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WITH LEE IN vmamiA: 



a A. HENTY, 

Author of "With Clive in India;" " With Wolfe in Canada;" " The Lion of St. Mark; 
" Bonnie Prince Charlie;" " The Cat of Bubastes;" &c. 






Digitized by the Internet Archive 

in 2009 with funding from 

University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 


My dear Lads, 

The Great War between the Northern and Southern 
States of America possesses a peculiar interest to us, not only 
because it was a struggle between two sections of a people 
akin to us in race and language, but because of the heroic 
courage Avith which the weaker party, with ill-fed, ill-clad, 
ill-equipped regiments, for four years sustained the contest 
wdth an adversary not only possessed of immense numerical 
superiority, but having the command of the sea, and being 
able to draw its arms and munitions of war from all the manu- 
factories of Europe. Authorities still differ as to the rights of 
the case. The Confederates firmly believed that the States, 
having voluntarily united, retained the right of withdrawing 
from the Union when they considered it for their advantage 
to do so. The Northerners took the opposite point of view, 
and an appeal to arms became inevitable. During the first two 
years of the war the struggle was conducted without inflicting 
unnecessary hardship upon the general population. But later 
on the character of the war changed, and the Federal armies 
carried wide-spread destruction wherever they marched. Upon 
the other hand, the moment the struggle was over the conduct 
of the conquerors was marked by a clemency and generosity 
altogether unexampled in history, a complete amnesty being 
granted, and none, whether soldiers or civdlians, being made 
to suffer for their share in the rebellion. The credit of this 
magnanimous conduct was to a great extent due to Generals 



Grant and Sherman, the former of whom took upon himself 
the responsibility of granting terms which, although they were 
tinally ratified by his government, were at the time received 
with anger and indignation in the North. It was impossible, 
in the course of a single volume, to give even a sketch of the 
numerous and complicated operations of the war, and I have 
therefore confined myself to the central point of the great 
struggle — the attempts of tlie Northern armies to force their 
Avay to Eichmond, the capital of Mrginia and the heart of the 
Confederacy. Even in recounting the leading events in these 
campaigns, I have burdened my stor}' with as few details as 
possible, it being my object now, as always, to amuse as well as 
to give instruction in the facts of history. 

Yours sincerely, 




I. A Virginian Plantation, 9 

II. Buying a Slave, 28 

III. Aiding a Runaway, 47 

IV. Safely Back, 


V. Secession, ^■'- 

VI. Bull Run, 97 

VII. The "Meerimac" and the "Monitor," 119 

VIII. M^Clellan's Advance, 136 

IX. A Prisoner, 1^^ 

X. The Escape, 1^0 

XL Fugitives, 1^9 

XII. The Bush-whackers, 207 

XIII. Laid Up, 226 

XIV. Across the Border, 244 

XV. Fredericksburg, 264 

XVL The Search for Dinah, 282 

XVII. Chancellorsville, 303 

XVIII. A Perilous Undertaking, 326 

XIX. Free, 346 

XX. The End of the Struggle, 367 


The first Trial of Wildfire, Frontispiece. 18 

The Sale of Dinah, 45 

Tony appeals to Vincent, .....,, 52 

Vincent conveys Tony down the River, 62 

The Escape from the Prison at Elmira, 180 

The Fight in the Hotel Lobby, 185 

One! Two! 212 

The Last of Jonas Pearson, 301 

The Death op Jackson, . . t 339 

Vincent and Tony escape the Launch, 368 





WON'T have it, Pearson; so it's no use your talking. 

If I had my way you shouldn't touch any of the 

field hands. And when I get my way — that won't be 

so very long — I will take good care you sha'n't. But 

you sha'n't hit Dan." 

"He is not one of the regular house hands," was the reply; 
" and I shall appeal to Mrs. Wingfield as to whether I am to 
be interfered with in the discharge of my duties." 

" You may appeal to my mother if you hke, but I don't think 
that you will get much by it. I tell you you are a deal too fond 
of that whip, Pearson. It never was heard on the estate during 
my father's time, and it sha'n't be again when it comes to be mine, 
I can tell you. Come along, Dan; I want you at the stables." 
So saying, Vincent Wingfield turned on his heel, and followed 
by Dan, a negro lad of some eighteen years old, he walked off 
towards the house, leaving Jonas Pearson, the overseer of the 
Orangery Estate, looking after him with an evil expression of 


Vincent Wingfield was the son of an English officer, who, 
making a tour in the States, had fallen in love with and won 
the hand of Winifred Cornish, a rich Virginian heiress, and one 
of the belles of Richmond. After the marriage he had taken 
her home to visit his family in England ; but she had not been 
there many weeks before the news arrived of the sudden death 
of her father. A month later she and her husband returned to 
Virginia, as her presence was required there in reference to 
business matters connected with the estate, of which she was 
now the mistress. 

The Orangery, so called from a large conservatory built by 
Mrs. Wingfield's grandfather, was the family seat, and the 
broad lands around it were tilled by upAvards of two hundred 
slaves. There were in addition three other properties lying in 
different parts of the State. Here Vincent, with two sis- 
ters, one older and one younger than himself, had been born. 
When he was eight years old Major and Mrs. Wingfield had 
gone over with their children to England, and had left Vincent 
there for four years at school, his holidays being spent at the 
house of his father's brother, a country gentleman in Sussex. 
Then he had been sent for unexpectedly; his father saying that 
his health was not good, and that he should like his son to be 
with him. A year later his father died. 

Vincent was now nearly sixteen years old, and would upon 
coming of age assume the reins of power at the Orangery, of 
which his mother, however, would be the actual mistress as 
long as she lived. The four years Vincent had passed in the 
English school had done much to render the institution of 
slavery repugnant to him, and his father had had many serious 
talks with him during the last year of his life, and had shown 
him that there was a good deal to be said upon both sides of 
the subject. 

" There are good plantations and bad plantations, Vincent; 



and there are many more good ones than bad ones. There are 
brutes to be found everywhere. There are bad masters in the 
Southern States just as there are bad landlords in every Euro- 
pean country. But even from self-interest alone, a planter has 
greater reason for caring for the health and comfort of his 
slaves than an English farmer has in caring for the comfort of 
his labourers. Slaves are valuable property, and if they are 
over-worked or badly cared for they decrease in value. AVhereas 
if the labourer falls sick or is unable to do his work the farmer 
has simply to hire another hand. It is as much the interest of 
a planter to keep his slaves in good health and spirits as it is 
for a farmer to feed and attend to his horses properly. 

" Of the two, I consider that the slave with a fairly kind 
master is to the full as happy as the ordinary English labourer. 
He certainly does not work so hard, if he is ill he is carefully 
attended to, he is well fed, he has no cares or anxieties what- 
ever, and when old and past work he has no fear of the work- 
house staring him in the face. At the same time I am quite 
ready to grant that there are horrible abuses possible under the 
laws connected with slavery. 

" The selhng of slaves, that is to say, the breaking up of 
families and selling them separately, is horrible and abominable. 
If an estate were sold together with all the slaves upon it, there 
w^ould be no more hardship in the matter than there is when 
an estate changes hands in England, and the labourers upon it 
work for the new m.aster instead of the old. Were I to liberate 
all the slaves on this estate to-morrow and to send them North, 
I do not think that they would be in any way benefited by the 
change. They would still have to work for their living as they 
do now, and being naturally indolent and shiftless would pro- 
bably fare much worse. But against the selling of families 
separately and the use of the lash I set my face strongly. 

"At the same time, my boy, whatever your sentiments may 


be on this subject, you must keep your mouth closed as to 
them. Owing to the attempts of Northern Abolitionists, who 
have come down here stirring up the slaves to discontent, it 
is not advisable, indeed it is absolutely dangerous, to speak 
against slavery in the Southern States. The institution is here, 
and we must make the best we can of it. People here are very 
sore at the foul slanders that have been published by Northern 
writers. There have been many atrocities perpetrated un- 
doubtedly, by brutes who would have been brutes wherever 
they had been born; but to collect a series of such atrocities, 
to string them together into a story, and to hold them up, as 
Mrs. Beecher Stowe has, as a picture of slave-life in the Southern 
States, is as gross a libel as if anyone were to make a collection 
of all the wife-beatings and assaults of drunken English ruffians, 
and to publish them as a picture of the average life of English 

" Such libels as these have done more to embitter the two 
sections of America against each other than anything else. 
Therefore, Vincent, my advice to you is, be always kind to your 
slaves — not over-indulgent, because they are very like children 
and indulgence spoils them — but be at the same time firm and 
kind to them, and with other people avoid entering into any 
discussions or expressing any opinion with regard to slavery. 
You can do no good and you can do much harm. Take things 
as you find them and make the best of them. I trust that the 
time may come when slavery will be abolished; but I hope, for 
the sake of the slaves themselves, that when this is done it will 
be done gradually and thoughtfully, for otherwise it would 
inflict terrible hardship and suftering upon them as well as 
upon their masters." 

There were many such conversations between father and 
son, for feeling on the subject ran very high in the Southern 
States, and the former felt that it was of the utmost importance 


to his son that he should avoid taking any strong line in the 
matter. Among the old families of Virginia there was indeed 
far less feeling on this subject than in some of the other States. 
Knowing the good feeling that almost universally existed 
between themselves and their slaves, the gentry of Virginia 
regarded with contempt the calumnies of which they were the 
subject. Secure in the affection of their slaves, an affection 
which was afterwards abundantly proved during the course of 
the war, they scarcely saw the ugly side of the question. The 
worst masters were the smallest ones ; the man who owned six 
slaves was far more apt to extort the utmost possible work 
from them than the planter who owned three or four hundred. 
And the worst masters of all, were those who, having made a 
little money in trade or speculation in the towns, purchased a 
dozen slaves, a small piece of land, and tried to set up as 

In Virginia the life of the large planters was almost a patri- 
archal one; the indoor slaves were treated with extreme 
indulgence, and were permitted a far higher degree of freedom 
of remark and familiarity than is the case with servants in an 
English household. They had been the nurses or companions 
of the owners when children, had grown up with them, and 
regarded themselves, and were regarded by them, as almost 
part of the family. There was, of course, less connection 
between the planters and their field hands; but these also had 
for the most part been born on the estate, had as children 
been taught to look up to their white masters and mistresses, 
and to receive many little kindnesses at their hands. 

They had been cared for in sickness, and knew that they 
would be provided for in old age. Each had his little allot- 
ment, and could raise fruit, vegetables, and fowls for his own 
use or for sale in his leisure time. The fear of loss of employ- 
ment or the pressure of want, ever present to our English 


labourers, had never fallen upon them. The climate was a 
lovely one, and then' work far less severe than that of men 
forced to toil in cold and wet, winter and summer. The 
institution of slavery assuredly was capable of terrible abuses, 
and was marked in many instances by abominable cruelty and 
oppression; but taken all in all, the negroes on a well-ordered 
estate, under kind masters, were probably a happier class of 
people than the labourers upon any estate in Europe. 

Jonas Pearson had been overseer in the time of Major Wing- 
field, but his authority had at that time been comparatively 
small, for the Major himself personally supervised the whole 
working of the estate, and was greatly liked by the slaves, 
whose chief affections were, however, naturally bestowed upon 
their mistress, who had from childhood been brought up in 
their midst. Major Wingfield had not liked his overseer, but 
he had never had any ground to justify him making a change. 
Jonas, who was a Northern man, was always active and ener- 
getic; all Major Wingfield's orders were strictly and punctually 
carried out, and although he disliked the man, his employer 
acknowledged him to be an excellent servant. 

After the Major's death, Jonas Pearson had naturally ob- 
tained greatly increased power and authority. Mrs. Wingfield 
had great confidence in him, his accounts were always clear 
and precise, and although the profits of the estate were not 
quite so large as they had been in her husband's lifetime, this 
was always satisfactorily explained by a fall in prices, or by a 
part of the crops being aff"ected by the weather. She flattered 
herself that she herself managed the estate, and at times rode 
over it, made suggestions, and issued orders, but this was only 
in fits and starts; and although Jonas came up two or three 
times a week to the house nominally to receive her orders, he 
managed her so adroitly, that while she believed that every- 
thing was done by her directions^ she in reality only fol- 


lowed out the suggestions which, in the first place, came from 

She was aware, however, that there was less content and hap- 
piness on the estate than there had been in the old times. Com- 
plaints had reached her from time to time of overwork and 
harsh treatment. But upon inquiring into these matters, Jonas 
had always such plausible reasons to give that she was con- 
vinced he was in the right, and that the fault was among the 
slaves themselves, who tried to take advantage of the fact that 
they had no longer a master's eye upon them, and accordingly 
tried to shirk work, and to throw discredit upon the man who 
looked after the interests of their mistress; and so gradually 
Mrs. Wingfield left the management of affairs more and more 
in the hands of Jonas, and relied more implicitly upon him. 

The overseer spared no pains to gain the good-will of Vincent. 
When the latter declared that the horse he rode had not suffi- 
cient . life and spirit for him, Jonas had set inquiries on foot, 
and had selected for him a horse which, for speed and bottom, 
had no superior in the State. One of Mrs. Wingfield's acquaint- 
ances, however, upon hearing that she had purchased the ani- 
mal, told her that it was notorious for its vicious temper, and 
she spoke angrily to Jonas on the subject in the presence of 
Vincent. The overseer excused himself by saying that he had 
certainly heard that the horse was high spirited and needed a 
good rider, and that he should not have thought of selecting it 
had he not known that Mr. Vincent was a first-class rider, and 
would not care to have a horse that any child could manage. 

The praise was not undeserved. The gentlemen of Virginia 
were celebrated as good riders; and Major AVingfield, himself 
a cavalry man, had been anxious that Vincent should maintain 
the credit of his English blood, and had placed him on a pony 
as soon as he was able to sit on one. A pony had been kept 
for his use during his holidays at his uncles in England, and 


upon his return, Vincent had, except during the hours he spent 
with his father, almost lived on horseback, either riding about 
the estate, or paying visits to the houses of other planters. 

For an hour or more every day he exercised his father's 
horses in a paddock near the house, the Major being wheeled 
down in an easy-chair and superintending his riding. As these 
horses had little to do and were full of spirit, Vincent's powers 
were often taxed to the utmost, and he had many falls; but the 
soil was light, and he had learned the knack of falling easily, 
and from constant practice was able at the age of fourteen to 
stick on firmly even without a saddle, and was absolutely fear- 
less as to any animal he mounted. 

In the two years which had followed he had kept up his 
riding. Every morning after breakfast he rode to Eichmond, 
six miles distant, put up his horse at some stable there, and 
spent three hours at school; the rest of the day was his own, 
and he would often ride off with some of his school-fellows 
who had also come in from a distance, and not return home 
till late in the evening. Vincent took after his English father 
rather than his Virginian mother both in appearance and char- 
acter, and was likely to become as tall and brawny a man as 
the former had been when he first won the love of the rich 
Virginian heiress. 

He was full of life and energy, and in this respect offered a 
strong contrast to most of his school-fellows of the same age. 
For although splendid riders and keen sportsmen, the planters 
of Virginia were in other respects inclined to indolence; the 
result partly of the climate, partly of their being waited upon 
from childhood by attendants ready to carry out every wish. 
He had his father's cheerful disposition and good temper, 
together with the decisive manner so frequently acquired by 
a service in the army, and at the same time he had something 
of the warmth and enthusiasm of the Virginian character. 



Good rider as he was he was somewhat surprised at the horse 
the overseer had selected for him. It was certainly a splendid 
animal, with great bone and power; but there was no mistaking 
the expression of its turned-back eye, and the ears that lay 
almost flat on the head when anyone approached him. 

" It is a splendid animal, no doubt, Jonas," he said the first 
time he inspected it; " but he certainly looks as if he had a 
beast of a temper. I fear what was told my mother about 
him is no exaggeration; for Mr. Markham told me to-day, 
when I rode down there with his son, and said that we had 
bought Wildfire, that a friend of his had had him once, and 
only kept him for a week, for he was the most vicious brute 
he ever saw." 

" I am sorry I have bought him now, sir," Jonas said. " Of 
course I should not have done so if I had heard these things 
before; but I was told he was one of the finest horses in the 
country, only a little tricky, and as his price was so reasonable 
I thought it a great bargain. But I see now I was wrong, and 
that it wouldn't be right for you to mount him; so I think we 
had best send him in on Saturday to the market and let it go 
for what it will fetch. You see, sir, if you had been three or 
four years older it would have been difi'erent; but naturally at 
your age you don't like to ride such a horse as that." 

*' I sha'n't give it up without a trial," Vincent said shortly. 
" It is about the finest horse I ever saw; and if it hadn't been 
for its temper, it would be cheap at five times the sum you 
gave for it. I have ridden a good many bad-tempered 
horses for my friends during the last year, and the worst of 
them couldn't get me ofi*." 

"Well, sir, of course you will do as you please," Jonas said; 
"but please to remember if any harm comes of it that I strongly 
advised you not to have anything to do with it, and I did my 
best to dissuade you from trying." 

( 538 ) B 


Vincent nodded carelessly, and then turned to the black 

" Jake, get out that cavalry saddle of my father's, with the 
high cantle and pommel, and the rolls for the knees. It's like 
an arm-chair, and if one can't stick on on that, one deserves to 
be thrown." 

While the groom was putting on the saddle, Vincent stood 
patting the horse's head and talking to it, and then taking its 
rein led it down into the inclosure. 

" No, I don't want the whip," he said, as Jake offered him 
one. "I have got the spurs, and likely enough the horse's 
temper may have been spoilt by knocking it about with a 
whip; but we will try what kindness will do with it first." 

"Mee no like his look, Massa Vincent; he debble ob a hoss 

"I don't think he has a nice temper, Jake; but people learn 
to control their temper, and I don't see why horses shouldn't. 
At any rate we will have a try at it. He looks as if he ap- 
preciates being patted and spoken to already. Of course if 
you treat a horse- like a savage he will become savage. Now, 
stand out of the way." 

Gathering the reins together, and placing one hand upon 
the pommel, Vincent sprang into the saddle without touching 
the stirrups; then he sat for a minute or two patting the horse's 
neck. Wildfire, apparently disgusted at having allowed him- 
self to be mounted so suddenly, lashed out viciously two or 
three times, and then refused to move. For half an hour Vin- 
cent tried the effect of patient coaxing, but in vain. 

" Well, if you won't do it by fair means you must by foul," 
Vincent said at last, and sharply pricked him with his spurs. 

Wildfire sprang into the air, and then began a desperate 
series of efforts to rid himself of his rider, rearing and kicking 
in such quick succession that he seemed half the time in the 


air. Finding after a while that his efforts were unavailing, he 
subsided at last into sulky immovability. Again Vincent tried 
coaxing and patting, but as no success attended these efforts, 
he again applied the spur sharply. This time the horse re- 
sponded by springing forward like an arrow from a bow, 
dashed at the top of his speed across the inclosure, cleared 
the high fence without an effort, and then set off across the 

He had attempted to take the bit in his teeth, but with a 
sharp jerk as he drove the spurs in, Vincent had defeated his 
intention. He now did not attempt to check or guide him, 
but keeping a light hand on the reins let him go his own 
course. Vincent knew that so long as the horse was going full 
speed it could attempt no trick to unseat him, and he therefore 
sat easily in his saddle. 

For six miles Wildfire continued his course, clearing every 
obstacle without abatement to his speed, and delighting his 
rider with his power and jumping qualities. Occasionally, only 
when the course he was taking would have led him to obstacles 
impossible for the best jumper to surmount, Vincent attempted 
to put the slightest pressure upon one rein or the other, so as 
to direct it to an easier point. 

At the end of six miles the horse's speed began slightly to 
abate, and Vincent, abstaining from the use of his spurs, pressed 
it with his knees and spoke to it cheerfully, urging it forward. 
He now from time to time bent forward and patted it, and for 
another six miles kept it going at a speed almost as great as 
that at which it had started. Then he allowed it gradually to 
slacken its pace, until at last first the gallop and then the trot 
ceased, and it broke into a walk. 

"You have had a fine gallop, old fellow," Vincent said, pat- 
ting it; "and so have I. There's been nothing for you to lose 
your temper about, and the next road we come upon we will 


turn our face homewards. Half a dozen lessons like this, and 
then no doubt we shall be good friends." 

The journey home was performed at a walk, Vincent talking 
the greater part of the time to the horse. It took a good deal 
more than six lessons before Wildfire would start without a 
preliminary struggle with his master, but in the end kindness 
and patience conquered. Vincent often visited the horse in the 
stables, and, taking with him an apple or some pieces of sugar, 
spent some time there talking to and petting it. He never 
carried a whip, and never used the spurs except in forcing it 
to make its first start. 

Had the horse been naturally ill-tempered Vincent would 
probably have failed, but, as he happened afterwards to learn, 
its first owner had been a hot-tempered and passionate young 
planter, who, instead of being patient with it, had beat it 
about the head, and so rendered it restive and bad-tempered. 
Had Vincent not laid aside his whip before mounting it for 
the first time, he probably would never have effected a cure. 
It was the fact that the animal had no longer a fear of his old 
enemy the whip as much as the general course of kindness and 
good treatment that had effected the change in his behaviour. 

It was just when Vincent had established a good under- 
standing between himself and Wildfire that he had the alter- 
cation with the overseer, whom he found about to flog the 
young negro Dan. Pearson had sent the lad half an hour before 
on a message to some slaves at work at the other end of the 
estate, and had found him sitting on the ground watching a 
tree in which he had discovered a 'possum. That Dan deserved 
punishment was undoubted. He had at present no regular 
employment upon the estate. Jake, his father, was head of 
the stables, and Dan had made himself useful in odd jobs about 
the horses, and expected to become one of the regular stable 
hands. The overseer was of opinion that there were already 

Pearson's remonstrance. 21 

more negroes in the stable than could find employment, and 
had urged upon Mrs. Wingfield that one of the hands there 
and the boy Dan should be sent out to the fields. She, how- 
ever, refused. 

" I know you are quite right, Jonas, in what you say. But 
there were always four hands in the stable in my father's time, 
and there always have been up to now; and though I know 
they have an easy time of it, I certainly should not like to send 
any of them out to the fields. As to Dan, we will think about 
it. When his father was about his age he used to lead my 
pony when I first took to riding, and when there is a vacancy 
Dan must come into the stable. I could not think of sending 
him out as a field hand, in the first place for his father's sake, 
but still more for that of Vincent. Dan used to be told off to 
see that he did not get into mischief when he was a little boy, 
and he has run his messages and been his special boy since he 
came back. Vincent wanted to have him as his regular house 
servant; but it would have broken old Sam's heart if, after 
being my father's boy and my husband's, another had taken 
his place as Vincent's." 

And so Dan had remained in the stable, but regarding 
Vincent as his special master, carrying notes for him to his 
friends, or doing any odd jobs he might require, and spending 
no small portion of his time in sleep. Thus he was an object 
of special dislike to the overseer; in the first place because he 
had not succeeded in having his way with regard to him, and 
in the second because he was a useless hand, and the overseer 
loved to get as much work as possible out of every one on the 
estate. The message had been a somewhat important one, as 
he wanted the slaves for some work that was urgently required; 
and he lost his temper, or he would not have done an act which 
would certainly bring him into collision with Vincent. 

He was well aware that the lad did not really like him, and 


that his efforts to gain his good-will had failed, and he had 
foreseen that sooner or later there would be a struorgle for 
power between them. However, he relied upon his influence 
with Mrs. Wingfield, and upon the fact that she was the life- 
owner of the Orangery, and believed that he would be able to 
maintain his position even when Vincent came of age. Vincent 
on his side objected altogether to the overseer's treatment of 
the hands, of which he heard a good deal from Dan, and had 
already remonstrated with his mother on the subject. He, 
however, gained nothing by this. Mrs. Wingfield had replied 
that he was too young to interfere in such matters, that his 
English ideas would not do in Virginia, and that naturally the 
slaves were set against the overseer 3 and that now Pearson 
had no longer a master to support him, he was obliged to be 
more severe than before to enforce obedience. At the same 
time it vexed her at heart that there should be any severity 
on the Orangery Estate, where the best relations had always 
prevailed between the masters and slaves, and she had herself 
spoken to Jonas on the subject. 

He had given her the same answer that she had given her 
son : " The slaves will work for a master, Mrs. Wingfield, in a 
way they will not for a stranger. They set themselves against 
me, and if I were not severe with them I should get no work 
at all out of them. Of course, if you wish it, they can do as 
they like; but in that case they must have another overseer. 
I cannot see a fine estate going to ruin. I believe myself some 
of these Abolition fellows have been getting among them and 
doing them mischief, and that there is a bad spirit growing up 
among them. I can assure you that I am as lenient with them 
as is possible to be. But if they won't work I must make them, 
so long as I stay here." 

And so the overseer had had his way. She knew that the 
man was a good servant, and that the estate was kept in excel- 


lent order. After all, the severities of which she had heard 
complaints were by no means excessive; and it was not to be 
expected that a Northern overseer could rule entirely by kind- 
ness, as the owner of an estate could do. A change would be 
most inconvenient to her, and she would have difficulty in 
suiting herself so well another time. Besides, the man had 
been with her sixteen years, and was, as she believed, devoted 
to her interests. Therefore she turned a deaf ear to Vincent's 

She had always been somewhat opposed to his being left in 
England at school, urging that he would learn ideas there that 
would clash with those of the people among whom his life was 
to be spent; and she still considered that her views had been 
justified by the result. 

The overseer was the first to give his version of the story 
about Dan's conduct; for on going to the house Vincent found 
his sisters, Rosa and Annie, in the garden, having just returned 
from a two days' visit to some friends in Richmond, and stayed 
chatting with them and listening to their news for an hour, 
and in the meantime Jonas had gone in and seen Mrs. Wing- 
field and told his story. 

"I think, Mrs. Wingfield," he said when he had finished, 
" that it will be better for me to leave you. It is quite evident 
that I can have no authority over the hands if your son is to 
interfere when I am about to punish a slave for an act of gross 
disobedience and neglect. I found that all the tobacco required 
turning, and now it will not be done this afternoon owing to 
my orders not being carried out, and the tobacco will not 
improbably be injured in quality. My position is difficult 
enough as it is; but if the slaves see that instead of being 
supported I am thwarted by your son, my authority is gone 
altogether. . No overseer can carry on his work properly under 
such circumstances." 


" I will see to the matter, Jonas," Mrs. Wingfield said de- 
cidedly, " Be assured that you have my entire support, and I 
will see that my son does not again interfere." 

When, therefore, Vincent entered the house and began his 
complaint, he found himself cut short. 

