city 
 
 When the meetrng broke up, Marshall was surrounded by his friend*, 
 who congratulated him upon his brilliant speech. Later in the day he 
 was approached by Mr. Harris. 
 
 *• I have g >od news for you," said that gentleman, joyfully. *' Hick? 
 has consented to convene the Legislature." 
 
 " It is too late tc do any great good," said Marshall gloomily, '< Our 
 position is desperate, and I am afraid th%t we ehall be overpowered be- 
 fore the Legislature can assemble." 
 
 The excitement continued unabated. The military companies of 
 the city were placed under arms, and the citizens armed and organized 
 as far as possible. 
 
 On the night of the 19th of April, Governor Hicks gave orders fo.- 
 the destruction of all the Railroad bridges around the city, to prevent 
 the arrival cf any more troops. These orders were executed on the 
 morning of the 20th. Saturday passed away without anything worthy 
 of note occurring. 
 
 On Sunday morning tlie churches of the city were more largely at 
 teaded than usual. Marshall, in company with Mary, attended Grace 
 •Church, as was his custom. The morning passed away quietly. About 
 twelve o'clock the congregation, was startled by the loud ringing of 
 alarm bells. It could not be for firo, for they were ringing too vio- 
 lently. In a few minutes a gentleman entered the church and whi? 
 pered to Marshall : 
 
 "The enemy are advancing twenty thoiisand -strong from Cockey? 
 4 
 
j50 Tlie Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 ville. Col. Huger wishes to see you. You will find him at the armoyy 
 of the Maryland Guards." 
 
 Marshall whispered to Mary that she must go home. They left the 
 church, and on the way home he told her the cause of the excitement, 
 ••nd urged her to be calm. Her face flushed for a moment, and then 
 became deathly pale. 
 
 " Do your duty," she said, in a low tone. "1 willtrust to God to 
 bring you back to me in safety." 
 
 He left her at the door of Mr. Worthington's residence, and hurried 
 to the quarters of the Maryland Guard. He found the streets thronged 
 with people. The congregations of the various churches had been dis- 
 rrrLssed, and were hastening home with anxious hearts. Old men and 
 boys hurried along in various directions with weapons of every descrip- 
 tion. Old men, with hoary hair, tottered along with renewed strength, 
 and eyes gleaming with the awakened fire of youth, clutching deter- 
 minedly the deadly weapons with which they had provided themselves. 
 Men lined the house-tops ready to fire upon the enemy as soon as they 
 »5hould make their appearance. Loud shouts and the hum of eager 
 voices filled the air, ;ind high above all rose the hoarse clanging of the 
 alarm bells. A large crowd had assembled in Monument Square and 
 around Carroll Hall, where the Maryland Guard were quartered. 
 
 Marshall made his way through it, and approached the Hall. He 
 found the Maryland Guard drawn up in front of it. A small man, 
 »9ith hair and moustache slightly tinged with gray, and dressed in a 
 plain blue uniform, was sitting quietly on his horse, before them. He 
 was Col. Huger, formerly a distinguished officer of the United States 
 army, but now in command of the troops assembled for the defence of 
 Baltimore. 
 
 Marshall approached him, and introducing himself, told him that he 
 had received his message. 
 
 "I was advised to send for you, Mr. Marshall," said Col. Huger, dis- 
 mounting, and handing his bridle to an Orderly, " because I was told 
 that you possess great influence over these people. They are now," he 
 added, glancing around him with an expression of mingled, amusement 
 *ind anxiety, " nothing but a mob, and with all their great bravery, are 
 in great danger of being defeated by organized troops. I want you to 
 aid me in my efforts to bring some order out of this confusion." 
 
 " I will do so with pleasure," replied Marshall, " but I expect we 
 flhall find it a difficult task." 
 
 Colonel Huger then set about making some preparations for an or- 
 ganized defence of the city. The day wore away, but the excitement 
 ccntinued unabated. Late in the afternoon, information was received 
 
The Aid-dC'Camp. 51 
 
 that the enemy had halted at Cockeysville, and that they would not ad- 
 vance upon the city. The crowd then dispereed, but the volunteera 
 weie kept uniler arras. 
 
 I must now anticipate events, and furnish the reader with an outline 
 of the aflfairs which transpired after the pcjripd of this cliapter. Thig 
 is necessary in order that I may not be compelled to pause in the course 
 of this recital, to relate events of a public nature. 
 
 After <hc 19th of April, the excitement increased throughout Mary- 
 ar.d, until the whole State, from I'ennsylvania to the Potomac, wa? 
 thoroughly aroused. 
 
 But Maryland was helpless^ The refusal of the Governor to con 
 vene the Legislature had deprived her of a Convention, and the State 
 was without the means of giving authoritative expression of her will 
 Now, the enemy's troops were collecting upon her borders. Her militia 
 were unorganized, and her volunteer Loops were scarcely a handful in 
 number. The State was unarmed and almost destitute of defence. 
 Her principal cities, Baltimore and Annapolis were commanded by 
 strong forts held by the enemy; her Governor was disloyal to her, and 
 a willing instrument of the Federal Government. Her position waf» 
 highly embarrassing and dangerous. But in spite of this, she was 
 ready and anxious to go out of the Union. Alas! she had no means 
 of doing 60. 
 
 The destruction of the bridges around Baltimore had prevented the 
 United States troops from passing through that city. In order to 
 remedy this, the Federal Government caused them to be conveyed in 
 viteamers from Perryville, at the head of the Bay, to Annapolis. Thence 
 they were marched to Washington, along the line of the Eailway, They 
 <;ontinucd to pour into Washington. 
 
 The enemy having possession of the capital of the State, the Legis- 
 lature met in Frederick City. Had they been united and harmonious, 
 they might have oo.rried the State out of the Union even at that late 
 hour, but, unfortunately, they did not represent the sentiments of the 
 ueople. They delayed until it was too late to act. 
 
 The United States having determined to take military possession of 
 f.he State, B. F. Butler, a Massachusetts lawyer of slender reputation, 
 who had been made, to the surprise of every one, a Major General of 
 Volunteers, was ordered to occupy it with a strong force. The Federal 
 troops already held Annapolis, and others were stationed between Bal- 
 fin:ore and the Pennsylvania line. 
 
 On the 10th of May, Butler left the Relay House and entered Bal- 
 timore. No resistance was oflfered. Indeed, any reeistance that could 
 
52 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 have been made would have been idle. The troops were marched tc 
 Federal Hill, ^here they encamped. 
 
 Governor Hicks now threw Ou the mask, and openly embraced the 
 caase of the Lincoln Government. He issued orders for the disarming 
 of the volunteers upon the pretext that the arms were the property of 
 the State. They were collected in an outrageous manner and deposited 
 in Fort McHenry. Maryland was now completely in the power of the 
 -juemy, and could make no resistance. 
 
 General Butler was not continued long in the command of the State. 
 He was assigned the command at Fortress Monroe in Virginia, and 
 was succeeded by Brigadier G^^neral Geo. Cadwallader of Pennsylva- 
 nia, a conceited coxcomb, whose vanity was equalled only by his unfit- 
 ness for command. 
 
 In the South the Border States had seceded, and had entered the 
 Confederacy, Troops had been stationed at exposed points. York- 
 town, Norfolk, Manassas Junction, Harper's Ferry, and other place? 
 were held and strengthened. A large and gallant army was being ra- 
 pidly organized in the Confederacy, and a .spirit of stern resistance wa^ 
 everywhere exhibited. 
 
 Finding that the State was in the hands of the enemy, with no pros- 
 pect of relief, numbers of Marylanders crossed over to Virginia and 
 entered the Southern army. 
 
 Marshall determined to follow their example, and set about arrangin? 
 his affairs so that be might be able to go South as soon as possible. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 MARY Worthington was very beautiful, and was greatly admired 
 by the gentlemen of Baltimore. Although so young, she had 
 been in society for several years, She had been eagerly sought by a 
 number of gentlemen, but their addresses had been kindly, but firmly 
 rejected. 
 
 When Edward Marshall sought her love, he did not sue in vaio. 
 Her heart was at once and willingly surrendered to him, and she loved 
 him with her whole heart, not only for his noble and manly character. 
 and his high and enviable reputation, but " she loved him because sho 
 loved him ; because she could not help it." 
 
 Since their betrothal they had never been separated for more than a,- 
 day, until Marshall went to Charleston, and Mary was inexpressiblv 
 lonely during his absence. 
 
 While Marshall was away, one of her friends gave a large part\\ 
 and Mary was present. There she met with a gentleman from Phila- 
 delphia, whom her hostess presented as Mr. Henry Cameron, one of 
 her most intimate friends. Mary did not like him, but she was forced 
 to treat him politely, and as her hostess had spoken of him as such a 
 dear friend, she felt called upon to treat him with more than ordinary 
 civility. 
 
 Mr. Cameron was tall and elegantly formed; very graceful, and 
 quite handsome. His features were dark and perfectly chiselled, hi.^^ 
 eyes large and brilliant, and his hair, which he wore in the most fash 
 ionable style, was as black as night. But there was a foul and sinister 
 expression about the mouth, which made one distrust the man. 
 
 Mr. Cameron was a thorough man of the world — rather inclined to 
 be heartless, and it was whispered that he was decidedly unprincipled. 
 His manner towards Mary Worthington was marked by great defe- 
 rence, and he was more attentive to her than he had been to any one 
 for some time. 
 
 Mr. Cameron looked upon women chiefly as objects formed for liis 
 enjoyment. He passed like the bee among the flowers, from one tc^ 
 another, sipping the sweets that lay upon the surface, but never pene- 
 trating to the heart — never dealing with their better and truer natures. 
 Indeed he was too thoroughly a man of the world to care much for th0 
 
54 The Aid-de-Gamp. 
 
 heart and its feelings. When he met with Mary Worthiogton he felt 
 a Btronger emotion than he had ever known before. It could hardly 
 be called love : it was not true love, for Mr. Cameron was incapable of 
 experiencing euch a pure emotion. But, at all events, he thought that 
 he loved the young girl, and he knew that his feelings for her were flif- 
 Jerent from any that the had ever experienced for any one else. 
 
 With a woman's instinct, Mary was at once aware th.at Mr. Cameron 
 regarded her with feelings of more than ordinary interest. She re- 
 gretted this : she was annoyed by it. She could not even like him. 
 She felt that he was a cold and heartless man ; and while her love for 
 Marshall prevented Mr. Cameron from having the least prospect of 
 ** winning her, she could not even bring herself to regard hira as a friend. 
 She was placed in an unpleasant position, and was glad when the time 
 came for her to retuvn home. Once in the silence of her own cham 
 ber, she ceased to think of Mr. Cameron, and her heart warmed and 
 grew tenderer, as her thoughts turned upon her absent lover, and a 
 prayer went up to God that night that He would guide the wanderer 
 safely on his way. 
 
 The next day Mr. Cameron called, and she was forced to see him. 
 He called again the next day, and his visits were repeated daily. When 
 Marshall returned Mary told him of all that had happened, and asked 
 him what she must do. 
 
 " Treat him politely, but in sucli a manner as to convince him of the 
 hopelessness of his case," was the reply. 
 
 A few days after this, Mr. Cameron called upon her, and addressed 
 ber. She rejected him kindly, but firmly. 
 
 " I do not understand your conduct, Miss Worthington," said Mr. 
 Cameron. " You have certainly encouraged me to hope for a favora- 
 ble answer to my suit." . » 
 
 Mary was indignant that he should so grossly and willfally miflun- 
 derstand her. 
 
 "You are mistaken, air," she replied, coldly. " I have treated you 
 politely, but never encouragingly. I had hoped that my conduct 
 would have discouraged you." 
 
 " Why do you object to me, Miss Worthington ?" asked the gentle- 
 .Tian, with an air of perplexity. " Surely my wealth and position are 
 Hqual to your own." 
 
 " I have declined your offer, Jfr. Cameron, because I do not and 
 f.'annot love you," said the young lady, with dignity. 
 
 " Oh ! if that is all," said the young man, with a vanity that was 
 (Rily ludicrous, " you may overcome that feeling. You will learn to 
 
Tfie Aid-de-Camp. 55 
 
 love mo, and I promise myself the happiness of hearing a different %i\ 
 swer from you, yet. ' 
 
 "Your hope is vain, Mr. Cameron," said Mary, with mingled feel- 
 ings of amusement and indignation. " If I cannot discourage you in 
 any other way, I must tell you that I am already engaged to another 
 Surely you will now 0fe silent upon the subject." 
 
 Mr. Cameron started, as if he had been stung by a serpent. His 
 fece grew crimson, and then as pale as marble. He had not expected 
 this announcement. 
 
 "To whom ?" he asked, in a low, suppressed tone. 
 
 " You have no right to ask that question. It should be sufficient 
 for you to know that I can no longer listen to youc addresses/' was the 
 reply. 
 
 Mr. Cameron was silent. Then he exclaimed, bitterly : 
 
 " I see it all now. You love that man Marshall. That tell-tale 
 blush proves that I am right," he continued, gazing at her fixedly—- 
 th. n his eyes flashed, and he cried, excitedly, " But he shall never call 
 you his wife. Mine you must and shall be. I have sworn it by all 
 the powers of Heaven, and I will keep my oath." 
 
 The young girl's eyes gleamed indignantly. 
 
 " You forget to whom you are speaking, sir," she said proudly^ a5 
 ehe rose from her seat. " Leave me." 
 
 She pointed to the door. Mr. Cameron turned hurriedly, and move;! 
 towards it. Suddenly he paused abruptly, and, after a brief hesita^- 
 tion, returned, and said, respectfully: 
 
 "I trust that you will pardon my rudeness. Miss Worthingtou. I 
 
 hardly know what I am about. I ." He paused and his breast 
 
 heaved. 
 
 The young girl's indignation gave way to a feeling of pity. Perhap? 
 he was really suffering. So she replied gently : 
 
 " I accept your apology, Mr. Cameron ; but I think it will be better 
 for both parties that our acquaintance should end here." 
 
 " Be it as you will," he said, submissively, " but I trust I carry yfilh. 
 me your forgiveness." 
 
 " I do forgive you, freely," she exclaimed, earnestly, " and I shall 
 not t hink of you unkindly. 
 
 She held out her hand to him. He took it, bowed low over it, and 
 left the room. 
 
 Mr. Cameron was maddened by his failure. He could hardly be- 
 lieve it possible that he, the ga.y and fasqnating man of the world, 
 whose boast it was that no woman could resist his arts, had been re- 
 jected by a mere girl. He cursed himself bitterly for his folly, and 
 
/^S- The Aid-de-Camp,' 
 
 determined to be revenged upon Miss Worthington for her refusal o^ 
 him. Ilis apology was a stroke of policy * 
 
 " This cursed war," said he to himself, " will unsettle CYcrything, 
 and then I shall have a better opportunity of executing my plan." 
 
 This was the last of April. Mr. Cameron at once returned to Phila- 
 delphia. He was an intimate friend of and fit associate for General 
 Oadwalladcr; and when that officer received his appointment as Briga- 
 dier General of Volunteers, he was tendered by him the position of 
 Assistant Adjutant General, on his staff, which he at once accepted. 
 
 When General Butler was removed from Baltimore, he was suc- 
 ceeded by General Cadwallader. Captain Cameron came with him. 
 
 A few days after his arrival in Baltimore, he called at Mr. Worth- 
 ington's residence, and sent up his card, with a request to see Miss 
 Mary. In a short time the card was returned to him, with this en- 
 dorsement : 
 
 " Miss Worthington declines to receive Captain Cameron, for rea- 
 sons which are well known to him ; and for the additional reason that 
 jhe cannot consent to hold any friendly intercourse with an enemy of 
 her country." 
 
 He read the card in silence, and passed out of the house. 
 . '' She shall repent this," he hissed between his shut teeth as he 
 strode along. 
 
 Time passed away. One afternoon, about the last of May, Mary 
 went to visit a friend, living in a distant part of the city. She did not 
 start to return home until quite late. It was growing dark very rapidly, 
 and the lamps were not lit. She hastened on timidly, and turned into 
 a cross street. As she did so, a heavy cloak was thrown over her 
 head, and a pair of stout arms seized her. She felt herself lifted 
 from the ground and borne rapidly along. Her captor entered a car- 
 riage, still retaining his grasp upon her, and the vehicle was driven 
 away. 
 
 From the moment of her seizure, Mary struggled violently, and as- 
 3he was placed in the carriage, succeeded in partially removing the 
 covering from her head. She immediately uttered a loud cry for help. 
 Her captor roughly replaced the covering, and as the carriage drove 
 off, said to her sternly: 
 
 *' It is useless to struggle. You must go with me." 
 
 The young girl recognized the voice. It was Captain Cameron's. 
 
 Since the day that Mary had refused to see him, Cameron had 
 watched her movements, fully resolved upon his plan of revenge. He 
 -lad seen her leave her father's house, and had followed her to her 
 mend's. He at once procured a carriage, and sending the driver back 
 
The Aid-de-Camp.' 57- 
 
 to the stable, made his servant — a " white negro," who was as great a 
 rascal as his master — mount the bos. When Mary reappeared on the 
 street, he followed her cautiously, and taking advantage of the dark- 
 iiess, seized her, and conveyed her to the carriage. 
 
 On that very day Marshall had completed his arrangements, and bad 
 determined to go to Virginia in a few days. lie had business in the 
 western part of the city that afternoon, and was returning to his office 
 about dark, when ho saw a short distance ahead of him a female figure, 
 which at a glance he knew to be Mary's. Wondering what could 
 keep her out on the street so late, he hurried on to overtake her. He 
 had almost caught up with her, when she turned into a cross street, 
 and his foot slipped on a piece of apple peel, and he fell to the ground. 
 When he rose to his feet, he saw l^er struggling in the arms of a m.an 
 who was placing her iu a carriage. He heard her cry for help, and 
 rushed towards the carriage, but before he reached it, it set off rapidly 
 in an easterly direction. He gave chase to it with all speed. In a few 
 minutes he came up with a hack. Stopping it, he sprang to the box 
 and shouted to the driver, as he pointed to the carriage which was 
 flying before them : 
 
 << Two hundred dollars if you will catch that hack." 
 
 Stimulated by the prospect of such a liberal reward, the driver 
 lashed his horses furiously and urged them to their greatest speed.. 
 They were a pair of noble animals, and they gained rapidly upon the 
 carriage. As they drew near it, Marshall turned to the driver, and 
 said hurriedly : 
 
 " There is only one way to stop it. AYe must run into it. Yoii. 
 know who I am. I will give you five hundred dollars, and pay for the 
 damage to your hack, if you will run into that carriage and stop it." 
 
 Five hundred dollars seemed almost a fortune to the poor driver. 
 It was a dangerous undertaking that he was asked to perform ; but ha 
 muttered firmly as he lashed his horses onward : 
 
 " All right, sir, I'll do it." 
 
 The hack flew on at a fearful rate. It was evident that the driver 
 of the carriage saw that he was pursued, for he lashed his horses to 
 their utmost speed. Both vehicles seemed to fly with the speed of tho 
 wind, and the fire flew in flames from the heavy paving stones under 
 their wheels. The pursuers were rapidly gaining upon the pursued- 
 On they came, nearer and nearer, until at last they were side by 'side. 
 They had crossed the bridge, gone beyond High street, and were now 
 in the wide portion of Baltimore street iu Old Town. 
 
 " Now," shouted Marshall, "run. into them." 
 
 There was a crash as the two vehicles came together, and Marshall 
 
5% The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 felt himself hurled violently to the ground. For a few moments he 
 lay stunned. When he recovered his consciousnesSj he sprang to his 
 feet and gazed wildly around him. His hack was lying helplessly or. 
 one side and the driver was standing by his panting horses. But th<^ 
 carriage could nowhere be seen. 
 
 " Hope you ain't hurt, Mr. Slarshall," said the driver, as he saw 
 him rise. '< Only one wheel broke. I'd have helped you up, but I 
 was afraid to leave my horses." 
 
 " Where is the carriage T' asked Marshall quickly, 
 
 " Gone, sir,'' said the driver. " 'Twas too strong for us. We jarred 
 it mightily, but it went by without breaking." ' 
 
 "Which way did it go ?" asked the young man, gazing around hhn. 
 
 "There," said the driver, indicating with his finder the directior, 
 which the carriage had taken. " But it's of no use for you to follow 
 it. It has been out of sight for nearly ten minutes." 
 
 " You are right," said Marshall, gloomily. " I must set the police 
 upon the track of that man, whoever he is. Come to my office in tht- 
 morning, and I will pay you what I have promised you." 
 
 He then sought the office of the Marshal of Police, He stated his 
 case to him, and the Marshal promised to set the detectives to work t.' 
 discover where the young lady had been taken. Marshall then went 
 to Mr. Woithington's. He found the old gentleman and his wife anx- 
 ious and uneasy at the absence of their "daughter. Charlie Worthing- 
 ton had gone to the house of Mary's friend to see if she were stili 
 there, and accompany her home. Marshall told them what had haj ■ 
 pened. Their alarm and grief were very great. The night was speuv 
 in searching for the young girl, but no trace of her could be discov- 
 ered. 
 
 The next morning Marshall was sitting in his office, waiting for a de 
 tective, with whom he was to renew the search. The hackman, whot- 
 he had engaged on the previous night, had just left him, and he wa- 
 sitting with his head bowed upon his hands, indulging in the mo,-' 
 painful and gloomy reflections. He heard footsteps in the room, an- 
 raised his head. The sight that met his view caused him to spring t ~ 
 his feet in astonishment. 
 
 Half a dozen Federal soldiers were standing in the room, resting 
 upon their muskets. Near him Captain Cameron was standing, gazing- 
 at him in silence, while a mocking smile played around his lips. 
 
 " What does this mean, Captain Cameron ?" asked Marshall in a?- 
 tonishment. 
 
 " It means that I have come to arrest yeu," was the cool reply. 
 
 "Upon what charge?" 
 
, The Aid-de-Camp. 59 
 
 "Treason !" paid tlie captain, sternly. 
 
 *' I have been guilty of no such crime," exclaimed Marshall, indig- 
 nantly. "I will not be arrested." 
 
 '* Mr. Marshall," said the Federal officer, coldly, " I have been or 
 deved by General Cadwallader to arrest and convey you to Fort 
 McHenry. You can probably satisfy him of your inhocence. I am 
 prepared to execute my orders, and shall certainly carry you with me." 
 
 " You take great precautions to arrest one unarmed raan," said 
 Marshall, with a smile of contempt. " I will go with you, sir, and I 
 am sure that I shall satisfy General Cadwallader of the fallacy of this 
 charge." 
 
 Marshall accompanied Captain Cameron to the Fort. When they 
 reached it he demanded to be taken before General Cadwallader. 
 
 " Follow me, sir," said Captain Cameron. " He is in his office.'' 
 
 Marshall followed him until they came \o a door at the side of the 
 court yard of the Fort. Cameron opened it, and stood waiting for 
 Marshall to pass in. The unsuspecting young man did so, and the 
 door was immediately closed with a clang, and 'locked. Marshall 
 rusheti to it, and tried to open it, but in vain. It was fast. He heard 
 a loud mocking laugh without, and Cameron's voice exclaimed : 
 
 " I have you now, Mr. Marshall. Mary Worthington is in my power 
 I shall marry her to-morrow night. You may as well make up your 
 mind to spend the summer here. Good morning, sir." 
 
 Marshall shuddered at the thought that Mary was in the power of 
 such a villain as Cameron. In a mon;ent the whole plan, flashed across 
 his mind. Mary was to be forced into a marriage with her abductor, 
 and be had been arrested in order to prevent him from giving her any 
 aid. He rushed to the door, and shook it violently, but he could not 
 open it. The window of the room was strongly burred. He shouted 
 aloud for help. The only reply that he received was a gruff command 
 from a Federal soldier, who happened to be passing, to "be quiet." 
 He ■wai' helpless, and his affianced wife was in the power of a villain. 
 He covered his face with his hands, and great tears of bitter agony 
 fell through his fingers. 
 
 When the carriage which contained Mary and her captor had fairly 
 litarted, the covering was removed from her head, and she saw that she 
 was in the arms of an officer of the Federal army. In an instant she 
 knew that her abductor was Captain Cameron. She struggled violently 
 to free herself from him, but he held her with a grasp of iron. Her 
 struggles grew feebler, and finally ceased altogether. She had fainted. 
 
 The carriage was driven rapidly across the Falls, and towards the 
 eastern portion of the city. Soon Captain Cameron heard a vehicle 
 
(ofir The Aid'de-Qamp. , 
 
 approaching quickly behind them, and glancing through the back win- 
 dow, he saw a hack coming after them at full speed. He knew that he 
 was pursued, rind he shouted to his servant to drive faster. Soon the 
 vehicles were side by side. Then came the crash as the pursuing hack 
 dashed into his own. The carriage swayed violently to one side, but 
 kept on its course. Its great strength had saved ic. Cameron glanced 
 at the hack; and an exclamation of savage joy escaped his lips as he 
 .saw it fall heavily to one side. The carriage kept on, and turning down 
 Broadway, passed towards Fell's Point. It paused before a dark and 
 gloomy brick house near the water. The young girl, still insensible, 
 was lifted from the carriage and carried to the house. 
 
 When Mary recovered her consciousness, she found herself lying on 
 a lounge in a richly furnished apartment. Captain Cameron. was sit- 
 ting by her, bathing her temples with cold water. She started up, and 
 gazed around her with a bewildered stare. She could hardly believe 
 the scene real. 
 
 " Where am I ?" she murmured. 
 
 *• Where you will be respected by friends," said Captain Cameron, 
 advancing tc her. 
 
 She gazed at him with an expression of fear and loathing, and ex- 
 claimed : 
 
 " Why have you brought me here ? What have I done to you ?" 
 •^ You have nothing to fear, Miss Worthington," said Captain Came- 
 ron, in a soothing tone. " You refused to allow me to visit you, and I 
 have determined to see you. This is why I have brought you here. 
 Listen to me. I love you with a wild and fearful passion. I must and 
 will call you mine. - Consent to be my wife, and a minister shall join 
 our hands at once. Then I will restore you to your parents. I can 
 easily obtain their forgiveness. I am wcahhy, and, as my wife, your 
 every desire shall be gratified. Will you be my wife?" 
 
 Mary had listened to him with astonishment and indignation. When 
 he finished, she drew herself up proudly, and gazed at him with eyes 
 whose scornful fires made him lower his, and gaze uneasily upon the 
 floor. 
 
 " You disgrace even the uniform that you wear, craven," she cried, 
 indignantly. ^' I scorn you." 
 
 Cameron's face flushed wrathfully, and he clenched his hand. But 
 he calmed himself, and answered coldly : 
 
 " I will leave you to your own reflections. You do not quit this 
 house except as my wife. This bouse, the servants, all things here, are 
 mine. You will be calmer in the morning, and I will see you then." 
 He turned on his heel and left the room. Mary saw him depart, and 
 
The Aid-de-Canip. (j^ 
 
 heard btm lock the door behind him. Then her co-arago failed her, 
 and she sank oh her knees and wept bitterly. She was a prey trO tlu- 
 wildest and most terrible fear?. She knew that she was in the power 
 of a man who wohM not scruple at anything. What could she do to 
 protect herself? Then came thonghts of home and her anxious and 
 grief stricken parent". Then she thought of Marshall. Poor girl '. 
 her sufferings were intense. Bodily anguish she could have endured, 
 but it seemed that this mental torture would drive her mad. She pass- 
 ed a sleepless right. She longed for the morning to come, yet she 
 dreaded its approach, for she knew that she would see her persecutor. 
 At last the day came. A few hours after light, the door was opened. 
 She started up in ahirra. It v^as only a servant, who came to extinguish 
 the gas. He returned soon afterwards 5 and plaoed a tein_>ting break- 
 fast upon the table, and then withdrew in silence. 
 
 The day wore away, and Mary grew calmer. About noon Captain 
 Cameron made his appearance. There was a flush of triun^ph upon his 
 face, and he seated himself by the side of the yov.ng girl, who rosG and 
 walked to the opposite side of the room. 
 
 " Have you decided ?" he asked, rising and approaching her. 
 " I have, sir," she replied, shrinking from him. 
 " And your answer ?" 
 
 '•' Is the same that I gave you last night," she said quickly. 
 " Indeed," snid Cameron, insolently. " But perhaps you may change 
 it. I have something to say to you, which may influence your decision. 
 Last night, when I was conveying you here in znj carriage, I was pur- 
 sued by your lover, Edward Marshall. He tried to break my carriage 
 and stop me, but he failed to do so. This morning I arrest-^d hiva upon 
 the charge of treason, and he is now lying in Fort MoIIeary. The 
 penalty of the crime is death, or imprisonment for life. You .can save 
 him if you will. Consent to be my wife, and I will release him. Ke- 
 fuse, and he mist pay the penalty." 
 
 He paused p.nd gazed eearchingly at her. She shrank before him, 
 and shuddered under his glance. Her heart aohed at the thought of 
 her lover being in the power of her tormentor. vShe trembled at the 
 thought of his dying the death of a traitor. Should she thivlsq to save 
 him? Would it be true love to prefer her own happino-s before his 
 life? She was cruelly tempted. Then she asked herself would Mar- 
 shall desire her to save his life by proving false to him. No ! They 
 should be faithful to each other under all circumstances. Death would 
 be more welcome than life upon the conditions offered her. Captain 
 Cameron watched her closely. 
 '* Decide !" he said coldly. 
 
ea The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 She raised her head, which had been bowed upon her breast. 
 
 " I have decided/' she replied, calmly and firmly. '' Do your woret, 
 1 defy you." 
 
 '•' Stubborn," he muttered angrily. Then turning to depart, he . 
 lidded, *' Tomorrow night, at eight o'clock, I will return and bring 
 with n.e a minister. If you will consent to be my wife, the ceremony 
 will then be performed. If you do not consent to be mine, fairly, I 
 shall have to use force. Adieu," he continued, with a mocking smile. 
 *' To-morrow night will see you Mrs. Henry Cameron. I congratulate 
 you upon your good fortune." 
 
 He passed out of the room. Mary was bewildered by what she had 
 heard. The clouds seemed gathering darkly around her, and she could 
 nowhere see a ray of hope. The day passed slowly and painfully away, 
 and night came at last. 
 
 A servant entered and lit the gas, and removed the breakfast and 
 dinner, which lay upon the table untouched, and then pa.ssed out in 
 silence. The night wore on, and Mary heard a distant bell toll the 
 hour of nine. She was growing calmer, but more hopeless. She sank 
 on her knees and began to pray. She felt that she had only one friend 
 who could aid her, and that He was powerful to save even in the darkest 
 hour of trial. She prayed mo?,i earnestly, and wrapt in the fervor of 
 devotion, spoke aloud, and was unconscious of what was passing around 
 her. 
 
 The door opened silently, and a woman entered so noiselessly that 
 Mary did not hear her. She closed the door softly, and advanced into 
 the room. She was a woman of queenly beauty, with hair as black a? 
 jet, and large and lustrous dark eyes. Her closely fitting dress revealed 
 the exquisite proportions of her magnificent form. There was a strange 
 and brilliant glow upon her cheeks, a stern, determined look upon her 
 face, and in her right hand she grasped firmly a large knife, which 
 glittered brilliantly in the gas light. 
 
 As she advanced into the room, her eyes fell upon the kneeling form 
 of the young girl, and she paased in astonishment. She leant forward 
 and listened eagerly. Unconscious of her presence. Mary prayed to be 
 delivered from the power of her oppressor. An expression of joy 
 passed over the stranger's features. As the young girl continued, her 
 features grew very pale, and she clasped her hands, and her frame 
 shook with a sudden and violent angu'sh. The knife iell from her 
 hand, and clattered upon the floor. Eoused by this noise, Mary sprang 
 to her feet, and gazed first at the strange woman and then at the knife, 
 in great alarm. In her weak and exhausted condition, the esicitement 
 was too great for her. Her features grew ashy pale, she reeled; and 
 
The Aid'de-Camp. 63 
 
 ^ould have fallen to the floor, had not the strange woman received her 
 in her arms. She carried the insensible girl to the lounge, which was 
 near, and tried to revive her. She gazed with a pitjfing expression 
 upon the pure young features, now as pale and rigid as marble. 
 
 " It cannot be true," she muttered to herself. " There is no sin 
 here. I must, I will save her.'' 
 
 At last Mary slowly opened her eyes, and fixed them upon the strange 
 woman, who was bending over her with a look of deep and tender 
 sympathy. That look re-assured her, and she rose from the couch, and 
 *arning to the stranger, asked in a tremulous voice : 
 
 ♦* Who are you, and what do you wish ?" 
 
 "I am your friend," replied the woman, in a voice of exquisite 
 melody, " and I have come ta save you. But first tell me how you 
 oame here." 
 
 Mary gazed into- her face fur some time, and meeting again those sad 
 and tender eye?, she felt encouraged, and told her all that had happened 
 to her. 
 
 " I knew it,'" said the stranger, in a tone of relief. " Henry Cameron 
 iied to me." 
 
 " Who are you ?" asked Mary, almost forgetting her danger, in her 
 admiration of the exquisite beauty of the stranger. 
 
 *' It is a very long story," haid the woman, in a bitter tone, "but I 
 will try to make it as short as possible. I am the daughter of a wealthy 
 merchant of Philadelphia. Henry Cameron won my love, and profes- 
 sed to love nae. He persuaded me to consent to a private marriage, 
 tor my parents objected to him. We were married, as I thought. 
 When he came ta Baltimore with General Cadwallader, I came with 
 him. Four days ago be came to me and told me that our marriage was 
 an imposture — that I am not his wife." The strange woman's breast 
 heaved convulsively, her cheeks grew crimson, and her eyes flashed as 
 she continued rapidly, " I cannot tell you how I suffered, bow I implored 
 him to repair the wrong that he had done. He told me that he loved 
 another — that he would bring her here, and marry her this week. Our 
 relations to each other might remain undisturbed, but he was deter- 
 mined to marry another. I grew calm, and seemed to consent to his 
 arrangement, but in my heart I resolved upon a deep and fearful ven- 
 geance. I could not lift my hand against 7tim, but I resolved that 
 when he brought here the woman that had weaned his love away from 
 me she should not live. When you canie, I tried to reach you at once, 
 but failed. To-night I came to take your life. But when I saw you 
 kneeling, and heard you pray to be delivered from this place and ita 
 07»ner, a new light flashed through my mind. Henry Cameron- had 
 
64 The Aid-d^-Canif. 
 
 resolved to make you another victim of his villainy. I see through the 
 whole plot now. That prayer has saved you. God has answered it, 
 ' and I an' now here to rescue you." 
 
 •' Oh save me !" cried the young girl falling on her knees and seizing 
 the hand of her unknown friend. tSave me, and Heaven will ble^s 
 you." 
 
 The woman gated at her with a strangely sweet expression, and the 
 dark eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " Poor child," she murmured, " he must indeed be a villain, who can 
 harbor a thought of evil against you. But fear not. I have promised 
 to save you, and I will do so." 
 
 She rose and assisted Mary to put on her bonnet and shawl. 
 
 " Now," paid she, " give me your hand, and follow me in silence. 
 We have no time to lose. We ma.y be discovered ; but we must run 
 the risk." 
 
 They left the room and entered a long, dark passage. Mary was 
 led rapidly through it by her unknown friend, and then down a long 
 flight of stairs. Soon they were standing in the street. 
 
 The night was clear, and the cool river breeze felt refreshing to the 
 young girl's flushed cheeks. They walked on some distance from the 
 house, and soon turned into a large and wide street. Here her guide 
 paused. ' 
 
 " This is Broadway," she said, as she pressed Mai-y's hand. " You 
 cafi find your way home by following the railway into Baltimore street. 
 I must leave you now." 
 
 " Surely," exclaimed Mary, in a tone of astonishment, " you are not 
 going back into that villain's power. Come with me. My parents Vrill 
 protect you." 
 
 " No," replied the stranger, gazing at her, sadl3\ '' I am not fit to 
 go with you. I have sinned too deeply." 
 
 " But you tinned unwittingly," said Mary, as the tears of sympathy 
 came into her eyes. " My parents will love you for the service that 
 you have rendered me. We shall obtain for yon the forgiveness of 
 your own parents, and you shall be restored to your home again." 
 
 '" It cannot be," said the strange woman, mournfully. " Villain as 
 he is, I love Henry Cameron too well to leave him. I feel that my fate 
 is linked with his. I must return. Farewell." 
 
 She clasped the young girl in her arms, and pressing a kiss upon her 
 lips, hurried away. Mary stood gazing after her with tear-dimmed 
 eyes, and wondered how a woman so beautiful, and of such a noble 
 nature, could love a man so depraved as Cara«Ton, 
 
Tne Aid-de-Oxmp. 66 
 
 A ■%'oman's love once ■won, remains steadfast and fauhful forever. 
 Time and changes cannot alter it. It burns purely and briglitlj amid 
 care and sorrow, coldness and neglect. All things el'se change, but it 
 remains the same. Woman brought woe into the world by her first 
 sin, and God in pity, planted in her breast that holy love, which han- 
 made earth almost an Eden, and without which Heaven itself would 
 seem lonely. From his cradle to his grave, it watches over man with 
 a tender and noble devotion. It guards his infancy, blesses his prime 
 comforts his age, and cheers his dying hour. It asks nothing but ?, 
 return of love — that a spark of its own divine fire liiay enter into and 
 fill the heart "beloved, expanding and beautifying it, and encirclinj^ 
 man's liTe with a nobleness and truth that tis own nature is powerless 
 to 'besto'fr. 
 