"I have heard the story already, Vincent. Dan acted in 
gross disobedience, and thoroughly deserved the punishment 
Jonas was about to give him. The work of the estate cannot 
be carried on if such conduct is to be tolerated; and once for 
all, I will permit no interference on your part "with Jonas. If 
you have any complaints to make, come to me and make them; 
but you are not yourself to interfere in any way with the over- 
seer. As for Dan, I have directed Jonas that the next time he 
gives cause for complaint he is to go into the fields." 

Vincent stood silent for a minute, then he said quietly : 

"Very well, mother. Of course you can do as you like; but 
at any rate I will not keep my mouth shut when I see that 
fellow ill-treating the slaves. Such things were never done in 
my father's time, and I won't see them done now. You said 
the other day you would get me a nomination to West Point as 
soon as I was sixteen. I should be glad if you would do so. 
By the time I have gone through the school, you will perhaps 
see that I have been right about Jonas." 

So saying, he turned and left the room and again joined his 
sisters in the drawing-room. 

"I have just told mother that I will go to West Point, girls," 
he said. " Father said more than once that he thought it was 
the best education I could get in America." 

" But I thought you had made up your mind that you would 
rather stop at home, Vincent?" 

" So I had, and so I would have done, but mother and I 
differ in opinion. That fellow Jonas was going to flog Dan, 
and I stopped him this morning, and mother takes his part 


against me. You know, I don't like the way he goes on with 
the slaves. They are not half so merry and happy as they 
used to be, and I don't like it. We shall have one of them 
running away next, and that will be a nice thing on what used 
to be considered one of the happiest plantations in Virginia- 
I can't make mother out j I should have thought that she would 
have been the last person in the world to have allowed the 
slaves to be harshly treated." 

"I am sure we don't like Jonas more than you do, Vincent; 
but you see mamma has to depend upon him so much. No, 
I don't think she can like it; but you can't have everything 
you like in a man, and I know she thinks he is a very good 
overseer. I suppose she could get another?" 

Vincent said he thought that there could not be much diffi- 
culty about getting an overseer. 

" There might be a difficulty in getting one she could rely 
on so thoroughly," Eosa said. " You see a great deal must be 
left to him. Jonas has been here a good many years now, and 
she has learnt to trust him. It would be a long time before 
she had the same confidence in a stranger; and you may be 
sure that he would have his faults, though, perphaps, not the 
same as those of Jonas. I think you don't make allowance 
enough for mamma, Vincent. I quite agree with you as to 
Jonas, and I don't think mamma can like his harshness to the 
slaves any more than you do; but every one says what a diffi- 
culty it is to get a really trustworthy and capable overseer, and, 
of course, it is all the harder when there is no master to look 
after him." 

" Well, in a few years I shall be able to look after an over- 
seer," Vincent said. 

"You might do so, of course, Vincent, if you liked; but 
unless you change a good deal, I don't think your supervision 
would amount to a good deal. When you are not at school 


you are always on horseback and away, and we see little enough 
of you, and I do not think you are likely for a long time yet 
to give up most of your time to looking after the estate." 

" Perhaps you are right," Vincent said, after thinking for a 
minute; " but I think I could settle down too, and give most 
of my time to the estate, if I was responsible for it. I daresay 
mother is in a difficulty over it, and I should not have spoken 
as I did; I will go in and tell her so." 

Vincent found his mother sitting as he had left her. Al- 
though she had sided with Jonas, it was against her will; for 
it was grievous to her to hear complaints of the treatment of 
the slaves at the Orangery. Still, as Rosa had said, she felt 
every confidence in her overseer, and believed that he was an 
excellent servant. She was conscious that she herself knew 
nothing of business, and that she must therefore give her entire 
confidence to her manager. She greatly disliked the strictness 
of Jonas; but if, as he said, the slaves would not obey him 
without, he must do as he thought best. 

" I think I spoke too hastily, mother," Vincent said as he 
entered; "and I am sure that you would not wish the slaves to 
be ill-treated more than I should. I daresay Jonas means for 
the best." 

"I feel sure that he does, Vincent. A man in his position 
cannot make himself obeyed like a master. I wish it could be 
otherwise, and I will speak to him on the subject; but it will 
not do to interfere with him too much. A good overseer is 
not easy to get, and the slaves are always ready to take advan- 
tage of leniency. An easy master makes bad work, but an 
easy overseer would mean ruin to an estate. I am convinced 
that Jonas has our interests at heart, and I will tell him that 
I particularly wish that he will devise some other sort of pun- 
ishment, such as depriving men who won't work of some of 
their privileges instead of using the lash." 


" Thank you, mother. At any rate, he might be told that 
the lash is never to be used without first appealing to you." 

"I will see about it, Vincent, and talk it over with him." 
And with that Vincent was satisfied. 



ES. WINGFIELD did talk the matter over with the 
overseer, and things went on in consequence more 
smoothly. Vincent, however, adhered to his wish, 
and it was arranged that as soon as he could get 
a nomination he should go to West Point, which is to the 
American army what Sandhurst and Woolwich are to England. 
Before that could be done, however, a great political agitation 
sprang up. The slave States were greatly excited over the 
prospect of a Republican president being chosen, for the Re- 
publicans were to a great extent identified with the abolition 
movement; and public feeling, which had for some time run high, 
became intensified as the time approached for the election of a 
new president, and threats that if the Democrats were beaten 
and a Republican elected the slave States would secede from 
the Union, were freely indulged in. 

In Virginia, which was one of the most northern of the slave 
States, opinion was somewhat divided, there being a strong 
minority against any extreme measures being taken. Among 
Vincent's friends, however, who were for the most part the sons 
of planters, the Democratic feeling was very strongly in the 
ascendant, and their sympathies were wholly with the Southern 
States. That these had a right to secede was assumed by them 
as being unquestionable. 


But, in point of fact, there was a great deal to be said on 
both sides. The States which first entered the Union in 1776 
considered themselves to be separate and sovereign States, each 
possessing power and authority to manage its own affairs, and 
forming only a federation in order to construct a central power, 
and so to operate with more effect against the mother country. 
Two years later the constitution of the United States was 
framed, each State giving up a certain portion of its authority, 
reserving its own self-government and whatever rights were 
not specifically resigned. 

No mention was made in the constitution of the right of a 
State to secede from the Union, and while those who insisted 
that each State had a right to secede if it chose to do so 
declared that this right was reserved, their opponents aflBrmed 
that such a case could never have been contemplated. Thus 
the question of absolute right had never been settled, and it 
became purely one of force. 

Early in November, 1860, it became known that the election 
of Mr. Lincoln, the Eepublican candidate, was assured, and on 
the 9th of that month the representatives of South Carolina 
met at Charleston, and unanimously authorized the holding 
of a State convention to meet on the third week in December. 
The announcement caused great excitement, for it was con- 
sidered certain that the convention would pass a vote of seces- 
sion, and thus bring the debated question to an issue. Although 
opinion in Virginia was less unanimous than in the more 
southern States, it was generally thought that she would imi- 
tate the example of South Carolina. 

On the day following the receipt of the news, Vincent, who 
had ridden over to the plantations of several of his friends to 
talk the matter over, was returning homeward, when he heard 
the sound of heavy blows with a whip and loud curses, and a 
moment later a shrill scream in a woman's voice rose in the air 


Vincent checked his horse mechanically with an exclamation 
of anger. He knew but too well what was going on beyond the 
screen of shrubs that grew on the other side of the fence border- 
ing the road. For a moment he hesitated, and then muttering, 
" What's the use!" was about to touch the horse with the whip 
and gallop on, when the shriek again rose louder and more 
agonizing than before. With a cry of rage Vincent leapt from 
his horse, threw the reins over the top of the fence, climbed 
over it in a moment, and burst his way through the shrub- 

Close by a negro was being held by four others, two having 
hold of each wrist and holding his arms extended to full length, 
while a white lad, some two years Vincent's senior, was shower- 
ing blows with a heavy whip upon him. The slave's back was 
already covered with weals, and the blood was flowing from 
several places. A few yards distant a black girl, with a baby 
in her arms, was kneeling on the ground screaming for mercy 
for the slave. Just as Vincent burst through the bushes, the 
young fellow, irritated at her cries, turned round and delivered 
a tremendous blow with the whip on her bare shoulders. 

This time no cry came from her lips, but the slave, who had 
stood immovable while the punishment was being inflicted 
upon himself, made a desperate efi'ort to break from the men 
who held him. He was unsuccessful, but before the whip could 
again fall on the woman's shoulders, Vincent sprang forward, 
and seizing it, wrested it from the hands of the striker. 
With an oath of fury and surprise at this sudden interruption, 
the young fellow turned upon Vincent. 

"You are a coward and a blackguard, Andrew Jackson!" 
Vincent exclaimed, white with anger. " You are a disgrace to 
Virginia, you ruffian!" 

Without a word the young planter, mad with rage at this 
interference, rushed at Vincent; but the latter had learnt the 


use of his fists at his English school, and riding exercises had 
strengthened his muscles, and as his opponent rushed at him, 
he met him with a blow from the shoulder which sent him 
staggering back with the blood streaming from his lips. He 
again rushed forward, and heavy blows were exchanged; then 
they closed and grappled. For a minute they swayed to and 
fro; but although much taller, the young planter was no 
stronger than Vincent, and at last they came to the ground 
with a crash, Vincent uppermost, Jackson's head as he fell 
coming with such force against a low stump that he lay in- 

The contest had been so sudden and furious that none had 
attempted to interfere. Indeed the negroes were so astonished 
that they had not moved from the moment when Vincent made 
his appearance upon the scene. The lad rose to his feet. 

" You had better carry him up to the house and throw some 
water on him," he said to the negroes, and then turned to go 
away. As he did so, the slave who had been flogged broke 
from the others, who had indeed loosened their hold, and ran 
up to Vincent, threw himself on his knees, and taking the lad's 
hand pressed it to his lips. 

"I am afraid I haven't done you much good," Vincent said. 
"You will be none the better off for my interference; but I 
couldn't help it." So saying he made his way through the 
shrubbery, cleared the fence, mounted, and rode homeward. 

" I have been a fool," he said to himself as he rode along. 
"It will be all the worse for that poor beggar afterwards; still 
I could not help it. I wonder will there be any row about it. 
I don't much expect there will, the Jacksons don't stand well 
now, and this would not do them any good with the people 
round; besides I don't think Jackson would like to go into 
court to complain of being thrashed by a fellow a head shorter 
than himself. It's blackguards like him who give the Aboli- 

32 THE 

tionists a right to hold up the slave-owners as being tyrants 
and brutes," 

The Jacksons were new-comers in Virginia. Six years before, 
the estate, of which the Cedars, as their place was called, 
formed a part, was put up for sale. It was a very large one, 
and having been divided into several portions to suit buyers, 
the Cedars had been purchased by Jackson, who, having been 
very successful as a store-keeper at Charleston, had decided 
upon giving up the business and leaving South Carolina, and 
settlinsr down as a land-owner in some other State. His ante- 
cedents, however, were soon known at Richmond, and the old 
Virginian families turned a cold shoulder to the new-comer. 

Had he been a man of pleasant manners, he would gradually 
have made his way; but he was evidently not a gentleman. 
The habits of trade stuck to him, and in a very short time 
there were rumours that the slaves, whom he had bought with 
the property, found him a harsh and cruel master. This in 
itself would have been sufficient to bring him disrepute in 
Virginia, where as a rule the slaves were treated with great 
kindness, and indeed considered their position to be infinitely 
superior to that of the poorer class of whites. Andrew Jack- 
son had been for a few months at school with Vincent; he was 
unpopular there, and from the rumours current as to the treat- 
ment of the slaves on the estate, was known by the nickname 
of the "slave-driver." 

Had Vincent been the son of a white trader, or a small cul- 
tivator, he knew well enough that his position would be a very 
serious one, and that he would have had to ride to the border 
of the State with all speed. He would have been denounced 
at once as an Abolitionist, and would have been accused of 
stirring up the slaves to rebellion against their masters; a 
crime of the most serious kind in the Southern States. But 
placed as he was, as the heir of a great estate worked by slaves, 


such a cry could hardly be raised against him. He might 
doubtless be fined and admonished for interfering between a 
master and his slave; but the sympathy of the better classes 
in Virginia would be entirely with him. Vincent, therefore, was 
but little concerned for himself; but he doubted greatly whether 
his interference had not done much more harm than good to the 
slave and his wife, for upon them Andrew Jackson would vent 
his fury. He rode direct to the stables instead of alighting as 
usual at the door. Dan, who had been sitting in the verandah 
waiting for him, ran down to the stables as he saw him coming. 

"Give the horse to one of the others, Dan; I want to speak 
to you. Dan," he went on when he had walked with him a short 
distance from the stables, "I suppose you know some of the 
hands on Jackson's plantation." 

Dan grinned, for although there was not supposed to be any 
communication between the slaves on the different estates, it 
was notorious that at night they were in the habit of slipping 
out of their huts and visiting each other. 

"I know some ob dem, Marse Vincent. What you want 
ob dem? Berry bad master, Marse Jackson. Wust master 

Vincent related what had happened, to Dan's intense delight. 

"Now, Dan," he went on, "I am afraid that after my inter- 
ference they will treat that poor fellow and his wife worse 
than before. I want you to find out for me what is going on 
at Jackson's. I do not know that I can do anything, however 
badly they treat them; but I have been thinking that if they 
ill-treat them very grossly, I will get together a party of fifteen 
or twenty of my friends, and we will go in a body to Jackson's, 
and warn him that if he behaves with cruelty to his slaves, 
we will make it so hot for him that he will have to leave the 
State. I don't say that we could do anything; but as we should 
represent most of the large estates round here, I don't think 

(538) c 


old Jackson and his son would like being sent to Coventry. 
The feeling is very strong at present against ill-treatment of 
the slaves. If these troubles lead to war almost all of us will 
go into the army, and we do not like the thought of the possi- 
bility of troubles among the hands when the whites are all away." 

" I will find out all about it for you to-night, sah. I don't 
suspect dat dey will do nuffin to-day. Andrew Jackson too 
sick after dat knock against de tump. He keep quiet a day 
or two." 

" Well, Dan, you go over to-night and find out all about it. 
I expect I had better have left things alone, but now I have 
interfered I shall go on with it." 

Mrs. Wingfield was much displeased when Vincent told her 
at dinner of his incident at Jackson's plantation, and even his 
sisters were shocked at this interference between a master and 
his slave. 

" You will get yourself into serious trouble with these fanci- 
ful notions of yours," Mrs. Wingfield said angrily. "You know 
as well as I do how easy it is to get up a cry against any one 
as an Abolitionist, and how difficult to disprove the accusation; 
and just at present, when the passions of every man in the 
South are inflamed to the utmost, such an accusation will be 
most serious. In the present instance there does not seem 
that there is a shadow of excuse for your conduct. You simply 
heard cries of a slave being flogged. You deliberately leave the 
road and enter these people's plantation, and interfere without, 
so far as I can see, the least reason for doing so. You did not 
inquire what the man's offence was; and he may, for aught you 
know, have half murdered his master. You simply see a slave 
being flogged, and you assault his owner. If the Jacksons lay 
complaints against you, it is quite probable that you may have 
to leave the State. What on earth can have influenced you 
to act in such a mad- brained way?" 


"I did not interfere to prevent his flogging the slave, mother, 
but to prevent his flogging the slave's wife, which was pure 
wanton brutality. It is not a question of slavery one way or 
the other. Anyone has a right to interfere to put a stop to 
brutality. If I saw a man brutally treating a horse or a dog, 
I should certainly do so; and if it is right to interfere to save 
a dumb animal from brutal ill-treatment, surely it must be 
justifiable to save a woman in the same case. I am not an 
Abolitionist. That is to say, I consider that slaves, on a properly 
managed estate like ours for instance, are just as well off as are 
the labourers on an estate in Europe; but I should certainly 
like to see laws passed to protect them from ill-treatment. Why, 
in England there are laws against cruelty to animals; and a 
man who brutally flogged a dog or a horse would get a month's 
imprisonment with hard labour. I consider it a disgrace to us 
that a man may here ill-treat a human being worse than he 
might in England a dumb animal." 

"You know, Vincent," his mother said more cjuietly, "that 
I object as much as you do to the ill-treatment of the slaves, 
and that the slaves here, as on all well-conducted plantations in 
Virginia, are well treated; but this is not a time for bringing 
in laws or carrying out reforms. It is bad enough to have 
scores of Northerners doing their best to stir up mischief be- 
tween masters and slaves without a Southern gentleman mixing 
himself up in the matter. We have got to stand together as 
one people and to protect our State rights from interference." 

"I am just as much in favour of State rights as anyone 
else, mother; and if, as seems likely, the present quarrel is to 
be fought out, I hope I shall do my best for Virginia as well 
as other fellows of my own age. But just as I protest against 
any interference by the Northerners with our laws, I say that we 
ought to amend our laws so as not to give them the shadow of 
an excuse for interference. It is brutes like the Jacksons who 

36 dan's news. 

have afforded the materials for libels like Uncle Tom's Cabin 
upon us as a people; and I can't say that I am a bit sorry for 
having given that young Jackson what he deserved." 

"Well, I hope there will be no trouble come of it," Mrs. 
Wingfield said. "I shouldn't think the Jacksons would like 
the exposure of their doings which would be caused by bringing 
the matter into court; but if they do, you may be quite sure 
that a jury in Eichmond at the present time would find against 

" I don't suppose that they Avill do anything, mother. But 
if they must, they must; and I don't suppose anything serious 
will come of it any way." 

The next morning Vincent went down early to the stables. 
A.S he approached them Dan came out to meet him. 

"Well, Dan, what's your news?" 

*' Berry great bobbery ober at Jackson's last night, Massa 
Vincent. Fust of all I crept round to de huts ob de field 
hands. Dey all know nuffin about it; but one of dem he goes 
off and gets to hab a talk with a gal employed in de house 
who was in de habit of slipping out to see him. She say 
when de young un war carried in de old man go on furious; 
he bring suit against you, he hab you punished berry much — 
no saying what he not going to do. After a time de young un 
come round, he listen to what de ould man say for some time; 
den he answer: 'No use going on like dat. Set all de county 
family against us if we have suit. As to dat infernal young 
villain, me pay him out some other way.' Den de old man say 
he cut de flesh off de bones ob dat nigger; but de young one 
say: Mustn't do dat. You sure to hear about it, and make 
great bobbery. Find some oder way to punish him. Den 
dey talk together for some time, but girl not hear any more." 

"Well, then, there will be no suit anyhow," Vincent said. 
"As to paying me out some other way, I will look after myself, 


Dan. I believe that fellow Jackson is capable of anything, and 
I will be on the look-out for him." 

" Be sure you do, Marse Vincent. You ride about a great 
deal, dat fellow bery like take a shot at you from behind 
tree. Don't you go near dat plantation, or sure enuff trouble 

" I will look out, Dan. There is one thing, I always ride 
fast; and it wants a very good shot to hit one at a gallop. I 
don't think they will try that; for if he missed, as he would be 
almost sure to do, it would be a good deal worse for him than 
this affair would have been had he brought it into court. 
You keep your ears open, Dan, and find out how they are 
thinking of punishing that poor fellow for my interference on 
his behalf." 

After breakfast a negro arrived with a note for Mrs. Wing- 
field from Mr. Jackson, complaining of the unwarrantable and 
illegal interference by her son on behalf of a slave who was 
being very properly punished for gross misconduct; and of 
the personal assault upon his son. The writer said that he was 
most reluctant to take legal proceedings against a member of 
so highly respected a family, but that it was impossible that 
he could submit to such an outrage as this. 

Although Mrs. Wingfield had expressed her disapproval of 
Vincent's conduct on the evening before, there was no trace of 
that feeling in her reply to this letter. She wrote in the 
third person, coldly acknowledging the receipt of Mr. Jackson's 
letter, and saying that she had heard from her son of his inter- 
ference to put a stop to one of those brutal scenes which 
brought discredit upon the Southern States, and that she con- 
sidered he had most rightly punished Mr. Jackson, jun., 
for his inhuman and revolting conduct; that she was perfectly 
aware the interference had been technically illegal, but that 
her son was fully prepared to defend his conduct if called 

38 "what's the matter between you?" 

upon to do so in the courts, and to pay any fine that might be 
inflicted for his suff'ering himself to be carried away by his 
righteous indignation. She ended by saying that as Mr. 
Jackson was a stranger in Virginia, he was perhaps not aware 
that the public sentiment of that State was altogether opposed 
to such acts of brutality as that of which his son had been 

"What have you been doing to that fellow Andrew Jackson ?" 
one of Vincent's friends, a young fellow two years older than 
himself, said to him a few days later. " There were a lot of us 
talking over things yesterday, in Richmond, and he came up 
and joined in. Something was said about Abolitionists, and 
he said that he should like to see every Abolitionist in the 
State strung up to a tree. He is always pretty violent, as you 
know; but on the present occasion he went further than usual, 
and then went on to say that the worst and most dangerous 
Abolitionists were not Northern men but Southerners, who 
Avere traitors to their State. He said : ' For example, there is 
that young Wingfield. He has been to England, and has come 
back with his heart filled with Abolitionist notions;' and that 
such opinions at the present time were a danger to the State. 

" Two or three of us took the matter up, as you might guess, 
and told him he had better mind what he was saying or it 
would be the worse for him. Harry Furniss went so far as to 
tell him that he was a liar, and that if he didn't like that he 
would have satisfaction in the usual way. Master Jackson 
didn't like it, but muttered something and slunk off. What's 
the matter between you?" 

" I should not have said anything about it," Vincent replied, 
" if Jackson had chosen to hold his tongue; but as he chooses 
to go about attacking me, there is no reason why I should 
keep the matter secret." And he then related what had taken 


The young Virginian gave a low whistle. 

"I don't say I blame you, Wingfield; but I tell you, you 
might have got yourself into an awful mess if the Jacksons had 
chosen to take it up. You know how hot the feeling is at present, 
and it is a serious matter at any time to interfere between a 
master and his slaves in the Southern States. Of course among 
us our feelings would be all against Jackson ; but among the 
poorer class of whites, who have been tremendously excited by 
the speeches, both in the North and here, the cry of Abolitionist 
at the present moment is like a red rag to a bull. However, I 
understand now the fellow's enmity to you. 

" None of us ever liked him when he was at school with us. 
He is an evil-tempered brute, and I am afraid you may have 
some trouble with him. If he goes about talking as he did to 
us, he would soon get up a feeling against you. Of course it 
would be nonsense to openly accuse a member of an old Vir- 
ginian family of being an Abolitionist; but it would be easy 
enough to set a pack of the rough classes of the town against 
you, and you might get badly mauled if they caught you 
alone. The fellow is evidently a coward, or he would have 
taken up what Furniss said; but a coward who is revengeful 
is a good deal more dangerous than an open foe. However, I 
will talk it over with some of the others, and we will see if we 
can't stop Andrew Jackson's mouth." 

The result of this was that the next day half a dozen of 
Vincent's friends wrote a joint letter to Andrew Jackson, say- 
ing that they regarded his statement respecting Vincent as 
false and caluminous, and that if he repeated them they would 
jointly and severally hold him responsible; and that if, as a 
result of such accusations, any harm happened to Vincent, they 
should know where to look for the originator of the mischief, 
and punish him accordingly. 

" You should be more careful, Andrew," his father said, as. 

40 "it's an infamous shaivie." 

white with fury, he showed him his letter. " It was you who 
were preaching prudence the other day, and warning me against 
taking steps that would set all the whole family against us; 
and now, you see, you have been letting your tongue run, and 
have drawn this upon yourself. Keep quiet for the present, 
my son; all sorts of things may occur before long, and you will 
get your chance. Let this matter sleep for the present." 

A day or two later when Vincent went down to the stables 
he saw that Dan had something to tell him, and soon found out 
that he wished to speak to him alone. 

"What is your news, Dan?" 

" I heard last night, Marse Vincent, that old man Jackson is 
going to sell Dinah; dat de wife ob de man dey flogged." 

"They are going to sell her!" Vincent repeated indignantly. 
"What are they going to do that for?" 

" To punish Tony, sah. Dar am no law against dar selling 
her. I hear dat dey are going to sell two oder boys, so 
dat it cannot be said dat dey do it on purpose to spite Tony. 
I reckon, sah, dey calculate dat when dey sell his wife Tony 
get mad and run away, and den when dey catch him again dey 
flog him pretty near to death. Folk always do dat with 
runaway slaves; no one can say nuffin agin dem for dat." 

"It's an infamous shame that it should be lawful to separate 
man and wife," Vincent said. " However, we will see what we 
can do. You manage to pass the word to Tony to keep up 
his spirits, and not let them drive him to do anything rash. 
Tell him I will see that his wife does not get into bad hands. 
I suppose they will sell the baby too?" 

"Yes, Marse Vincent. Natural the baby will go wid de 

Vincent watched the list of advertisements of slaves to be 
sold, and a day or two later saw a notice to the effect that 
Dinah Morris, age 22, with a male baby at her breast, would 


be sold on the following Saturday. He mounted his horse and 
rode into Eichmond. He had not liked to speak to his mother 
on the subject, for she had not told him of the letter she had 
written to Jackson ; and he thought that she might disapprove 
of any interference in the matter, consequently he went down 
to Mr. Eenfrew, the family solicitor. 

"Mr. Eenfrew," he said, "I want some money; can you 
lend it me?" 

" You want money," the solicitor said in surprise. " What 
on earth do you want money for? and if you want it, why don't 
you ask your mother for it? How much do you want?" 

"I don't know exactly. About eight hundred dollars, I should 
think; though it may be a thousand. I want to buy a slave." 

" You want to buy a slave!" repeated Mr. Eenfrew. " What 
on earth do you want to buy a slave for? You have more than 
you want now at the Orangery." 

" It's a slave that man Jackson is going to sell next Saturday, 
on purpose to spite the poor creature's husband and drive him 
to desperation," and Vincent then repeated the whole story of 
the circumstances that had led up to the sale. 

" It is all very abominable on the part of these Jacksons," 
Mr, Eenfrew said, " but your interference was most imprudent, 
my young friend; and, as you see, it has done harm rather than 
good. If you are so quixotic as to become the champion of 
every ill-treated slave in the State, your work is pretty well 
cut out for you." 

"I know that, sir," Vincent replied, smiling, "and I can 
assure you I did not intend to enter upon any such crusade; 
but, you see, I have wrongly or rightly mixed myself up in 
this, and I want to repair the mischief which, as you say, I 
have caused. The only way I can see is to buy this negress 
and her baby." 