 Mary watehed the stranger until she had passed out of sight. Then 
 slie hastened into Baltimore street, and hurried homewards. The 
 streets were almost deserted, though it was not quite eleven o'clock. 
 
 She reached her father'? house in safety. A light was barning ia 
 the hall. She rang the boll, and' in a few moments the door w^.m 
 opened, and she was clasped in her brothers arms. He bore her into 
 the parlor where her parents were seated, with sad hearts, for they had 
 despaired of seeing her again. It "was a joyful meeting. When all 
 parties grew calm, Mary told of her capture, imprisonmerit and escape. 
 That night prayers of thankfulness went up to God, and the unknowa 
 woman, who had caused all this joy, was not forgotten in them. 
 
 As soon as Mr, Worthington had been informed by Marshall of tt,.; 
 abd-uction of his daughter, he searched for her in every direction. 
 On the next morning he went to Marshall's ofiice, to ascertain whether 
 the young man had discovered any trace of the absent one. To his 
 astonishment he learned that Marshall had been arrested and convejf d 
 to Fort McHenry. He immediately procured a carriage, drove to the 
 Fort, and requested permission to see the prisoner. His request ^as 
 refused, and he was ordered away from the Fort. He returned to ti.e 
 city, and passed the day in searching for his child. He returned hooA.e 
 at night, and in answer (o his wife's eager inquiries, replied that Lr 
 had learned nothing. Th^family were assembled, with sad hearts, and 
 in silence, in the parlor that aight, when they were aroused by the 
 ringing of the bell. The Eurprise that awaited tlltem was joyful beyond 
 description. 
 
 The morning after hra siater'e return, Charlie Worthington went lo 
 
 Fort McHenry, and asked to see Captain Cflmeron. He was informed 
 
 that the Captain had left that morning for Philadelphia, and would ixot 
 
 be back for a week. He returned boiae; reeolving to await Captala 
 
 5 
 
9S The Aid-de-Cuvip. 
 
 Cameron's return, when he would make him. account to Him for Eb- 
 conduct to his sister. 
 
 That afternoon Mary glanced over the evening edition of the 
 " American," when her eyes fell upon the following paragraph : 
 
 "Mysterious Affair.^— '^hh morning the body of a female of cKtra- 
 ordinary beauty was found floating in the harbor at Fell's Point. Mark? 
 cf violence were found iipon her person, and a deep wound had been 
 inflicted just over the heart. The coroner's j^ury decided that she 
 came to her death frotr. the effects of a wound inflicted by the hands' 
 of some unknown persci:. Nothicg hc-s been discovered which may 
 lead to the detection of the murdtier, A deep mystery shrouds the 
 whole affair. Who the unfortunate woman was whose wonderful beauty 
 and sad fate have excited so much sympathy in her behalf, we know 
 not. She was, doubtless, one of those unfortunate beings, whose bitter 
 lives too often close in this tragic manner." 
 
 Mary was satisfied that this unfortunate woman was her preserver? 
 who had fallen a victim to Caiaeron's anger, when he discovered her 
 escape. She shuddered with horror at the thought. But she could 
 not consent to allow her to be buried in the place assigned to such 
 unfortunates for their last,, deep sleep, so she urged her father to have 
 the body interred in his own bt in G-reea Mount. This he readily 
 promised her. But when she urged him to take some steps to have 
 the murderer brought to justice, he replied : 
 
 " That I cannot do. We can prove nothing, so we must remain 
 quiet. We shall only get ourselves into trouble by attempting to inves- 
 tigate this matter." 
 
 Since her escape, Mary had thought often and anxiously of her 
 lover, languishing in hia prison. On this evening she approached her 
 brother, and taking him aside, said to him : 
 
 " Charlie, is it possible for me to see Edward V' 
 
 " No," replied her brother, " he is not allowed to see aay one." 
 
 "Bat I must see him," she continued, earnestly. 
 
 " That is impossible," said Charlie, sadly. 
 
 " It is not impossible," she replied energ«tically. " We must try tc 
 get him out. I have a plan which I know will succeed. Listen to 
 me, and I will tell it to you." 
 
 She spoke rapidly and earnestly, as she related to him a plan, which 
 she had conceived, for Marshall's escape from the Fort. Charlie 
 listened attentively, and whenshe hadtiaished caught her in his arms, 
 atid gave her a hearty kiss. 
 
 ^'By George, Mary," he exclaimed, eathusiaetically, "you are worth 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 67 
 
 :i thousand snch men as I am. I never would have thought of this. 
 I'll do as you say, and wc can try it, at all events." 
 
 The next afternoon a carriage drove up to Fort McIIenry, and a lady 
 and gentleman alighted from it, and asked to see General Cadwallader. 
 They were shown into his presence. The gentleman introduced him- 
 self as Mr. Hopkins cff Baltimore, and the lady as Miss Marshall, 
 
 " Miss Marshall has come, General," said he, to solicit a short inter- 
 view with her brother, who is now confined in the Fort." 
 
 " It cannot be granted, sir," said General Cadwallader, sternly 
 " State prisoners are not allowed to see any one." 
 
 The lady begged earnestly to be allowed to see the prisoner, an<i 
 after much solicitation General Cadwallader consented to allow her an 
 interview for half an hour. She thanked him warmly, and followed 
 the officer, whom he summoned to conduct her to the cell of the 
 prisoner. 
 
 Edward Marshall, since his confinement, had seen no one but a 
 soldier who brought him his meals of bread and water. Ho was sit- 
 ting with his face buried in his hands, indulging in the most painful 
 reveries. Suddenly he heard the door open, and some one enter, and 
 then the door was closed. He looked up, and saw a lady gazing at 
 him. He rose to his feet, and in a moment he sprang forward and 
 clasped her in his arms. 
 
 " Mary, dear Mary," he exclaimed, in a tone of delight, 'i this is 
 indeed a welcome visit. But tell me how came you here ? Where is 
 Cameron ?". 
 
 " I must talk quickly," said she, smiling through her tears, " for I 
 have much to tell you, and only half an hour to stay." 
 
 Then she told him all that had happened to her since their last meet- 
 ing. 
 
 " Thank God," he inurmured, as he drew her closer to him, " you 
 are safe now. I can bear this imprisonment more patiently now. It 
 was indeed kind in you to come here." 
 
 " I am heri as your sister," said Mary, " and I have come to enable 
 you to escape." 
 
 vShe produced two packages, which she had eop.'Cealed upon her frer- 
 son. 
 
 " These bundles," she continued, " contain a life-preserver, a coil of 
 rope, and a set of burglar's tools. With the last named articles, you 
 <!an cut away the bars of your window, and escape from this cell. 
 Once out of it, I rely upon your own ing^uity to get out of the Fort, 
 You must go to the river and swim across to tlie Anne Arundle shore — 
 the bridges are guarded. Charlie and I will wait for you with a horse, 
 
68 ' The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 about a mile down tHe Annapolis road, at midnight. You will find in 
 the bundles everything that you need." 
 
 " You are a treasure, Mary," cried Marshall, kissing her gratefully. 
 
 " Wait until you are out of thi.g place, and then thank me," she said 
 gently. 
 
 The half hour passed quickly away. The officer who had conducted 
 her thither, entered the apartment, and informed her that the time 
 had expired. 
 
 "Good bye, brother," she said, with a smile, as she rose to go away 
 Marshall bent over and kissed her, and told her that she must com? 
 again. As she reached the door, Mary turiied to her lover with a smile 
 of encouragement, and then left the room. 
 
 "When he was alone, Marshall opened his bundles. In one of them 
 he found a lifepreeerver, and a coil of rope in the other, a burglar's 
 file, saw and knife, and a small pnial of oil. He examined them 
 closely and found them in excellent order. Then he concealed them 
 in his bed, until he should need them. 
 
 About nine o'clock an officer entered the room to see if all were 
 safe. Marshall was lying on the bed, pretending to be ^siecp. The 
 officer flashed the light of the lantern in his face, gazed ni him for a 
 few minutes, and then passed out. 
 
 When he thought that it was time to begin his work, Marshall re- 
 moved the crystal from his watch, and felt along the face to ascertain 
 the position of the hands, for it was too dark to eec them. A.s well n« 
 ha could determine the time in this way, he found that it was almost 
 eleven o'clock. He placed hi.s life-preserver around him, and moved 
 the table quietly to the window. Mounting upon it, he took out hj« 
 fine burglar's saw and began cutting the bars, "using the oil to dampen the 
 metal and prevent any noise being made. He cut away bar after bar. 
 and laid them silently upon the floor, until only one remained. He 
 was some time in accomplishing this, and his heart beat violently, and 
 his breath came quickly, as he worked upon the remaining bar. Sud- 
 denly, just as the bar was cut through, hia hand slipped and knocked 
 the heavy iron r!>d out of the window. It fell to the ground with u 
 heavy sound, and Marshall crouched down from the window in alarm. 
 He trembled violently, aa he heard th« rough challenge of the sentin*'! 
 on the ramparts just above him : , 
 
 " Who goes there ?" 
 
 A cat had been frightened from its place of rest under the window 
 by the fall of the bar, and darted off in the direction of the rampar*, 
 Marshall heard, with delight, the sentinel mutter, as he passed on • 
 
 '•'Curse that cat. That's twice to-n'ght it has startled me." 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. ... 09 
 
 lie waited for>a few minutes until everything grew quiet. Then he 
 climbed through the window, which w^s not far from the ground, and 
 let himself drop gently into the yard of the Fort. He crouched in 
 silence' for a moment in the shadow of the wall, and guzed around him. 
 Having ascertained the exact position of everything, he crept slowly 
 and stealthily towards the rampart facing the back branch of the Pa- 
 tapsco. He reached it, and then gazed down below him, and arOund 
 him Before him and on either side lay the river, with a scor3 of 
 lights twinkling upon it, and reflecting in its clear bospm the millions 
 of stars that were gemming the Heavens. The breeze blew coolly iu 
 from the bay, and the waters rippled upon the sliore with a low, mur- 
 muring sound. Back of him was the city with its dark structures and 
 long rows of lights. 
 
 Marshall did not pause long to observe these things, but leaning 
 over the rc^mpart, fastened his rope to one of the long black guns that 
 projected over the wall. He had just made it fast when he heard 
 footsteps approaching. He crouched down in the shadow of the gun- 
 carriage and remained perfectly quiet and motionless. Soon a sentinel 
 approached, and pausing by the gun-carriage, rested his musket on 
 the ground and leaned upon it. 
 
 •'.I wonder what they are doing in old Virgiany to-night," he mut- 
 tered, as he gazed over the river. '•' By George ! 1 would like to be 
 there." 
 
 He etoo^ for several minutes, which seemed to Marshall like ages, 
 and then took up his musket and passed on. Marshall watched him 
 until he was out of sight, and then creeping .t© the edge of the ram- 
 part, seized the rope, and lowered himself quickly to the ground with- 
 out • He was row free from the Fort, but the danger was not yet 
 passed. As he reached the ground, a wjld and joyful sensation passed 
 through his frame j he was a freeman once more, and with God's help 
 he would remain so. He hastened along the shore until he reached a 
 point some distance above the Fort. He was an excellent swimmer, 
 but the river was wide, and the night dark and cold. He removed his 
 clothes and fastened them iu a bundle, which he tied to his head. 
 Then inflating his life-preserver, he fastened it around him, and en- 
 tered the water, which chilled his very blood. He struck out boldly 
 from the shore, and was soon fairly out into the stream. After a con- 
 siderable length of time he reached the Anne Arundel shore. ' Here 
 he dressed himself, and glancing at his watch, saw by the clear star- 
 light, that it was two o'clock. He was well acquainted with that por- 
 tion of the country and was enabled to reach the Annapolis road with- 
 out delay. 
 
70 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 Hastening on, he soon discovered three dusky oLjects standing in 
 the road some distance ahead of him. He hurried on and discovered 
 that the^' were three horses which were being held by a man. A wo- 
 man was fitanding in the road near them. Marshall advanced to meet 
 her, and she sprang to him with a cry of joy. 
 
 " Free, Mary, free, thanks to you, darling," he exclaimed, as he 
 clasped her in his arms. 
 
 "I feared that you had failed, you were so late," she said as she 
 clung closely to him. Then she added, " Here is Charlie holding the 
 horses." 
 
 Mar,shall advanced and greeted his friend. 
 
 "I must thank you, too," he said, as he grasped Charlie's hand, 
 warmly. " Both of you have proved true friends in the hour ot 
 need." 
 
 "We have no time for talking, Marshall," said Charlie. Put Mary 
 on her horse, and then mount this one. I went to your room to-day 
 and packed a small, portmanteau with some necessary articles. I have 
 strapped it to your saddle. Father found a check with your name to 
 it, in your check book, and he has drawn all your money out of the 
 Bank. Here it is," he added, handing him a heavy pocket book. " In 
 this pocket book you will find a paper with directions for your route, 
 and where to stop. Now let's be off. We will ride a mile or two 
 with you." 
 
 Marshall then placed Mary on her horse, and mounted his own. 
 They set off. In about an hour he bade his friends farewell, and 
 they turned back towards Baltimore. He watched them until they 
 were out of sight, and then set off at a gallop. 
 
 The first and second days of his journey passed away without the 
 occurrence of anything unusual. On the third day he entered Saint 
 Mary's county. He stopped at a country inn to procure something to 
 eat, about noon. After he had finished his dinner, he sat on the gal- 
 lery smoking a cigar, and conversing with the landlord, whom he dis- 
 covered to be a Southern man. Suddenly the latter uttered an excla- 
 mation'of surprise, and gazed up the road in the direction from which 
 Mar.shall had come. Marshall gazed in the direction indicated by the 
 landlord, and saw a Federal officer followed by six dragoons, coming 
 down the road. 
 
 " It is too late to escape," he said, turning to the landlord. " We 
 must trick them. Go into the house, and if they ask you who I am, 
 say that I am a Government agent, and that I am awaiting an escort 
 of cavalry which I have sent down the road." 
 
 The landlord entered the housCj and JIarshall remained in his seat. 
 
The Aid-de Gamp. 71 
 
 rmoking with apparent indiffeience. The Yankee troops approached 
 rapidly and soon reached the inn. They dismounted and fa^sten-id 
 their horses, and entered the house. As they passed Marshall, he 
 nodded carclesely to them. They returned his salutation, and gaced 
 searchingly at him. 
 
 Approaching the ;andlord,'the officer asked sternly: 
 
 *< Who is that man in the porch ?" 
 
 "That man," said the landlord, laughing good humorcdly, "is the 
 •bitterest .Yankee that I ever saw. If you'll take my advice, gentlemen , 
 you'll let him alon?. He !s a Government agent, or something of the 
 kind, and has come down here to hunt up Secessionists. I heard him 
 talk pretty sharply to a Brigadier General who was here with him 
 about three hours ago. He sent him away somewhere, and is waiting 
 •for him now. I wouldn't be surprised if it's Mr. Seward himself." 
 
 " Oh, ho.!" said the officer, knowingly, " if that's the case, I'll stand 
 -around. I heard that there was a Secessionist here, and I came to 
 ■^atch him.'* 
 
 " No," said the landlord, " that gentleman and the General that he's 
 waiting for are all that ha^e been here to-day." 
 
 " Then I'll get back to camp," said the officer, and he left the room, 
 'followed by his men. As he passed out, he glanced respectfully at 
 .Marshall, who was sitting quietly smoking. He rose, and approaching 
 ■them, asked, with an appearance of interest: 
 
 " What is ihe matter, gentlemen? Is anything wrong ?" 
 
 "No, sir," replied the officer. "We heard that a Secessionist was 
 ■here, and we came after him." 
 
 " No one has been here sijiee !f arrived," said Marshall. " You were 
 .snisiaformed." 
 
 "I expeetso, sir," said the Lieutanant. "Good day, sir." 
 
 He left the porch, followed by his men. They mounted their horses 
 ;and set off rapidly. Maxshall watched them until they were out oi 
 •sight, and then turning to the landlord, asked, as he broke into a load 
 ^augh: 
 
 "Well, landlord, what do you think of that?" 
 
 " It was capital," said the host, whose fat sides shook with mirth. 
 " They are the greenest fools that I ever saw."* 
 
 Marshall bade adieu to the landlord, and continued his journey to- 
 wards the Potomac. He reached the river in good time and crossed 
 ■safely into Virginia. 
 
 *The incident related above happened to a friend of the author on his way 
 from Maryland to Virginia in 186). 
 
72 The Aid'de-Ca^np. 
 
 After Marolia.Il parted from Mary and her brother, they returnei 
 slowly and crossed the Long Bridge about daylight. Mr. and Mry. 
 Worthington were delighted with the success of Mary's scheme, and 
 the old gentleman, fondly kissing her, called her his little heroine. 
 The evening papers were filled with long accounts of the visit of Mar- 
 gaall's sister to him, and his escape from the Fort. The aflFair created 
 considerable excitement. Efforts were made to discover Mr. Hopkins 
 and the young lady, but they were unsuccessful. 
 
 About three weeks after this, Mr, Worthington was warned by a 
 friend that he would be arrested in a few days by the military authori- 
 ties. He left Baltimore with his family, and settled in St. Mary's 
 county^ Here he was so much annoyed by the enemy's troops that he 
 crossed over to Virginia, and moved to Richmond. 
 
A' 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FTEPi he readied Virginia, Marshall hastened to Richmond, and 
 r\ iniraediately made application for a commiasion. lie received it, 
 ■j.nd was ordered to report to General Johnston at Harper's Ferry. He 
 at once left Richmond, and soon reached that place. This was the first 
 of June. 
 
 A large force had been collected at Harper's Ferry, and placed under 
 the command of Colonel Thomas J. JacksoQ. On the 23rd of May 
 tJeneral Joseph E. Johnston, of the Confederate army, assumed com- 
 mand of the troops assembled there. 
 
 Marshall had never seen so large an army before, and the scene was 
 uovel and interesting. On the morning after his arrival he rose very 
 «^arly, and walked down to the Railroad Bridge, and pause* to survey 
 the scene. 
 
 On all sides of him the mountains rose high above him, and through 
 the pass, the Potomac rushed foaming and dashing over its rocky bed, 
 while the quiet " Daughter of the Stars," the romantic Shenandoah, 
 swept gracefully around from her home in the hills, to mingle her 
 peaceful waters with the angry torrent of the lordly Potomac, which 
 seemed to flow gentler and softer after the union. From the lofty 
 heights on the Maryland shore, the dark heavy guns frowned down 
 upon the little village, and the white tents of the army thickly dotted 
 the dark sides of the mountain on every hand. The drums were beat- 
 ing the reveille, and the camps were soon alive with human beings. 
 
 During the day Marshall had nothing to do,^ he crossed to the Mary- 
 land shore, and walked up the river some distance, happy to be ia 
 Maryland again. He was deeply imbued with a spirit of earnest piety, 
 und the scene around him impressed him powerfully with the majesty 
 and gloYy of its Creator. 
 
 It is difficult to conceive how any one can stand upon the shore of 
 the Potomac at Harper's Ferry, where the mountains are cleft in twain 
 by the mighty river as it foams and dashes over the rocks that seek to 
 impede its way, as if in its wrath it would sweep them from its path, 
 and hear the ceaseless roar of the torrent as it chaunts its sublime 
 hymn of praise to God, and see the grand old mountains lift. up thei? 
 heads to Heaven, everlasting witnesses of the majesty, the power and 
 
74. - The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 the goodness of the Almighty, without feeling his heart touehcd 4nd 
 subdued with reverential awe. Truly God manifests His glory every- 
 where in His works, but nowhere mere strikingly than at this place. 
 The scene may lack that calui beauty which so often captivates the eye, 
 but it is awful in its grandeur and terrible in it-s sublimity. 
 
 Marshall was deeply impressed by the scene. The impulse was 
 powerful, and he coald not resist it. He turned into a clump of bushes, 
 and falling on his knees, lifted up his soul in prayer. 
 
 As he rose from his knees the bushes parted, and a man stepped 
 from among them. lie was rather tall, and broadly and squarely built. 
 His hair was dark and short, and his beard and moustache were closely 
 trimmed. There wae a mild, but firm expression upon his face, and 
 his eyes shone with a calm and tranquil light. He was dressed in a 
 g)lain gray uniform, and the three stars upon his coat collar told that he 
 held the rank of Colonel in the Confederate army. He was a man that 
 one would trust at a glance. One felt from the moment that he saw 
 him that he was of iron will and great genius. He advanced to Mar- 
 shall, and with a smile, whose "wondrous aweetness none could resist, 
 held out h* hand to him. 
 
 *' Pardon me for intruding upon you, sir," he said in a tone of kindly 
 . interest, "this is a eight so rarely witnessed here, that I cannot help 
 commending it whenever I see it. My name is Jackson, and I am 
 very glad to meet you. May I ask your name ?" 
 
 Marshall took his hand, and told him his name. He gazed at him 
 with interest. Colonel Jackson was. already well known to the public, 
 and Marshall felt that he was yet to be one of the master spirits of the 
 war. 
 
 Colonel Jackson was going to Harper's Ferry, and asked him to. 
 accompany him. He questioned him in regard to his position in the 
 army. 
 
 " I have not been assigned to any regular duty," said Marshall, "and 
 am now awaiting orders." 
 
 " If you do not object," said Colonel Jackson, " I will ask General 
 Johnston to let me have you as an Aid. I am cemmanding the first 
 Brigade of this army, and I shall need you." 
 
 Marshall replied that he would be very glad indeed if such an 
 arrangement could Be made. When they reached Harper's Ferry, 
 ■Colonel Jackson paused, and grasping Marshall's hand, said to him 
 earnestly : 
 
 " I was very much gratified by whtft I saw of you to-day. Continue 
 in the good path you have chosen. Believe me, sir, there is nothing 
 r.obler than a Christian soldier. We see too few of them in the army. 
 
The Aid-de-Oamp. 75 
 
 We cannot expect God's blessing to rest upon us, if we are forgetful of 
 Him. Continue- to pray, and you will alw^^ys bo successful." 
 
 He turned away and walked towards General Johnston's head- 
 quarters, and Marshall repaired to his tent, to muse over his singular 
 interview. The nest day Colonel Jackson sent for hin:, and told him 
 that General Johnston had assigned him to duty on his staff. Marshall 
 immediately entered upon his duties, and discharged them with ability 
 and faithfulness. Colonel Jackson was always kind and ready to render 
 him any service; but he was silent and reserved in his manner towards 
 him, as he was to cv«ry one else. On the day that he became acquainted 
 with Marshall, he was surpris!«fd and»drawn out of himself by his admi- 
 ration for the young man's conduct. Now he sank back into his 
 habitual reserve. But this did not mar the natural kindness of his 
 character. A kinder, truer gentleman, a more sincere and humble 
 Christian never lived. Modest and retiring as a girl, brave as a lion 
 in battle, generous to a fault, is it a wonder that his troops love him? 
 Is it strange that they shout for joy until the Heavens ring, whenever 
 they see the old worn cap, and the faded, gray uniform appear? But 
 why write thus ? Why attempt to eulogize Jackson ? He needs none 
 of this. He has written his name in every Southern soldier's heart. 
 
 Time passed away. On the night of the 13th of June, Colonel 
 Jackson informed Marshall that General Johnston had determined to 
 evacuate Harper's Ferry. 
 
 " Have everything in readiness to leave at a moment's warning," he 
 added. 
 
 On the next day preparations for the evacuation were begun. The 
 heavy guns that could not be removed were rendered unfit for service, 
 and rolled into the river. The splendid railroad bridge was blown up, 
 and the public buildings set on fire. The flames rose rapidly, and 
 were soon hissing and roaring around the tall structures. It was a 
 grand scene. The heat in the village was so intense that the troops 
 could with difficulty perform the work of removing the stores. Thus 
 the day passed away, and at last all was ready. On the 15th of June 
 the army left Harper's Ferry, and marched towards Winchester. On 
 the evening of the same day they encamped about a mile beyond 
 Charlestown. 
 
 The town of Harper's Ferry was built upon a neck of land at the 
 confluence of the Potomac and Shenandoah rivens. It was capable, at 
 tte time of its occupation by General Johnston, of a successful defence 
 against any force which the enemy could bring against it. But it might 
 be easily converted into a disadvantage to the South. The enemy's 
 troops might invest it at any moment, hold its garrison in check, and 
 
7i-» The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 command the "Valley, or attack General Beauregard in the rear at the 
 Manassas Junction. A strong column of Federal troops, under Major 
 ileneral Patterson, was advancing through Maryland, and General 
 Johnston had held Harper's Ferry, only that he might draw them into 
 Virginia. As soon as this object was accomplished, he evacuated the 
 place and moved towards Winchester. 
 
 On the morning after he encamped at Charlestown, he heard that 
 the enemy's advanced brigade, under General Gadwallader, had crossed 
 the Potomac at Williamsport, and was advancing upon Martinsburg. 
 General Johnston immediately wheeled his army to the right, and 
 marched north towards Martinsbutg. It now became known among' 
 the troops that they were advancing to meet the enemy, and they 
 broke into loud aad enthusiastic cheers. The men were raw and unused 
 to the fatigues of a march, but they bore them with patience, and 
 pushed forward cheerfully, urged ou by the prospect of a speedy 
 engagement with the hated foe. 
 
 General Gadwallader had crossed the Potomac and was advancing 
 into Virginia, as he supposed, to pursue a flying foe, for he had heard 
 of the evacutation of Harper's Ferry. He had scarcely entered Vir- 
 ginia, when he was informed that General Johnston, whom he supposed 
 to be retreating, was advancing to meet him. For a moment the Yan- 
 kee General was completely nonplussed. Then thinking diseretion the 
 better part of valor, he re-crossed the Potomac; and retreated into 
 Maryland, and did not pause until he reached the main body of Patter- 
 Km's army at Hagerstown. 
 
 As soon as General Johnston heard of Cadwallader's retreat, he 
 halted his troops. Then sending Colonel Jackson's Brigade towards 
 Martinsburg, to watch Patterson, and a detachment of his forces, under 
 Colonel A. P. Hill, to occupy Ptomney and watch McClellan, who was 
 then in Western Virginia, and who he feared might attempt to form a 
 junction with Patterson, General Johnston marched to Winchester, 
 
 While engaged in watching Patterson, Colonel Jackson inflicted 
 great damage upon the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. 
 
 On the 3rd of July General Patterson crossed the Potomac and 
 advanced towards Martinsburg. Colonel Jackson broke up his camp 
 near Martinsburg, and marched to meet him. 
 
 Arriving near Falling Waters, he found the enemy drawn up in line 
 of battle. He detached from his command the Augusta regiment^ 
 (Colonel Harper's) and one six pounder from Pendleton's Battery, in 
 all not quite four hundred men, and advanced towards the enemy. 
 
 The Federals consisted of General .Cad\vallader's Brigade, about 
 3,000 strong, and a fine battery of artillery. They held a fine position, 
 
The*Aid-de'Ca77ip. ' ' 77 
 
 and it seemed that they would completely envelope the little band ([..A. 
 advanced so fenrloHply to meet them. Their skirxniehers wore thrown 
 out in front of thcra, and aa Jackson's men came up, opened a rapid 
 fire upon them. ITastily advancing his skirmishers Colonel Jackso.-i 
 ordered" th^m to open fire upon the enemy. This thej did with spirit, 
 compelling the Federal marksmen to retire in confusion to their maiii 
 line. The Confederate infantry weve the hardy mountaineers ol" 
 Augusta, whose hands had jrrasped the rifle almost from infancy, atirl 
 their fire was terribly destructive. The one six pounder gun tore grear. 
 gaps in the Federal ranks. During the action, Colonel Jackfion^cnt. 
 Marshall-to Captain Pendleton with orders to fire at a certain point 
 He delivered the order and remained at the battery to watch the efTcc;. 
 of the e:hot. Captain Pendleton stood grimly by his piece, end lighted 
 it in the direction indicated. 
 
 " Ready," he e^jclaimed, and the order was obeyed. Then raisin'^ 
 his eyes to Heaven, he cried earnestly, "May the Lord have mercy 
 upon their poor souls. Fire." 
 
 A flash and a roftr followed this singular command, and tho shpll 
 tore fatally through the Federal rank?. The gun was loaded again. 
 and the same prayer and the same command uttered. 
 
 Marshall could not help .smiling at this singular exhibition of ski-1 
 and pity. Soon after this he was sent to the front with orders to th^- 
 skirmisher'. As he pas93d along the line, he glanced at the enemv. 
 At this moment an officer, evidently an Aid, rode down to the Federal 
 skirmishers. There was something very familiar in his appearance, and 
 •as he ■was not far ofi^, Marshall raised his glass and looked at him. H(^ 
 recognised him at once. It was Captain Cameron. He hurried dow!i 
 to the line of skirmishers and delivered his orders. Then approaching: 
 one of the men, he asked him to lend him his rifle. The man hand' -1 
 it to him, and Marshall dismounted, 
 
 " Now,' said he to the man, " if you will hold my hcrse fora miant'S 
 I will try to bring down one Yankee at least." 
 
 "All right, sir," said the man, grasping the bridle. " But who do 
 you want to shoot ?" 
 
 " That officer," replied Marshall, pointing to Cameron. " He is an 
 old acquaintance." 
 
 The man laughed, and MarehaU raised the rifle to hie shoulder, and 
 took deliberate aim at Cameron, who was now sitting on hie horae gazing 
 through h:3 glass at the Confederate lines. Marshall was an escolkr.t 
 :aiarksm3n, and he aimed his rifle slowly and carefully. The distar.'?-- 
 was not very grent. Ho pres.sod the trigger, and in an instant C:inierc-i 
 threw up hi.s arms and fell heavily from his horee. 
 
T8' • The Aid de-Camp. 
 
 *' Good I" shouted the owner of the rifle. '^ I knew old Joe wotlld 
 reach him. By Geor^je, Lieutenant, that's the best shot I ever saw. I 
 believe you have killed him.*' 
 
 As soon as he had fired, Marshall lowered his rifle, and raised hio 
 glass to his eyes. He could eee the men crowd around Cameron, and 
 raise him from the ground, and carry him to the rear. 
 
 " No," he said, as ht closed his glass, and placed it in the case. " I 
 saw him place his hand to his breast. He i3 only wounded." 
 
 Thanking the man lor the use of his rifle, Marshall mounted hia 
 horse, and returned to Colonel Jackson. 
 
 The fight continued ibr nearly an hour longer. Finally, the enemy 
 making an attempt to outflank him, Colonel Jackson withdrew hia 
 troops, and retired in the direction of Martinsburg. He had held in 
 check for nearly two houra a force greatly superior to his own, and as 
 he nov/ withdrew, the enemy made no attempt to follow him. He con- 
 tined hia retreat until he reached Darksville, a little village about five 
 or sis miles south of M:irtinsburg. On the same evening he was joined 
 by General Johnston, who had advanced from Winchester with the 
 main body of the amy. 
 
 The report of Marshall's esploit cpread rapidly through the army, 
 and whenever he passed them, the men pointed to him and said : 
 
 " There goes the man that made that good shot with Alick Gray's 
 rifle." 
 
 On Wednesday, July 5th, General Patterson's army, twenty thou- 
 sand strong, entered Martinsburg. 
 
 General Johnston disposed his troops in order of battle, and 
 awaited the advance of the enemy. But General Patterson was in no 
 hurry to meet him. lie preferred remaining at a safe distance. General 
 Johnston waited four days for him, and then finding that the latter did 
 not intend meeting him, retired to Winchester. 
 
 At first the troops thought that they were running from the enemy 
 and refused to march, and it required all the persuasive eloquence of 
 General Johnston to induce them to- fall back. They did so sullenly 
 and discontentedly, not dreaming how soon their great Commander would 
 lead them to immortal glory. 
 
 During the march the men suffered very much. While advancing 
 to meet the enemy, they had not complained, but now when they had 
 no such excitement to encourage them, they flagged and straggled 
 very much. • 
 
 On the first day of the march Marshall was riding near the Augusta 
 regiment, when he hea.rd some one exclaim : 
 
 " I say, Lieutenuuti" ' . 
 
The Aid-de-Cmwp. TO* 
 
 He looted around and saw the man whose rifle he had used at Fall- 
 ing Waters. He checked his horse and rode by him. 
 
 "I say, Lieutenant,*' continued the man. "We are not running 
 away from the Yankees; are we?" 
 
 " Oh, no !" said Marshall, smiling, " General Johnston has laid s 
 trap for them, and he i3 now trying to draw them into it. Take him 
 at his word, and wait. You'll have fighting enough before this month: 
 is out." 
 
 " I'm mighty glad to hear you sayj^at," said the man, his counte-- 
 nance, as well as those of the men who heard the conversation, bright' 
 ening. " We'd rather die than run. 'Twouldn't do for us to go back 
 to Augusta, and say that we ran away from the Yankees. The gals- 
 wouldn't notice us." 
 
 Marshall laughed, and replied J 
 
 " You need not fear. The girls will be proud of you yet." 
 
 " All right, sir," cried a score of voices. " We see how it is now- 
 Old Joe Johnston knows what he's up to." 
 
 This conversation, unimportant as it may seem, had a woaderfui 
 effect upon the men. It was repeated throughout the brigade with 
 numerous additions and embellishments. It inspired fresh confidence 
 in the Commanding General, and the troops pushed on with mors cheer- 
 fulness than before. At last Winchester was reached, and the army 
 encamped around the town. 
 
 In a day or two Colonel Jackgon received an appointment as Briga- 
 dier General, as a reward for his services, and especially his conduct at 
 Falling Waters. Marshall was continued as an Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 I must now pass rapidly over events. On the 15th of Jul}', Colonel 
 Stuart, commanding the cavalry of the army of the Shenandoah, 
 reported the advance of the enemy from Martinsburg. General 
 Johnston prepared to receive them, if they made their appearance j 
 but General Patterson halted at Bunker Hill, nine miles distant. On 
 17th of July he suddenly m.oved to the left and occupied Smithfield. 
 The Federal army now held a position which would enable it oither to 
 attack Winchester or to hold General Johnston in check, and prevent 
 him from going to the relief of General Beauregard at Manassas 
 Junction. 
 
 On the morning of the 18th of July, General Johnston was in- 
 formed that the enemy were advancing upon Manassas from Alexandria, 
 and he at once resolved to go to the assistance of General Beauregard. 
 He had for some time understood the plans of the enemy, and had re- 
 solved upon his own course. His eagle eye had penetrated the secrets 
 
80 The Aid-de-Camp.' 
 
 oT the Fedcra] comisa-ndeTS, ann his fertile genius had prepared a plar. 
 for their destruction. 
 
 Leaving his sick at "Winchester, he set out. ' Evading Patterson b^ 
 'Jie disposition of his cavalry, he passed through the Blue Ridge at- 
 Ai=hbj's Gap, and mcved towards Piedmont. The lii arch was painful, 
 ind was performed under a burning July sun. The men suffered fear 
 Ailly from the heat, and for want of wat«r and provisions. They would 
 oven drink -ihe muddy water from the ruts in the road. When they 
 reached the Shenandoah they were heated and weary. But no tinn^' 
 wa3 to be lost, and they plunged in and forded the stream. 
 
 At last they reached Piedmont. Here the infantry were embarkrd 
 on o.ars, and the artillery and cavalry ordered to continue the march 
 Jackson's, Bee's, and Bartow's Brigades were sent i-n advance. 
 
 While they are on the way, let me glance at Manassas, and the army 
 there. 
 
 General Beauregard had not heen idle. Naturally his position was 
 one of great strength. About half way between the eastern spur of 
 the Blue Ridge and the Potom.ac, below Alexandria, it commanded 
 the whole country between so perfectly, that there was scarcely any 
 possibility of its being turned. The right wing stretched off toward? 
 the Ocquaquon River, through a wooded country, which was made im- 
 passable by the felling of trees. To the left was a rolling table land. 
 easily commanded from its successive elevations, until it reached un 
 exceedingly rough and rugged country. The key to the whole poBi'- 
 tlon was the point which General Beauregard chose for his centra. 
 This point he fortified .so strongly that a small force was capable ci" 
 holding it against one of much greater size. Nature herself had partly 
 fortified it. It was a succession of hills, nearly cqui-distant from each 
 other. In front was a r.avine, so deep, a'nd so thickly wooded that it 
 was icTipassable, save at two or three gorges, which a small force migh!, 
 defend against an army. To thosae natural advantages. General Beau 
 regard had added every means of defence which his genius could de- 
 vise, or his experience could suggest. Works had heen erected at 
 Manasgas Junction, and other points, and a small, but heroic army rd- 
 iected under his commnnd. 
 
 The enemy advanced from Alexandria, and halted at Centreville. 
 By a brilliant retreat, General Beauregard withdrew his advanced 
 troops within the lines of Bull Run, and led the enemy on to his posi- 
 tion. On the 18th of July the enemy attempted to force a passage of 
 Bull Run, at Blackburn's Ford, on the Confederate right, but were 
 defeated with a heavy loBS. As the battle of Bull Run is not -Jon- 
 inectcd with this narration it will not b? described here. 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 81 
 
 The 19th of July was spent in burying the dead, who had fallen 
 the day before. 
 
 General Johnston reached Manassas on the 20th of July, with Jack- 
 son's, Bee's and Bartow's Brigades. 
 
 That night, about eleven o'clock, Marshall was sent with a message 
 to General Beauregard's headquarters. He found Generals Beauregard 
 and Johnston in close consultation. General Beauregard recognized 
 him, and shook hands with him, warmly : 
 
 "I am very glad to see you, Mr. Marshall, he said cordially. Then 
 turning to General Johnston, he continued, " General, allow me to 
 present to you Lieutenant Marshall, who was one of my Aids at Sum- 
 ter, but who is now under your command." 
 