" But I do not see that you will carry out your object if you 


do, Vincent. She will be separated just as much from her 
husband if you buy her as if anyone else does. He is at one 
plantation and she is at another, and were they ten miles apart 
or a hundred, they are equally separated." 

"I quite see that, Mr. Renfrew; but, at least, she will be 
kindly treated, and his mind will be at rest on that score. 
Perhaps some day or other the Jacksons may put him up for 
sale, and then I can buy him, and they will be reunited. At 
any rate, the first step is to buy her. Can you let me have the 
money? My mother makes me a very good allowance." 

"And I suppose you spend it," the lawyer interrupted. 

"Well, yes, I generally spend it; but then, you see, when I 
come of age I come in for the outlying estates." 

" And if you die before, or get shot, or any other accident 
befalls you," Mr. Renfrew said, "they go to your sisters. 
However, one must risk something for a client, so I will lend 
you the money. I had better put somebody up to bid for 
you, for after what has happened the Jacksons would probably 
not let her go if they knew that you were going to be the 

" Thank you very much," Vincent said warmly; " it will be 
a great weight off my mind," and with a light heart he rode 
back to the Orangery. 

Vincent said nothing during the next two days to any of his 
friends as to the course the Jacksons were taking in selling 
Tony's wife; for he thought that if the news got about, some 
of his friends who had heard the circumstances might go down 
to the auction and make such a demonstration that Jackson 
would be obliged to withdraw Dinah from the sale, in which 
case he would no doubt dispose of her privately. On the 
Saturday he mounted his horse and rode into Richmond, telling 
Dan to meet him there. At the hour the sale was announced 
he went to the yard where it was to take place. 


This was a somewhat quiet and secluded place; for although 
the sale of slaves was permitted by law in Virginia, at any rate 
these auctions were conducted quietly and with as little pub- 
licity as possible. For although the better classes still regarded 
slavery as a necessary institution, they were conscious that 
these sales, involving as they did the separation of families, 
were indefensible, and the more thoughtful would gladly have 
seen them abolished, and a law passed forbidding the sale of 
negroes save as part and parcel of the estate upon which they 
worked, an exception only being made in the case of gross 
misconduct. Many of the slave-owners, indeed, forbade all 
flogging upon their estates, and punished refractory slaves, in 
the first place, by the cutting off of the privileges they enjoyed 
in the way of holidays, and if this did not answer, threatened 
to sell them — a threat which was, in the vast majority of cases, 
quite sufficient to ensure good behaviour; for the slaves were 
well aware of the difference between life in the well-managed 
establishments in Virginia and that in some of the other 
Southern States. Handing his horse to Dan, Vincent joined 
a knot of four or five of his acquaintances who had strolled in 
from mere curiosity. 

There were some thirty or forty men in the yard, a few of 
whom had come in for the purpose of buying; but the great 
majority had only attended for the sake of passing an idle hour. 
Slaves had fallen in value; for although all in the South pro- 
fessed their confidence that the law would never attempt by 
force of arms to prevent their secession, it was felt that 
slave property would in future be more precarious, for the 
North would not improbably repeal the laws for the arrest of 
fugitive slaves, and consequently all runaways who succeeded 
in crossing the border would be lost to their masters. 

Upon the other side of the yard Vincent saw Andrew Jack- 
son talking to two or three men who were strangers to him, 

44 LOT 6. 

and who, he guessed, were buj^ers from some of the more 
southern States. There were in all twelve lots to be disposed 
of. Of these two or three were hands who were no longer fit 
for field work, and who were bought at very low prices by men 
who owned but a few acres of land, and who could utilize them 
for odd jobs requiring but little strength. Then there was a 
stir of attention. Dinah Moore took her stand upon the plat- 
form, with her baby in her arms. The message which Dan had 
conveyed from Vincent to her husband had given her some 
hope, and though she looked scared and frightened as she 
clasped her babe to her breast, she was not filled with such 
utter despair as would otherwise have been the case. 

The auctioneer stated the advantages of the lot in the same 
business like tone as if he had been selling a horse: 

"Lot 6. Negro wench, Dinah; age 22; with male child. 
Strong and well made, as you see, gentlemen; fit for field work, 
or could be made a useful hand about a house; said to be handy 
and good-tempered. Now, gentlemen, what shall we say for 
this desirable lot?" 

One of the men standing by Andrew Jackson bid a hundred 
dollars. The bid was raised to a hundred and fifty by a rough- 
looking fellow standing in front of the platform. For some 
time the bidding was confined to these two, and it rose until it 
reached seven hundred and fifty, at which point the man near 
the platform retired, and there was a pause. 

Vincent felt uncomfortable. He had already been round to 
Mr. Renfrew, who had told him that he had deputed an agent 
to buy; and until the man near the platform stopped he had 
supposed that he was the solicitor's agent. 

" Now, gentlemen," the auctioneer said, " surely you are not 
going to let this desirable piece of property go for seven fifty? 
She would be cheap at double the price. I have sold worse 
articles for three thousand." 

"that's enough for me." 45 

" I will go another twenty-five dollars," a tall man in home- 
spun and a broad planter's straw hat said quietly. 

The contest now recommenced, and by bids of twenty-five 
dollars at a time the amount was raised to twelve hundred 
and fifty dollars. 

"That's enough for me," the man standing by Andrew 
Jackson said; "he may have her at twelve fifty, and dear 
enough, too, as times go." 

"Will anyone else make an offer ^" the auctioneer asked. 
There was no response, and the hammer fell. 

"What nameV' 

"Nathaniel Forster," the tall man said; and advancing to 
the table he counted out a roll of notes and gave them to the 
auctioneer, who handed to him a formal note certifying to his 
having duly and legally purchased Dinah Moore and her infant, 
late the property of Andrew Jackson, Esquire, of the Cedars, 
State of Virginia. 

The purchaser had evidently made up his mind beforehand 
to secure the lot, for he handed a parcel he had been holding 
to Dinah, and said briefly, " Slip those things on, my lass." 

The poor girl, who had before been simply attired in the 
scantiest of petticoats, retired to a corner of the yard, and 
speedily came forward again dressed in > neat cotton gown. 
There were several joking remarks made by the bystanders, but 
Dinah's new master took no notice of them, but with a motion 
of his hand to her to follow him, walked out of the yard. 

A minute later Vincent followed, and although he had no 
doubt that the man was the agent Mr. Renfrew had employed, 
he did not feel thoroughly satisfied until he saw them enter 
the lawyer's office. He quickly followed. They had just 
entered the private room of Mr. Renfrew. 

" That's right, Wingfield," the lawyer said. " You see we 
have settled the business satisfactorily, and I think you have 


got a fairly cheap bargain. Just wait a moment and we will 
complete the transaction." 

Dinah gave a start as Vincent entered, but with the habitual 
self-repression of a slave, she stood quietly in the corner to 
which she had withdrawn at the other end of the room. 

The lawyer was busy drawing up a document, and touching 
the bell, ordered a clerk to go across to Mr. Rawlins, justice 
of the peace, and ask him to step across the road. 

In a minute Mr. Rawlins entered. 

" I want you to witness a deed of sale of a slave," Mr. Ren- 
frew said. *'Here are the particulars : 'Nathaniel Forster sells to 
Vincent Wingfield his slave, Dinah Moore and her male infant 
for the sum of fourteen hundred dollars.' These are the parties. 
Forster sign this receipt." 

The man did so. The justice put his signature as witness 
to the transaction, dropped into his pocket the fee of five 
dollars that the lawyer handed to him, and without a word 
strolled out again. 

" There, Dinah," Mr. Renfrew said, " Mr. Wingfield is now 
your master." 

The girl ran forward, fell on her knees before Vincent, seized 
his hand and kissed it, sobbing out her thanks as she did so. 

"There, that will do, Dinah," the lawyer said, seeing that 
Vincent was confused by her greeting. "I think you are a 
lucky girl, and have made a good exchange for the Orangery 
instead of the Cedars. I don't suppose you will find Mr. AVing- 
field a very hard master. What he is going to do with you I 
am sure I don't know." 

Vincent now went to the door and called in Dan and told 
him to take Dinah to the Orangery, then mounting his horse 
he rode off home to prepare his mother for the reception of 
his new purchase. 



ELL, you are an extraordinary boy, Vincent," Mrs. 
Wingfield said as her son told her the story, while 
his sisters burst into fits of laughter at the idea of 
Vincent owning a female slave with a baby. " Why 
did you not tell me that you wanted the money instead of 
going to Mr. Renfrew? I shall tell him I am very angry with 
him for letting you have it for such a purpose." 

*'I was not sure whether you would let me have it, mother; 
and if you had refused, and I had got it afterwards from Mr. 
Renfrew, I should not have liked to bring her home here." 

"That would have been fun," Annie said. "Fancy Vincent's 
troubles with a female slave on his hands and nowhere to put 
her. What would you have done, Vincent?" 

" I suppose I could have got a home for her somewhere," 
Vincent said quietly. " I don't think there would have been 
any difficulty about that. Still I am glad I didn't have to do so, 
and one slave more or less can make no difference here." 

"Not at all," Mrs. Wingfield said; "I daresay Chloe will 
find something for her to do in the way of washing, and such 
other light work that she is fit for about the house. It is not 
that, but it is years since a slave was brought into the Orangery; 
never since I can remember. We raise more than we want 
ourselves; and when I see all those children about, I wonder 


sometimes what on earth we are to find for them all to do. 
Still, it was a scandalous thing of that man Jackson selling the 
girl to punish her husband ; and as you say it was your foolish 
interference in the matter that brought it about, so I do not 
know that I can blame you for doing what you can to set the 
matter straight. Still, except that the knowledge that she is 
here and will be well treated will be a comfort to the man, I 
do not see that he will be much the better off, unless indeed 
the Jacksons should try to sell him also, in which case I sup- 
pose you would want to buy him." 

" I am afraid they won't do that, mother. Still, somehow or 
other, in time they may come together again." 

" I don't see how they can, Vincent. However we need not 
think of that now. At any rate I hope there will be no further 
opportunity for your mixing yourself up in this business. You 
have made two bitter enemies now, and although I do not see 
that such people as these can do you any harm, it is always 
well not to make enemies, especially in times like. these when 
no one can foresee exactly what may occur." 

And so Dinah Moore became an inmate of the Orangery; 
and though the girls had laughed at their brother, they were 
very kind to her when she arrived with Dan, and made much 
of her and of her baby. The same night Dan went over to the 
Cedars, and managed to have an interview with Tony, and to 
tell him that his wife had been bought by Vincent. The joy 
of the negro was extreme. The previous message had raised his 
hopes that Vincent would succeed in getting her bought by 
some one who would be kind to her, but he knew well that 
she might nevertheless fall to the lot of some higher bidder 
and be taken hundreds of miles away, and that he might never 
again get news of her whereabouts. He had then suffered 
terrible anxiety all day, and the relief of learning that Vin- 
cent himself had bought her, and that she was now installed 


as a house servant at the Orangery, but a few miles away, was 
quite overpowering, and for some minutes he could only gasp 
out his joy and thankfulness. He could hope now that when 
better times- came he might be able to steal away some night 
and meet her, and that some day or other, though how he 
could not see, they might be reunited. The Jacksons remained 
in ignorance that their former slave was located so near to 

It was for this reason that Mr. Eenfrew had instructed his 
agent to buy her in his own name instead of that of Vincent; 
and the Jacksons, having no idea of the transfer that had sub- 
sequently taken place, took no further interest in the matter, 
believing that they had achieved their object of torturing 
Tony, and avenging upon him the humiliation that Andrew 
had suffered at Vincent's hands. Had they questioned their 
slaves, and had these answered them truly, they would have 
discovered the facts. For although Tony himself said no word 
to anyone of what he had learnt from Dan, the fact that 
Dinah was at the Orangery was speedily known among the 
slaves ; for the doings at one plantation were soon conveyed to 
the negroes on the others by the occasional visits which they 
paid at night to each other's quarters, or to some common 
rendezvous far removed from interruption. 

Occasionally Tony and Dinah met. Dan would come up late 
in the evening to the house, and a nod to Dinah would be 
sufficient to send her flying down the garden to a clump of 
shrubs, where he would be waiting for her. At these stolen 
meetings they were perfectly happy; for Tony said no word to 
her of the misery of his life — how he was always put to the 
hardest work and beaten on the smallest pretext, how in fact 
his life was made so unendurable that the idea of running 
away and taking to the swamps was constantly present to him. 

As to making his way north, it did not enter his mind as 

( 538 ) D 


possible. Slaves did indeed at times succeed in travelling 
through the Northern States and making their way to Canada, 
but this was only possible by means of the organization known 
as the underground railway, an association consisting of a 
number of good people who devoted themselves to the purpose, 
giving shelter to fugitive slaves during the day, and then pass- 
ing them on to the next refuge during the night. For in the 
Northern States as well as the Southern any negro unprovided 
with papers showing that he was a free man was liable to be 
arrested and sent back to the South a prisoner, large rewards 
being given to those who arrested them. 

As he was returning from one of these interviews with his 
wife, Tony was detected by the overseer, who was strolling 
about round the slave's quarters, and was next morning flogged 
until he became insensible. So terrible was the punishment, 
that for some days he was unable to walk. As soon as he could 
get about he was again set to work, but the following morning 
he was found to be missing. Andrew Jackson at once rode 
into Eichmond, and in half an hour placards and handbills 
were printed offering a reward for his capture. These were 
not only circulated in the neighbourhood, but were sent off to 
all the towns and villages through which Tony might be ex- 
pected to pass in the endeavour to make his way north. Vin- 
cent soon learnt from Dan what had taken place. 

"You have no idea, I suppose, Dan, as to which way he is 
likely to go] " 

Dan shook his head. 

" Me suppose, massa, dat most likely he gone and hidden in 
de great woods by de James River. Berry difficult to find him 

"Difficult to find him, no doubt," Vincent agreed. " But he 
could not stop there long — he would find nothing to eat in the 
woods; and though he might perhaps support himself for a 


time on corn or roots from the clearings scattered about through 
the James Peninsula, he must sooner or later be caught." 

*' Dar are runaways in de woods now, Marse Vincent," Dan 
said; "some ob dem hab been dar for months." 

"But how do they live, Dan?" 

"Well, sar, you see dey hab friends on de plantations, and 
sometimes at night one of de slaves will steal away wid a 
basket ob yams and corn-cakes and oder things and put dem 
down in a certain place in de forest, and next morning, sure 
enough, dey will be gone. Dangerous work dat, massa; be- 
cause if dey caught with food, it known for sure dat dey carry 
it to runaway, and den you know dey pretty well flog the 
life out of dem." 

"Yes, I know, Dan; it is a very serious matter hiding a run- 
away slave, and even a white man would be very heavily pun- 
ished, and perhaps lynched, if caught in the act. Well, make 
what inquiries you can among the slaves, and find out if you can 
whether any of those Jacksons have an idea which way Tony 
has gone. But do not go yourself on to Jackson's place; if 
you were caught there now it would be an awkward matter 
for both of us." 

"I will find out, Marse Vincent; but I don't s'pose Tony 
said a word to any of the others. He know well enough dat 
de Jacksons question ebery one pretty sharp, and perhaps 
flog dem all round to find out if dey know anything. He 
keep it to himself about going away, for suah." 

The Jacksons kept up a vigorous hunt after their slave, and 
day after day parties of men ranged through the woods, but 
without discovering any traces of him. Blood-hounds were 
employed the first day, but before these could be fetched from. 
Eichmond the scent had grown cold; for Tony had gone off as 
soon as the slaves had been shut up for the night, and had 
directly he left the hut wrapped leaves round his feet, there- 


fore the hounds when they arrived from Eichmond were unable 
to take up the scent. 

A week after Tony's escape Vincent returned late one even- 
ing from a visit to some friends. Dan, as he took his horse, 
whispered to him: "Stop a little on your way to house, Marse 
Vincent; me hab someting to tell you." 

"What is it, Dan?" Vincent asked as the lad, after putting 
up his horse in the stable, came running up to him. 

"Me have seen Tony, sah. He in de shrubs ober dar. 
He want to see Dinah, but me no take message till me tell you 
about him. He half starved, sah; me give him some yams." 

" That's right, Dan." 

" He pretty nigh desperate, sar; he say dey hunt him like 
wild beast." 

" I will see him, Dan. If I can help him in any way I will 
do so. Unfortunately I do not know any of the people who 
help to get slaves away, so I can give him no advice as to 
the best way to proceed. Still I might talk it over with him. 
When I have joined him, do you go up to the house and tell 
Chloe from me to give you a pile of corn -cakes — it's no use 
giving him flour, for he would be afraid to light a fire to cook 
it. Tell her to give you, too, any cold meat there may be in 
the house. Don't tell Dinah her husband is here till we have 
talked the matter over." 

Dan led Vincent up to a clump of bushes. 

"It am all right, Tony," he said; "here is Massa Vincent 
come to see you." 

The bushes parted and Tony came out into the full moon- 
light. He looked haggard and worn; his clothes were torn 
into stripes by the bushes. 

"My poor fellow," Vincent said kindly, "I am sorry to see 
you in such a state." 

A great sob broke from the black. 


"I KNOW it's against THE LAW." 53 

" De Lord bress you, sah, for your goodness and for saving 
Dinah from de hands of dose debils ! Now she safe wid you 
and de child, Tony no care berry much what come to him — de 
sooner he dead de better. He wish dat one day when dey flog 
him dey had kill him altogether; den all de trouble at an end. 
Dey hunt him ebery day with dogs and guns, and soon they 
catch him. No can go on much longer like dis. To-day me 
nearly gib myself up. Den me thought me like to see Dinah 
once more to say good-bye, so make great efi'ort and ran a bit 

" I have been thinking whether it would be possible to plan 
some way for you escape, Tony." 

The negro shook his head. 

"Dar never escape, sah, but to get to Canada; dat too far 
any way. Not possible to walk all dat way and get food by 
de road. Suah to be caught." 

" No, I do not think it will be possible to escape that way, 
Tony. The only possible plan would be to get you on board 
some ship going to England." 

" Ships not dare take negro on board," Tony said. " Me 
heard dat said many times — dat against de law." 

"Yes, I know it's against the law," Vincent said, "and it's 
against the law my talking to you here, Tony; but you see it's 
done. The difficulty is how to do it. All vessels are searched 
before they start, and an officer goes down with them past 
Fortress Monroe to see that they take no one on board. Still 
it is possible. Of course there is risk in the matter; but there 
is risk in everything. I will think it over. Do not lose heart. 
Dan will be back directly with enough food to last you for 
some days. If I were you I would take refuge this time in 
White Oak Swamp. It is much nearer, and I hear it has already 
been searched from end to end, so they are not likely to try 
again; and if you hear them you can, if you are pressed, cross 


the Chickahominy and make down through the woods. Do you 
come again on Saturday evening — that will give me four days 
to see what I can do, I may not succeed, you know; for the 
penalty is so severe against taking negroes on board that I may 
not be able to find anyone willing to risk it. But it is worth 

" De Lord bless you, sah!" Tony said. " I will do juss what 
you tell me; but don't you run no risks for me, my life ain't 
worth dat." 

"I will take care, Tony. And now here comes Dan with 
the provisions." 

"Can I see Dinah, sah?" Tony pleaded. 

"I think you had better not," Vincent replied. "You see 
the Jacksons might at any moment learn that she is here, and 
then she might be questioned whether she had seen you since 
your escape ; and it would be much better for her to be able to 
deny having done so. But you shall see her next time you 
come, whether I am able to make any arrangements for your 
escape or not. I will let her know to-morrow morning that I 
have seen you, and that you are safe at present." 

The next morning Vincent rode over to City Point, where 
ships with a large draught of water generally brought up, either 
transferring their goods into smaller craft to be sent up by river 
to Kichmond, or to be carried on by rail through the town of 
Petersburg. Leaving his horse at a house near the river, he 
crossed the James in a boat to City Point. There were several 
vessels lying here, and for some hours he hung about the 
wharf watching the process of discharging. By the end of 
that time he had obtained a view of all the captains, and had 
watched them as they gave their orders, and had at last come 
to the conclusion as to which would be the most likely to suit 
his. purpose. Having made up his mind, he waited until the 
one he had fixed upon came ashore. He was a man of some 


five and thirty years old, with a pleasant face and good-natured 
smile. He first went into some offices on the wharf, and half 
an hour later came out and walked towards the railway-station. 
Vincent at once followed him, and as he overtook him said : 

" I want very much to speak to you, sir, if you could spare 
me a minute or two." 

" Certainly," the sailor said with some surprise. " The train 
for Petersburg does not go for another half hour. What can 
I do for your' 

" My name is Vincent Wingfield. My father was an English 
officer, and my mother is the owner of some large estates near 
Richmond. I am most anxious to get a person in whom I 
am interested on board ship, and I do not know how to set 
about it." 

"There's no difficulty about that," the captain said smiling; 
" you have only to go to an office and pay for his passage to 
where he wants to go." 

"I can't do that," Vincent replied; "for unfortunately it is 
against the law for any captain to take him." 

"You mean he is a negro f the captain asked, stopping short 
in his walk and looking sharply at Vincent. 

"Yes, that is what I mean," Vincent said. "He is a negro 
who has been brutally ill-treated and has run away from his 
master, and I would willingly give a hundred pounds to get 
him safely away." 

" This is a very serious business in which you are meddling, 
young sir," the sailor said. "Putting aside the consequences 
to yourself, you are asking me to break the law and to run the 
risk of the confiscation of my ship. Even if I were willing to do 
what you propose it would be impossible, for the ship will be 
searched from end to end before the hatches are closed, and an 
official will be on board until we discharge the pilot after get- 
ting well beyond the mouth of the river." 


"Yes, 1 know that," Vincent replied; "but my plan was to 
take a boat and go out beyond the sight of land, and then to 
put him on board after you have got well away." 

" That might be managed, certainly," the captain said. " It 
would be contrary to my duty to do anything that would risk 
the property of my employers; but if when I am out at sea a 
boat came alongside, and a passenger came on board, it would 
be another matter. I suppose, young gentleman, that you would 
not interfere in such a business, and run the risk that you 
certainly would run if detected, unless you were certain that 
this was a deserving case, and that the man has committed no 
sort of crime; for I would not receive on board my ship a 
fugitive from justice, whether he was black or white." 

"It is indeed a deserving case," Vincent said earnestly. 
" The poor fellow has the misfortune of belonging to one of the 
worst masters in the State. He has been cruelly flogged on 
many occasions, and was finally driven to run away by their 
selling his wife and child." 

"The brutes 1" the sailor said. "How you people can allow 
such things to be done is a mystery to me. Well, lad, under 
those circumstances I will agree to do what you ask me, and if 
your boat comes alongside when I am so far away from land 
that it cannot be seen, I will take the man to England." 

"Thank you very much indeed," Vincent said; "you will be 
doing a good action. Upon what day do you sail?" 

"I shall drop down on Monday into Hampton Roads, and 
shall get up sail at daylight next morning. I shall pass Fortress 
Monroe at about seven in the morning, and shall sail straight 

" And how shall I know your ship?" Vincent asked. "There 
may be others starting just about the same time." 

The sailor thought for a moment. " When I am four or five 
miles out I will hoist my owner's flag at the foremast-head. 


It is a red flag with a white ball, so you will be able to make 
it out a considerable distance away. You must not be less than 
ten or twelve miles out, for the pilot often does not leave the 
ship till she is some miles past Fortress Monroe, and the official 
will not leave the ship till he does. I will keep a sharp look- 
out for you, but I cannot lose my time in waiting. If you do 
not come alongside I shall suppose that you have met with 
some interruption to your plans." 

" Thank you very much, sir. Unless something goes wrong 
I shall be alongside on Tuesday." 

" That's settled, then," the captain said, " and I must be off, 
or else 1 shall lose my train. By the way, when you come 
alongside do not make any sign that you have met me before. 
It is just as well that none of my crew should know that it is 
a planned thing, for if we ever happened to put in here again 
they might blab about it, and it is just as well not to give them 
the chance. Good-bye, my lad; I hope that all will go well. 
But, you know, you are doing a very risky thing; for the assist- 
ing a runaway slave to escape is about as serious an offence as 
you can commit in these parts. You might shoot half a dozen 
men and get off scot free, but if you were caught aiding a run- 
away to escape, there is no saying what might come of it." 

After taking leave of the captain, Vincent recrossed the river 
and rode home. He had friends whose fathers' estates bordered 
some on the James and others on the York River, and all of these 
had pleasure-boats. It was obviously better to go down the 
York River, and thence round to the mouth of the James at 
Fortress Monroe, as the traffic on the York was comparatively 
small, and it was improbable that he would be noticed either 
going down or returning. He had at first thought of hiring a 
fishing-boat from some of the free negroes who made their living 
on the river. But he finally decided against this; for the fact of 
the boat being absent so long would attract its owner's attention, 


and in case any suspicion arose that the fugitive had escaped 
by water, the hiring of a boat by one who had already be- 
friended the slave, and its absence for so long a time, would be 
almost certain to cause suspicion to be directed towards him. 
He therefore decided upon borrowing a boat from a friend, and 
next morning rode to the plantation of the father of Harry 
Furniss, this being situated on a convenient position on the 
Pamunky, one of the branches of the York River. 

"Are you using that sailing-boat of yours at present, Harry? 
Because, if not, I wish you would let me have the use of it for 
a week or so." 

"With pleasure, Vincent; and my fishing-lines and nets as 
well, if you like. We very seldom use the boat. Do you mean 
to keep it here or move it higher up the river, where it would 
be more handy for you, perhaps'?" 

" I think I would rather leave it here, Furniss. A mile or 
two extra to ride makes no difference. I suppose it's in the 

"Yes; at the foot of the boathouse stairs. There is a pad- 
lock and chain. I will give you the key, so you can go off 
whenever you like without bothering to come up to the house. 
If you just call in at the stable as you ride by, one of the boys 
will go down with you and take your horse and put him up till 
you come back again." 

" That will do capitally," Vincent replied. " It is some time 
since I was on the water, and I seem to have a fancy for a 
change at present. One is sick of riding into Richmond and 
hearing nothing but politics talked of all day. Don't be 
alarmed if you hear at any time that the boat has not come 
back at night, for if tide and wind are unfavourable at any time 
I might stop at Cumberland for the night." 

" I have often had to do that," Furniss said. *' Besides, if 
you took it away for a week, I don't suppose any one would 


notice it; for no one goes down to the boathouse unless to get 
the boat ready for a trip." 