 General Johnston greeted the young man kindly, and asked him to 
 what part of the army he belonged. 
 
 " I am an Aid to General Jackson," replied Marshall. 
 
 " Oh, yes," said General Johnston, " you are the man that sho'fc Cad- 
 wallader's Aid at Falling Waters." 
 
 Then turning to General Beauregard, be related the incident to blm. 
 
 "General," said Beauregard, addressing Johnston, "Evans has sent 
 to me, asking for an officer to act as an Aid for him. From present 
 appearances, I believe there will be warm work to-morrow, and a fine 
 chance for distinction and promotion. If you and General Jackson 
 are willing, and Lieutenant Marshall does not object, we will transfer 
 him, for the occasion, to Evans. I want to give him a chance to 
 show what he is made of. We'll give Jackson some one else for to- 
 morrow. 
 
 General Johnston expressed his approval of General Beauregard's 
 proposition, and the latter directed Marshall to obtain General Jack- 
 eon's consent to the arrangement, and report to Colonel Evans at the 
 Stone Bridge. He did as ordered, sind being successful, rode ovei to 
 the Stone Bridge and reported to Col. Evans. This was about twelve 
 o'clock. 
 
 He found Col. Evans' little force lying upon their arms, resting cisd 
 waiting the coming of the morn that was to usher in such scenes of 
 strife. The moon was still in the Heavens, casting her mellow light 
 over every object. Through the broken and undulating country, which 
 was thickly wooded with clumps of trees, the narrow line of Bull Ean 
 swept gracefully on its way, its waters flashing like polished steel Jn 
 the clear, cool moonlight. As far as his eye could reach, MarsbaJl 
 could see the gleam of musket and bayonet, telling that the brave 8e 
 fenders of the South were ready for the fray. To the rear, and a little 
 to the right rose the gleam of the SotitbeTn camp fires. All was silent, 
 6 
 
82 The Aid-de-Camp, 
 
 save the rippling of the waters, and the hoarse challenges of the sen- 
 tinels, as they paced their watchful rounds. Beyond the Kun, the 
 dark masses of woods rose sternly and solemnly to the view, with a 
 dreadful and foreboding aspect. Above them the Heavens were lit up 
 by a dull, red glare, which revealed the locality of the hostile army. 
 Occasionally the deep boom of a distant gun broke upon the air, and 
 then all was silent again. 
 
 Marshall gazed around him with feelings of awe and interest. No 
 scene is more striking and awe-inspiring than an army resting in the 
 silence of the night, on the eve of a great battle. Marshall could not 
 sleep. lie walked slowly to and fro, in the clear moonlight, thinking 
 of what might be the result of the next day's battle. He trembled 
 when he reflected what tremendous interests were staked upon it. The 
 fate of the nation might be decided by the struggle. In that solemn 
 hour he felt how weak are all human arms, and his thoughts turned to 
 the God of battles, whose arm is ever lifted in behalf of the cause of 
 right and justice. He paused in his walk, and kneeling upon the 
 green sward, he bared his head and prayed. It was a touching and 
 beautiful scene. One single man kneeling amid the armed hosts of 
 Freedom, in the face of a powerful foe, with the moonbeams falling 
 aoftly around his calm, upturned features, praying, in silence and alone, 
 that the Lord Jehovah would go forth with the army to battle. And 
 while he knelt there, far off, nearly at the opposite wing of the South- 
 ern lines, a man of noble stature and a lion heart, prayed for the same 
 cause, and asked for that strength which on the red field of the mor- 
 row enabled him to stand " like a stonewall" in the path of the foe. 
 Methinks that as those prayers rose softly upon the night breeze and 
 entered the jasper portals of Heaven, a. burst of angelic music gushed 
 from the lyres of the Heavenly harpers, and the Angel legions of the 
 King Eternal shouted for joy as they bared their protecting arms to 
 strike for the freedom of an outraged land. Ah ! who can tell how 
 greatly the fate of the battle was decided by those two prayers ? 
 
 When he had finished praying, Marshall rose, calm and strength- 
 ened, and walked over to where Colonel Evans and Major Wheat were 
 fitanding by a camp fire reading an order. 
 
 *' General Beauregard informs me," said the Colonel, turning to 
 Marshall, " that the enemy will attack my position. So we shall have 
 warm work to-morrow, Mr. Marshall. But excuse me," he added 
 suddenly, " Let me make you acquainted with Major Wheat^ Lieu- 
 tenant Marshall." 
 The two gentlemen shook hands, warmlyj 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 8g 
 
 '• By your name, I take you to be a brother Virginian, Lieutenant," 
 Maid Major Wheat. 
 
 '• Though I have been but a truant son, lam proud of the old State, 
 and love her dearly. I am always glad to meet with any of her chil- 
 dren." 
 
 Wheat was a large, splendid looking man, with a frank, open face, 
 and chivalrous bearing. His romantic and eventful life had left its 
 traces upon him. There was about him an air of manly generosity 
 ,wLich at once won him friends. A kinder or a more chivalric nature 
 was never given to any man than to Roberdeau Chatham Wheat. 
 Kind friend, generous foe, may the (urf rest lightly upon him. Let 
 us deal gently with his faulLs. He loved his country; he died for her. 
 Toace to his ashes. 
 
 Colonel Evans was a hearty, bluff looking man — every inch a sol- 
 dier. His manner was sudden and abrupt, but he was warm and ge- 
 nial in his disposition. His keen eye grasped everything at once, and 
 his fertile brain instantly devised some plan, which ever carried* de- 
 struction and terror to the foe. 
 
 The officers continued to converse around the camp fire, and the 
 night wore away. The moon went down and the darkness gathered 
 thickly over all. Then the gray light of dawn broke the gloom in the 
 East. Instantly the music of the reveille sounded along the lines, and 
 then was heard the sharp rattle of the drums as they beat the long 
 roil. It is a thrilling sound, that long roll, on the morning of a battle. 
 How the heart beats and the breast thrills as it rings along the lines, 
 ■uramoning some to glory and some to the grave. 
 
 Marshall listened to it with eager interest. Major Wheat noticed 
 this, and smiled quietly. 
 
 "The long roll seems to interest you, Mr. Marshall," he said. 
 " Wait a few hours and you will hear more thrilling music than that. 
 There is nothing that sounds so sweet to my ears as the roar of the 
 guns." 
 
 He had heard it often under many a foreign sky. Poor fellow ! it 
 was the last earthly sound that fell upon his ears. 
 
 Soon the gloom broke away, and the sun of Manassas rose slowly in 
 the Heavens. A (eif minutes after sunrise a wreath of white smoke 
 rose from the woods opposite the Stone Bridge, and the heavy report 
 of a cannon broke the stillness of the morning, 
 
 "That is their opening salute," said Major Wheat, his eyes bright, 
 eoing. 
 
 Col. Evans was watching the woods in front of his position. Sad 
 
84 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 denly a lonf* line of skirmishers emerged from the trees, and advanced 
 towards the Run. 
 
 " Major," said the Colonel, turning to Wheat, " throw forward one 
 of your companies to hold these rascals in check. And you, Mr. Mar- 
 shall," he added, addressing the young man, " tell Colonel Sloan to ad- 
 vance two companies of his regiment, to assist Major Wheat's men." 
 
 Marshall and Major Wheat moved off rapidly in different directions. 
 As they did so, a Federal battery was advanced from the woods and a 
 rapid fire opened upon the Confederates. At the same time the 
 enemy's skirmishers advanced to the Run, and began a vigorous fire of 
 small arms. 
 
 Marshall delivered his orders to Colonel Sloan, whose men were ad- 
 vanced simultaneously with Major Wheat's. They replied with spirit 
 to the fire of the enemy, and held them in check. 
 
 As soon as the cannonade was begun at the Stone Bridge, it was 
 takea up by the various Federal batteries along the line of Bull Run. 
 The heaviest cannonade was directed against the Confederate centre 
 and the right wing. The enemy wished to create the impression that 
 those points would be most vigorously assailed. But watchful eyes 
 were upon them, and master minds were prepared to thwart their move- 
 ments. 
 
 The skirmishing at the Stone Bridge continued actively. About 
 eight o'clock Col. Evans said to Marshall : 
 
 " Go to Colonel Sloan and tell him to leave four of Jiis companies 
 to hold the enemy in check, to draw off the rest quietly, and report 
 to me here. Tell Major Wheat to draw in all of his men, form behind 
 Colonel Sloan, and report to me here. Then ride to Gen. Cocke and 
 tell him that I am convinced that the attack on my present front is 
 only to deceive me, and that the real plan of the enemy is to attempt 
 to turn my left flank, somewhere above here. Tell him that I have 
 left a small force to check the Yankee skirmishers. I intend drawing 
 off the rest of my men, and occupying a new position between the 
 Carter house and the Brentsville road. When you have delivered 
 these messages rejoin me at once. I shall need you." 
 
 Marshall delivered the orders to Colonel Sloan and Major Wheat, 
 and then rode off to find General Cocke. He soon found him, and 
 communicated to him the message with which he had been charged. 
 
 " Tell Colonel ETans," said the General, " that I approve his course, 
 and will immediately inform General Beauregard of it. Tell him, 
 also, that he is expected to defend his new position to the last ex- 
 tremity." 
 
 Marshall bowed and rode off. He hastened with all speed to rejoin 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 86 
 
 Colonel Evans, whom he found at the point to which he had removed. 
 When ho came up with him, he found the troops drawn up in line of 
 battle. The left rested on the main (IJrentsville) road, and was com- 
 posed of the 4th South Carolina (Sloan's) Kegiment, with one of La- 
 tham's guns posted on an eminence in its rear. 
 
 On the right Wheat's men were thrown forward, a little in advance 
 of the 4th South Carolina, and Latham's other gun was in position on 
 some high ground behind them. A copse of woods separated the two 
 wings. 
 
 Colonel Evans was holding a consultation with Colonel Sloan and 
 Major Wheat when Marshall arrived. 
 
 " We have chosen this position, and have determined to hold it, 
 Mr. Marshall," he said, when he had heard General Cocke's message. 
 
 " They seem to be having a lively time on the right," said Colonel 
 iSloan, as he listened to the thunder of the guns in the direction of 
 Union Mills. 
 
 " That is only to deceive us," said Colonel Evans, calmly. " They 
 will be here upon us in a short time." 
 
 Major Wheat sprang from his horse, and placing his ear to the 
 ground, listened eagerly. 
 
 " What are you doing, Major ?" asked Marshall. 
 
 Wheat did not reply, but continued to listen. • Soon he rose, and 
 turning to Colonel Evans, said, hurriedly : 
 
 " They are not far off, Colonel ; and they are coming in large num- 
 bers." 
 
 Then addressing Marshall, he continued : " I was listening for the 
 tramp of the enemy when you spoke. My ear rarely deceives me. I 
 learned this from the Indians. W'e shall have warm work presently." 
 
 " To your posts, then, gentlemen," said Colonel Evans, as he extended 
 his hand to eacji of them. " Remember, we must fall here, before we 
 yield the position. We shall be reinforced presently. Farewell ! and 
 God speed you, gentlemen " 
 
 The two officers hastened to rejoin their commands. Marshall re- 
 mained with Colonel Evans. 
 
 Major Wheat was right. The enemy were advancing along the 
 road upon which Colonel Evans had taken his position. Having deter- 
 mined to turn the Confederate left flank. General McDowell had massed 
 his troops in the woods around Centreville, on the night of 20th of 
 July, On the next morning he moved forward two heavy columns, 
 numbering in all sixteen thousand men, with more than twenty-four 
 pieces of artillery. They moved by a road seldom used, and, making 
 a long detour through the woods, reached the Sudley road, and crossed 
 
86 TU Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 Bull Kun at the Sudlcy Ford, two miles above the Stone Bridge. To 
 oppose this immense force, Colonel Evans could muster only nine hun- 
 dred men and two small six pounders. 
 
 While the enemy are advancing, let us glance at a scene in another 
 portion of the field. 
 
 At half past eight o'clock, Generals Johnston and Beauregard, ac- 
 companied by their Aides, dashed to the summit of a hill, overlooking 
 Mitchell's Ford, from which they could observe the movements below 
 them. 
 
 The day was bright and beautiful, scarcely a cloud obscuring the 
 blue sky above. Far below the Southern Generals lay the plains which 
 were in a few hours to be made glorious by a struggle fiercer than had 
 ever been witnessed before in the New World. To the right lay the 
 long dark lines of entrenchments, with their bristling guns, which had, 
 as yet, given no reply to the deep mouthed thunder of the Federal 
 cannon lying opposite them. Far away to the left stretched the broken 
 and uneven ground occupied by the dauntless brigades of Evans and 
 Cocke. Between the two armies wound the glittering line of Bull 
 Run, with its wavelets dancing merrily in the sunlight. Beyond the 
 Run heavy clouds of smoke hung over the left wing of the Federal 
 army, hiding the hostile guns which hurled a storm of iron missiles 
 upon the Confederate right and centre. To the right, the thick woods 
 and undulating ground concealed that portion of their army from 
 view. 
 
 With faces pale with stern resolve, and hearts fixed upon the Al- 
 mighty God of Battles, the commanders of the little army of the 
 South watched the scene before them. Shortly after nine o'clock 
 heavy clouds of dust were seen rising in the distance, towards the 
 North East. The enemy were approaching the left wing. Reinforce- 
 ments were at once ordered to that point. 
 
 When General Johnston reached Manassas, it was known to General 
 Beauregard that the enemy intended attacking him the next day. 
 The position being too complicated to be learned in the short time at 
 his disposal. General Johnston resolved to rely upon General Beaure- 
 gard's knowledge of it, and to give his sanction to the plans of that 
 officer. General Beauregard felt assured that the failure of the enemy 
 to eflfect a passage of the Run at Blackburn's Ford on the 18th would 
 prevent them from attempting to force his right wing; that the strength 
 of his centre would render it safe ; and that the real plan of the enemy 
 would be to endeavor to turn his left flank at or above the Stone 
 Bridge. In order to relieve his left, he proposed to advance his right 
 wing ani attack tthc enemy, while the left stood on the defensive. 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. §7 
 
 This plan having received the sanction of General Johnston, orders 
 were at once issued to carry it into effdct. Thus matters stood when 
 the advance of the enemy upon Evans' position was reported. 
 
 The day wore on and the Confederate Commanders anxiously awaited 
 the attack of the enemy. Soon the booming of artillery and the sharp 
 rattle of musketry told that the battle had begun upon the left. The 
 designs of the enemy were now revealed. Soon afterwards General 
 Beauregard was informed, that in consequence of the non-receipt of 
 his orders by the brigade commanders on the right, his plan of battle 
 had failed. He recalled the orders sent, and with General Johnston 
 resolved to accept the battle as the enemy should offer it. Thus the 
 battle was fought by them upon a plan forced upon them by the exi- 
 gencies of the occasion, and which clearly demonstrated their right to 
 their proud titles. Ordering fresh troops to be hurried forward to the 
 scene of action, Generals Johnston and Beauregard at once set out for 
 that point. 
 
 I must now return to Evans. 
 
 At a quarter to ten o'clock, & brigade of the Federal army appeared 
 in front of Wheat's position, and only five hundred yards from it. 
 This was Burnside's Brigade, in which was the celebrated 2nd Rhode 
 Island Regiment, with its battery of six thirteen pounder rifle gune. 
 Skirmishers were thrown forward, and the engagement opened. Wheat's 
 two companies and the solitary sis pounder kept up a vigorous and 
 effective fire. 
 
 Just as the firing began, an Aid dashed furiously to Colonel Evans. 
 His horse was covered with foam, and hia clothes were thick with dust. 
 He had ridden all the way from General Beauregard's headquarters at 
 full speed. As he reached Colonel Evans, he reined in his horse. 
 
 " Colonel," he cried, hurriedly, " if you can hold your ground for an 
 hour, you will be reinforced. General Bee is on his way to join you. 
 I am going to hasten him." 
 
 Wheeling his horse, he was off with the speed with which he came. 
 
 " By Heavens I" cried Evans, as he gazed admiringly towards the 
 position of the gallant Louisianians, whose deadly rifles were playing 
 havoc among the Federal ranks, and whose "Tiger" yells were 
 rising proudly on the air ; "Wheat's men are heroes. Go to Colonel 
 Sloan, Mr. Marshall, and order him to advance his men through the 
 woods to Major Wheat's support. The six pounder must follow him." 
 
 Marshall hastened to the lefl and delivered the order. The men 
 were awaiting impatiently, and as Colonel Sloan gave the order to 
 advance, dashed thrash the woods with a cheer, and were soon at 
 
88 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 tKeir new position. The firing now grew more rapid, for the battle had 
 fairly begun. 
 
 It was a desperate struggle. Only eight companies of infantry and 
 two pieces of artillery opposed to an entire brigade, and eight guns. 
 But in spite of the fearful odds against them, there was no faltering 
 among the little band of Southerners. Each man seemed inspired into a 
 hero, and they fought with a firmness almost superhuman. History 
 will cherish, and future ages honor the memories ot that noble band 
 w^o fought the first hour of Manassas. 
 
 Colonel Evans went everywhere, animating and urging on his men 
 by his personal example. 
 
 During the engagement, Marshall was sent to tha front with an or- 
 clir. On his return, he saw several of " the Tiger i3attahon" carrying 
 some one from the field. He sprang from his horse and approached 
 tliem. It was Major Wheat. He had been severely wounded, but 
 not fatally, and was being carried from the field. 
 
 '•' Gently boys, gently," murmured the gallant soldier, faintly. 
 
 " Major, are you badly hurt?" asked Marshall, pressing to his side. 
 
 Wheat opened his eyes and recognized him. 
 
 " Very badly, I fear. Lieutenant," he said, faintly. 
 
 Then his eyes flashed, and raising his head, he exclaimed, with a 
 feverish energy : 
 
 " Go, tell the boys to do their duty. Tell them they must not dis- 
 grace me." 
 
 " I will, sir," said Marshall, as he turned to go away. 
 
 '•' Thanks," murmured the Major, and he sank back exhausted. He 
 had performed prodigies of valor, and had handled his men most skil- 
 fully, when he fell, shot through and through the body by a rifle ball- 
 His wound was terrible, but, fortunately for his country, not fatal. 
 
 Marshall hastened back to the right. He rode fearlessly into the 
 line of fire, and raising himself in his stiriups, shouted : 
 
 " Men, Major Wheat has fallen. He has sent me here to tell you to 
 do your duty. He says you must not disgrace him." 
 
 The message was passed from man to man, and then there arose 
 from the little band a yell of fury that chilled the young man's blood 
 as he listened to it. Inspired by a stern determination to avenge the 
 fate of their gallant commander, the men fought with a desperation 
 that amazed and terrified their foes. 
 
 Marshall returned to Colonel Evans. 
 
 " Colonel," he exclaimed, as he reached him, " Major Wheat has 
 &llen. He has been badly woundtd." 
 
 " Poor fellow/' exclaimed Evans, an expression of sorrow over- 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 89 
 
 clouding his fine features. Then he asked, anxiously, " Do his men 
 know it?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Marshall. They seem maddened to desperation 
 by it. 
 
 " Good," exclaimed the Colonel. " Mr. Marshall," he added, calmly, 
 " "We shall be annihilated or driven back in half an hour. It is now 
 a quarter to eleven, and we cannot stand this much longer. If Bee 
 does not come up very soon, we shall be ruined. "We can die here, 
 but we cannot hold this position half an hour longer." 
 
 He had scarcely spoken when a tremendous cheer broke from the 
 woods on his right ; and a heavy fire was opened upon the Federal 
 lines. 
 
 " Good," shouted Colonel Evans, enthusiastically. '' Bee has come 
 up, and we shall beat them yet." 
 
 At this moment an Aid rode up and informed Colonel Evans that 
 General Bee had arrived, and^xplained to him the position of his 
 troops. 
 
 Bee brought with him men worthy of aiding the almost exhausted 
 heroes of the first hour of Manassas. With him came the 4th Ala- 
 bama, the 2nd, and a portion of the 11th Mississippi regiments, these 
 forming his own brigade, and the 7th and 8th Georgia, composing 
 Colonel Bartow's brigade, and Imboden's light battery. 
 
 With, the eye of a veteran he at once selected his position and 
 brought his troops into action. Now the battle raged with fury. The 
 burning July sun poured down fiercely upon them, but the dense 
 wreaths of smoke darkened his light, and the earth shook under the 
 heavy volleys of musketry and cannon. 
 
 An hour passed away and the enemy were being heavily reinforced. 
 
 The Confederate force at this time consisted of l5ut five regiments of 
 infantry and eight pieces of artillery; while, sweeping down upon 
 them, came fifteen thousand Federal troops and twenty guns. 
 
 It was a moment when the stoutest heart might have been appalled. 
 Shot and shell tore through the ranks, man after man was shot down^ 
 but the heroes held their ground. The 8th Georgia, posted within 
 one hundred yards of the enemy, suffered fearfully. The 4th Alabama? 
 led by Bee himself, was nearly cut to pieces. The 7th Georgia and 
 the Mississippians were paying dearly for their reckless gallantry. 
 Evans' little band filled up with Roman firmness the gaps in their 
 rapidly thinning ranks. Latham's and Imboden's gunners, the objects 
 of a withering fire, lost many of their numbers. 
 
 But there was no faltering among them. The old classic war cry, 
 " Pro aris et focis," which ever welded into a phalanx of solid steel all 
 
90 The Aid-de-Oamp. 
 
 the opposing elements of a Roman army, was ringing in eacb Southern 
 soldier's heart, and nerving him to an iron endurance against the power 
 of the foe. They thought of home, and loved ones •>vhose prayers 
 were at that very hour going up to God for them ; for the bright and 
 glorious land that had sent them forth to die for her; of a just God 
 "who giveth not always the battle to the strong, but can save by many 
 or by few ;" and under the inspiration of such thoughts they resolved 
 to die free, as they had lived. They would not, thei/ could not be 
 conquered. 
 
 Shortly before twelve o'clock, Marshall was sent to General Bee with 
 a message from Colonel Evans. While with him, he heard him 
 receive information that two strong divisions of the Federal army had 
 crossed Bull Run and were endeavoring to outflank him. The message 
 was hardly delivered, when it was reported by a courier that one of 
 these divisions was nearly within musket range. 
 
 " We must fall back until we receive support," said General Bee. 
 " Ride, gentlemen," he added to his Aids, " and give the order for the 
 troops to fall back slowly to the Henry house." Marshall returned to 
 Colonel Evans, and delivered the order. 
 
 The troops fell back slowly, and, at first, in good order. But the 
 dense masses of the enemy surged heavily upon them and hurled a 
 fierce and destructive fire into their ranks. It was more than mortals 
 could endure, and those heroic regiments, which had fought so nobly, 
 were thrown into confusion, and the retreat threatened to become a 
 rout. 
 
 General Bee was riding with Colonels Evans and Bartow, in earnest 
 consultation with them. Marshall saw the lines waver, and the troops 
 sway confusedly to and fro. 
 
 Dashing up to General Bee, he cried, hurriedly : 
 
 " General! the army is becoming panic-stricken." 
 
 Bee glanced hurriedly around him. 
 
 " My God !" he cried, in a voice of anguish. " This must not be. 
 Aid me, gentlemen, to restore order. We are not defeated," 
 
 Aided by his oflicers, the gallant General bent every energy to 
 restore order among his troops. 
 
 Marshall rode along the line, shouting to them to rally. 
 
 " Form men ! for God's sake," he cried, imploringly. *' Think of 
 your homes, your wives and little ones. You are fighting for them. 
 Form, we are not defeated." 
 
 Suddenly the Henry house came in sight. This was the point that 
 Bee wished to reach. Here he intended to make a fresh stand. Marshall 
 trembled lest the army should not be sufficiently restored to form there? 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 91 
 
 At this moment his attention was attracted by a sight that he Ion- 
 remembered. Advancing rapidly across the plateau on which the 
 Henry house is situated, a long line of men came on with the steadi- 
 ness of veterans. Over them waved the Confederate flag, and another 
 of a darker hue. He raised his glass, and gazed earnestly at it. It 
 was the blue banner of Virginia. It was his own brigade. Jackson 
 was coming to their assistance. 
 
 " Hurrah!" he shouted, as he waved his cap, enthusiastically. "Old 
 Virginia to the rescue. Look yonder boys," he cried, turning to the 
 men. " There conies Jackson, llally now, and the victory is your 
 own." 
 
 A wild cheer pealed along the lines, and the ranks closed up. The 
 gallant " First Brigade" heard it as they came on, and answered it 
 with a shout of triumph. Order was restored, and the enemy paused. 
 
 Bee and Jackson formed their men, and then the fearful struggle 
 began again. The firing was kept up with increased fury. The 
 enemy had been largely reinforced, and pressed the Southern lines 
 heavily. 
 
 It was now noon. The small force of the Confederates was barely 
 able to hold its position. There were signs of wavering. Marshall 
 mentioned this to Colonel Evans. 
 
 " If we falter now, we are lost," said Evans, sternly. " But look 
 yonder," ke cried, pointing along the lines, while a tremendous cheer 
 rose high above the roar of the battle. Marshall gazed in the directioa 
 i-ndicated. What a sight mot his view. Dashing to the front with the 
 colors of the 4th Alabama flying by his side. General Johnston exposed 
 himself to the storm of balls ihat swept thickly around him, and 
 endeavored to keep the troops firm. He implored them to stand fast, 
 and all would be well. Beauregard, with his noble features all aglow, 
 paced his horse slowly up and down in front of the lines, holding his 
 troops in check, and urging them to act like men. 
 
 These heroic examples were not lost. Wild and impulsive cheers 
 greeted them. The troops forgot their sufferings. The broken ranks 
 closed up. 
 
 " Colonel," exclaimed an old man in the ranks, addressing Evans, 
 and brushing the tears from his eyes, " they can't whip us now." 
 
 At this moment a cry of horror rose in the direction of the Generals. 
 Marshall gazed anxiously towards them. Beauregard could not be 
 seen. Had he fallen ? A moment of anxious suspense followed, and 
 then a mighty shout arose on high, as the heroic commander sprang 
 lightly from the ground. lie waa not touched. A shell had carried 
 
92 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 away his horse's head, but he had escaped unhurt. Mounting a fresh 
 horse, he was again ready for duty. 
 
 General Johnston, yielding to the entreaties of General Beauregard, 
 now left the field, and repaired to a neighboring point, from which he 
 could direct the operations of the entire army. By his ready and skil- 
 ful appreciation of General Beauregard's necessities, and his prompt 
 and energetic action, he saved the victory then trembling in the balance. 
 
 General Beauregard now rode along the lines, and as he passed 
 Evans' brigade, took off his hat and bowed profoundly to them. The 
 men cheered him enthusiastically. Biding to Colonel Evans, he caught 
 his hand, warmly. 
 
 " Colonel," he said, in a tone of deep emotion, "you have saved the, 
 army, and won immortality." Then, seeing Marshall, he held out his 
 hand to him, which the young man seized eagerly. " I am glad to see 
 that you are safe," said the General. *' Colonel," he added, addressing 
 Evans, " you can spare Mr. Marshall now, and I want another Aid. I 
 shall take him with me." 
 
 " You will find him useful," said Evans. " He has been invaluable 
 to me. He has acted* like a hero. Good-bye, Mr. Marshall," he 
 added, shaking hands warmly with him, " I hope to see you unhurt 
 after the battle." 
 
 " I knew," said General Beauregard, as they rode off, turning with 
 a smile to the young man, whose breast was heaving with proud 
 emotion, " that I would hear a favorable account of you." 
 
 The two armies now occupied the plateau on which the Robinson and 
 Henry houses are situated. The enemy's force had been increased to 
 twenty thousand infantry and twenty-four pieces of artillery, and seven 
 companies of regular cavalry; while the Southern army numbered 
 about six thousand five hundred infantry, thirteen guns, and two compa- 
 nies of cavalry. 
 
 During the interval in which the events related above occurred, the 
 artillery had not been idle. Opposed to the veteran regular artillery of 
 the enemy, the Southern volunteer batteries acquitted themselves nobly. 
 Stanard's, Imboden's, Alburtis', AValton's and Rogers' guns, alternating 
 with each other in a rapid and vigorous fire, shattered and broke the 
 ranks of the enemy. 
 
 The Federal ranks were now advanced, and in a few minutes came 
 within half-musket range. A fatal fire now blazed along the Southern 
 lines, and soon the torn and shattered lines of the enemy began to 
 waver. Regiment after regiment was brought up to take the place of 
 those thrown into confusion by the murderous fire, which, without a 
 
The Aid-de-Qamp. 93 
 
 moment's cessation, swept through the Federal ranks. But each new 
 regiment came up only that it might share the fate of the others. 
 
 On the enemy's right were posted the celebrated New York Fire 
 Zouaves. The brilliant uniforms of this regiment made them a con- 
 spicuous mark, and being objects of special hatred to the Confederates, 
 they had suffered fearfully. 
 
 An olEcer now rode up to General Beauregard. 
 " General/' he exclaimed, " Colonel Stuart wishes to know if he 
 may charge, and where he must go." 
 
 " Tell him to go where the fire is hottest," replied Beauregard, hig 
 features glowing with the genius of battle. 
 
 The officer rode off, and in a few minutes a wild shout rose in the 
 direction in which he had disappeared. General Beauregard pointed 
 towards the Zouaves, and all gazed in that direction. A squadron of 
 cavalry was thundering down upon them. They charged right througli 
 the ranks of the Zouaves, sabering right and left. The red-legged 
 ruffians broke in confusion, and the cavalry, sweeping around, dashed 
 through them again and returned. Fresh troops were hurried to the 
 assistance of the Zouaves. The battle raged furiously. The enemy 
 made numerous attempts to outflank the Confederates, but were driven 
 back each time by the terrible fire that greeted their advance. It was 
 two o'clock, and it was evident that the battle could not be thus main- 
 tained much longer. General Beauregard gave the order for the 
 whole line, (except the reserves,) to advance and recover the plateau. 
 They moved forward with the steadiness of veterans. It was a grand 
 sight, that bayonet charge. The enemy retired in confusion as they 
 saw the long firm line of steel come on, and the plateau was won. The 
 Federals rallied, and having received fresh reinforcements, advanced to 
 recover their ground. Borne down by vastly superior numbers, the 
 Confederates i^hwly tell back, and the eneniy regained the plateau. 
 " It was new three o'clock. Eeinforcements ordered forward by 
 General Johnston had arrived, and were posted at the needed points. 
 Turning to his staff, General Beauregard gave orders for a general ' 
 attack upon the Federal lines, and announced that he intended to lead 
 it in person. 
 
 ^' Mr. Marshall," he said, turning to that gentleman, ''order General 
 Jackson- to advance his brigade. Then ride to General Johnston's 
 headquarters, explain our position, and a.sk him. for reinforcements." 
 
 Marshall bowed, and gallopped away. Y»'hen he reached General 
 Jackson, he saw General Bee approaching. Jackson was wounded in 
 the hand, but he sat on his horse, calm and unmoved amid the balls 
 
94 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 that were wliiatliQg anund him. Marshall was received by him with 
 kindness. He delivered his order just as Bee joined them. 
 
 Bee's men had fought nobly until only a handful of the brigade 
 remained. Every field oflSccr had fallen, and many of the company 
 ofiicers had been killed. Regiments were commanded by captains, and 
 companies by sergeants, and the heroie few were about to give way. 
 
 As General Bee approached General Jackson, he exclaimed in a 
 voice of anguish : 
 
 " General, they are beating us back." 
 
 .Jackson's eyes flashed, the large nostrils dilated, and the firm, grave 
 mouth grew more rigid. He turned to General Bee and replied, 
 calmly : 
 
 '' Sir, we'll give them the bayonet." 
 
 Then dashing to the head of his brigade, he thundered, " forward !"' 
 and the men sprang forward with a cheer. 
 
 General Bee now returned to his own brigade, and Marshall having 
 to pass that way, accompanied him. 
 
 As he reached his men, Bee reined in his horse and pointed towards 
 Jackson, who was dashing on splendidly. 
 
 " Look yonJer," he shouted. " There' is Jackson standing like a 
 stone wall. Let us determine to die here and we will conquer. Follow 
 me." 
 
 The appeal was irresistible. It was more than the hearts of the 
 Alabamians and the Mississippians could endure. "With a yell of 
 defiance they sprang forward. 
 
 The whole line was sweeping down upon the enemy. The Federal 
 infantry fell back in disorder. Rickets' and Griffin's guns were captured 
 and turned upon the bewildered foe, who were driven at all points from 
 the plateau into the fields below. 
 
 The charge had been successful, but the success was dearly pur- 
 chased. Bee, Bartow and Fisher, and a host of others, had paid for it 
 with their lives. 
 
 As soon as General Bee had finished his address to his men, Mar- 
 shall dashed off rapidly towards General Johnston's headquarters. It 
 was about half-past three o'clock when he reached them, and delivered 
 his message. 
 
 " My God !" cried General Johnston, in a voice of agony, " where 
 am I to get reinforcements? Gh ! for the four regiiuents I left behind 
 rce !" 
 
 His prayer was answered. Scarcely had he spoken when he was 
 fctartlcd by a loud and thrilling cheer, which burst from his rear. Be 
 
The Aid- de- Camp. 95 
 
 turned and gazed earnestly in the direction from which the cheer 
 carae. 
 
 " Have they outflanked us ?" he muttered through his clenched teeth. 
 
 A dense cloud of dust rising: darkly against the clear sky, revealed 
 the approach of a large body of troops. They came nearer. The 
 eagle oye of the Patriot General sought in vain to penetrate the cloud. 
 Five minutes of painful suspense passed away, and his face grew as 
 pa'e and as rigid as marble. Suddenly the head of the column carae 
 in aight. They were advancing at the double-quick step. Johnston's 
 features grew paler, and he breathed painfully. A moment more, and 
 a cry of joy broke from his lips. He had recognized them, and he 
 shouted impulsively : 
 
 « Kirby Smith, by all the gods! Thank God fbr it." 
 
 Then tearing a leaf from a small blank book which he held in his 
 hand, he wrote upon it hurriedly, and handing it to Marshall, he 
 exclaimed, quickly : 
 
 " Ride, sir, for j'our life, and give this to General Smith. Head it 
 CD your way to him. Then return to General Beauregard, tell him 
 that Smith is coming to his assistance, and repeat to him the contents 
 of this paper." 
 
 Hastily saluting the Commander-in-Chief, Marshall dashed off. He 
 reached General Smith, gave the order, and returning with speed to Gen'l 
 Keauregard, repeated to him General Johnston's orders to General Smith. 
 
 Beauregard's eyes brightened. 
 
 "■ We shall whip them now," he said, joyfully. 
 
 General Johnston, in leaving General Smith at Piedmont, had 
 ordered him to push on with all speed and meet him at Manassas the 
 next day. But Smith was delayed, and did net arrive in the neigh- 
 borhood of Manassas until the afternoon of the 21st. Here, for the 
 first time, he heard, high above the rattle of the cars, the thunder of 
 the guns. At once he knew that the great battle, so long expected 
 was going on, and that he was needed there. Hastily disembarking 
 his men from the train, he pushed on at double-quick time, guided only 
 by the roar of the battle. His arrival was indeed opportune. 
 
 As General Smith led his men into action, he was wounded and 
 carried from the field, and the command devolved upon Colonel Elzey. 
 
 Early and Cocke had now come up, and General Beauregard gave the 
 order for the final advance upon the enemy. The attack was hot and 
 impetuous. Early's brigade had outflanked the enemy on the right, 
 and now they were assailed in front and on their flank and in the rear. 
 They fell back in confusion. Each moment their terror grew wildoT 
 The rout had begun. 
 
96 The Aid-ie-CamiJ, 
 
 On, on STvept the glittering line of Southern steel, driving the 
 bewildered foe before it. Only a few hundred yards distant lay the 
 sparkling waters of Bull Run, which the enemy had crossed so Taunt- 
 ingly in the morning. A fresh charge increased their panic, and 
 breaking, they fled in the wildest confusion. The rout was complete. 
 The right and centre of the Confederate army were advanced, and the 
 pursuit became general. 
 
 Let us pause now and glance at a scene in another portion of the 
 field. 
 
 Just as the rout began, a man of lofty stature, whose gray hair fell 
 carelessly around his noble and striking features, rode out of Camp 
 Pickens, surrounded by a group of officers and civilians. He was 
 dressed in a suit of plain gray homespun, and a white slouched hat 
 was placed carelessly upon his head. His eyes gleamed with pride as 
 he listened to the cheers that rose in the distance, and then moistened 
 with pity as he beheld the torn and mangled forms of the wounded, 
 borne by him. 
 
 A man was carried by upon a litter. At a sign from the horseman, 
 the bearers paused with their burden, and the riders checked their 
 steeds. The stranger approached the litter, and bending forward, said 
 in soft and gentle tones : 
 
 " My poor fellow, I am sorry to see you thus." 
 
 " Yes, yes," replied the sufferer, as he feebly opened his eyes, and 
 fixed them upon the stranger; "they've done for me now; but my 
 father's there yet ! our army's there yet ! our cause is there yet !" and 
 then raising himself on his arm, he cried enthusiastically, while his 
 pale face shone with an almost Heavenly glory, " and libsrty's there 
 yet." 
 
 He sank back exhausted, while the stranger's features seemed to catch 
 the glory which was shed from the sufferer's countenance. One of the 
 riders bent forward, and exclaimed impulsively : 
 
 " Look up, my friend, and receive your reward. It was the Presi- 
 dent himself that spoke to you." 
 
 The youth opened his eyes and fixed them eagerly upon the stranger. 
 He raised himself on his arm, and gazed earnestly at him. Then sink- 
 ing back, he murmured, with a happy smile : 
 
 " Yes ! it is Jeff. Davis. Clod bless him !" 
 