The next day Vincent rode over to his friend's plantation, 
sending Dan off an hour beforehand to bale out the boat and 
get the masts and sails into her from the boathouse. The greater 
part of the next two days was spent on the water, sometimes 
sailing sometimes fishing. The evening of the second of these 
days was that upon which Vincent had arranged to meet Tony 
again, and an hour after dark he went down through the garden 
to the stable ; for that was the time the fugitive was to meet 
him, for he could not leave his place of concealment until night 
fell. After looking at the horses, and giving some instructions 
to the negroes in charge, he returned to the shrubbery, and, 
sending Dan up to summon Dinah, he went to the bushes, 
where he had before met Tony. The negro came out as he 
■ "How are you, Tony?" 

"Much better dan I was, massa. I hab not been disturbed 
since I saw you, and, thanks to dat and to de good food and 
to massa's kind words, I'm stronger and better now, and ready 
to do whatever massa think best." 

"Well, Tony, I am glad to say that I think I have arranged 
a plan by which you will be got safely out of the country. 
Of course, it may fail; but there is every hope of success. 
I have arranged for a boat, and shall take you down the river, 
and put you on board a ship bound for England." 

The black clapped his hands in delight at the news. 

"When you get there you will take another ship out to 
Canada, and as soon as I learn from you that you are there, and 
what is your address, I will give Dinah her papers of freedom 
and send her on to you." 

"Oh! massa, it is too much," Tony said, with the tears run- 
ning down his cheeks; "too much joy altogeder." 


"Well, I hope it will all come right, Tony. Dinah will 
be here in a minute or two. Do not keep her long, for I do 
not wish her absence from the house to be observed just now. 
Now, listen to my instructions. Do you know the plantation 
of Mr. Furniss, on the Pamunky, near Coal Harbour?" 

"No, sir; but me can find out." 

" No, you can't; because you can't see anyone or ask ques- 
tions. Very well, then, you must be here again to-morrow 
night at the same hour. Dan will meet you here, and act as your 
guide. He will presently bring you provisions for to-morrow. 
Be sure you be careful, Tony, and get back to your hiding- 
place as soon as you can, and lie very quiet to-morrow until it 
is time to start. It would be terrible if you were to be caught 
now, just as we have arranged for you to get away." 

On the following afternoon Vincent told his mother that he 
was going over that evening to his friend Furniss, as an early 
start was to be made next morning; they intended to go down 
the river as far as Yorktown, if not further; that he certainly 
should not be back for two days, and probably might be even 

" This new boating freak of yours, Vincent, seems to occupy 
all your thoughts. I wonder how long it will last." 

" I don't suppose it will last much longer, mother," Vincent 
said with a laugh. " Anyhow, it will make a jolly change for 
a week. One had got so sick of hearing nothing talked about 
but secession that a week without hearing the word mentioned 
will do one lots of good, and I am sure I felt that if one had 
much more of it, one would be almost driven to take up the 
Northern side just for the sake of a change." 

"We should all disown you, Vin," Annie said laughing; 
" we should have nothing to say to you, and you would be cut 
by all your friends." 

" Well, you see, a week's sailing and fishing will save me 


from all that, Annie; and I shall be able to begin again with a 
fresh stock of patience." 

" I believe you are only half in earnest in the cause, Vincent," 
his mother said gravely. 

" I am not indeed, mother. I quite agree with what you and 
every one say as to the rights of the State of Virginia, and if 
the North should really try to force us and the other Southern 
States to remain with them, I shall be just as ready to do 
everything I can as anyone else; but I can't see the good of 
always talking about it, and I think it's very wrong to ill-treat 
and abuse those who think the other way. In England in the 
Civil War the people of the towns almost all thought one way, 
and almost all those of the counties the other, and even now 
opinions differ almost as widely as to which was right. I hate 
to hear people always laying down the law as if there could 
not possibly be two sides of the case, and as if every one who 
differed from them must be a rascal and a traitor. Almost all 
the fellows I know say that if it comes to fighting they shall 
go into the State army, and I should be quite willing, if they 
would really take fellows of my age for soldiers, to enlist too; 
but that is no reason why one should not get sick of hearing 
nothing but one subject talked of for weeks." 

It was nearly dark when Vincent started for his walk of ten 
miles; for he had decided not to take his horse with him, as he 
had no means of sending it back, and its stay for three days in 
his friend's stables would attract attention to the fact of his 
long absence. 

After about three hours' walking he reached the boathouse, 
having seen no one as he passed through the plantation. He 
took the oars and sails from the boathouse and placed them in 
the boat, and then sat down in the stern to await the coming 
of the negroes. In an hour they arrived; Tony carrying a 
bundle of clothes that Dan had by Vincent's orders bought for 


him in Richmond, while Dan carried a large basket of pro- 
visions. Vincent gave an exclamation of thankfulness as he 
saw the two figures appear, for the day having been Sunday 
he knew that a good many men would be likely to join the 
search parties in hopes of having a share in the reward offered 
for Tony's capture, and he had felt very anxious all day. 

" You sit in the bottom of the boat, Tony, and do you steer, 
Dan. You make such a splashing with your oar that we should 
be heard a mile away. Keep us close in shore in the shadow 
of the trees; the less we are noticed the better at this time of 

Taking the sculls, Vincent rowed quietly away. He had 
often been out on boating excursions with his friends, and had 
learnt to row fairly. During the last two days he had dili- 
gently instructed Dan, and after two long days' work the young 
negro had got over the first difficulties, but he was still clumsy 
and awkward. Vincent did not exert himself. He knew he 
had a long night's row before him, and he paddled quietly 
along with the stream. The boat was a good-sized one, and 
when not under sail was generally rowed by two strong negroes 
accustomed to the work. 

Sometimes for half an hour at a time Vincent ceased rowing, 
and let the boat drift along quietly. There was no hurry, for 
he had a day and two nights to get down to the mouth of the 
river, a distance of some seventy miles, and out to sea far enough 
to intercept the vessel. At four o'clock they arrived at Cum- 
berland, where the Pamunky and Mattapony Rivers unite 
and form the York River. Here they were in tidal waters; 
and as the tide, though not strong, was flowing up, Vincent 
tied the boat to the branch of a tree, and lay down in the 
bottom for an hour's sleep, telling Dan to wake him when the 
tide turned, or if he heard any noise. Day had broken when 
the boat drifted round, and Dan aroused him. 

AT SEA. 63 

The boat was rowed off to the middle of the river, as there 
could be no longer any attempt at concealment. Dan now took 
the bow oar, and they rowed until a light breeze sprang up. 
Vincent then put up the mast, and, having hoisted the sail, took 
his place at the helm, while Dan went forward into the bow. 
They passed several fishing-boats, and the smoke was seen 
curling up from the huts in the clearings scattered here and 
there along the shore. The sun had now risen, and its heat 
was pleasant after the damp night air. 

Although the breeze was light, the boat made fair way with 
the tide, and when the ebb ceased at about ten o'clock the 
mouth of the river was but a few miles away. The mast was 
lowered and the sails stowed. The boat was then rowed into 
a little creek and tied up to the bushes. The basket of pro- 
visions was opened, and a hearty meal enjoyed, Tony being 
now permitted for the first time to sit up in the boat. After 
the meal Vincent and Dan lay down for a long sleep, while 
Tony, who had slept some hours during the night, kept watch. 

At four in the afternoon tide again slackened, and as soon as 
it had fairly turned they pushed out from the creek and again 
set sail. In three hours they were at the mouth of the river. 
A short distance out they saw several boats fishing, and drop- 
ping anchor a short distance away from these, they lowered 
their sail, and taking the fishing-lines from the locker of the 
boat, set to to fish. As soon as it was quite dark the anchor 
was hauled up, and Vincent and Dan took the oars, the wind 
having now completely dropped. For some time they rowed 
steadily, keeping the land in sight on their right hand. 

Tony was most anxious to help, but as he had never had an 
oar in his hand in his life, Vincent thought that he would do 
more harm than good. It was, he knew, some ten miles from 
the mouth of the York River to Fortress Monroe, at the entrance 
to Hampton Roads, and after rowing for three hours he thought 

64 "there's the ship, tony." 

that he could not be far from that point, and therefore turned 
the boat's head out towards the sea. They rowed until they 
could no longer make out the land astern, and then laying in 
their oars waited till the morning, Vincent sitting in the stern 
and often nodding off to sleep, while the two negroes kept up 
a constant conversation in the bow. 

As soon as it was daylight the oars were again got out. 
They could clearly make out the outline of the coast, and saw 
the break in the shore that marked the entrance to Hampton 
Eoads. There was a light breeze now, but Vincent would not 
hoist the sail lest it might attract the attention of some one on 
shore. He did not think the boat itself could be seen, as they 
were some eight or nine miles from the land. They rowed for 
a quarter of an hour, when Vincent saw the white sails of a 
ship coming out from the entrance. 

The breeze was so light that she would, he thought, be nearly 
three hours before she reached the spot where they were now, 
and whether she headed to the right or left of it he would have 
plenty of time to cut her off. For another two hours he and 
Dan rowed steadily. The wind had freshened a good deal, and 
the ship was now coming up fast to them. Two others had come 
out after her, but were some miles astern. They had already 
made out that the ship was flying a flag at her masthead, and 
although they had not been able to distinguish its colours, Vin- 
cent felt sure that it was the right ship; for he felt certain that 
the captain would get up sail as soon as possible, so as to come 
up with them before any other vessels came out. They had 
somewhat altered their course, to put themselves in line with 
the vessel. When she was within a distance of about a mile 
and a half Vincent was able to make out the flag, and knew 
that it was the right one. 

"There's the ship, Tony," he said; "it is all right, and in a 
few minutes you will be on your way to England." 


Tony had already changed his tattered garments for the suit 
of sailor's clothes that Dan had bought for him. Vincent had 
given him full instructions as to the course he was to pursue. 
The ship was bound for Liverpool; on his arrival there he was 
at once to go round the docks and take a passage in the steer- 
age of the next steamer going to Canada. 

" The fare will be about five pounds," he said. *' When you 
get to Canada you will land at Quebec, and you had better go 
on by rail to Montreal, where you will, I think, find it easier 
to get work than at Quebec. As soon as you get a place you 
are likely to stop in, get somebody to write for you to me, 
giving me your address. Here are a hundred dollars, which 
will be sufficient to pay your expenses to Montreal and leave 
you about fifty dollars to keep you till you can get something 
to do." 





HEN the ship came within a few hundred yards, 
Vincent stood up and waved his cap, and a minute 
later the ship was brought up into the wind and 
her sails thrown aback. The captain appeared at 
the side and shouted to the boat, now but fifty yards away. 

"What do you want there?" 

*' I have a passenger for England," Vincent replied. " Will 
you take him?" 

" Come alongside," the captain said. " Why didn't he come 
on board before I started?" 

The boat was rowed alongside, and Vincent climbed on 
board. The captain greeted him as a stranger and led the way 
to his cabin. 

"You have managed that well," he said when they were 
alone, "and I am heartily glad that you have succeeded. I 
made you out two hours ago. We will stop here another two 
or three minutes so that the men may think you are bargain- 
ing for a passage for the negro, and then the sooner he is on 
board and you are on your way back the better, for the wind 
is rising, and I fancy it is going to blow a good deal harder 
before night." 

"And won't you let me pay for the man's passage, captain? 
It is only fair anyhow that I should pay for what he will eat." 


"Oh, nonsense!" the captain replied. *'He will make him- 
self useful and pay for his keep. I am only too glad to get 
the poor fellow off. Now, we will have a glass of wine together 
and then say good-bye." 

Two minutes later they returned to the deck. Vincent went 
to the side. 

"Jump on board, Tony, I have arranged for your passage." 

The negro climbed up the side. 

"Good-bye, captain, and thank you heartily. Good-bye, 

The negro could not speak, but he seized the hand Vincent 
held out to him and pressed it to his lips. Vincent dropped 
lightly into his boat and pushed off from the side of the vessel. 
As he did so he heard orders shouted, the yards swung 
round, and the vessel almost at once began to move through 
the water. 

"Now, Dan, up with the mast and sail again; but let me 
put two reefs in first, the wind is getting up." 

In five minutes the sail was hoisted, and with Vincent at 
the helm and Dan sitting up to windward, was dashing through 
the water. Although Vincent understood the management of 
a sailing-boat on the calm waters of the rivers, this was his 
first experience of sea-sailing; and although the waves were 
still but small, he felt at first somewhat nervous as the boat 
dashed through them, sending up at times a sheet of spray 
from her bows. But he soon got over this sensation, and en- 
joyed the lively motion and the fresh wind. The higher points 
of the lands were still visible; but even had they not been so it 
would have mattered little, as he had taken the precaution to 
bring with him a small pocket-compass. The wind was from 
the south-west, and he was therefore able, with the sheet 
hauled in, to make for a point where he judged the mouth of 
the York Eiver lay. 


"Golly, massa! how de boat do jump up and down." 

" She is lively, Dan, and it would be just as well if we had 
some ballast on board; however she has a good beam and 
walks along splendidly. If the wind keeps as it is, we shall 
be back at the mouth of the York in three or four hours. You 
may as well open that basket again and hand me that cold 
chicken and a piece of bread; cut the meat off the bones and 
put it on the bread, for I have only one hand disengaged; and 
hand me that bottle of cold tea. That's right. Now you had 
better take something yourself. You must be hungry. We 
forgot all about the basket in our interest in the ship." 

Dan shook his head. 

"A little while ago, massa, me seem berry hungry, now me 
doesn't feel hungry at all." 

" That's bad, Dan. I am afraid you are going to be sea-sick." 

"Me no feel sea-sick, massa; only me don't feel hungry." 

But in a few minutes Dan was forced to confess that he did 
feel ill, and a few moments afterwards was groaning in the 
agonies of sea-sickness. 

" Never mind, Dan," Vincent said cheerfully. " You will 
be better after this." 

"Me not sea-sick, massa; de sea have nufiin to do with it. 
It's de boat dat will jump up and down instead of going quiet." 

"It's all the same thing, Dan; and I hope she won't jump 
about more before we get into the river." 

But in another half hour Vincent had to bring the boat's 
head up to the wind, lower the lug, and tie down the last reef. 

" There she goes easier now, Dan," he said, as the boat re- 
sumed her course; but Dan, who was leaning helplessly over 
the side of the boat, could see no difference. 

Vincent, however, felt that under her close sail the boat was 
doing better, and rising more easily on the waves, which were 
now higher and farther apart than before. In another hour the 


whole of the shore-line was visible; but the wind had risen so 
much that, even under her reduced sail, the boat had as much 
as she could carry, and often heeled over until her gunwale 
was nearly under water. Another hour and the shore was but 
some four miles away, but Vincent felt he could no longer 
hold on. 

In the hands of an experienced sailor, who would have 
humoured the boat and eased her up a little to meet the seas, 
the entrance to the York River could no doubt have been 
reached with safety; but Vincent was ignorant of the art of 
sailing a boat in the sea, and she was shipping water heavily. 
Dan had for some time been bailing, having only undertaken 
the work in obedience to Vincent's angry orders, being too ill 
to care much what became of them. 

" Now, Dan, I am going to bring her head up to the wind, 
so get ready to throw off that halyard and gather in the sail 
as it comes down. That's right, man; now down with the 

Vincent had read that the best plan when caught in an open 
boat in a gale, was to tie the oars and mast, if she had one, 
together, and to throw them overboard with the head rope 
tied to them, as by that means the boat would ride head to 
sea. The oars, sculls, mast, and sail were firmly tied together 
and launched overboard, the rope being first taken off the 
anchor and tied round the middle of the clump of spars. 

Vincent carefully payed out the rope till some fifteen yards 
were over, then he fastened it to the ring of the head rope, 
and had the satisfaction of finding that the boat rode easily to 
the floating anchor, rising lightly over the waves, and not 
shipping a drop of water. He then took the baler and got rid 
of the water that had found its way on board, Dan, after 
getting down the sail, having collapsed utterly- 

"Now, Dan, sit up; there, man, the motion is much easier 


now, and we are taking no water on board. I will give you 
a glass of rum, that will put new strength into j'ou. It's lucky 
we put it in the basket in case of emergency." 

The negro, whose teeth were chattering from cold, fright, 
and exhaustion, eagerly drank off the spirit. Vincent, who 
was wet to the skin with the spray, took a little himself, and 
then settled himself as comfortably as he could on the floor- 
boards in the stern of the boat, and quietly thought out the 
position. The wind was still rising, and a thick haze obscured 
the land. He had no doubt that by night it would be blowing 
a gale; but the boat rode so easily and lightly that he believed 
she would get through it. 

They might, it was true, be blown many miles off the shore, 
and not be able to get back for some time, for the gale might 
last two or three days. The basket of provisions was, however, 
a large one. Dan had received orders to bring plenty and had 
obeyed them literally, and Vincent saw that the supply of food, 
if carefully husbanded, would last without difficulty for a week 
The supply of liquor was less satisfactory. There was the 
bottle of rum, two bottles of claret, and a two-gallon jar, nearly 
half empty, of water. The cold tea was finished. 

" That would be a poor supply for a week for two of us,' 
Vincent muttered, as he removed the contents of the basket 
and stored them carefully in the locker; "however, if it's going 
to be a gale there is sure to be some rain with it, so I think 
we shall manage very well." 

By night it was blowing really heavily, but although the 
waves were high the boat shipped but little water. Dan had 
fallen off to sleep, and Vincent had been glad to -wrap himself 
in the thick coat he had brought with him as a protection 
against the heavy dews when sleeping on the river. At times 
sharp rain squalls burst upon them, and Vincent had no diffi- 
culty in filling up the water-bottle again with the baler. 


The water was rather brackish, but not sufficiently so to be 
of consequence. All night the boat was tossed heavily on the 
waves. Vincent dosed off at times, rousing himself occa- 
sionally and baling out the water, which came in the shape of 
spray and rain. The prospect in the morning was not cheer- 
ing. Gray clouds covered the sky and seemed to come down 
almost on to the water, the angry sea was crested with white 
heads, and it seemed to Vincent wonderful that the boat should 
live in such a sea. 

"Now, Dan, wake yourself up and get some breakfast," 
Vincent said, stirring up the negro with his foot. 

"Oh Lor'!" Dan groaned, raising himself into a sitting posi- 
tion from the bottom of the boat, "dis am awful; we neber see 
the shore no more, massa." 

"Nonsense, man," Vincent said cheerily; "we are getting 
on capitally." 

"It hab been an awful night, sah." 

"An awful night! You lazy rascal, you slept like a pig all 
night, while I have been baling the boat and looking out for 
you. It is your turn now, I can tell you. Well, do you feel 
ready for your breakfast?" 

Dan, after a moment's consideration, declared that he was. 
The feeling of sea-sickness had passed off, and except that he 
was wet through and miserable, he felt himself again, and could 
have eaten four times the allowance of food that Vincent handed 
him. A pannikin of rum and water did much to restore his 
life and vitality, and he was soon, with the light-heartedness 
of his race, laughing and chatting cheerfully. 

"How long dis go on, you tink, sah"?" 

" Not long, I hope, Dan. I was afraid last night it was going 
to be a big gale, but I do not think it is blowing so hard now 
as it was in the night." 

"Where have we got to now, sah?" 

72 dan's lesson in navigation. 

'' I don't exactly know, Dan; but I do not suppose that we 
are very many miles away from shore. The mast and oars 
prevent our drifting fast, and I don't think we are further 
off now than we were when we left that ship yesterday. But 
even if we were four or five times as far as that, we should not 
take very long in sailing back again when the wind drops; and 
as we have got enough to eat for a week we need not be un- 
comfortable about that." 

"Not much food for a week, Massa Vincent." 

" Not a very great deal, Dan ; but quite enough to keep us 
going. You can make up for lost time when you get to shore 

In a few hours it was certain that the wind was going down. 
By mid-day the clouds began to break up, and an hour later 
the sun was shining brightly. The wind was still blowing 
strongly, but the sea had a very different appearance in the 
bright light of the sun to that which it had borne under the 
canopy of dark gray clouds. Standing up in the boat two hours 
later, Vincent could see no signs of land. 

"How shall we find our way back, Marse Vincent?" 

"We have got a compass; besides, we should manage very 
well even if we had not. Look at the sun, Dan. There it is 
right ahead of us. So, you know, that's the west — that's the 
way we have to go." 

" That very useful ob de sun, sah; but suppose we not live 
in de west de sun not point de way den." 

" Oh, yes, he would, just the same, Dan. We should know 
whether to go away from him, or to keep him on the right hand 
or on the left." 

This was beyond Dan. " And I s'pose the moon will show 
de way at night, massa?" 

" The moon would show the way if she were up, but she is 
not always up; but I have got a compass here, and so whether 


we have the sun or the moon, or neither of them, I can find 
my way back to land." 

Dan had never seen a compass, and for an hour amused him- 
self turning it round and round and trying to get it to point 
in some other direction than the north. 

*' Now, Dan," Vincent said at last, " give me that compass, 
and get out the food. We will have a better meal than we did 
this morning, for now that the wind is going down there's no 
chance of food running short. When we have had dinner we 
will get up the sail again. The sea is not so rough as it was, 
and it is certainly not so high as it was before we lowered the 
sail yesterday." 

"De waves berry big, massa." 

"They are big, Dan; but they are not so angry. The heads 
are not breaking over as they did last night, and the boat will 
go better over those long waves than she did through the 
choppy sea at the beginning of the gale." 

Accordingly the bundle of spars were pulled up alongside 
and lifted. The mast was set up and the sail hoisted. Dan 
in a few minutes forgot his fears and lost even his sense of un- 
easiness as he found the boat mounted wave after wave without 
shipping water. Several times, indeed, a shower of spray flew 
high up in the air, but the gusts no longer buried her so that 
the water came over the gunwale, and it was a long time 
before there was any occasion to use the baler. As the sun set 
it could be seen that there was a dark line between it and the 

"There is the land, Dan; and I do not suppose it is more 
than twenty miles away, for most of the coast lies low." 

"But how we find de York Eiver, massa? Will de compass 
tell you datl" 

"No, Dan. I don't know whether we have drifted north or 
south of it. At ordinary times the current runs up the coast, 


but the wind this morning was blowing from the north of west, 
and may have been doing so all through the night for anything 
I know. Well, the great thing is to make land. We are almost 
sure to come across some fishing-boats, but, if not, we must 
run ashore and find a house." 

They continued sailing until Vincent's watch told him it was 
twelve o'clock, by which time the coast was quite close. The 
wind now almost dropped, and, lowering their sail, they rowed 
in until, on lowering the anchor, they found that it touched the 
ground. Then they lay down and slept till morning. Dan 
was the first to waken. 

"Dar are some houses dere close down by the shore, sah, 
and some men getting out a boat." 

" That's all right, Dan," Vincent said as he roused himself 
and looked over. " We shall learn soon where we are." 

In a quarter of an hour the fishing-boat put off, and the lads 
at once rowed to it. 

" How far are we from the mouth of the York River?" Vin- 
cent asked the two negroes on board. 

" About twenty miles, sah. Where you come from?" 

" We were off the mouth of the river, and were blown off in 
the gale." 

" You tink yourself berry lucky you get back," one of them 
said. "Berry foolish to go out like dat when not know how to 
get back." 

" Well, we have managed to get back now, you see, and none 
the worse for it. Now, Dan, up with the sail again." 

There was a light wind off shore, and all the reefs being 
shaken out the boat ran along fast. 

" I should think we are going about five miles an hour, Dan. 
We ought to be off the mouth of the river in four hours. AVe 
must look out sharp or else we shall pass it, for many of these 
islets look just like the mouth of the river. However, we are 


pretty sure to pass several fishing-boats on our way, and we 
shall be able to inquire from them." 

There was no need, however, to do this. It was just the 
four hours from the time of starting when they saw some eight 
or ten fishing-boats ahead of them. 

"I expect that that is the entrance to the river When we 
get half a mile further we shall see it open." 

On approaching the fishing-boats they recognized at once the 
appearance of the shore, as they had noticed it when fishing 
there before, and were soon in the entrance to the river. 

"It will be high tide in about two hours," Vincent said, 
" according to the time it was the other day. I am afraid when 
it turns we shall have to get down our sails; there will be no 
beating against both wind and tide. Then we must get out 
oars and row. There is very little tide close in by the bank, 
and every little gain will be a help. We have been out four 
days. It is Thursday now, and they will be beginning to get 
very anxious at home, so we must do our best to get back." 

Keeping close under the bank, they rowed steadily, making 
on an average about two miles an hour. After five hours' 
rowing they tied up to the bank, had a meal, and rested until 
tide turned; then they again hoisted their sail and proceeded 
on their way. Tide carried them just up to the junction of the 
two rivers, and landing at Cumberland they procured beds and 
slept till morning. 

Another long day's work took them up to the plantation of 
Mr. Furniss, and fastening up the boat, and carrying the sails 
and oars on shore, they started on their walk home. 

"Why, Vincent, where on earth have you been all this 
time?" Mrs. Wingfield said as her son entered. "You said you 
might be away a couple of nights, and we expected you back 
on Wednesday at the latest, and now it is Friday evening." 

"Well, mother, we have had great fun. We went sailing 


about ricfht down to the mouth of the York River. I did not 


calculate that it would take me more than twice as long to get 
back as to get down; but as the wind blew right down the 
river it was precious slow work, and we had to row all the 
way. However, it has been a jolly trip, and I feel a lot better 
for it." 

" You don't look any better for it," Annie said. " The skin 
is all off your face, and you are as red as fire. Your clothes 
look shrunk as well as horribly dirty. You are quite an object, 

" We got caught in a heavy gale," Vincent said, " and got a 
thorough ducking. As to my face, a day or two will set it all 
to rights again; and so they will my hands, I hope, for I have 
got nicely blistered tugging at those oars. And now, mother, I 
want some supper, for I am as hungry as a hunter. I told Dan 
to go into the kitchen and get a good square meal." 

The next morning, just after breakfast, there was the sound 
of horses' hoofs outside the house, and, looking out, Vincent saw 
Mr. Jackson, with a man he knew to be the sheriff, and four 
or five others. A minute later one of the servants came in, and 
said that the sheriff Avished to speak to Mrs. Wingfield. 

"I will go out to him," Mrs. Wingfield replied. Vincent 
followed her to the door. 

"Mrs. Wingfield," the sheriff said, "I am the holder of a 
warrant to search your slave-huts and grounds for a runaway 
negro named Anthony Moore, the property of Mr. Jackson 

" Do you suppose, sir," Mrs. Wingfield asked angrily, " that 
I am the sort of person to give shelter to runaway slaves?" 