 A shade passed over his features; the silver chord was loosed, and 
 the brave young spirit had taken its flight. 
 
 Manly eyes were dim with tears, and there was a silence among the 
 horsemen, as they turned their steeds towards the battle-field and rode 
 rapidly away. 
 
The Aid-de-Camp, 97 
 
 It was indeed the President, who had just arrived from Richmond, 
 in time to witness the hard won victory of his countrymen, and the 
 shameful flight of the enemy. 
 
 The shout of " Davis ! Davis !" was passed from man to man as he 
 rode on. The dying heard the cry as it pealed from a thousand lipg, 
 and feehly raised themselves to catch a last glimpse of their idolized 
 President. Hundreds, who had been borne from the field wounded 
 and exhausted, sprang up and rushed back with him.* 
 
 Let us return to the pursuit. 
 
 Just as the rout began, General Beauregard directed Marshall to go 
 to Colonel Radford, who was in command of a regiment of Virginia 
 cavalry and order him to charge the retreating enemy, and guide him 
 to a point which he, indicated. Marshall hastened on and soon found 
 Colonel Radford, who was sitting on his horse at the head of his regi- 
 ment. The men were all fine specimens of the sons of the Old 
 Dominion, and were impatiently awaiting orders to join in the fray. 
 Marshall delivered General Beauregard's order to Colonel Radford, 
 who, turning to his men, shouted : 
 
 " Men] now is our time. Forward!" 
 
 Away they dashed at a full gallop. Marshall rode beside Colon*! 
 Radford, whose fine face was glowing with excitement. A cavalry 
 charge was new to Marshall, and thrilling beyond description. Cross- 
 ing Bull Run below the Stone Bridge, they made for the rear of the 
 flying foe, while on all sides they heard the yells of the pursuers, the 
 acreame of the fugitives, and the thtmder of the guns. 
 
 " Now the headlong pace grew faster," 
 
 and away the horsemen thundered over the ditches, fences, brooks and 
 trees. In a moment they were upon the flank of the enemy. A bat- 
 tery was passing at the time, supported by four regiments, covering the 
 retreat of the Federal army. Upon this the regiment dashed, dividing 
 in the charge. The infantry broke and fled in confusion, but the 
 gunners stood firm. Unslinging their shot guns the cavalry opened a 
 rapid and efi"ective fire upon the enemy; and, then, drawing their 
 sabres, dashed down indiscriminately upon them. 
 
 The troopers separated, some following the fugitives in their flight. 
 Marshall now found himself with a small group of officers and men. 
 The battery was preparing to open on them. 
 
 " Charge the guns !" he shouted. 
 
 • I have united two incidents. One related by Captain McFarland, of tfa« 
 Virginia cavalry— the other by President Davis! 
 
 7 
 
98 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 The force was too small and they were compelled to retreat to their 
 main body. As they did so, the guns opened on them. 
 
 Marshall fired his revolver at one of the men who was in the act of 
 discharging a cannon. The fellow reeled and fell. Marshall bent low 
 in the saddle, and the grape from the battery whistled over him. He 
 reached the flank of the enemy and pausing, fired his revolver at the 
 column which was passing him. He was now entirely separated from 
 his friends, and he turned to ride back. Soon he came up with a 
 Southern battery which was thundering on in pursuit of the enemy. 
 
 "Whose battery is this?" he shouted. 
 
 "Kemper's!" was the reply; and Captain Kemper at once rode up 
 to hina. Marshall told him who he was^ and determined to accompany 
 him. • 
 
 " Very good, sir," said Captain Kemper. " I shall be glad to have 
 you accompany me."* 
 
 They dashed on. Now the guns were unlimbered and the roads 
 swept of the fugitives, who fled along them in the wildest terror. Now 
 a FederaJ battery covered the retreat. Kemper's shells and solid shot 
 were hurled upon it, dismounting guns, breaking carriages, and sweep- 
 ing drivers and cannoniers from their horses and boxes. The can- 
 noniers cut the traces, and mounting the horses, abandoned the guns 
 and fled. Wagons were broken down, and the bridge over Cub liun 
 was choked up with rubbish. The fords were blocked up, and the 
 wildest confusion prevailed everywhere. Arms, clothing and equipments 
 were scattered along the road and over the country; and the dead and 
 wounded^ together with those who had been overcome by exhaustion, lay 
 thickly on every side. A dense mass of fugitives poured along the 
 roads, through fields and over the hills, screaming frantically with rage 
 and fright. Men were trampled under foot by the bewildered horsemen, 
 who dashed into the throng at full speed. Those who were overtaken 
 by the pursuers fell upon their knees and begged for mercy. 
 
 No language can describe, and no mind, save that of one who wit- 
 nessed it, can comprehend the terrors of that terrible rout. A great army 
 was disorganized, demoralized and ruined by it. 
 
 It was night, and the moon had risen, as Marshall, returning to 
 General Beauregard's headquarters, pa.ssed over the battle-field. The 
 moon was shining down in unclouded brilliancy, lighting up the field 
 with a strange and solemn light. Men were lying on all sides, and in 
 every conceivable position. The groans of the wounded rose fearfully 
 
 *The incidents of the charge arc taken from the narrative of Captain Mc 
 Farland, which is given in Mr. Pollard's History of the War. 
 
Tlie Aid-de-Camp. 99 
 
 upon the air, chilling the listener's blood. It is a fearful sigl^t, a 
 battle-field after the ttrife is over; and now the moonlight seemed to 
 heighten all its horrors. Marshall had not been able, during the 
 excitement of the day, to realize the terrors of the fight, but now as he 
 looked back upon them he wondered that he should have escaped; 
 and he uttered a prayer of thankfulness for his safety. 
 
 As he rode on he was attracted by the loud neighing of a horse. He 
 rode up to the spot, and there behold a sight that touched his heart. 
 
 An officer lay upon the ground, badly wounded. By him stood his 
 faithful horse. The noble animal lowered his head and rubbed his 
 mouth gently over the unfortunate man's body, and then raising his 
 head uttered a loud and painful neigh. Then he lowered his head 
 again, and the wounded man, raising bis hand, gently and affectionately 
 stroked his fdce. 
 
 Marshall dismounted, and approaching the wounded man, asked : 
 
 " Can I do anything for you, sir ?" 
 
 " I am glad to see some one," said the officer gratefully " I am not 
 suffering much, but I am very thirsty. If you will place me on my 
 horse, I think I can reach a hospital." 
 
 Marshall gave him some water from his canteen, and placed, him on 
 his horse. Then mounting his own, he rode by him, and supported 
 him. 
 
 " This horse," said the officer, as they rode slowly along, " is a noble 
 animal. He staid by my side after I was wounded, and seemed to 
 suffer real pain at seeing me so helpless." 
 
 They soon reached a hospital, and Marshall having seen that the 
 wounded man was properly cared for, rode off towards headquarter*! 
 
 When he entered the room where General Beauregard was, he found 
 the President, General Johnston, and a number of officers there, also. 
 He advanced to General Beauregard. 
 
 " I became separated from Colonel Radford, lost my way, and stop- 
 ped to help a wounded man, or I would have returned sooner. General/' 
 * he said, in explanation of his long absence. 
 
 " Never mind," said Beauregard. "I am rejoiced to see you, for I 
 feared that you had been hurt." 
 
 Then leading him to the President, he continued : " This is the 
 officer of whom I was just speaking. Your Excellency. This is Lieu- 
 tenant Mar^shall, President Davis." 
 
 The President held out his hand, warmly. 
 
 "I am glad to meet you, Capfam," he said, kindly. "General 
 Beauregard speaks highly of you." 
 
100 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 "I am only a Lieutenant, Your Excellency," said Marshall, thinking 
 that his title had been misunderstood. 
 
 " You are a Captain novr," said the President, with a smile. 
 
 Marshall was confused by his unexpected promotion, and stammered 
 out his thanks. The President interrupted him, and said, kindly : 
 
 ^' Never mind, Captain. ' Your oodesty is equal to your bravery.' " 
 
 Marshall gazed around in a state of bewilderment. He saw the 
 dark eyes of General Johnston bent upon him kindly. The General 
 held out his hand to him : 
 
 " I congratulate you upon your promotion, Captain," he said, with 
 one of his fascinating smiles. " You see now that General Beauregard 
 was right last night. The left was the road to promotion." 
 
 " Captain," exclaimed General Beauregard, " you will remain upon 
 my staff. You are now one of my regular Aides." 
 
 Marshall was overwhelmed by his good fortune. He retired into the 
 group of officers, and received their congratulations. A hand was 
 placed upon his shoulder, and looking up, he saw the grave, calm face 
 of General Jackson. The General drew him aside, and said to him in 
 a low tone 
 
 " I am very glad to hear of your promotion, though I am very sorry 
 to lose you. I knew when I saw you praying at Harper's Ferry, that 
 you would be successful. Continue to prayj it is the secret of all 
 true success." 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 CAPTAIN Marshall's appointment upon General Beauregard's staff 
 was very pleasant to him. His duties were not heavy, as the army 
 lay motionless around Centreville. Early in August he obtained a 
 short leave of absence, and went to Ptichmond on a visit. Here he 
 met with Mr. and Mrs. Wortbington and Mary. Charlie was in the 
 1st Maryland regiment, and he had seen him frequently. His visit 
 was delightful. He was anxious to have his marriage with Mary cele- 
 brated befoi-e his return to the army. 
 
 " Wait, Edward, until we can see our way a little clearer," said the 
 old gentleman, " and then you can have her." 
 
 In vain he urged Mr. Wortbington to recall his decision, the old 
 man was firm. 
 
 Soon news came that the army was advancing towards the Potomac, 
 and Marshall hastened back. He found the advance of the army 
 lying at Munson's, Mason's and Upton's hills. From these points the 
 Federal Capitol could be seen in the distance, and the drums' of the 
 Federal camp heard. The gage of battle was boldly thrown down, 
 but the " Young Napoleon" declined to take it up. 
 
 One day, while the army was lying at Munson's Hill, Marshall was 
 parsing a tent, when some one called him. It was a Surgeon with 
 whom he was intimately acquainted. 
 
 " Come here. Captain," said the Surgeon. " There is a Yankee 
 Major in this tent. He is dying, and he raves terribly. He has 
 mentioned your name frequently. Come in and see if you know him." 
 
 Marshall was surprised at this, and entered the tent, which was used 
 for hospital purposes. 
 
 On a low, rude pallet, he saw a large, fine-looking man, dressed in 
 the uniform of a Federal Major. He was raving terribly, shouting 
 and cursing at the top of his voice. Marshall bent over him. To his 
 astonishment, he recognized in the wounded man, his old enemy. Captain, 
 now Major Cameron. 
 
 " How came he here, Doctor ?" he asked. 
 
 " He was wounded and captured in a skirmish last night," replied 
 the Surgeon. " But who is he ?" 
 
102 Tlie Aid-de-Qamp. 
 
 " He is a Major Cameron/' said MarsLall. " I know him when he 
 was on Cadwallader's Staflf. He is the man that locked me up in Fort 
 McHenr}'. But poor fellow, I pity him now." 
 
 The dying man ceased his raving for a moment, and gazed at them. 
 Marshall bent over him and asked : 
 
 " Do you know me, Major Cameron V 
 
 Cameron gazed at him fiercely. 
 
 " Why do you come after me now?" he muftered. ''I tell you I 
 know nothing of her. She escaped. I know not where." Then 
 raising himself on his arm, he shouted : " Drive faster — faster. Don't 
 you see that hack coming after us. Ha I ha ! it is down — broken — 
 away — away. Ha ! I have you, my lady bird, I have you now." Then 
 he sank back, muttering : " Gone, gone. But that woman shall pay 
 for it." 
 
 He was silent for a moment. Then he raised himself up with a 
 great effort. His features trembled convulsively, and his eyes seemed 
 starting from their sockets, he pointed tremblingly in the direction in 
 which he was gazing, and muttered in a low, fearful tone that almost 
 chilled his hearers' blood : 
 
 " Look ! Look ! Do you see her as she stands there ? Oh ! she is 
 as beautiful as an angel ; but there is an ugly wound in her breast. 
 She is dying. Agnes, Agnes, pardon ! pity ! I was mad, I did not 
 mean -to kill you. Do not look so terribly at me." 
 
 He shrank back and covered his face with his hands, while he 
 shook with the wildest terror. Then he sprang up to his full height, 
 and struggled violently, as if trying to shake off some one. 
 
 "She has me in her power," he gasped. "She is dragging me 
 down to hell. How the flames hiss and roar. 3Iercy," he shouted, 
 frantically, " mercy, Agnes, mercy." 
 
 He fell back upon the bed, and his struggles grew fainter. Soon 
 they ceased entirely, and he lay still and motionless. The Surgeon 
 placed his hand upon his breast and then exclaimed, solemnly : 
 
 " He is dead." 
 
 "He has gone to receive his reward," said Marshall, as he passed 
 out of the tent. " It was a fearful scene, and I trust that I may never 
 see another like it." 
 
 Time passed away, and the army still lay at Munson's Hill. 
 
 One night Marshall was awakened by some one shaking him. Rous- 
 ing himself, he found that it was General Beauregard. 
 
 " Get up and dress at once, Captain. I want you," said the General. 
 
 Marshall was soon ready, and accompanied Beauregard from the 
 tent. They paused at the door, and the General directed him to 
 
^ The Aid-de-Camp. 103 
 
 watch the Heavens in the direction of the Federal camp. He did so, 
 and in a few seconds saw a brilliant streak of light flash across the 
 Heavens. This was followed by a similar light in another direction. 
 
 " What do those rockets mean, General ?" he asked. 
 
 " That is just what I want to know," replied Beauregard, laughing. 
 '' I think there is some movement on foot, and I mean to play Mc- 
 Clellan a trick. I want you to wake up Colonel Alexander, ride along 
 the lines with him, and send up two dozen rockets at different points." 
 
 Marshall aroused Colonel Alexander, and delivered General Beaure- 
 gard's instructions. They set out and soon fired their last rocket. 
 The enemy's rockets disappeared, and nothing was seen of them during 
 the night. 
 
 It was afterwards discovered that McClellan was advancing in heavy 
 force upon the Confederate position, and that the rockets were thrown 
 up from the different portions of his army as they moved off. When 
 he saw the rockets going up from the Southern lines he supposed that 
 his plans had been betrayed, and immediately abandoned the move- 
 ment. His force was greatly superior to that of the Confederates, 
 who might have experienced a severe loss but for the sagacity of their 
 wily General. 
 
 On the 27th of September, JIarshall rode over to Munson's Hill to 
 carry an order from General Beauregard. While there, he noticed a 
 number of men busily engaged in mounting a section of a stove pipe 
 and a wooden churn upon the slight infantry breastworks which had 
 been erected on the hill. He rode up to them, and asked : 
 
 " What are you doing?" 
 
 '^ Only mounting some Quakers to frighten the Yanks," replied one 
 of the men, laughing. " We are going to fall back, and these will do 
 to hold the enemy in check until we get away." 
 
 Marshall laughed heartily. It seemed supremely ridiculous. 
 
 That day the army fell back to Fairfax Court House, and finally to 
 Centreville. The day after the army reached Centreville, Marshall 
 rode to the camp of the Maryland regiment, to see Charlie Worthing, 
 ton. To his great astonishment, he found that his friend had been 
 captured in a skirmish three days before. In a fortnight after this, 
 he received a letter from Mary, telling him that her brother had been 
 heard from. He was a prisoner in the Baltimore City Jail. Marshall's 
 mind was at once made up. He determined to bring about his friend's 
 -escape from the Federal power. Charlie had aided him once, in a 
 similar predicament, and he determined to assist him now. He 
 informed General Beauregard of his plan, and asked his permission to 
 execute it. 
 
104 The Aid-de-Camy. 
 
 " I have some matters that I wish to arrange in Baltimore," said the 
 Greneral, " and I shall be glad to have them attended to by you." 
 
 Having obtained permission, Marshall at once set out. This was 
 about the first of December. He had little difficulty in getting into 
 Maryland, and soon reached Baltimore. 
 
 Here he learned that Charlie Worthington was in jail. He had 
 been so open and defiant in his treason (?) that he had been confined 
 iu a separate cell. He resolved to visit him, and try to make some 
 arrangements to efi'ect his escape. In order to see him, it was neces- 
 sary to obtain a pass from General Dix, the Federal Commander. This 
 he resolved to do. 
 
 He found General Dix at his headquarters on Holliday street. He 
 was sitting at a table, writing. Before he could state his business the 
 General was called out of the room. Marshall glanced at the table, 
 and on it saw two sheets of paper, signed "John A. Dix, Major 
 General, Commanding Department op Annapolis." 
 
 " I may need these," he said quietly, and taking them from the 
 table, he placed them in the pocket of his great coat, and placed two 
 blank sheets of paper in their stead. He had scarcely resumed his 
 seat, when General Dix returned, followed by a clerk. 
 
 " Mr. Jones," said he, approaching the table, and resuming his seat, 
 "here are the papers." He took up the sheets and glanced at them. 
 "Stay," he exclaimed, laughing, " I neglected to sign them before I 
 went out. Fill them up at once." 
 
 He affixed his signature to the papers and handed them to the 
 clerk, who immediately left the room. 
 
 " Now, sir," said the General, turning to Marshall, " do you wish to 
 see me V 
 
 " I came. General," replied Marshall, " to request permission to visit 
 an acquaintance, who is now paying the penalty of his folly." 
 
 "Who is he, and where is he confined?" asked the General. 
 
 "His name is Worthington. He is one of the rebel prisoners con- 
 fined in the jail," replied Marshall. 
 
 "What is your name?" asked General Dix, gazing at him scruti- 
 nizingly, 
 
 " Henry Edwards," replied the young man, quietly. 
 
 " I do not ki^cw you, Mr. Edwards," said General Dix. " You may 
 be a loyal citizen,*but I have no proof of it. Are you known in Bal- 
 timore?" 
 
 "I am, sir," replied Marshall. 
 
 " Then bring mc a note from some good Union man in the city, 
 certifying to your loyalty, and I will grant you the permission that 
 
The Aid-de-Gamp. 105 
 
 you desire. You had better come in the morning, as I shall go over to 
 Washington this afternoon." 
 
 Marshall rose, and expressed his thanks for the offer. 
 
 " I have no particular business with hiiu, General," he said. "But 
 he is an old schoolmate, and I think I may be able to bring him over 
 to the side of the Union." 
 
 "If all accounts be true," said General Dix, laughing, "you will 
 have a difficult task. But you can try him. Good morning, sir." 
 