"No, madam, certainly not," the sheriff replied; "no one 
would suppose for a moment that Mrs. Wingfield of the 
Orangery would have anything to do with a runaway, but 
Mr. Jackson here learnt only yesterday that the wife of this 


slave was here, and every one knows that where the wife is the 
husband is not likely to be far off." 

*'I suppose, sir," Mrs. Wingfield said coldly, "that there was 
no necessity for me to acquaint Mr. Jackson formally with the 
fact that I had purchased through my agent the woman he sold 
to separate her from her husband." 

"By no means, madam, by no means; though, had we known 
it before, it might have been some aid to us in our search. 
Have we your permission to see this woman and to question 

"Certainly not," Mrs. Wingfield said; "but if you have any 
question to ask I will ask her and give you her answer." 

"We want to know whether she has seen her husband since 
the day of his flight from the plantation?" 

" I shall certainly not ask her that question, Mr. Sheriff. I 
have no doubt that, as the place from which he has escaped is 
only a few miles from here, he did come to see his wife. It 
would have been very strange if he did not. I hope that by 
this time the man is hundreds of miles away. He was 
brutally treated by a brutal master, who, I believe, deliberately 
set to work to make him run away, so that he could hunt him 
down and punish him. I presume, sir, you do not wish to 
search this house, and you do not suppose that the man is 
hidden here. As to the slave-huts and the plantation, you can, 
of course, search them thoroughly; but as it is now more than 
a fortnight since the man escaped, it is not likely you will 
find him hiding within a few miles of his master's plantation." 

So saying she went into the house and shut the door behind 

Mr. Jackson ground his teeth with rage, but the sheriff 
rode off towards the slave-huts without a word. The position 
of Mrs. Wingfield of the Orangery, connected as she was 
with half the old families of Virginia, and herself a large slave- 


owner, was beyond suspicion, and no one would venture to 
suggest that such a lady could have the smallest sympathy 
for a runaway slave. 

"She was down upon you pretty hot, Mr. Jackson," the 
sheriff said as they rode off. "You don't seem to be in her 
good books." Jackson muttered an imprecation. 

"It is certainly odd," the sheriff went on, "after what you 
were telling me about her son pitching into Andrew over flog- 
ging this very slave, that she should go and buy his wife. Still, 
that's a very different thing from hiding a runaway. I dare- 
say that, as she says, the fellow came here to see his wife 
when he first ran away; but I don't think you will find him 
anywhere about here now. It's pretty certain from what we 
hear that he hasn't made for the North, and where the fellow 
can be hiding I can't think. Still the woods about this country 
are mighty big, and the fellow can go out on to the farms and 
pick corn and keep himself going for a long time. Still, he's 
sure to be brought up sooner or later." 

A thorough search was made of the slave-huts, and the slaves 
were closely questioned, but all denied any knowledge of the 
runaway. Dan escaped questioning, as he had taken up Vin- 
cent's horse to the house in readiness for him to start as soon 
as he had finished breakfast. 

All day the searchers rode about the plantation examining 
every clump of bushes, and assuring themselves that none of 
them had been used as a place of refuge for the runaway. 

"It's no good, Mr. Jackson," the sheriff said at last. "The 
man may have been here ; he ain't here now. The only place 
we haven't searched is the house, and you may be quite sure 
the slaves dare not conceal him there. Too many would get 
to know it. No, sir, he's made a bolt of it, and you will have 
to wait now till he is caught by chance, or shot by some farmer 
or other in the act of stealing." 


"I would lay a thousand dollars," Andrew Jackson exclaimed 
passionately, "that young Wingfield knows something about 
his whereabouts, and has lent him a hand ! " 

" Well, I should advise you to keep your mouth shut about 
it till you get some positive proof," the sheriff said drily. 
"I tell you it's no joke to accuse a member of a family like the 
Wingfields of helping runaway slaves to escape." 

" I will bide my time," the planter said. " You said that 
some day you would lay hands on Tony dead or alive. You see 
if some day I don't lay hands on young Wingfield." 

" Well, it seems, Mr. Jackson," the sheriff remarked with a 
sneer, for he was out of temper at the ill success of the day's 
work, "that he has already laid hands on your son. It seems 
to me quite as likely that he will lay hands on you as you on 

Two days afterwards as Vincent was riding through the 
streets of Kichmond he saw to his surprise Andrew Jackson 
in close conversation with Jonas Pearson. 

"I wonder what those two fellows are talking about?" he 
said to himself. " I expect Jackson is trying to pump Pearson, 
as to the doings at the Orangery. I don't like that fellow, and 
never shall, and he is just the sort of man to do one a bad 
turn if he had the chance. However, as I have never spoken 
to him about that affair from beginning to end, I don't see 
that he can do any mischief if he wants to." 

Andrew Jackson, however, had obtained information which 
he considered valuable. He learned that Vincent had been 
away in a boat for five days, and that his mother had been 
very uneasy about him. He also learned that the boat was 
one belonging to Mr. Furniss, and that it was only quite lately 
that Vincent had taken to going out sailing. 

After considerable trouble he succeeded in getting at one of 
the slaves upon Mr. Furniss' plantation. But he could only 


learn from him that Vincent had been unaccompanied when he 
went out in the boat either by young Furniss or by any of the 
plantation hands; that he had taken with him only his own 
slave, and had come and gone as he chose, taking out and fasten- 
ing up the boat himself, so that no one could say when he had 
gone out, except that his horse was put up at the stables. The 
slave said that certainly the horse had only stood there on two 
or three occasions, and then only for a few hours, and that 
unless Mr. Wingfield had walked over he could never have had 
the boat out all night, as the horse certainly had not stood all 
night in the stables. 

Andrew Jackson talked the matter over with his son, and 
both agreed that Vincent's conduct was suspicious. His own 
people said he had been away for five days in the boat. The 
people at Furniss' knew nothing about this, and therefore 
there must be some mystery about it, and they doubted not 
that that mystery was connected with the runaway slave, and 
they guessed that he had either taken Tony and landed him 
near the mouth of the York Eiver on the northern shore, or 
that he had put him on board a ship. They agreed, however, 
that whatever their suspicions, they had not sufficient grounds 
for openly accusing Vincent of aiding their runaway. 



HILE Vincent had been occupied with the affairs of 
Tony and his wife, public events had moved for- 
ward rapidly. The South Carolina Convention 
met in the third week in December, and on the 
20th of that month the Ordinance of Secession was passed. 
On the 10th of January, three days riter Vincent returned 
home from his expedition, Florida followed the example of 
South Carolina and seceded. Alabama and Mississippi passed 
the Ordinance of Secession on the following day; Georgia on 
the 18th, Louisiana on the 23d, and Texas on the 1st of 

In all these states the Ordinance of Secession were received 
with great rejoicings: bonfires were lit, the towns illuminated, 
and the militia paraded the streets, and in many cases the 
Federal arsenals were seized and the Federal forts occupied by 
the State troops. In the meantime the Northern Slave States, 
Virginia, North Carolina, Tennessee, Kentucky, and Missouri, 
remained irresolute. The general feeling was strongly in favour 
of their Southern brethren; but they were anxious for peace, 
and for a compromise being arrived at. Whether the North 
would agree to admit the constitutional rights of secession, or 
whether it would use force to compel the Seceding States to 
remain in the Union, was still uncertain ; but the idea of a civil 

(538) F 


war was so terrible a one that the general belief was that some 
arrangement to allow the States to go their own way would pro- 
bably be arrived at. 

For the time the idea of Vincent going to West Point was 
abandoned. Among his acquaintances were several young 
men who were already at West Point, and very few of these 
returned to the academy. The feeling there was very strongly 
on the side of secession. A great majority of the students 
came from the Southern States, as while the sons of the 
Northern men went principally into trade and commerce, 
the Southern planters sent their sons into the army, and a 
great proportion of the officers of the army and navy were 

As the professors at West Point were all military men, the 
feeling among them, as well as among the students, was in 
favour of State rights; they considering that, according to the 
constitution, their allegiance was due first to the States of 
which they were natives, and in the second place to the Union. 
Thus, then, many of the professors who were natives of the 
seven States which had seceded resigned their appointments, 
and returned home to occupy themselves in drilling the militia 
and the levies, who were at once called to arms. 

Still all hoped that peace would be preserved, until on the 
11th of April General Beauregard, who commanded the troops 
of South Carolina, summoned Major Anderson, who was in com- 
mand of the Federal troops in Fort Sumter, to surrender, and 
on his refusal opened fire upon the fort on the following day. 

On the 13th, the barracks of the fort being set on fire, and 
Major Anderson seeing the hopelessness of a prolonged resist- 
ance, surrendered. The effect of the news throughout the 
United States was tremendous, and Mr. Lincoln at once called 
out 75,000 men of the militia of the various States to put 
down the rebellion — the border States being ordered to send 


their proportion. This brought matters to a climax. Virginia, 
North Carolina, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Missouri all refused 
to furnish contingents to act against the Southern States; and 
Virginia, North Carolina, and Kansas a few days later passed 
Ordinances of Secession and joined the Southern States. Mis- 
souri, Maryland, and Delaware were divided in their counsels. 

The struggle that was about to commence was an uneven 
one. The white population of the Seceding States was about 
8,000,000; while that of the Northern States were 19,614,885. 
The North possessed an immense advantage, inasmuch as they 
retained the whole of the Federal navy, and were thereby 
enabled at once to cut off all communication between the 
Southern States and Europe, while they themselves could draw 
unlimited supplies of munitions of war of all kinds from across 
the Atlantic. 

Although the people of Virginia had hoped to the last that 
some peaceful arrangement might be effected, the Act of Seces- 
sion was received with enthusiasm. The demand of Mr. Lincoln 
that they should furnish troops to crush their Southern brethren 
excited the liveliest indignation, and Virginia felt that there 
was no course open to her now but to throw in her lot with 
the other Slave States. Her militia was at once called out, and 
volunteers called for to form a provisional army to protect the 
State from invasion by the North. 

The appeal was answered with enthusiasm; men of all ages 
took up arms; the wealthy raised regiments at their own ex- 
pense, generally handing over the commands to experienced 
army officers, and themselves taking their places in the ranks; 
thousands of lads of from fifteen to sixteen years of age enrolled 
themselves, and men who had never done a day's work in their 
life prepared to suffer all the hardships of the campaign as 
private soldiers. 

Mrs. Wingfield was an enthusiastic supporter of State rights; 


and when Vincent told her that numbers of his friends were 
going to enroll themselves as soon as the lists were opened, she 
offered no objection to his doing the same. 

" Of course you are very young, Vincent; but no one thinks 
there will be any serious fighting. Now that Virginia and the 
other four States have cast in their lot with the seven that 
have seceded, the North can never hope to force the solid 
South back into the Union. Still it is right you should join. 
I certainly should not like an old Virginian family like ours to 
be unrepresented; but I should prefer your joining one of the 
mounted corps. 

" In the first place, it will be much less fatiguing than carry- 
ing a heavy rifle and knapsack; and in the second place, the 
cavalry will for the most part be gentlemen. I was speaking 
only yesterday when I went into Richmond to Mr. Ashley, 
who is raising a corps. He is one of the best riders in the 
country, and a splendid specimen of a Virginian gentleman. 
He tells me that he has already received a large number of ap- 
plications from young volunteers, and that he thinks he shall be 
able without any difiiculty to get as many as he wants. I said 
that I had a son who would probably enroll himself, and that I 
should Hke to have him in his corps. 

" He said that he would be glad to put down your name, 
and that he had had many applications from lads no older than 
yourself. He considered that for cavalry work, scouting, and 
that sort of thing age mattered little, and that a lad who was 
at once a light weight, a good rider, and a good shot was of as 
much good as a man." 

" Thank you, mother. I will ride into Richmond to-morrow 
morning and see Ashley. I have often met him at one house 
or another, and should like to serve under him very much. 
I should certainly prefer being in the cavalry to the infantry." 

Rosie and Annie, who were of course enthusiastic for the 


South, were almost as pleased as was Vincent when they heard 
that their mother had consented to his enrolling himself. So 
many of the girls of their acquaintance had brothers or cousins 
who were joining the army, that they would have felt it as 
something Hke a slur upon the family name had Vincent re- 
mained behind. 

On the following morning Vincent rode over and saw Mr. 
Ashley, who had just received his commission as major. He 
was cordially received. 

" Mrs. Wingfield was speaking to me about you, and I shall 
be glad to have you with me — the more so as you are a capital 
rider and a good shot. I shall have a good many in my ranks 
no older than you are. Did I not hear a few months since 
that you bought Wildfire? I thought when I heard it that 
you would be lucky if you did not get your neck broken in the 
course of a week. Peters, who owns the next estate to mine, 
had the horse for about three weeks, and was glad enough to 
get rid of it for half what he had given for it. He told me the 
horse was the most savage brute he ever saw. I suppose you 
did not keep it many days'?" 

"I have got it still, and mean to ride it with you. The horse 
was not really savage. It was hot-tempered, and had, I think, 
been badly treated by its first owner. Whoever it had belonged 
to, I found no difficulty with it. It only wanted kindness and a 
little patience; and as soon as it found that it could not get 
rid of me, and that I had no intention of ill-treating it, it settled 
down quietly, after running away a few times and giving me 
some little trouble at starting. And now I would not change 
it for any horse in the State." 

"You must be a first-rate rider," Major Ashley said, "to be 
able to tame Wildfire. I never saw the horse, for I was away 
when Peters had her \ but from his description it was a perfect 


"Are we allowed to bring a servant with us?" Vincent 

"Yes, if you like. I know that a good many are going to 
do so, but you must not make up your mind that you will get 
much benefit from one. We shall move rapidly, and each man 
must shift for himself, but at the same time we shall of course 
often be stationary; and then servants will be useful. At any 
rate I can see no objection to men having them. We must be 
prepared to rough it to any extent when it is necessary, but I 
see no reason why at other times a man should not make him- 
self comfortable. I expect the order to-morrow or next day to 
begin formally to enroll volunteers. As I have now put down 
your name there will be no occasion for you to come in then. 
You will receive a communication telling you when to report 

"I shall not trouble much about uniform at first. High 
boots and breeches, a thick felt hat that will turn the edge of 
a sword, and a loose coat- jacket of dark-gray cloth. That is 
the name of the tailor who has got the pattern, and will make 
them. So I should advise you to go to him at once, for he 
will be so busy soon that there is no saying when the whole 
troop will get their uniforms." 

Upon his return home Vincent related to his mother and 
sisters the conversation that he had had with Major Ash- 

"Certainly you had better take a servant with you," his 
mother said. " I suppose when you are riding about you will 
have to clean your horse, and cook your dinner, and do every- 
thing for yourself; but when you are in a town you should 
have these things done for you. Who would you like to 

" I should like to take Dan, mother, if you have no objection. 
He is very strong and active, and I think would generally be 


able to keep up with us; besides, I know he would always 
stick to me." 

"You shall have him certainly, Vincent; I will make him 
over formally to you." 

"Thank you, mother," Vincent said joyfully; for he had 
often wished that Dan belonged to him, as he would then be 
able to prevent any interference with him by the overseer or 
anyone else, and could, if he liked, give him his freedom — 
although this would, he knew, be of very doubtful advantage 
to the lad as long as he remained in the South. 

The next morning the necessary papers were drawn up, and 
the ownership of Dan was formally transferred to Vincent. 
Dan was wild with delight when he heard that Vincent was 
now his master, and that he was to accompany him to the war. 
It had been known two days before that Vincent was going, 
and it seemed quite shocking to the negroes that the young 
master should go as a private soldier, and have to do every- 
thing for himself — "just," as they said, "like de poor white 
trash;" for the slaves were proud to belong to an old family, 
and looked down with almost contempt upon the poorer class 
of whites, regarding their own position as infinitely superior. 

Four days later Vincent received an official letter saying that 
the corps would be mustered in two days' time. The next day 
was spent in a long round of farewell visits, and then Vincent 
mounted Wildfire, and, with Dan trotting behind, rode off" 
from the Orangery amidst a chorus of blessings and good 
wishes from all the slaves who could on any pretext get away 
from their duties, and who had assembled in front of the house 
to see him start. 

The place of meeting for the regiment was at Hanover 
Court-house — a station on the Richmond and Fredericksburg 
Railway, close to the Pamunky River, about eighteen miles 
from the city. 


The Orangery was a mile from the village of Gaines, which 
lay to the north-east of Eichmond, and was some twelve miles 
from Hanover Court-house. 

A month was spent in drill, and at the end of that time the 
corps were able to execute any simple manoeuvre. More than 
this Major Ashley did not care about their learning. The 
work in which they were about to engage was that of scouts 
rather than that of regular cavalry, and the requirements 
were vigilance and attention to orders, good shooting and a 
quick eye. Off duty there was but little discipline. Almost 
the whole of the men were in a good position in life, and many 
of them very wealthy; and while strict discipline and obedi- 
ence were expected while on duty, at all other times some- 
thing like equality existed between officers and men, and all 
were free to live as they chose. 

The rations served out were simple and often scanty, for at 
present the various departments were not properly organized, 
and such numbers of men were flocking to the standards, that 
the authorities were at their wits' end to provide them with even 
the simplest food. This mattered but little, however, to the 
regiment, whose members were all ready and willing to pay for 
everything they wanted, and the country people round found 
a ready market for all their chickens, eggs, fruit, and vegetables 
at Hanover Court-house, for here there were also several infantry 
regiments, and the normally quiet little village was a scene of 
bustle and confusion. 

The arms of the cavalry were of a very varied description. 
Not more than a dozen had swords; the rest were armed with 
rifles or shot-guns, with the barrels cut short to enable them to 
be carried as carbines. Many of them were armed with re- 
volvers, and some carried pistols so antiquated that they might 
have been used in the revolutionary war. A certain number of 
tents had been issued for the use of the corps. These, how- 

harper's ferry. 89 

ever, were altogether insufficient for the numbers, and most of 
the men preferred to sleep in shelters composed of canvas, 
carpets, blankets, or any other material that came to hand, or 
in arbours constructed of the boughs of trees, for it was now 
April and warm enough to sleep in the open air. 

In the third week in May the order came that the corps was 
to march at once for Harper's Ferry — an important position at 
the point where the Shenandoah River runs into the Potomac, 
at the mouth of the Shenandoah Valley. The order was re- 
ceived with the greatest satisfaction. The Federal forces were 
gathering rapidly upon the northern banks of the Potomac, and 
it was believed that, while the main army would march down 
from Washington through Manassas Junction direct upon 
Richmond, another would enter by the Shenandoah Valley, 
and, crossing the Blue Ridge Mountains, come down on the rear 
of the Confederate army, facing the main force at Manassas. 
The cavalry marched by road, while the infantry were despatched 
by rail as far as Manassas Junction, whence they marched to 
Harper's Ferry. The black servants accompanied the in- 

The cavalry march was a pleasant one. At every village 
through which they passed the people flocked out with offerings 
of milk and fruit. The days were hot, but the mornings and 
evenings delightful; and as the troops always halted in the 
shade of a wood for three or four hours in the middle of the 
day, the marches, although long, were not fatiguing. At 
Harper's Ferry General Johnston had just superseded Colonel 
Jackson in command. The force there consisted of 11 battalions 
of infantry, 16 guns, and after Ashley's force arrived, 300 cavalry. 
Among the regiments there Vincent found many friends, and 
learned what was going on. 

He learned that Colonel Jackson had been keeping them hard 
at work. Some of Vincent's friends had been at the Virginia 


Military Institute at Lexington, where Jackson was professor 
of natural philosophy and instructor of artillery. 

" He was the greatest fun," one of the young men said, *' the 
stifFest and most awkward-looking fellow in the institute. He 
used to walk about as if he never saw anything or anybody. 
He was always known as Old Tom, and nobody ever saw him 
laugh. He was awfully earnest in all he did, and strict, I can 
tell you, about everything. There was no humbugging him. 
The fellows liked him because he was really so earnest about 
everything, and always just and fair. But he didn't look a bit 
like a soldier except as to his stiffness, and when the fellows who 
had been at Lexington heard that he was in command here 
they did not think he would have made much hand at it; but 
I tell you, he did. You never saw such a fellow to work. 

"Everything had to be done, you know. There were the 
guns, but no horses and no harness. The horses had to be 
got somehow, and the harness manufactured out of ropes; and 
you can imagine the confusion of nine battalions of infantry, 
all recruits, with no one to teach them except a score or two of 
old army and militia officers. Old Tom has done wonders, I can 
tell you. You see, he is so fearfully earnest himself every one 
else has got to be earnest. There has been no playing about 
anything, but just fifteen hours' hard work a day. Fellows 
grumbled and growled and said it was absurd, and threatened 
to do all sorts of things. You see, they had all come out to 
fight if necessary, but hadn't bargained for such hard work as 

" However, Jackson had his way, and I don't suppose anyone 
ever told him the men thought they were too hard worked. 
He is not the sort of man one would care about remonstrating 
with. I don't know yet whether he is as good at fighting as 
he is at working and organizing; but I rather expect a fellow 
who is so earnest about everything else is sure to be earnest 

OLD TOM. 91 

about fighting, and I fancy that when he once gets into the 
thick ot it he will go through with it. He had such a reputa- 
tion as an oddity at Lexington that there were a lot of remarks 
when he was made colonel and sent here; but there is no doubt 
that he has proved himself the right man so far, and although 
his men may grumble they believe in him. 

" My regiment is in his brigade, and I will bet any money 
that we have our share of fighting. What sort of man is 
Johnston 1 He is a fine fellow — a soldier, heart and soul. You 
could tell him anywhere, and we have a first-rate fellow in com- 
mand of the cavalry — Colonel Stuart — a splendid dashing fellow, 
full of life and go. His fellows swear by him. I quite envy 
you, for I expect you will astonish the Yankee horsemen. 
They are no great riders up there, you know, and I expect the 
first time you meet them you will astonish them." 

Here he suddenly stopped, stood at attention, and saluted. 

Vincent at once did the same, although, had he not been set 
the example by his friend, he would never have thought of 
doing so to the figure who passed. 

"Who is itf he asked, as his companion resumed his easy 

" Why, that's Old Tom." 

" What ! Colonel Jackson! " Vincent said in surprise. " Well, 
he is an odd-looking fellow." 

The figure that had passed was that of a tall, gaunt man, 
leaning awkwardly forward in his saddle. He wore an old 
gray coat, and there was no sign of rank, nor particle of gold 
lace upon the uniform. He wore on his head a faded cadet 
cap, with the rim coming dov/n so far upon his nose that he 
could only look sideways from under it. He seemed to pay 
but little attention to what was going on around him, and did 
not enter into conversation with any of the oflBcers he met. 

The brigade commanded by Jackson was the 1st of the army 


of the Shenandoah, and consisted of the 2d, 4th, 5th, and 27th 
Virginians, to which was shortly afterwards added the 33d. 
They were composed of men of all ranks and ages, among them 
being a great number of lads from fifteen and upwards; for 
every school had been deserted. Every boy capable of carry- 
ing a musket had insisted upon joining, and among them were 
a whole company of cadets from Lexington. The regiments 
selected their own officers, and among these were many who 
were still lads. Many of the regiments had no accoutrements, 
and were without uniforms, and numbers carried no better arms 
than a double-barrelled shot-gun; but all were animated with the 
same spirit of enthusiasm in their cause, and a determination 
to die rather than to allow the invaders to pass on through the 
fertile valleys of their native land. 

Of all these valleys that of Shenandoah was the richest and 
most beautiful. It was called the Garden of Virginia; and all 
writers agreed in their praises of the beauties of its fields and 
forests, mountains and rivers, its delicious climate, and the 
general prosperity which prevailed among its population. 

It was a pleasant evening that Ashley's horse spent at Har- 
per's Ferry on the day they marched in. All had many friends 
among the other Virginian regiments, and their camp-fires were 
the centre towards which men trooped by scores. The rest was 
pleasant after their hard marches; and, although ready to do 
their own work when necessary, they appreciated the advan- 
tage of having their servants again with them to groom their 
horses and cook their food. 

The negroes were not less glad at being again with their mas- 
ters. Almost all were men who had, like Dan, been brought 
up with their young owners, and felt for them a strong personal 
attachment, and, if it had been allowed, would gladly have 
followed them in the field of battle, and fought by their side 
against the " Yankees." Their stay at Harper's Ferry was to 



To face p. 

Ashley's troop. 93 

be a short one. Colonel Stuart, with his 200 norse, was scout- 
ing along the whole bank of the Potomac, watching every 
movement of the enemy, and Ashley's horse was to join them 
at once. 

It was not difficult for even young soldiers to form an idea 
of the general nature of the operations. They had to protect 
the Shenandoah Valley, to guard the five great roads by which 
the enemy would advance against Winchester, and not only to 
save the loyal inhabitants and rich resources of the valley from 
falling into the hands of the Federals, but what was of even 
greater importance, to prevent the latter from marching across 
the Blue Eidge Mountains, and falling upon the flank of the 
main Confederate army at Manassas. 

The position was a difficult one, for while "the grand army" 
was assembling at Alexandria to advance against Manassas 
Junction, M"^Clellan was advancing from the North-West with 
20,000 men, and Patterson from Pennsylvania with 18,000. 

In the morning, before parading his troop, 100 strong, Ashley 
called them together and told them that, as they would now be 
constantly on the move and scattered over a long line, it was 
impossible that they could take their servants with them. 

" I should never have allowed them to be brought," he said, 
" had I known that we should be scouting over such an exten- 
sive country; at the same time, if we can manage to take a few 
on it would certainly add to our comfort. I propose that we 
choose ten by lot to go on with us. They must be servants of 
the troop and not of individuals. We can scatter them in pairs 
at five points, with instructions to forage as well as they can, 
and to have things in readiness to cook for whoever may come 
in off duty or may for the time be posted there. Henceforth 
every man must groom and see to his own horse, but I see no 
reason, military or otherwise, why we shouldn't get our food 
cooked for us; and it will be just as well, as long as we can, to 


have a few bundles of straw for us to lie on instead of sleeping 
on the ground. 

" Another ten men we can also choose by lot to go to Win- 
chester; which is, I imagine, the point we shall move to if the 
enemy advance, as I fancy they will, from the other side of the 
Shenandoah Valley. The rest must be sent home." 

Each man accordingly wrote his name on a piece of paper, 
and placed them in a haversack. Ten were then drawn out; 
and their servants were to accompany the troop at once. The 
servants of the next ten were to proceed by train to Winchester, 
while the slaves of all whose names remained in the bag were to 
be sent home at once, provided with passes permitting them to 
travel. To Vincent's satisfaction his name was one of the first 
ten drawn, and Dan was therefore to go forward. The greater 
part of the men evaded the obligation to send their servants 
back to Eichmond by despatching them to friends who had 
estates in the Shenandoah Valley, with letters asking them to 
keep the men for them until the troop happened to come into 
their neighbourhood. 

At six o'clock in the morning the troop mounted and rode 
to Bath, thirty miles away. It was here that Stuart had his 
head- quarters, whence he sent out his patrols up and down the 
Potomac, between Har23er's Ferry on the east and Cumberland 
on the west. Stuart was away when they arrived, but he rode 
in a few hours afterwards. 

"Ah! Ashley, I am glad you have arrived," he said as he 
rode up to the troop, who had hastily mounted as he was seen 
approaching. "There is plenty for you to do, I can tell you; 
and I only wish that you had brought a thousand men instead 
of a hundred. I am heartily glad to see you all, gentlemen," 
he said to the troop. " I am afraid just at first that the bright- 
ness of your gray jackets will put my men rather to shame; but 
we shall soon get rid of that. But dismount your men, Ashley; 


there is plenty for them and their horses to do without wasting 
time in parade work. There is very little of that here, I can 
tell you. I have not seen a score of my men together for the 
last month." 

Vincent gazed with admiration at the young leader, whose 
name was soon to be celebrated throughout America and 
Europe. The young Virginian — for he was not yet twenty- 
eight years old — was the heau ideal of a cavalry officer. He 
was singularly handsome, and possessed great personal strength 
and a constitution which enabled him to bear all hardships. 
He possessed unfailing good spirits, and had a joke and laugh 
for all he met; and while on the march at the head of his regi- 
ment he was always ready to lift up his voice and lead the 
songs with which the men made the woods resound. 

He seemed to live in his saddle, and was present at all hours 
of the night and day along the line he guarded seeing that the 
men were watchful and on the alert, instructing the outposts 
in their duty, and infusing his own spirit and vigilance among 
them. He had been educated at West Point, and had seen much 
service with the cavalry against the Indians in the West. Such 
was the man who was to become the most famous cavalry leader 
of his time. So far he had not come in contact with the enemy, 
and his duties were confined to obtaining information regarding 
their strength and intentions, to watching every road by which 
they could advance, and to seeing that none passed North to 
carry information to the enemy as to the Confederate strength 
and positions, for even in the Shenandoah Valley there were 
some whose sympathies were with the Federals. 

These were principally Northern men settled as traders in 
the towns, and it was important to prevent them from sending 
any news to the enemy. So well did Stuart's cavalry perform 
this service, and so general was the hostility of the population 
against the North, that throughout the whole of the war in 

96 AT WORK. 

Virginia it was very seldom that the Northern generals could 
obtain any trustworthy information as to the movements and 
strength of the Confederates, while the latter were perfectly 
informed of every detail connected with the intentions of the 

The next morning Ashley's troop took up their share of the 
work at the front. They were broken up into parties of ten, 
each of which was stationed at a village near the river, five 
men being on duty night and day. As it happened that none 
of the other men in his squad had a servant at the front, 
Vincent was able without difl&culty to have Dan assigned to 
his party. A house in the village was placed at their disposal, 
and here the five off duty slept and took their meals while 
the others were in the saddle. Dan was quite in his element, 
and turned out an excellent cook, and was soon a general 
favourite among the mess. 













HE next fortnight passed by without adventure. 
Hard as the work was, Vincent enjoyed it thoroughly. 
When on duty by day he was constantly on the 
move, riding through the forest, following country 
lanes, questioning every one he came across; and as the men 
always worked in pairs, there was no feeling of loneliness. 
Sometimes Ashley would draw together a score of troopers, 
and crossing the river in a ferry-boat, would ride twenty miles 
north, and, dashing into quiet villages, astonish the inhabi- 
tants by the sight of the Confederate uniform. Then the 
villagers would be questioned as to the news that had reached 
them of the movements of the troops; the post-office would 
be seized and the letters broken open; any useful information 
contained in them being noted. But in general questions 
were readily answered; for a considerable portion of the 
people of Maryland were strongly in favour of the South, 
and were only prevented from joining it by the strong force 
that held possession of Baltimore, and by the constant move- 
ment of Federal armies through the State. Vincent was often 
employed in carrying despatches from Major Ashley to Stuart, 
being selected for that duty as being the best mounted man 
in the troop. The direction was always a vague one. "Take 
this letter to Colonel Stuart, wherever he may be," and how- 

(538) G 


ever early he started, Vincent thought himself fortunate if he 
carried out his mission before sunset; for Stuart's front covered 
over fifty miles of ground, and there was no saying where he 
might be. Sometimes after riding thirty or forty miles, and 
getting occasional news that Stuart had passed through ahead 
of him, he would learn from some outpost that the colonel had 
been there but ten minutes before, and had ridden off before 
he came, and then Vincent had to turn his horse and gallop back 
again, seldom succeeding in overtaking his active commander 
until the latter had halted for his supper at one or other of the 
villages where his men were stationed. Sometimes by good 
luck he came upon him earlier, and then, after reading the 
despatch, Stuart would, if he were riding in the direction 
where Ashley's command lay, bid him ride on with him, and 
would chat with him on terms of friendly intimacy about 
people they both knew at Eichmond, or as to the details of his 
work, and sometimes they would sit down together under the 
shade of some trees, take out the contents of their haversacks, 
and share their dinners. 

** This is the second time I have had the best of this," the 
colonel laughed one day; "my beef is as hard as leather, and 
this cold chicken of yours is as plump and tender as one could 
wish to eat." 

"I have my own boy, colonel, who looks after the ten of us 
stationed at Elmside, and I fancy that in the matter of cold 
rations he gives me an undue preference. He always hands 
me my haversack when I mount with a grin, and I quite under- 
stand that it is better I should ask no questions as to its con- 

" You are a lucky fellow," Stuart said. "My own servant is 
a good man, and would do anything for me; but my irregular 
hours are too much for him. He never knows when to expect 
me; and as he often finds that when I do return I have made 


a meal an hour before at one of the outposts, and do not want 
the food he has for hours been carefully keeping hot for me, 
it drives him almost to despair, and I have sometimes been 
obliged to eat rather than disappoint him. But he certainly has 
not a genius for cooking, and were it not that this riding gives 
one the appetite of a hunter, I should often have a good deal 
of difficulty in devouring the meat he puts into my haversack." 

But the enemy were now really advancing, and on the 12th 
of June a trooper rode in from the extreme left, and handed to 
Vincent a despatch from Colonel Stuart. 

"My orders were," he said, "that, if you were here, you 
were to carry this on at all speed to General Johnston. If not, 
some one else was to take it on." 

"Any news?" Vincent asked, as aided by Dan he rapidly 
saddled Wildfire. 

"Yes," the soldier said; "2000 of the enemy have advanced 
up the Western side and have occupied Romney, and they say 
that all Patterson's force in on the move." 

"So much the better," Vincent replied, as he jumped into 
the saddle. " We have been doing nothing long enough, and 
the sooner it comes the better." 

It was a fifty mile ride; but it was done in five hours, and 
at the end of that time Vincent dismounted in front of General 
Johnston's quarters. 

"Is the general in?" he asked the sentry at the door. 

"No, he is not in; but here he comes," the soldier replied, 
and two minutes later the general, accompanied by three or 
four officers, rode up. 

Vincent saluted, and handed him the despatch. The general 
opened it and glanced at the contents. 

" The storm is going to burst at last, gentlemen," he said 
to the officers. "Stuart writes me that 2000 men, supposed to 
be the advance of M^'Clellan's army, are at Romney, and that 


he hears Patterson is also advancing from Chambersburg on 
Williamsport. His despatch is dated this morning at nine 
o'clock. He writes from near Cumberland. No time has been 
lost, for that is eighty miles away, and it is but five o'clock 
now. How far have you brought this despatch, sir?" 

"I have brought it from Elmside, general; twenty miles on 
the other side of Bath. A trooper brought it in just at mid- 
day, with orders for me to carry it on at once." 

" That is good work," the general said. " You have ridden 
over fifty miles in five hours. You must be well mounted, sir." 

"I do not think there is a better horse in the State," Vincent 
said, patting Wildfire's neck. 

The general called an orderly. 

"Let this man picket his horse with those of the staff"," he 
said, " and see that it has forage at once. Take the man to 
the orderly's quarters, and see that he is well cared for." 

Vincent saluted, and, leading Wildfire, followed the orderly. 
When he had had a meal, he strolled out to see what was going on 
Evidently some movement was in contemplation. Officers were 
riding up or dashing off from the general's head-quarters. Two 
or three regiments were seen marching down from the plateau 
on which they were encamped into the town. Bells rang and 
drums beat, and presently long trains of railway waggons, 
heavily laden, began to make their way across the bridge. 
Until next morning the movement continued unceasingly; by 
that time all the military stores and public property, together 
with as much private property, belonging to inhabitants who 
had decided to forsake their homes for a time rather than 
to remain there when the town was occupied by the enemy, as 
could be carried on in the available waggons, had been taken 
across the bridge. A party of engineers, who had been all 
night hard at work, then set fire both to the railway bridge 
across the river and the public buildings in the town. The 


main body of troops had moved across in the evening. The 
rear-guard passed when all was in readiness for the destruction 
of the bridge. 

General Johnston had been preparing for the movement for 
some time; he had foreseen that the position must be evacuated 
as soon as the enemy began to advance upon either of his 
flanks, and a considerable portion of his baggage and military 
stores had some time previously been sent into the interior 
of Virginia. The troops, formed up on the high grounds south 
of the river, looked in silence at the dense volumes of smoke 
rising. This was the reality of war. Hitherto their military 
work had been no more than that to which many of them were 
accustomed when called out with the militia of their State; 
but the scene of destruction on w^hich they now gazed brought 
home to them that the struggle was a serious one — that it was 
war in its stern reality which had now begun. 

The troops at once set off on their march, and at night 
bivouacked in the woods around Charlestown. The next day 
they pushed across the country and took up a position covering 
Winchester; and then the enemy, finding that Johnston's army 
was in front of them ready to dispute their advance, recrossed 
the river, and Johnston concentrated his force round Winchester. 

Vincent joined his corps on the same afternoon that the 
infantry marched out from Harper's Ferry, the general sending 
him forward with despatches as soon as the troops had got into 

"You will find Colonel Stuart in front of the enemy; but 
more than that I cannot tell you." 

This w^as quite enough for Vincent, who found the cavalry 
scouting close to Patterson's force, prepared to attack the 
enemy's cavalry should it advance to reconnoitre the country, 
and to blow up bridges across streams, fell trees, and take every 
possible measure to delay the advance of Patterson's army, in 


its attempt to push on towards Winchester before the arrival 
of General Johnston's force upon the scene. 

"I am glad to see you back, Wingfield," Major Ashley said, 
as he rode up. "The colonel tells me that in the despatch he 
got last night from Johnston the general said that Stuart's in- 
formation had reached in a remarkably short time, having 
been carried with great speed by the orderly in charge of the 
duty. We have scarcely been out of our saddles since you 
left. However, I think we have been of use, for we have been 
busy all round the enemy since we arrived here in the after- 
noon, and I fancy he must think us a good deal stronger than 
we are. At any rate, he has not pushed his cavalry forward at 
all; and, as you say Johnston will be up to-morrow afternoon, 
Winchester is safe anyhow." 

After the Federals had recrossed the river, and Johnston had 
taken up his position round Winchester, the cavalry returned 
to their old work of scouting along the Potomac. 

On the 20th of June movements of considerable bodies of 
the enemy were noticed; and Johnston at once despatched 
Jackson with his brigade to Martinsburg, with orders to send 
as much of the rolling-stock of the railroad as could be removed 
to Winchester, to destroy the rest, and to support Stuart's 
cavalry when they advanced. A number of locomotives were 
sent to Winchester along the highroad, drawn by teams of 
horses. Forty engines and 300 cars were burned or destroyed, 
and Jackson then advanced and took up his position on the 
road to Williamsport, the cavalry camp being a little in advance 
of him. This was pleasant for Vincent, as when off duty he 
spent his time with his friends and school-fellows in Jackson's 

On the 2d of July the scouts rode into camp with the news 
that a strong force was advancing from Williamsport. Jack- 
son at once advanced with the 5th Virginia Infantry, numbering 


380 men and one gun, while Stuart, with 100 cavalry, started 
to make a circuitous route, and harassed the flank and rear of 
the enemy. There was no intention on the part of Jackson of 
fighting a battle, his orders being merely to feel the enemy; 
whose strength was far too great to be withstood even had he 
brought his whole brigade into action, for they numbered three 
brigades of infantry, 500 cavalry, and some artillery. 

For some hours the little Confederate force skirmished so 
boldly that they checked the advance of the enemy, whose 
general naturally supposed that he had before him the advanced 
guard of a strong force, and therefore moved forward with 
great caution. Then the Confederates, being threatened on 
both flanks by the masses of the Federals, fell back in good 
order. The loss was very trifling on either side, but the fact 
that so small a force had for hours checked the advance of an 
army greatly raised the spirits and confidence of the Con- 
federates. Stuart's small cavalry force, coming down upon 
the enemy's rear, captured a good many prisoners — Colonel 
Stuart himself capturing forty-four infantry. Riding some 
distance ahead of his troop to find out the position of the 
enemy, he came upon a company of Federal infantry sitting 
down in a field, having no idea whatever that any Confederate 
force was in the neighbourhood. Stuart did not hesitate a 
moment, but riding up to them shouted the order, "Throw 
down your arms, or you are all dead men." Believing them- 
selves surrounded, the Federals threw down their arms, and 
when the Confederate cavalry came up were marched off as 

Jackson, on reaching his camp, struck his tents and sent 
them to the rear, and formed up his whole brigade in order of 
battle. The Federals, however, instead of attacking continued 
their flank movement, and Jackson fell back through Martins- 
burg and halted for the night a mile beyond the town. 


Next day he again retired, and was joined six miles further 
on by Johnston's whole force. For four days the little army 
held its position, prepared to give battle if the enemy advanced; 
but the Federals, though greatly superior in numbers, remained 
immovable at Martinsburg, and Johnston, to the great disgust 
of his troops, retired to Winchester. The soldiers were longing 
to meet the invaders in battle, but their general had to bear in 
mind that the force under his command might at any moment 
be urgently required to join the main Confederate army, and 
aid in opposing the Northern advance upon Kichmond. 

Stuart's cavalry kept him constantly informed of the strength 
of the enemy gathering in his front. Making circuits round 
Martinsburg, they learned from the farmers what numbers of 
troops each day came along; and while the Federals knew 
nothing of the force opposed to them, and believed that it far 
outnumbered their own. General Johnston knew that Patterson's 
force numbered about 22,000 men, while he himself had been 
joined only by some 3000 men since he arrived at Winchester. 

On the 18th of July a telegram from the government at 
Eichmond announced that the Federal grand army had driven 
in General Beauregard's pickets at Manassas, and had begun to 
advance, and Johnston was directed if possible to hasten to his 
assistance. A few earthworks had been thrown up at Win- 
chester, and some guns mounted upon them, and the town was 
left under the protection of the local militia. Stuart's cavalry 
was posted in a long line across the country to prevent any 
news of the movement reaching the enemy. As soon as this 
was done the infantry, 8300 strong, marched off. The troops 
were in high spirits now, for they knew that their long period 
of inactivity was over, and that, although ignorant when and 
where, they were on their march to meet the enemy. 

They had no waggons or rations; the need for speed was too 
urgent even to permit of food being cooked. Without a halt they 


pressed forward steadily, and after two days' march, exhausted 
and half famished, they reached the Manassas Gap Railroad. 
Here they were put into trains as fast as these could be pre- 
pared, and by noon on the 20th joined Beauregard at Manassas. 
The cavalry had performed their duty of preventing the news 
of the movement from reaching the enemy until the infantry 
were nearly a day's march away, and then Stuart reassembled 
his men and followed Johnston. Thus the Confederate plans had 
been completely successful. Over 30,000 of the enemy, instead 
of being in line of battle with the main army, were detained 
before Winchester, while the little Confederate force who had 
been facing them had reached Beauregard in time to take part 
in the approaching struggle. 

In the North no doubt as to the power of the grand army 
to make its way to Richmond was entertained. The troops 
were armed with the best weapons obtainable, the artillery 
was numerous and excellent, the army was fed with every 
luxury, and so confident were the men of success that they 
regarded the whole affair in the light of a great picnic. The 
grand army numbered 55,000 men, with 9 regiments of cavalry 
and 49 rifle-guns. To oppose these, the Confederate force, 
after the arrival of Johnston's army, numbered 27,833 infantry, 
35 smooth-bored guns, and 500 cavalry. Many of the infantry 
were armed only with shot-guns and old fowling-pieces, and the 
guns were small and ill-suppHed with ammunition. There had 
been some sharp fighting on the 18th, and the Federal advance 
across the river of Bull Run had been sharply repulsed, 
therefore their generals determined, instead of making a direct 
attack on the 31st against the Confederate position, to take a 
wide sweep round, cross the river higher up, and falling upon 
the Confederate left flank, to crumple it up. 

All night the Federal troops had marched, and at daybreak 
on the 21st nearly 40,000 men were in position on the left 


flank of the Confederates. The latter were not taken by 
surprise when Stuart's cavalry brought in news of the Federal 
movement, and General Beauregard, instead of moving his 
troops towards the threatened point, sent orders to General 
Longstreet on the right to cross the river as soon as the battle 
began, and to fall upon the Federal flank and rear. 

Had this movement been carried out, the destruction of the 
Federal army would have been complete; but by one of those 
unfortunate accidents which so frequently occur in war and 
upset the best laid plans, the order in some way never came to 
hand, and when late in the day the error was discovered it 
was too late to remedy it. 

At eight o'clock in the morning two of the Federal divisions 
reached the river, and while one of them engaged the Con- 
federate force stationed at the bridge, another crossed the river 
at a ford. Colonel Evans, who commanded the Confederate 
forces, which numbered but fifteen companies, left 200 men to 
continue to hold the bridge, while with 800 he hurried to op- 
pose General Hunter's division, which had crossed at the ford. 

This consisted of 16,000 infantry, with cavalry and artillery, 
and another division of equal force had crossed at the Red 
House ford higher up. To check so great a force with this 
handful of men seemed all but impossible; but Colonel Evans 
determined to hold his ground to the last, to enable his general 
to bring up reinforcements. His force consisted of men of 
South Carolina and Louisiana, and they contested every foot of 
the ground. 

The regiment which formed the advance of the Federals 
charged, supported by an artillery fire, but was repulsed. As 
the heavy Federal line advanced, however, the Confederates 
were slowly but steadily pressed back, until General Bee with 
four regiments and a battery of artillery came up to their assist- 
ance. The new-comers threw themselves into the fight with 


great gallantry, and maintained their ground until almost anni- 
hilated by the fire of the enemy, who outnumbered them by 
five to one. As, fighting desperately, they fell back before 
Hunter's division, the Federals who had crossed at Eed House 
Ford suddenly poured down and took them in flank. 

Swept by a terrible musketry fire, these troops could no 
longer resist, and in spite of the efforts of their general, who 
rode among them imploring them to stand firm until aid 
arrived, they began to fall back. Neither entreaties nor 
commands were of avail; the troops had done all that they 
could, and broken and disheartened they retreated in great 
confusion. But at this moment, when all seemed lost, a line 
of glittering bayonets was seen coming over the hill behind, 
and the general, riding off in haste towards them, found 
Jackson advancing with the first brigade. 

Unmoved by the rush of the fugitives of the brigades of Bee 
and Evans, Jackson moved steadily forward, and so firm and 
resolute was their demeanour, that Bee rode after his men, and 
pointing with his sword to the first brigade, shouted, "Look, 
there is Jackson standing like a stone wall!" The general's 
words were repeated, and henceforth the brigade was known 
as the Stonewall Brigade, and their general by the nickname of 
Stonewall Jackson, by which he was ever afterwards known. 
The greater part of the fugitives rallied, and took up their 
position on the right of Jackson, and the Federal forces, who 
were hurrying forward assured of victory, found themselves 
confronted suddenly by 2600 bayonets. After a moment's 
pause they pressed forward again, the artillery preparing a way 
for them by a tremendous fire. 

Jackson ordered his men to lie down until the enemy 
arrived within fifty yards, and then to charge with the bayonet. 
Just at this moment Generals Johnston and Beauregard arrived 
on the spot, and at once seeing the desperate nature of the 


situation, and the whole Federal army pressing forward against 
a single brigade, they did their best to prepare to meet the 
storm. First they galloped up and down the disordered lines 
of Bee, exhorting the men to stand firm; and seizing the colours 
of the fourth Alabama, Johnston led them forward and formed 
them up under fire. 

Beauregard hurried up some reinforcements and formed 
them on the left of Jackson, and thus 6500 infantry and 
artillery, and Stuart's two troops of cavalry, stood face to face 
with more than 20,000 infantry and seven troops of regular 
cavalry, behind whom at the lower fords were 35,000 men in 
reserve. While his men were lying down awaiting the attack, 
Jackson rode backwards and forwards in front of them as calm 
and as unconcerned to all appearance as if on the parade 
ground, and his quiet bravery greatly nerved and encouraged 
the young troops. 

All at once the tremendous artillery fire of the enemy ceased, 
and their infantry came on in massive lines. The four Con- 
federate guns poured in their fire and then withdrew behind 
the infantry. When the line came within fifty yards of him, 
Jackson gave the word, his men sprang to their feet, poured 
in a heavy volley, and then charged. A wild yell rose from 
both ranks as they closed, and then they were mingled in a 
desperate conflict For a time all was in wild confusion, but 
the ardour and courage of Jackson's men prevailed, and they 
burst through the centre of the Federal line. 

Immediately Jackson had charged, Beauregard sent forward 
the rest of the troops, and for a time a tremendous struggle 
took place along the whole line. Generals Bee and Barlow 
fell mortally wounded at the head of their troops. General 
Hampton was wounded, and many of the colonels fell. So 
numerous were the Federals, that although Jackson had pierced 
their centre, their masses drove back his flanks and threatened 


to surround him. With voice and example he cheered on his 
men to hold their ground, and the officers closed up their ranks 
as they were thinned by the enemy's fire, and for an hour the 
struggle continued without marked advantage on either side. 

Jackson's calmness was unshaken even in the excitement of 
the fight. At one time an officer rode up to him from another 
portion of the field and exclaimed, " General, I think the day 
is going against usl" To which Jackson replied in his usual 
curt manner, "If you think so, sir, you had better not say 
anything about it." 

The resolute stand of the Confederates enabled General 
Beauregard to bring up fresh troops, and he at last gave the 
word to advance. 

Jackson's brigade rushed forward on receiving the order, 
burst through the Federals with whom they were engaged, and, 
supported by the reserves, drove the enemy from the plateau. 
But the Federals, still vastly superior in force, brought up 
the reserves, and prepared to renew the attack; but 1700 fresh 
men of the army of the Shenandoah came upon the field of 
battle. Smith and Early brought up their divisions from the 
river, and the whole Southern line advanced at the charge, 
drove the enemy down the slopes and on towards the fords. 

A panic seized them, and their regiments broke up and took 
to headlong flight, which soon became an utter rout. Many 
of them continued their flight for hours, and for a time the 
Federal army ceased to exist; and had the Confederates ad- 
vanced, as Jackson desired that they should do, Washington 
would have fallen into their hands without a blow being struck 
in its defence. 

This, the first great battle of the war, is sometimes known 
as the battle of Manassas, but more generally as Bull Eun. 

With the exception of one or two charges, the little body of 
Confederate horse did not take any part in the battle of Bull 


Run. Had they been aware of the utter stampede of the 
Northern troops, they could safely have pressed forward in hot 
pursuit as far as Washington, but being numerically so inferior 
to the Federal cavalry, and in ignorance that the Northern 
infantry had become a mere panic-stricken mob, it would have 
been imprudent in the extreme for such a handful of cavalry 
to undertake the pursuit of an army. 

Many of the Confederates were of opinion that this decisive 
victory would be the end of the war, and that the North, seeing 
that the South was able as well as willing to defend the posi- 
tion it had taken up, would abandon the idea of coercing 
it into submission. This hope was speedily dissipated. The 
North was indeed alike astonished and disappointed at the 
defeat of their army by a greatly inferior force, but instead of 
abandoning the struggle, they set to work to retrieve the disaster, 
and to place in the field a force which would, they believed, 
prove irresistible. 

Vincent Wingfield saw but little of the battle at Bull Run. 
As they were impatiently waiting the order to charge, while the 
desperate conflict between Jackson's brigade and the enemy 
was at its fiercest, a shell from one of the Federal batteries 
burst a few yards in front of the troop, and one of the pieces 
striking Vincent on the side hurled him insensible from his 
horse. He was at once lifted and carried by Dan and some 
of the other men-servants, who had been told off for this duty, 
to the rear, where the surgeons were busily engaged in dressing 
the wounds of the men who -straggled back from the front. 
While the conflict lasted those unable to walk lay where they 
fell, for no provision had at present been made for ambulance 
corps, and not a single man capable of firing a musket could 
be spared from the ranks. The tears were flowing copiously 
down Dan's cheeks as he stood by while the surgeons examined 
Vincent's wound. 


"Is he dead, sah?" he sobbed as they lifted him up from his 
stooping position. 

" Dead !" the surgeon repeated. "Can't you see he is breath- 
ing, and did you not hear him groan when I examined his 
side ? He is a long way from being a dead man yet. Some of 
his ribs are broken, and he has had a very nasty blow; but I 
do not think there is any cause for anxiety about him. Pour a 
little wine down his throat, and sprinkle his face with water. 
Raise his head and put a coat under it, and when he opens his 
eyes and begins to recover, don't let him move. Then you 
can cut up the side of his jacket and down the sleeve, so as 
to get it off that side altogether. Cut his shirt open, and bathe 
the wound with some water and bit of rag of any sort; it is 
not likely to bleed much. When it has stopped bleeding put 
a pad of linen upon it, and keep it wet. When we can spare 
time we will bandage it properly." 

But it was not until late at night that the time could be 
spared for attending to Vincent; for the surgeons were over- 
whelmed with work, and the most serious cases were, as far as 
possible, first attended to. He had soon recovered conscious- 
ness. At first he looked with a feeling of bewilderment at 
Dan, who was copiously sprinkling his face with water, sobbing 
loudly while he did so. As soon as the negro perceived that 
his master had opened his eyes he gave a cry of delight. 