 Marshall left the room and returned to the house of a friend, with 
 whom he was staying. Once alone in his room, he thought over a plan 
 which he had formed while on his visit to General Dix. Then he 
 drew forth the papers that, he had brought with him. On the first he 
 wrote as follows : 
 
 " Headquarters, Department of Annapolis, 1 
 Baltimore, December 13th, 1861. j 
 " Captain Henry Edwards, of the President's Staff, in compliance 
 with a demand this day made upon me by the Secretary of War, is 
 hereby ordered to remove from the City Jail the person of one Charles 
 Worthington, a rebel prisoner, now confined there, and convey him to 
 Washington, to be examined by the President. The Warden of the 
 Jail will deliver the said prisoner to Captain Edwards, upon the 
 authority of this order." 
 
 The other paper he filled up as follows : 
 
 " Headquarters, Department of Annapolis, | 
 Baltimore, December 13th, 1861. j 
 " All persons are requested, and all officers and soldiers under my 
 command, are hereby ordered to pass Henry Edwards and George 
 Green at all times, and all places within this Department, unless 
 specially ordered to the contrary. The above-mentioned parties are 
 upon Government business." 
 
 Both of these papers bore the signature of " John A. Dix, Major 
 General, &c." 
 
 " Now, General Dix," said Marshall, laughing, as he read the papers- 
 "I think I can make a better use of these than you could have 
 intended." 
 
 The gentleman at whose house Marshall was staying, was an inti- 
 mate friend, and an ardent Southerner. Marshall revealed to him his 
 plan, and asked him to go out and purchase for him a military cap and 
 vest. This his friend did, and he donned them. About two o'clock 
 Marshall took leave of his friend, end entering a hack, ordered the 
 
106 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 driver to carry him over to the Jail. He soon reached the place, and 
 alighting from the carriage, and passing through the "Warden's house, 
 he entered the jail yard. As he was passing the window of one of the 
 cells, he paused and glanced through it. He saw his friend seated 
 ■upon a rough pallet, with his head resting upon his hands. His great- 
 est fear had been that in his surprise, Charlie would recognize him and 
 ruin the plot. Now he could prevent this. Taking out a piece of 
 paper, he wrote on it rapidly with a pencil : 
 
 "I am here in disguise to rescue you. I have adopted a bold plan. 
 Do not recognize me. Act your part as a defiant rebel. 
 
 " Marshall." 
 
 Then placing his mouth to the window, he called softly, " Charlie." 
 The prisoner glanced up, and 3Iarshall threw him the paper. He saw 
 him pick it up and read it, and then he passed into the jail. As he 
 entered the main hall, a large, florid-faced man rose and approached 
 him. 
 
 "I wish (o see Captain James, the "Warden of the Jail," said Mar- 
 shall to him. 
 
 " That is my name, sir," said the man politely. 
 
 '• I have an order to carry a prisoner to "Washington," said Marshall, 
 drawing out a paper and handing it to him. 
 
 Captain James opened the paper, and read it carefully, and his man- 
 ner grew more repectful to Marshall. 
 
 " This is a very strange order. Captain," he said, as he glanced at 
 the young man, " but I suppose it's all right." 
 
 " Yes," replied Marshall. " General Dis goes over to "Washington 
 this afternoon. I am to meet him at the Depot with the prisoner." 
 
 " How do you intend carrying him to the Depot?" asked the '\\''arden. 
 
 " I have a hack at the gate," replied Marshall. 
 
 '•But Captain," he added, "General Dix tells me that he is very 
 unruly, and advises me to handcuff him, to prevent his giving me any 
 trouble. If he should attempt to escape, this will settle him." 
 
 He drew a finely finished Colt's pistol from his breast, as he spoke. 
 James laughed, and turning to a Turnkey, told him to bring up young 
 Worthington. 
 
 " Put a pair of bracelets on him first, Joe," he added. 
 
 The Turnkey disappeared, and the Warden asked Marshall what 
 was wanted of the prisoner in "Washington. 
 
 "1 don't know," he replied, "but I heard the President say that he 
 has in his possession information that we must obtain cither by fair 
 means or foul." 
 
The Aid-de-Camjp. 107 
 
 In a few minutes Charlie was led in by the Turnkey. He was 
 coarsely dressed, and bore marks of the severity of his confinement. 
 His wrists were manacled, and he walked along sullenly. 
 
 " Here he is, sir," said the Turnkey. " And this/' he added, hand- 
 ing Marshall a small key, " unlocks his fetters." 
 
 " What do you want with me V asked Charlie, gazing fiercely at 
 3Iarshall. 
 
 " The President wants to see you, my snappish young rebel," said 
 Marshall, mockingly. 
 
 " D^-n the President," said Charlie, sullenly, 
 
 Marshall walked up to him firmly, and drawing his pistol, held it 
 before him. 
 
 "Young man," said he, sternly, " my orders are to carry you to 
 Washington, and I intend to do so. If you go quietly, you will be 
 treated well. If jou resist me, I shall blow your brains out." 
 
 Charlie's eyes sank, and he assumed an expression of dogged sub- 
 mission. 
 
 " By George I" cried the Warden, admiringly, " Geno^i Dix would 
 like to see this. He has been trying for five weeks to uo what you 
 have done in five minutes." 
 
 " Come," said Marshall, " we must go. General Dix is waiting for 
 us at the cars. Good-bye Captain," he added, shaking hands with the 
 Warden . 
 
 " I shall keep the order as my authority for delivering the prisoner 
 to you," said the Warden. 
 
 '■' Certainly," said Marshall, carelessly. 
 
 Then turning to Charlie, he seized him by the arm and led him 
 roughly from the hall. 
 
 They passed through the yard and the Warden's house, and entered 
 the hack. Marshall spoke but a single word to the driver as they 
 entered it, "Barnum's," and they were soon whirling rapidly away 
 from the jail. As they drove off, Marshall removed the fetters from 
 Charlie's wrists, and threw them into the Falls, which they were then 
 crossing. Then they broke into a*long and hearty laugh. 
 
 "You played your part adriiirably, Marshall," said Charlie wiping 
 his eyes. " But tell me all about the affair." 
 
 Marshall explained his plan to him. 
 
 " We are not out of danger yet, Charlie," he continued. " We have 
 no time to lose. We must get across the river at once. We may, at 
 any moment, be detected and pursued. The trick will certainly be 
 discovered to-morrow, if not today, and we must get the start of our 
 enemies." 
 
108 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 In a few minutes they reacted Barnum's. Under pretext of taking 
 a bath, Charlie vent into one of the bathing rooms and donned the 
 plain black suit with which Marshall had provided him. Then leaving 
 the hotel, they entered a new hack, and ordered the driver to carry 
 them across the Long Bridge to Brooklyn. When they reached the 
 bridge, the hack stopped, and a sentinel appeared at the door. Marshall 
 produced the passport, with General Dix's signature, and handed it to 
 him. The man opened it, and turning it upside down, glanced at it 
 with a grave look, and then handing it back to Marshall, turned away 
 with a satisfied air. Q''he occupants of the hack could scarcely restrain 
 their laughter at this little scene. The hack passed on, and soon 
 reached the Anne Arundel side. They drove for a mile beyond Brook- 
 lyn, when they dismissed the hack, and pushed on on foot. 
 
 " We shall have to walk for ten miles," said Marshall. " After that 
 we shall find friends, who will furnish us with hor^s." 
 
 They pressed on, and shortly after dark, reached a friend's house. 
 
 After they left the jail, the "Warden paced up and down the hall 
 musing u]^ the strange scene that had just occurred. lie read and 
 re-read thWrder which he held in his hand, until he knew every word 
 by heart. Nearly an hour elapsed. Suddenly he paused. 
 
 " I don't half like what I have done," he said deprecatingly, " but 
 I suppose it's all right. Anyhow, I'll ride down to the cars and see 
 General Dix about it." 
 
 Mounting his horse, he proceeded to the De^t. He found General 
 Dix sitting in a car, reading a paper. He approached him, and asked 
 if Captain Edwards had arrived. 
 
 " Captain Edwards," exclaimed the General, in surprise. " Who is 
 he?" 
 
 " The President's Aid that you sent to me for one of the prisoners," 
 replied the Warden, slowly. 
 
 ^' There is no such officer on the President's Staff," said General 
 Dix, completely bewildered. " I did not send to you for any prisoner. 
 What do you mean. Captain James ?" 
 
 " Isn't this your order ?" asked the Warden, upon whose mind a 
 new light began to dawn. 
 
 Dix took the paper, and as he read it, his face grew crimson with 
 passion. 
 
 "■ Tricked by Heaven !" he shouted. " Captain James, that man 
 stole this paper with my signature this morning. His real name is 
 Edward Marshall, and he is an officer on Beauregard's Staff. My de- 
 tectives have found out all about him, and are now on his track. You 
 have been fooled, sir, and you must find thesamen." 
 
The Aid-de-Camp. 109 
 
 The Warden was thunderstruck. The General glared at him fu- 
 riously. 
 
 " You are a fine Waiden," he thundered. 
 
 " But General, that is your signature," said James, pointing to the 
 Federal Commander's own sign manual, which graced the bottom of 
 the page. 
 
 Dix bit his lips with vexation. 
 
 " True," he muttered. " You were not so much to blame after all. 
 That fellow was too sharp for us. Have the trains, boats and bridges 
 watched, and if they have not yet left the city, we may catch them. I 
 will be back in the morning." 
 
 Here the train moved off, and the conversation was interrupted. 
 The Warden executed the General's order, and a rigid search was in- 
 stituted, but no traces of the fugitives could be discovered. 
 
 Charlie and Marshall were provided with horses, and hastened to- 
 wards the Potomac. On the third day they reached Saint Mary's 
 county. They stopped at the residence of a friend. 
 
 The house was situated on the bank of the Potomac. A flight of 
 stairs, almost concealed by the vines which overhung them, led to the 
 water. Here a boat, with a sail and two pairs of oars, had been pro- 
 vided by their friend. 
 
 There was a third party at the house, who had been there for seve- 
 ral days awaiting an opportunity to cross the Potomac. -It was agreed 
 that they should cross that night. During the afternoon, the host and 
 his guest were seated around a bright fire, and Marshall was relating 
 the particulars of Charlie's escape from the Baltimore Jail, when one 
 of the gentlemen's little sons rushed in, crying : 
 
 " Father, the Yankee cavalry are coming." 
 
 All arose in alarm. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the host, "you must cross the river at once. Go 
 down to the boat, and pushout from the shore, but lie under the bushes 
 until the cavalry depart. If they sec you crossing, it will get me into 
 trouble." 
 
 They hurried down to the water's edge and entered the boat. 
 
 Scarcely had they left the house, when the enemy's cavalry arrived. 
 They dismounted, and, rushing in, demanded the surrender of the 
 Secessionists whom they said were concealed in the house. The owner 
 of the mansion protested that there were no strangers there, but the 
 Federals insisted upon searching the house. This they did, and find- 
 ing no one, they departed, vowing vengeance against all " traitors" 
 who might fall into their hands. When they had gone, the gentleman 
 descended to the water. 
 
110 Tlie Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 " You must cross at once,'' he said, addressing the occupants of the 
 boat. " It is not safe for 3'ou to remain here. Farewell, and may God 
 speed you." 
 
 They returned the farewell, and pushed out into the stream. The 
 river was about ten miles wide at this point, and a stiff breeze was 
 blowing directly from the North. They set the sail, and were soon 
 LToing merrily over the water. When they had gotten about three 
 miles from the shore, they saw suddenly loom up from behind a point 
 of land about four miles off, the dark hull of a Federal gun-boat. 
 
 " We are in for it now," muttered Marshall, through his clenched 
 teeth, as he grasped the tiller with a firmer hand. 
 
 All eyes were bent anxiously upon the gun-boat. Suddenly a wreath 
 of white smoke curled from her side, followed by a dull, booming re- 
 port, and a shot fell into the water nearly a mile off. 
 
 <' She has seen us, and is giving chase," cried Marshall. " Out with 
 the oars, gentlemen, while I manage the sail. We have a long dis- 
 tance to go, but we have a fair start." 
 
 The oars were shipped, and four strong arms labored vigorously at 
 them. The gunboat fired rapidly, and at each shot her range grew 
 more accurate. 
 
 The W'ind freshened every minute, and soon it was blowing a perfect 
 hurricane. The river was covered with foam and the Waves were run- 
 ning quite high. The little boat flew swiftly over the water, now lying 
 almost over on her side, and her sail bending and stretching to its ut- 
 most capacity. 
 
 An hour of fearful suspense passed away. The gunboat was gaining 
 rapidly on the little vessel, firing as she came. The shore was fully a 
 (j^uarter of a mile distant, and the gunooat not a mile behind. Sud- 
 denly, a shot crashed against the frail mast, literally splintering it, and 
 the sail fell listlessly over the side. The crew of the gunboat waved 
 their hats and cheered lustily. They now felt sure of their prize. 
 
 But the occupants of the boat had not been idle. Scarcely had the 
 mast fallen, when it was seized and thrown overboard. The oars, 
 which had been taken in, after the wind became so high, were now put 
 out, and the little boat again moved towards the shore. The 
 steamer gained rapidly upon them. In a few minutes she was in rifle 
 range. Marshall now put out his oar to measure the depth of the 
 water, and found that it would not reach his waist. 
 
 " AVe must wade ashore," he shouted to his companions, and suiting 
 the action to the word,^hc sprang overboard, and commenced moving 
 towards the shore. They followed his example, and abandoned the 
 boat. The grape whistled over their heads, but they reached the 
 
The Aid-de-Ca7np. Ill 
 
 shore. Here they waved their hats and gave a cheer of exultation, 
 which was answered with a yell of fury from the crew of the gun- 
 boat. They then sprang up the bank and disappeared in the bushes. 
 
 Once in Virginia, they were soon enabled to reach their destinations. 
 Charlie went to Righmond to see his parents, and the gentleman who 
 had come over witli them accompanied him, while Marshall returned 
 to the army. He related his adventures to General Beauregard. The 
 G-eneral laughed heartily when Marshall told him how he had fooled 
 Dix, and congratulated him upon the success of his plan, and his safe 
 return. 
 
 A few davs after his return, Marshall accompanied General Beaure- 
 gard in a reconnoisance of the enemy's position. They were riding 
 slowly and cautiously along, having accomplished their objects, when 
 General Beauregard suddenly exclaimed : 
 
 " Ride, gentlemen, for your lives. They have seen us." 
 
 All wheeled their horses and dashed off. As they did so, four field 
 pieces were discharged from a clump of trees in which they had been 
 concealed, not five hundred yards in front of them, and grape and 
 cannister flew on all sides of the Confederate commander and his staff, 
 who sped rapidly on. Marshall felt a sharp and sudden pain in the 
 calf ot 'lis left leg. He leaned forward and clasped his horse around 
 the neek He knew that he was wounded, and he feared that he 
 would not be able to remain on his horse. But holding fast to the 
 neck of the noble animal, he managed to retain his seat. 
 
 At last the escort which General Beauregard had left behind him 
 was reached. Marshall had only strength enough to check his horse, 
 and then, exhausted by the loss of blood, reeled, and would have fuller, 
 to the ground, had not one of the men received him in his arms. He 
 had fainted. 
 
 When he recovered his consciousness, he was lying in his quarters 
 at Centreville. Several persons were standing by him, and among 
 them was General Beauregard. A surgeon was sitting by him with 
 his hand upon his pulse, Marshall opened his eyes, and gazed enqui- 
 ringly around. 
 
 '* Where am I ?" he asked, feebly. 
 
 " In your own quarters," said General Beauregard, kindly. " You 
 have been badly hurt in the leg by a grape shot. You are too weak to 
 talk now. Come, gentlemen," he continued, " we had better retire. 
 Captain Marshall needs rest." 
 
 They went out, leaving Marshall alone with the surgeon, who sat oy 
 him for some time, and told him that he must not talk, but must be 
 still until he recovered some of his strength. 
 
112 The Aid-de-Camp. 
 
 For the first week Marshall suffered intensely from his wound ; hat 
 afterwards was more comfortable. General Beauregard visited him 
 every day. He had conceived a warm friendship for the young man, 
 and Marshall in his turn, fairly idolized the General. One day Gene- 
 ral Beauregard came to him and said : « 
 
 " Captain, you are now well enough to be moved. I expect that 
 you will be more comfortable in Richmond among your friends than 
 here. I have granted you a furlough until you recover. I expect to 
 be ordered to assume the command of the army of the Mississippi in a 
 short time, and you can joiu me when you get well." 
 
 Marshall expressed his gratitude, and accepted the offer. The nest 
 day, which was the last of the year, he started for Richmond. 
 
 He was joyfully welcomed by Mary and her parents. Old Mr. 
 Worthington had him carried to his house, and there he received the 
 kindest attentions of his dearest friends. In a few weeks he was able 
 to walk with the aid of crutches. The surgeon who atten^d him, ifi- 
 formed him that he would never recover the entire use or his leg — 
 that he was lame for life. This was a severe blow to him, for he had 
 hoped to continue in his country's service. Now he must leave it. 
 His career, which had opened so brilliantly, was now cut short. 
 
 One evening he was sitting by Mary, lamenting his misfottune, when 
 the beautiful girl said gently : 
 
 " I am deeply pained by your misfortune, but I will try to make yoii 
 so happy that you will not care for it." 
 
 " If you were my wife now," he exclaimed, enthusiastically, as he 
 drew her to him, and gazed upon her lovely features, " I would not 
 care for it." 
 
 " Then forget it at once," she murmured, gently, while her eyes 
 filled with a tender light, and she gazed softly and timidly into his 
 face. " I heard papa tell my mother to-day that he thought you had 
 won me fairly, and that we might now be married as soon as we 
 pleased." 
 
 Marshall caught her to his breast joyfully, and before he left her 
 that evening, the wedding day was fixed. 
 
 Marshall wrote to General Beauregard, informing him of his sur- 
 geon's announcement and his approaching marriage. 
 
 In due time he received a letter from the General sympathizing with 
 him in his affliction, congratulating him upon his good fortune, and as- 
 suring him of the General's unchanging friendship. 
 
 When Marshal! was well enough to walk with the aid of a can^, 
 there was a quiet marriage at Grace Church. The lovers were married 
 
The Aidde-Carnp. 113 
 
 without any parade or display, and returned home quietly, and soberly 
 and discreetly entered upon their new life. 
 
 On the morning after his marriage, Marshall received a package 
 from the President, and upon opening it, found that it contained a very 
 flattering appointment under the Government, which the President 
 tendered him "in return for his gallant services in the field." He ac- 
 cepted the position, and still retains it. He has not recovered from 
 his lameness, and never will. But he is now'happy in his own home, 
 and in the society of his charming wife. 
 
 •Mr. and Mrs. Worthington are still in Richmond, patiently awaiting 
 the close of the war, when they can return to their home in old Mary- 
 land. 
 
 Charlie Worthington went through the glorious campaign in the 
 A'allcy of Virginia under Jackson, and is now a Captain. 
 
 All parties are happy, and only pray for a just and honorable peace, 
 when the country, for which they have sacrificed so much, and which 
 they love so well, may take her place among the nations of the world, 
 a free, a glorious and a prosperous nation. 
 
 May that time come quickly. 
 
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