"Tank de Lord, marse Vincent; dis child tought you dead 
and gone for sure." 

"What's the matter, Dan? What has happened?" Vincent 
said, trying to move, and then stopping suddenly with a cry of 

"You knocked off your horse, sah, wid one of shells of dem 
cussed Yanks." 

"Am I badly hurt, Dan?" 

" Berry bad, sah ; great piece of flesh pretty nigh as big as 


my hand come out ob your side, and doctor says some of de 
ribs broken. But de doctor not seem to make much ob it; he 
hard sort ob man dat. Say you get all right again. No time 
to tend to you now. Hurry away just as if you some poor 
white trash instead of Massa Wingfield ob de Orangery." 

Vincent smiled faintly. 

"It doesn't make much difference what a man is in a 
surgeon's eyes, Dan; the question is how badly he is hurt, and 
what can be done for him? Well, thank God it's no worse. 
Wildfire was not hurt, I hope?" 

*' No, sah; he is standing tied up by dat tree. Now, sah, de 
doctor say me cut your jacket off and have de wound." 

"All right, Dan; but be a little careful with the water, you 
seem to be pretty near drowning me as it is. Just wipe my 
face and hair, and get the handkerchief from the pocket of my 
jacket, and open the shirt collar and put the handkerchief 
inside round my neck. How is the battle going on? The roar 
seems louder than ever." 

Dan went forward to the crest of a slight rise of the ground 
whence he could look down upon the field of battle, and made 
haste to return. 

"Can't see berry well, sah; too much smoke. But dey in de 
same place still." 

"Look round, Dan, and see if there are any fresh troops 
coming up." 

"Yes, sah; lot of men coming ober de hill behind." 

"That's all right, Dan. Now you can see about this bath- 
ing my side." 

As soon as the battle was over. Major Ashley rode up to 
where Vincent and five or six of his comrades of the cavalry 
were lying wounded. 

"How are you getting on, lads? Pretty well I hope?" he 
asked the surgeon as he dismounted. 


"First rate, major," one of the men answered. "We all 
of us took a turn as soon as we heard that the Yanks were 

"Yes, we have thrashed them handsomely," the major said. 
"Ah, AYingfield, I am glad to see you are alive. I thought 
when you fell it was all over with you." 

"I am not much hurt, sir," Vincent replied. "A flesh wound 
and some ribs are broken, I hear; but they won't be long mend- 
ing, I hope." 

"It's a nasty wound to look at," the major said, as Dan 
lifted the pad of wet linen. "But with youth and health you 
will soon get round it, never fear." 

"Ah, my poor lad, yours is a worse case," he said as he 
bent over a young fellow who was lying a few paces from 

"It's all up with me, major," he replied faintly; "the doctor 
said he could do nothing for me. But I don't mind, now we 
have beaten them. You will send a line to the old people, 
major, won't you, and say I died doing my duty? I've got 
two brothers, and I expect they will send one on to take my 

"I will write to them, my lad," the major said, "and tell 
them all about you." He could give the lad no false hopes, for 
already a gray shade was stealing over the white face, and the 
end was close at hand; in a few minutes he ceased to breathe. 

Late in the evening the surgeons, having attended to more 
urgent cases, came round. Vincent's wound was now more 
carefully examined than before, but the result was the same. 
Three of the ribs were badly fractured, but there was no 
serious danger. 

" You will want quiet and good nursing for some time, my 
lad," the principal surgeon said. "There will be a train of 
wounded going off for Richmond the first thing in the morn- 

(538) H 


ing, and you shall go by it. You had better get a door, lads," 
he said to some of the troopers who had come across from the 
spot where the cavalry were bivouacked to see how their com- 
rades were getting on, " and carry him down and put him in 
the train. One has just been sent off, and another will be made 
up at once, so that the wounded can be put in it as they are 
taken down. Now I will bandage the wound, and it will not 
want any more attention until you get home." 

A wad of lint, was placed upon the wound and bandaged 
tightly round the body. 

"Eemember you have got to lie perfectly quiet, and not 
attempt to move till the bones have knit. I am afraid that 
they are badly fractured, and will require some time to heal up 

A door was fetched from an out-house near, and Vincent and 
two of his comrades, who were also ordered to be sent to the rear, 
were one by one carried down to the nearest point on the rail- 
way, where a train stood ready to receive them, and they were 
then laid on the seats. 

All night the wounded kept arriving, and by morning the 
train was packed as full as it would hold, and with two or 
three surgeons in charge started for Eichmond. Dan was per- 
mitted to accompany the train, at Vincent's urgent request, in 
the character of doctor's assistant, and he went about distribut- 
ing water to the wounded, and assisting the surgeons in moving 
such as required it. 

It was night before the train reached Richmond. A number 
of people were at the station to receive it; for as soon as the 
news of the battle had been received, preparations had been 
made for the reception of the wounded, several public build- 
ings had been converted into hospitals, and numbers of the 
citizens had come forward with offers to take one or more of 
the wounded into their houses. The streets were crowded 


with people, who were wild with joy at the news of the vic- 
tory which, as they believed, had secured the State from any 
further fear of invasion. Numbers of willing hands were in 
readiness to carry the wounded on stretchers to the hospitals, 
where all the surgeons of the town were already waiting 
to attend upon them. 

Vincent, at his own request, was only laid upon a bed, as he 
said that he would go home to be nursed the first thing in the 
morning. This being the case it was needless to put him to 
the pain and trouble of being undressed. Dan had started 
as soon as he saw his master carried into the hospital to take 
the news to the Orangery, being strictly charged by Vincent to 
make light of his injury, and on no account whatever to alarm 
them. He was to ask that the carriage should come to fetch 
him the first thing in the morning. 

It was indeed but just daybreak when Mrs. Wingfield drove 
up to the hospital. Dan had been so severely cross-examined 
that he had been obliged to give an accurate account of Vin- 
cent's injury. There was bustle and movement even at that 
early hour, for another train of wounded had just arrived. 
As she entered the hospital she gave an exclamation of pleasure, 
for at the door were two gentlemen in conversation, one of 
whom was the doctor who had long attended the family at the 

"I am glad you are here, Dr. Mapleston; for I want your 
opinion before I move Vincent. Have you seen him?" 

"No, Mrs. Wingfield; I did not know he was here. I have 
charge of one of the wards, and have not had time to see who 
are in the others. I sincerely hope Vincent is not seriously 

" That's what I want to find out, doctor. His boy brought 
us news late last night that he was here. He said the doctors 
considered that he was not in any danger; but as it seems that 

116 THE surgeon's OPINION. 

he had three ribs broken and a deep flesh wound from the ex- 
plosion of a shell, it seems to me that it must be serious." 

" I will go up and see him at once, Mrs. Wingfield, and find 
out from the surgeon in charge of his ward exactly what is the 
matter with him." Dan led the way to the bed upon which 
Vincent was lying. He was only dozing, and opened his eyes 
as they came up. 

" My poor boy," Mrs. Wingfield said, struggling with her 
tears at the sight of his pale face, *' this is sad indeed." 

"It is nothing very bad, mother," Vincent replied cheer- 
fully; "nothing at all to fret about. The wound is nothing to 
the injuries of most of those here. I suppose, doctor, I can be 
moved at once?" 

Doctor Mapleston felt his pulse. 

"You are feverish, my lad; but perhaps the best thing for 
you would be to get you home while you can be moved. You 
will do far better there than here. But I must speak to the 
surgeon in charge of you first, and hear what he says." 

" Yes, I think you can move him," the surgeon of the ward 
said. " He has got a nasty wound, and the ticket with him said 
that three ribs were badly fractured; but I made no examina- 
tion, as he said he would be fetched the first thing this morn- 
ing. I only put on a fresh dressing and bandaged it. The 
sooner you get him off the better, if he is to be moved. Fever is 
setting in, and he will probably be wandering by this evening. 
He will have a much better chance at home, with cool rooms 
and quiet and careful nursing, than he can have here; though 
there would be no lack of either comforts or nurses, for half 
the ladies in the town have volunteered for the work, and we 
have offers of all the medical comforts that could be required 
were the list of wounded ten times as large as it is." 

A stretcher was brought in, and Vincent was lifted as gently 
as possible upon it. Then he was carried downstairs and the 


stretcher placed in the carriage; which was a large open one, 
and afforded just sufficient length for it. Mrs. Wingfield took 
her seat beside him, Dan mounted the box beside the coach- 

" I will be out in an hour, Mrs. Wingfield," Dr. Mapleston 
said. "I have to go round the ward again, and will then 
drive out at once. Give him lemonade and cooling drinks; 
don't let him talk. Cut his clothes off him, and keep the 
room somew^hat dark, but with a free current of air. I will 
bring out some medicine with me." 

The carriage drove slowly to avoid shaking, and when they 
approached the house Mrs. Wingfield told Dan to jump down 
and come to the side of her carriage. Then she told him to 
run on as fast as he could ahead, and to tell her daughters not 
to meet them upon their arrival, and that all the servants were 
to be kept out of the way, except three men to carry Vincent 
upstairs. The lad was consequently got up to his room with- 
out any excitement, and was soon lying on his bed with a 
sheet thrown lightly over him. 

"That is comfortable," he said, as his mother bathed his 
face and hands and smoothed his hair. *' Where are the girls, 

" They will come in to see you now, Vincent; but you are 
to keep quite quiet you know, and not to talk" The girls 
stole in and said a few words, and left him alone again with 
Mrs. Wingfield. He did not look to them so ill as they had 
expected, for there was a flush of fever on his cheeks. Dr. 
Mapleston arrived in another half-hour, examined and redressed 
the wound, and comforted Mrs. Wingfield with the assurance 
that there was nothing in it Ukely to prove dangerous to life. 

" Our trouble will be rather with the effect of the shock 
than with the wound itself. He is very feverish now, and you 
must not be alarmed if by this evening he is delirious. You 


will give him this cooling draught every three hours; he can 
have anything in the way of cooling drinks he likes. If he 
begins to wander, put cloths dipped in cold water and wrung 
out on his head, and sponge his hands with water with a little 
eau de Cologne in it. If he seems very hot set one of the 
women to fan him, but don't let her go on if it seems to worry 
him. I will come round again at half-past nine this evening 
and will make arrangements to pass the night here. We have 
telegrams saying that surgeons are coming from Charlestown 
and many other places, so I can very well be spared." 

When the doctor returned in the evening, he found, as he 
had anticipated, that Vincent was in a high state of fever. This 
continued four or five days, and then gradually passed off; and 
he woke up one morning perfectly conscious. His mother was 
sitting on a chair at the bedside. 

"What o'clock is it, mother?" he asked. "Have I been 
asleep long?" 

" Some time, dear," she answered gently; " but you must 
not talk. You are to take this draught and to go off to sleep 
again; when you wake you may ask any questions you like. ' 
She lifted the lad's head, gave him the draught and some cold 
tea, then darkened the room, and in a few minutes he was 
asleep again. 



I^^^^^T was some weeks before Vincent was able to walk 
IM ^J ^^^i*^^^- His convalescence was somewhat slow, for 
|@LH|j ^^® shock to the system had been a severe one. 

~~ The long railway journey had been injurious to 

him, for the bandage had become somewhat loose and the 
broken pieces of bone had grated upon each other, and were 
much longer in knitting together than they would have been 
had he been treated on the spot. 

As soon as he could walk he began to be anxious to rejoin 
his troop, but the doctor said that many weeks must elapse 
before he would be ready to undergo the hardships of cam- 
paign. He was reconciled to some extent to the delay by 
letters from his friends with the troop and by the perusal of 
the papers. There was nothing whatever doing in Virginia. 
The two armies still faced each other, the Northerners pro- 
tected by the strong fortifications they had thrown up round 
Washington — fortifications much too formidable to be attacked 
by the Confederates, held as they were by a force immensely 
superior to their own, both in numbers and arms. 

The Northerners were indeed hard at work, collecting and 
organizing an army which was to crush out the rebellion. 
General Scott had been succeeded by M^'Clellan in the supreme 
command, and the new general was indefatigable in organizing 


the vast masses of men raised in the North. So great were 
the efforts, that in a few months after the defeat of Bull Run 
the North had 650,000 men in arms. 

But while no move had at present been made against 
Virginia there was sharp fighting in some of the border states, 
especially in Missouri and Kentucky, in both of which public 
opinion was much divided, and regiments were raised on both 

Various operations were now undertaken by the Federal 
fleet at points along the coast, and several important positions 
were taken and occupied, it being impossible for the Con- 
federates to defend so long a line of sea-coast. The South 
had lost rather than gained ground in consequence of their 
victory at Bull Run. For a time they had been unduly 
elated, and were disposed altogether to underrate their enemies 
and to believe that the struggle was as good as over. Thus, 
then, they made no effort at all corresponding to that of the 
North; but as time went on, and they saw the vastness of the 
preparations made for their conquest, the people of the Southern 
States again bestirred themselves. 

Owing to the North having the command of the sea, and 
shutting up all the principal ports, they had to rely upon 
themselves for everything, while the North could draw arms 
and ammunition and all the requisites of war from the markets 
of Europe. Foundries were accordingly established for the 
manufacture of artillery, and factories for muskets, ammuni- 
tion, and percussion caps. The South had, in fact, to manu- 
facture everything down to the cloth for her soldiers' uniforms 
and the leather for their shoes; and, as in the past she had 
relied wholly upon the North for such goods, it was for a time 
impossible to supply the troops with even the most necessary 

The women throughout the States were set to work, spinning 


and weaving rough cloth, and making uniforms from it. Leather, 
however, cannot be produced all at once, and indeed with all 
their efiforts the Confederate authorities were never throughout 
the war able to provide a sufhcient supply of boots for the 
troops, and many a battle was won by soldiers who fought 
almost barefooted, and who reshod themselves for the most 
part by stripping the boots from their dead foes. Many other 
articles could not be produced in the Southern States, and the 
Confederates suffered much from the want of proper medicines 
and surgical appliances. 

For these and many other necessaries they had to depend 
solely upon the ships which succeeded in making their way 
through the enemy's cruisers and running the blockade of the 
ports. Wine, tea, coffee, and other imported articles soon be- 
came luxuries beyond the means of all, even the very wealthy. 
All sorts of substitutes were used; grain roasted and ground 
being chiefly used as a substitute for coffee. Hitherto the 
the South had been principally occupied in raising cotton and 
tobacco, depending chiefly upon the North for food; and it 
was necessary now to abandon the cultivation of products for 
which they had no sale, and to devote the land to the growth 
of maize and other crops for food. 

By the time that the long period of inaction came to a close, 
Vincent had completely recovered his strength, and was ready 
to rejoin the ranks as soon as the order came from Colonel 
Stuart, who had promised to send for him directly there was 
a prospect of active service. 

One of Vincent's first questions as soon as he became con- 
valescent was whether a letter had been received from Tony. 
It had come, he was told, among the last batch of letters that 
crossed the frontier before the outbreak of hostilities, and Mrs. 
Wingfield had, as he had requested, opened it. As had been 
arranged, it had merely contained Tony's address at a village 


near Montreal; for Vincent had warned him to say nothing 
in the letter, for there was no saying, in the troubled times 
which were approaching when Tony left, into whose hands it 
might fall. 

Vincent had, before starting, told his mother of the share he 
had taken in getting the negro safely away, and Mrs. Wingfield, 
brought up as she had been to regard those who assisted run- 
away slaves to escape in the same light as those who assisted 
to steal any other kind of property, was at first greatly shocked 
when she heard that her son had taken part in such an enter- 
prise, however worthy of compassion the slave might be, and 
however brutal the master from whose hands he had fled. 
However, as Vincent was on the point of starting for the war 
to meet danger, and possibly death, in the defence of Virginia, 
she had said little, and that little was in reference rather to the 
imprudence of the course he had taken than to what she re- 
garded in her own mind as its folly, and indeed its crimin- 

She had, however, promised that as soon as Tony's letter 
arrived she would, if it was still possible, forward Dinah and 
the child to him, supplying her with money for the journey, 
and giving her the papers freeing her from slavery which Vin- 
cent had duly signed in the presence of a justice. When the 
letter came, however, it was already too late. Fighting was 
on the point of commencing, all intercourse across the border 
was stopped, the trains were all taken up for the conveyance 
of troops, and even a man would have had great difficulty in 
passing northward, while for an unprotected negress with a 
baby such a journey would have been impossible. 

Mrs. Wingfield had therefore written four times at fort- 
nightly intervals to Tony, saying that it was impossible to send 
Dinah off at present, but that she should be despatched as soon 
as the troubles were over, upon receipt of another letter from him 


saying that his address was unchanged, or giving a new one. 
These letters were duly posted, and it was probable that one 
or other of them would in time reach Tony, as mails were sent 
off to Europe, whenever an opportunity offered for them to be 
taken by a steamei running the blockade from a southern port. 
Dinah, therefore, still remained at the Orangery. She was 
well and happy, for her life there was a delightful one indeed 
after her toil and hardship at the Jackson's; and, although she 
was anxious to join her husband, the knowledge that he was 
well and safe from all pursuit, and^that sooner or later she 
would join him with her child, was sufficient to make her per- 
fectly contented. 

During Vincent's illness she had been his most constant 
attendant; for her child now no longer required her care, and 
passed much of its time down at the nursery, where the young 
children of the slaves were looked after by two or three aged 
negresses past active work. She had therefore begged Mrs. 
Wingfield to be allowed to take her place by the bedside of 
her young master, and, after giving her a trial, Mrs. Wingfield 
found her so quiet, gentle, and patient that she installed her 
there, and was able to obtain the rest she needed, with a feeling 
of confidence that Vincent would be well attended to in her 

When Vincent was well enough to be about again, his sisters 
were surprised at the change that had taken place in him since 
he had started a few months before for the war. It was not 
so much that he had grown, though he had done so consider- 
ably, but that he was much older in manner and appearance. 
He had been doing man's work — work requiring vigilance, 
activity, and courage, and they could no longer treat him as 
a boy. As he became stronger he took to riding about the 
plantation; but not upon Wildfire, for his horse was still with 
the troop, Colonel Stuart having promised to see that the 


animal was well cared for, and that no one should ride upon it 
but himself. 

*' I hope you like Jonas Pearson better than you used to do, 
Vincent," Mrs. Wingfield said a day or two before he started 
to rejoin his troop. 

"I can't say I do, mother," he replied shortly. "The man 
is very civil to me now — too civil, in fact; but I don't like him, 
and I don't believe he is honest. I don't mean that he would 
cheat you, though he may do so for anything I know; but he 
pretends to be a violent , Secessionist, which as he comes from 
Vermont is not natural, and I imagine he would sing a different 
tune if the blue coats ever get to Kichmond. Still I have 
nothing particular to say against him, except that I don't like 
him and I don't trust him. So long as everything goes on 
well for the Confederacy I don't suppose it matters, but if we 
should ever get the worst of it you will see that fellow will be 

" However, I hear that he has obeyed your orders, and that 
there has been no flogging on the estate since I went away. 
In fact, as far as I can see, he does not keep anything like such 
a sharp hand over the slaves as he used to do; and in some of 
the fields the work seems to be done in a very slovenly way. 
What his game is I don't know; but I have no doubt whatever 
that he has some game in his mind." 

*'You are a most prejudiced boy," Mrs. AVingfield said, 
laughing. " First of all the man is too strict, and you were 
furious about it; now you think he's too lenient, and you at 
once suspect he has what you call a game of some sort or 
other on. You are hard to please indeed." 

Vincent smiled. " Well, as I told you once before, we shall 
see. I hope I am wrong, and that Pearson is all that you 
believe him to be. I own that I may be prejudiced against 
him; but nothing will persuade me that it was not from him 


that Jackson learned that Dinah was here, and it was to that 
we owe the visit of the sheriff and the searching the plantation 
for Tony. However, whatever the man is at heart, he can, as 
far as I see, do you no injury as long as things go on as they 
are, and I sincerely trust he will never have an opportunity of 
doing so." 

During the winter Vincent had made the acquaintance of 
many of the Southern leaders. The town was the centre of 
the movement, the heart of the Confederacy. It was against 
it, as the capital of the Southern States, that the efforts of 
the Northerns were principally directed, and to it flocked the 
leading men from all parts of the country. Although every 
Virginian family had some of its members at the front, and a 
feeling of anxiety reigned everywhere, a semblance of gaiety 
was kept up. The theatre was opened, and parties and balls 
given, in order to keep up the spirits of the people by the 
example of those of higher rank. 

These balls differed vridely in a^Dpearance from those of eigh- 
teen months before. The gentlemen were almost all in uniform, 
and already calicoes and other cheap fabrics were worn by 
many of the ladies, as foreign dress materials could no longer 
be purchased. Mrs. Wingfield made a point of always attend- 
ing with her daughters at these entertainments, which to the 
young people afforded a cheerful break in the dulness and 
monotony of their usual hfe; for owing to the absence of 
almost all the young men with the army, there had been a long 
cessation of the pleasant interchange of visits, impromptu 
parties, and social gatherings that had formed a feature in the 
life in Virginia. 

The balls would have been but dull affairs had only the resi- 
dents of Eichmond been present; but leave was granted as 
much as possible to officers stationed with regiments within a 
railway run of the town, and as these eagerly availed themselves 


of the change from the monotony of camp life, the girls had 
no reason to complain of want of partners. Here and at the 
receptions given by President Davis, Vincent met ail the leaders 
of the Confederacy, civil and military. Many of them had been 
personal friends of the Wingfields before the Secession move- 
ment began, and among them was General Magruder, who 
commanded the troops round Eichmond. 

Early in the winter the general had called at the Orangery. 
"We are going to make a call upon the patriotism of the planters 
of this neighbourhood, Mrs. Wingfield," he said during lunch 
time. "You see, our armies are facing those of the Federals oppo- 
site Washington, and can offer a firm front to any foe marching 
down from the North; but, unfortunately, they have the command 
of the sea, and there is nothing to prevent their embarking an 
army on board ship and landing it in either the James or the 
York Eivers, and in that case they might make a rush upon 
Eichmond before there would be time to bring down troops to 
our aid. I am therefore proposing to erect a chain of works 
between the two rivers, so as to be able to keep even a large 
army at bay until reinforcements arrive; but to do this a large 
number of hands will be required, and we are going to ask the 
proprietors of plantations to place as many negroes as they can 
spare at our disposal." 

"There can be no doubt as to the response your question 
will meet with, general. At present we have scarce enough 
work for our slaves to do. I intend to grow no tobacco next 
year, for it will only rot in the warehouse, and a comparatively 
small number of hands are required to raise corn crops. I have 
about a hundred and seventy working hands on the Orangery, 
and shall be happy to place a hundred at your disposal for as 
long a time as you may require them. If you want fifty more 
you can of course have them. Everything else must at present 
give way to the good of the cause." 


'* I thank you much, Mrs. Wingfield, for your offers, and will 
put your name down the first on the list of contributors." 

" You seem quite to have recovered now," he said to Vincent 
a few minutes afterwards. 

"Yes; I am quite ashamed of staying here so long, general. 
But I feel some pain at times; and as there is nothing doing at 
the front, and my doctor says that it is of importance I should 
have rest as long as possible, I have stayed on. Major Ash- 
ley has promised to recall me as soon as there is a prospect of 
active work." 

" I think it is quite likely that there will be active work 
here as soon as anywhere else," the general said. "We know 
pretty well what is doing at Washington, and though nothing 
has been decided upon, there is a party in favour of a landing 
in force here; and if so, we shall have hot work. What do you 
say 1 If you like I will get you a commission and appoint you 
one of my aides-de-camp. Your knowledge of the country will 
make you useful, and as Ashley has vspecially mentioned your 
name in one of his despatches, you can have your commission 
by asking for it. 

" If there is to be fighting round here, it will be of more 
interest to you defending your own home than in taking part 
in general engagements for the safety of the State. It will, too, 
enable you to be a good deal at home; and although so far the 
slaves have behaved extremely well, there is no saying exactly 
what may happen if the Northerners come among us. You can 
rejoin your own corps afterwards, you know, if nothing comes 
of this." 

Vincent was at first inclined to decline the offer, but his 
mother and sisters were so pleased at having him near them 
that he finally accepted with thanks, being principally influenced 
by the general's last argument, that possibly there might be 
trouble with the slaves in the event of a landing in the James 


Peninsula by the Northerners. A few days later there came an 
official intimation that he had received a commission in the 
cavalry, and had at General Magruder's request been appointed 
to his staff, and he at once entered upon his new duties. 

The fortress of Monroe, at the entrance of Hampton Eoads, 
was still in the hands of the Federals, and a large Federal fleet 
was assembled here, and was only prevented from sailing up 
the James Eiver by the Merrimac, a steamer which the Con- 
federates had plated with railway iron. They had also con- 
structed batteries upon some high bluffs on each side of the 
river. In a short time 5000 negroes were set to work erecting 
batteries upon the York River at Yorktown and Gloucester 
Point, and upon a line of works extending from Warwick upon 
the James River to Ship Point on the York, through a line of 
wooded and swampy country intersected by streams emptying 
themselves into one or other of the rivers. 

This line was some thirty miles in length, and would require 
25,000 men to guard it; but Magruder hoped that there would 
be sufficient warning of an attack to enable reinforcements to 
arrive in time to raise his own command of about 10,000 men to 
that strength. The negroes worked cheerfully, for they received 
a certain amount of pay from the State; but the work was heavy 
and difficult, and different altogether to that which they were 
accustomed to perform. The batteries by the sides of the rivers 
made fair progress, but the advance of the long line of works 
across the peninsula was but slow. Vincent had, upon receiv- 
ing his appointment, written at once to Major Ashley, sending 
his letter by Dan, who was ordered to bring back Wildfire. 
Vincent stated that had he consulted his personal feeling he 
should have j)ref erred remaining in the ranks of his old corps; 
but that as the fighting might be close to his home, and there 
was no saying what might be the behaviour of the slave popu- 
lation in the event of a Northern invasion, he had, for the sake 


of his mother and sisters, accepted the appointment, but as 
soon as the danger was over he hoped to rejoin the corps and 
serve under his former commander. 

Dan, on his return with "Wildfire, brought a letter from the 
major saying that although he should have been glad to have 
had him with him, he quite agreed with the decision at which 
he had, under the circumstances, arrived. Vincent now took 
up his quarters at the camp formed a short distance from the 
city, and much of his time was spent in riding to and from the 
peninsula, seeing that the works were being carried out accord- 
ing to the plan of the general, and reporting upon the manner 
in which the contractors for the supply of food to the negroes 
at work there performed their duties. Sometimes he was away 
for two or three days upon this work; but he generally managed 
once or twice a week to get home for a few hours. 

The inhabitants of Eichmond and its neighbourhood were 
naturally greatly interested in the progress of the works for 
their defence, and parties were often organized to ride or drive 
to Yorktown, or to the batteries on the James Eiver, to watch 
the progress made. Upon one occasion Vincent accompanied 
his mother and sisters, and a party of ladies and gentlemen from 
the neighbouring plantations, to Drury's Bluff, where an en- 
trenched position named Fort Darling had been erected, and 
preparations made to sink vessels across the river, and close 
it against the advance of the enemy's fleet should any 
misfortune happen to the Merrimac. 

Several other parties had been made up, and each brought 
provisions with them. General Magruder and some of his 
officers received them upon their arrival, and conducted them 
over the works. After this the whole party sat down to a pic- 
nic meal on the ground, and no stranger could have guessed 
that the merry party formed part of a population threatened 
with invasion by a powerful foe. There were speeches and 

( 538 ) I 


toasts, all of a patriotic character, and General Magruder raised 
the enthusiasm to the highest point by informing them that in 
a few days — the exact day was a secret, but it would be very 
shortly — the Merrimac, or, as she had been re-christened, the 
Virginia, would put out from Norfolk Harbour, and see what 
she could do to clear Hampton Koads of the fleet that now 
threatened them. As they were riding back to Kichmond the 
general said to Vincent: 

" I will tell you a little more than I told the others, Wing- 
field. I believe the Merrimac will go out the day after to- 
morrow. I wish I could get away myself to see the affair; but, 
unfortunately, I cannot do so. However, if you like to be pre- 
sent, I will give you three days' leave, as you have been work- 
ing very hard lately. You can start early to-morrow, and can 
get down by train to Norfolk in the evening. I should advise 
you to take your horse with you, and then you can ride in the 
morning to some spot from which you will get a fair view of 
the Eoads, and be able to see what is going on." 

" Thank you very much, sir," Vincent said. " I should like 
it immensely." 

The next day Vincent went down to Norfolk. Arriving 
there, he found that although there was a general expectation 
that the Merrimac would shortly go out to try her strength 
with the enemy, nothing was known of the fact that the next 
morning had been fixed for the encounter, the secret being 
kept to the last lest some spy or adherent of the North might 
take the news to the fleet. After putting up his horse Vincent 
went down to the navy yard, off which the Merrimac was lying. 

This ship had been sunk by the Federals when at the com- 
mencement of hostilities they had evacuated Norfolk. Having 
been raised by the Confederates, the ship was cut down, and a 
sort of roof covered with iron was built over it, so that the 
vessel presented the appearance of a huge sunken house. A 


ram was fixed to her bow, and she was armed with ten guns. 
Her steam-power was very insufficient for her size, and she 
could only move through the water at the rate of five knots an 

" She is an ugly-looking thing," a man observed to Vincent 
as he gazed at the ship. 

" Frightfully ugly," Vincent agreed. " She may be a formid- 
able machine in the way of fighting, but one can scarcely call 
her a ship." 

" She is a floating-battery, and if they tried their best to turn 
out the ugliest thing that ever floated they could not have suc- 
ceeded better. She is just like a Noah's ark sunk down to the 
eaves of her roof." 

" Yes, she is a good deal like that," Vincent agreed. " The 
very look of her ought to be enough to frighten the Federals, 
even if she did nothing else." 

" I expect it will not be long before she gives them a taste of 
her quality," the man said. " She has got her coal and ammuni- 
tion on board, and there's nothing to prevent her going out this 
evening if she wants to." 

" It will be worth seeing when she does go out to fight the 
Northerners," Vincent said. " It will be a new experiment in 
warfare, and, if she turns out a success, I suppose all the navies 
in the world will be taking to cover themselves up with iron." 

The next morning, which was the 8th of March — a date for 
ever memorable in naval annals, — smoke was seen pouring out 
from the funnels of the Merrimac, and there were signs of 
activity on board the Patrick Henry, of six guns, and the James- 
town, Raleigh, Beaufort, and Teazer, little craft carrying one gun 
each, and at eleven o'clock they all moved down the inlet on 
which Norfolk is situated. The news that the Merrimac was 
going out to attack the enemy had now spread, and the whole 
population of Norfolk turned out and hastened down towards the 


moutli of the inlet on horseback, in vehicles, or on foot, while 
Vincent rode to the batteries on Sewell's Point, nearly facing 
Fort Monroe. 

He left his horse at a farmhouse a quarter of a mile from 
the battery; for Wildfire was always restless under fire, and it 
was probable that the batteries would take a share in the affair. 
At one o'clock some of the small Federal look-out launches 
were seen to be at work signalling, a bustle could be observed 
prevailing among the large ships over by the fortress, and it was 
evident that the Merrimac was visible to them as she came 
down the inlet. The Cumberland and Congress men-of-war moved 
out in that direction, and the Minnesota and the St. Lawence, 
which were at anchor, got under weigh, assisted by steam- 

The Merrimac and the fleet of little gunboats were now visible 
from the battery, advancing against the Cumherland and Congress. 
The former opened fire upon her at a distance of a mile with 
her heavy pivot guns, but the Merrimac, without replying, con- 
tinued her slow and steady course towards them. She first 
approached the Congress, and as she did so a puff" of smoke 
burst from the forward end of her pent-house, and the water 
round the Congress was churned up by a hail of grape-shot. 
As they passed each other both vessels fired a broadside. The 
officers in the fort, provided with glasses, could see the effect of 
the Merrimac' s fire in the light patches that showed on the side 
of the Congress, but the Merrimac appeared entirely uninjured. 
She now approached the Cumberland, which poured several broad- 
sides into her, but altogether without effect. The Merrimac, 
without replying, steamed straight on and struck the Cumberland 
with great force, knocking a large hole in her side, near the 
water-line. Then backing off she opened fire upon her. 

For half an hour the crew of the Cumberland fought with 
great bravery. The ships lay about three hundred yards apart. 


and every shot from the Merrimac told on the wooden vessel. 
The water was pouring in through the breach. The shells of 
the Merrimac crushed through her side, and at one time set 
her on fire; but the crew worked their guns until the vessel sank 
beneath their feet. Some men succeeded in swimming to land, 
which was not far distant, others were saved by small boats 
from the shore, but nearly half of the crew of 400 men were 
either killed in action or drowned. 

The Merrimac now turned her attention to the Congress, 
which was left to fight the battle alone, as the Minnesota had 
got aground, and the Roanoake and St. Lawrence could not ap- 
proach near enough to render them assistance from their draught 
of water. The Merrimac poured broadside after broadside into 
her, until the officer in command and many of the crew were 
killed. The lieutenant who succeeded to the command, seeing 
there was no prospect of help, and that resistance was hopeless, 
hauled down the flag. A gun-boat w^as sent alongside, with 
orders that the crew should leave the Congress and come on 
board, as the ship was to be burnt. But the troops and artillery 
lining the shore now opened fire on the little gunboat, which 
consequently hauled off. The Merrimac, after firing several 
more shells into the Congress, moved away to attack the Min- 
nesota, and the survivors of the 200 men who composed the 
crew of the Cong^^ess were conveyed to shore in small boats. 
The vessel was set on fire either by her own crew or the shells 
of the Merrimac, and by midnight blew up. 

Owing to the shallowness of the water the Merrimac could 
not get near enough to the Minnesota to use her own small 
guns to advantage, and the gun-boat was driven off by the 
heavy ten -inch gun of the Federal frigate, and therefore at 
seven o'clock the Merrimxic and her consorts returned to Norfolk. 
The greatest delight was felt on shore at the success of the 
engagement, and on riding back to Norfolk Vincent learnt 


that the ram would go out again next morning to engage the 
rest of the Federal fleet. 

She herself had suffered somewhat in the fight. Her loss in 
men was only two killed and eight wounded; but two of her 
guns had the muzzles shot off, the armour was damaged in 
some places, and most serious of all she had badly twisted her 
ram in running into the Cumberland. Still it appeared that she 
was more than a match for the rest of the Federal fleet, and 
that these must either fly or be destroyed. 

As the general had given him three days leave, Vincent was 
able to stay to see the close of the afi"air, and early next morn- 
ing again rode down to Sewell's Point, as the Merrimac was 
to start at daybreak. At six o'clock the ironclad came out 
from the river and made for the Minnesota^ which was still 
aground. The latter was seen to run up a signal, and the 
spectators saw an object which they had not before perceived 
coming out as if to meet the ram. The glasses were directed 
towards it, and a general exclamation of surprise was heard. 

"What is the thing? It looks like a raft with two round 
turrets upon it, and a funnel." A moment's consideration, and 
the truth burst upon them. It was the ship they had heard 
of as building at New York, and which had been launched six 
weeks before. It was indeed the Monitor, which had arrived 
during the night, just in time to save the rest of the Federal 
fleet. She was the first regular ironclad ever built. She was a 
turret ship, carrying two very heavy guns, and showing only 
between two and three feet above the water. 

The excitement upon both shores as these adversaries ap- 
proached each other was intense. They moved slowly, and 
not until they were within a hundred yards distance did the 
Monitor open fire, the Merrimac replying at once. The fire for 
a time was heavy and rapid, the distance between the com- 
batants varying from fifty to two hundred yards. The Alonitor 


had by far the greatest speed, and was much more easily turned 
than the Confederate ram, and her guns were very much heavier, 
and the Merrimac while still keeping up the fight made towards 
the mouth of the river. 

Suddenly she turned and steamed directly at the Monitor, 
and before the latter could get out of her way struck her on 
the side ; but the ram was bent and her weak engines were in- 
sufficient to propel her with the necessary force. Consequently 
she inflicted no damage on the Monitor, and the action con- 
tinued, the turret^ship directing her fire at the iron roof of 
the ram, while the latter pointed her guns especially at the 
turret and pilot-house of the Monitor. At length, after a battle 
which had lasted six hours, the Monitor withdrew, one of the 
plates of her pilot-house being seriously damaged and her com- 
mander injured in the eyes. 

When her foe drew off" the Merrimac steamed back to Nor- 
folk. There were no men killed in either battle, and each 
side claimed a victory; the Federals upon the ground that they 
had driven off the Merrimac, the Confederates because the 
Monitor had retreated from the fight. Each vessel however 
held the strength of the other in respect, the Monitor remain- 
ing as sentinel over the ships and transports at Fortress Monroe, 
while the Merrimac at Norfolk continued to guard the entrance 
into the James River. 

As soon as the fight v/as over Vincent Wingfield, greatly 
pleased that he had witnessed so strange and interesting a 
combat, rode back to Norfolk, and the same evening reached 
Richmond, where his description of the fight was received with 
the greatest interest and excitement. 


mcclellan's advance. 

I^^^MT was not until three weeks after the fight between 
IjBj E;| the ironclads that the great army under General 
||S) H| M'^CIellan arrived off Fortress Monroe, the greater 

' ' -^ portion of the troops coming down the Potomac in 

steam transports. Vast quantities of stores had been accumu- 
lated in and around the fortress. Guns of a size never before 
used in war were lying on the wharfs in readiness to be placed 
in batteries, while Hampton Roads were crowded with tran- 
sports and store vessels watched over by the Monitor and the 
other war ships. M^Clellan's army was a large one, but not 
so strong a force as he had intended to have taken with him, 
and as soon as he arrived at Fortress Monroe he learned that 
he would not be able to expect much assistance from the fleet. 
The Merrimac completely closed the James River; and were the 
more powerful vessels of the fleet to move up the York River, 
she would be able to sally out and destroy the rest of the fleet 
and the transports. 

As it was most important to clear the peninsula between 
the two rivers before Magruder should receive strong rein- 
forcements, a portion of the troops were at once landed, and 
on the 4th of April 56,000 men and 100 guns disembarked and 
started on their march against Yorktown. As soon as the news 
of the arrival of the Northern army at Fortress Monroe reached 


Eichmoncl fresh steps were taken for the defence of the city. 
Magruder soon found that it would be impossible with the 
force at his command to hold the line he had proposed, and 
a large body of negroes and troops were set to work to throw 
up defences between Yorktown and a point on the Warwick 
River thirteen and a half miles away. 

Al portion of this line was covered by the Warwick Creek, 
which he dammed up to make it unfordable, and erected bat- 
teries to guard the dams. Across the intervening ground a 
weak earthwork with trenches was constructed, there being 
no time to raise stronger works; but Magruder relied chiefly 
upon the swampy and difficult nature of the country, and the 
concealment afforded by the forest, which rendered it difficult 
for the enemy to discover the weakness of the defenders. 

He posted 6000 men at Yorktown and Gloucester Point, 
and the remaining 5000 troops under his command were scat- 
tered along the line of works to the Warwick River. He 
knew that if M'^Clellan pushed forward with all his force he 
must be successful; but he knew also that if the enemy could 
but be held in check for a few days assistance would reach 
him from General Johnston's army. 

Fortunately for the Confederates the weather, which had 
been fine and clear during the previous week, changed on the 
very day that M'^Clellan started. The rain came down in 
torrents, and the roads became almost impassable. The columns 
struggled on along the deep and muddy tracks all day, and 
bivouacked for the night in the forests. The next morning 
they resumed their march, and on reaching the first line of in- 
trenchments formed by the Confederates found them deserted, 
and it was not until they approached the Warwick Creek that 
they encountered serious opposition. Had they pushed for- 
ward at once they would have unquestionably captured Rich- 
mond. But M'^Clellan's fault was over-caution, and he beheved 


himself opposed by a very much larger force than that under 
the command of Magruder; consequently, instead of making 
an attack at once he began regular siege operations against the 
works on Warwick Creek and those at Yorktown. 

The delay saved Eichmond. Every day reinforcements 
arrived, and by the time that M'^Clellan's army, over 100,000 
strong, had erected their batteries and got their heavy guns 
into position, Magruder had been reinforced by some 10,000 
men under General Johnston, who now assumed the command, 
while other divisions were hurrying up from Northern and 
Western Virginia. Upon the very night before the batteries 
were ready to open, the Confederates evacuated their positions 
and fell back, carrying with them all their guns and stores to 
the Chickahominy Eiver, which ran almost across the penin- 
sula at a distance of six miles only from Eichmond. 

The Confederates crossed and broke down the bridges, and 
prepared to make another stand. The disappointment of the 
Federals was great. After ten days of incessant labour and 
hardship they had only gained possession of the village of 
Yorktown and a tract of low swampy country. The divisions 
in front pressed forward rapidly after the Confederates; but 
these had managed their plan so well that all were safely across 
the stream before they were overtaken. 

The dismay in Eichmond had for a few days been great. 
Many people left the town for the interior, taking their valu- 
ables with them, and all was prepared for the removal of the 
state papers and documents. But as the Federals went on 
with their fortifications, and the reinforcements began to arrive, 
confidence was restored, and all went on as before. 

The great Federal army was so scattered through the forests, 
and the discipline of some of the divisions was so lax that it 
was some days before M'^Clellan had them ranged in order on 
the Chickahominy. Another week elapsed before he was in a 


position to undertake fresh operations; but General Johnston 
had now four divisions on the spot, and he was too enterprising 
a general to await the attack. Consequently he crossed the 
Chickahominy, fell upon one of the Federal divisions and almost 
destroyed it, and drove back the whole of their left wing. 
The next morning the battle was renewed, and lasted for five 

It was fortunate indeed for the Confederates that the right 
wing of the Northern army did not, while the action was going 
on, cross the river and march straight upon Eichmond; but com- 
munication was difficult from one part of the array to another, 
owing to the thick forests and the swampy state of the ground, 
and being without orders they remained inactive all day. The 
loss on their side had been 7000 men, while the Confederates 
had lost 4500; and GeneralJohnston being seriously wounded, 
the chief command was given to General Lee, by far the ablest 
soldier the war produced. Satisfied with the success they had 
gained, the Confederates fell back across the river again. 

On the 4th of June, General Stuart — for he had now been 
promoted — started with 1200 cavalry and 2 guns, and in forty - 
eight hours made one of the most adventurous reconnaissances 
ever undertaken. First the force rode out to Hanover Court- 
house, where they encountered and defeated, first, a small body 
of cavalry, and afterwards a whole regiment. Then, after de- 
stroying the stores there they rode round to the Pamunky, 
burnt two vessels and a large quantity of stores, captured a 
train of forty waggons, and burnt a railway bridge. 

Then they passed right round the Federal rear, crossed the 
river, and re-entered the city with 165 prisoners and 200 
horses, having eff'ected the destruction of vast quantities of 
stores, besides breaking up the railways and burning bridges. 

Towards the end of June M'^Clellan learned that Stonewall 
Jackson, having struck heavy blows at the two greatly superior 


armies which were operating against him in the valley of the 
Shenandoah, had succeeded in evading them, and was marching 
towards Eichmond. 

He had just completed several bridges across the river, and 
was about to move forward to fight a great battle when the 
news reached him. Believing that he should be opposed by an 
army of 200,000 men, although, in fact, the Confederate army, 
after Jackson and all the available reinforcements came up, was 
still somewhat inferior in strength to his own, he determined 
to abandon for the present the attempt upon Eichmond, and to 
fall back upon the James Eiver. 

Here his ships had alreadj^ landed stores for his supply, for 
the river was now open as far as the Confederate defences at 
Fort Darling. Norfolk Navy Yard had been captured by the 
10,000 men who formed the garrison of Fortress Monroe. No 
resistance had been offered, as all the Confederate troops had 
been concentrated for the defence of Eichmond. When Norfolk 
was captured the Merrimac steamed out to make her way out 
of the river; but the water was low, and the pilot declared 
that she could not be taken up. Consequently she was set on 
fire and burnt to the water's edge, and thus the main obstacle 
to the advance of the Federal fleet was removed. 

They had advanced as far as Fort Darling, and the ironclad 
gunboats had engaged the batteries there. Their shot, however, 
did little damage to the defenders upon the lofty bluffs, while 
the shot from the batteries so injured the gunboats that the 
attempt to force the passage was abandoned. While falling 
back to a place called Harrison's Landing on the James Eiver, 
the Federals were attacked by the Confederates, but after 
desperate fighting on both sides, lasting for five days, they 
succeeded in drawing off from the Chickahominy with a loss of 
fifty guns, thousands of small arms, and the loss of the greater 
part of their stores. 


All idea of a further advance against Eichmond was for the 
present abandoned. President Lincoln had always been op- 
posed to the plan, and a considerable portion of the army was 
moved round to join the force under General Pope, which was 
now to march upon Richmond from the north. 

From the commencement of the Federal advance to the time 
when, beaten and dispirited, they regained the James River, 
Vincent Wingfield had seen little of his family. The Federal 
lines had at one time been within a mile of the Orangery. The 
slaves had some days before been all sent into the interior, and 
Mrs. Wingfield and her daughters had moved into Richmond, 
where they joined in the work, to which the whole of the ladies 
of the town and neighbourhood devoted themselves, of attend- 
ing to the wounded, of whom, while the fighting was going on, 
long trains arrived every day at the city. 

Vincent himself had taken no active part in the fighting. 
Magruder's division had not been engaged in the first attack 
upon M'^Clellan's force; and although it had taken a share in 
the subsequent severe fighting, Vincent had been occupied in 
carrying messages from the general to the leaders of the other 
divisions, and had only once or twice come under the storm of 
fire to which the Confederates were exposed as they plunged 
through the morasses to attack the enemy. As soon as it was 
certain that the attack was finally abandoned, and that M'^Clel- 
lan's troops were being withdrawn to strengthen Pope's army, 
Vincent resigned his appointment as aide-de-camp, and was 
appointed to the 7th Virginian Cavalry, stationed at Orange, 
where it was facing the Federal cavalry. Major Ashley had 
fallen while protecting the passage of Jackson's division when 
hard pressed by one of the Federal armies in Western Virginia. 

No action in the war had been more brilliant than the 
manner in which Stonewall Jackson had baffled the two 
'armies — each greatly superior in force to his own — that had 


been specially appointed to destroy him if possible, or at any 
rate to prevent his withdrawing from the Shenandoah Valley 
and marching to aid in the defence of the Confederate capital. 
His troops had marched almost day and night, without food, 
and depending entirely upon such supplies as they could obtain 
from the scattered farmhouses they passed. 

Although Richmond was for the present safe, the prospect 
of the Confederates was by no means bright. New Orleans 
had been captured ; the blockade of the other ports was now so 
strict that it was difficult in the extreme for a vessel to make 
her way in or out; and the Northerners had placed flotillas of 
gunboats on the rivers, and by the aid of these were gradually 
making their way into the heart of several of the States. 

"Are you thinking of going out to the Orangery again soon, 
mother?" Vincent asked on the evening before setting out on 
the march north. 

" I think not, Vincent. There is so much to do in the hos- 
pitals here that I cannot leave. I should be ashamed to be liv- 
ing in luxury at the Orangery with the girls while other women 
are giving up their whole time nursing the wounded. Besides, 
although I do not anticipate that after the way they have been 
hurled back the Northerners will try again for some time, now 
they are in possession of Harrison's Landing they can at any 
moment advance. Besides, it is not pleasant being obliged to 
turn out of one's house and leave everything to their mercy. 
I wrote yesterday to Pearson to bring the slaves back at once 
and take up the work, and I shall go over occasionally to see 
that everything is in order; but at any rate for a time we will 
stop here." 

" I think that is best, mother. Certainly I should feel more 
comfortable knowing that you are all at Richmond than alone 
out there." 

"We should be no worse off than thousands of ladies all 


over the State, Vincent. There are whole districts where every 
white capable of using a gun has gone to the war, leaving 
nothing but women and slaves behind, and we have not heard 
of a single case in which there has been trouble." 

"Certainly there is no chance of trouble with your slaves, 
mother; but in some of the other plantations it may not be so. 
At any rate the quiet conduct of the slaves everywhere is the 
very best answer that could be given to the accusations that 
have been made as to their cruel treatment. At present the 
whole of the property of the slave -owners throughout the 
Southern States is at their mercy, and they might burn, kill, 
and destroy; and yet in no single instance have they risen 
against what are called their oppressors, even when the Federals 
have been close at hand. 

"Please keep your eye on Dinah, mother. I distrust that 
fellow Jackson so thoroughly that I believe him capable of 
having her carried off and smuggled away somewhere down 
south, and sold there if he saw a chance. I wish, instead of 
sending her to the Orangery, you would keep her as one of 
your servants here." 

"I will if you wish it, Vincent; but I cannot believe for a 
moment that this Jackson or anyone else would venture to 
meddle with any of my slaves." 

"Perhaps not, mother; but it is best to be on the safe side. 
Anyhow, I shall be glad to know that she is with you. Young 
Jackson will be away, for I know he is in one of Stuart's 
troops of horse, though I have never happened to run against 
him since the war began." 

The firing had hardly ceased before Harrison's Landing, when 
General Jackson, with a force of about 15,000 men, composed 
of his own division, now commanded by General Winder, 
General Ewell's division, and a portion of that of General Hill, 
started for the Eapidan to check General Pope, who, plunder- 


ing and wasting the country as he advanced, was marching 
south, his object being to reach Gordonsville, where he would 
cut the line of railway connecting Richmond with Western 
Virginia. Vincent was glad that the regiment to which he had 
been appointed would be under Jackson's command, and that 
he would be campaigning again with his old division, which 
consisted largely of Virginian troops and contained so many of 
his old friends. 

With Jackson, too, he was certain to be engaged in stirring 
service, for that general ever kept his troops upon the march, 
striking blows where least expected, and traversing such an 
extent of country by rapid marches that he and his division 
seemed to the enemy to be almost ubiquitous. 

It was but a few hours after he received his appointment that 
Vincent took train from Richmond to Gordonsville, Dan being 
in the horse-box with Wildfire in the rear of the train. His 
regiment was encamped a mile or two away, and he at 
once rode on and reported himself to Colonel Jones, who com- 
manded it. 

"I am glad to have you with me, sir," the colonel said. 
"I had the pleasure of knowing your father, and am an old 
friend of your mother's family. As you were in Ashley's horse 
and have been serving on Magruder's staff, you are well up in 
your duties; and it is a comfort to me that the vacancy has 
been filled up by one who knows his work instead of a raw 
hand. We have had a brush or two already with the enemy; 
but at present we are watching each other, waiting on both 
sides till the generals have got their infantry to the front in 
readiness for an advance. Jackson is waiting for Hill's division 
to come up, and I believe Pope is expecting great reinforce- 
ments from M^Clellan." 

A few days later Colonel Jones was ordered to take charge of 
the pickets posted on the Rapidan, but before reaching Orange 


a gentleman rode up at full speed and informed them that the 
enemy were in possession of that town. Colonel Jones divided 
his regiment into two parts, and with one charged the Federal 
cavalry in the main street of Orange, while the other portion 
of the regiment, under Major Marshall, attacked them on the 
flank. After a sharp fight the enemy were driven from the 
place; but they brought up large reinforcements, and, pouring 
in a heavy fire, attacked the town on both sides, and the Con- 
federates had to fall back. But they made another stand a 
little way out of the town, and drove back the Federal cavalry 
who were pressing them. 

Although the fight had been but a short one the losses in 
the cavalry ranks had been serious. Colonel Jones, while 
charging at the head of his men, had received a sabre-wound, 
and Major Marshall was taken prisoner. 

Five days later, on the 7th of August, Jackson received cer- 
tain intelligence that General Burnside, with a considerable 
portion of M'^Clellan's force, had embarked, and was on the 
way to join Pope. He determined to strike a blow at once, 
and marched with his entire force from Gordonsville for Barnett 
Ford on the Eapidan. 

At daybreak next morning the cavalry crossed the river and 
attacked and routed a body of Federal cavalry on the road to 
Culpepper Court-house. On the following day Jackson came 
up with his infantry to a point about 8 miles from Culpepper, 
where Pope's army, 32,000 strong, were stationed upon the 
crest of a hill. General Ewell's division, which was the only 
one then up, at once advanced, and, after a severe artillery 
fight, gained a point on a hill where his guns could command 
the enemy's position. 

Jackson's division now came up, and as it was moving into 
position General Winder was killed by a shell. For some hours 
Jackson did not attempt to advance, as Hill's division had not 

(538) K 


come up. Encouraged by this delay, the enemy at five o'clock 
in the afternoon took the offensive and advanced through some 
corn-fields lying between the two armies and attacked Swell's 
division on the Confederate right; while shortly afterwards 
they fell with overwhelming strength on Jackson's left, and, 
attacking it in front, flank, and rear, drove it back, and pressed 
upon it with such force that the day appeared lost. 

At this moment Jackson himself rode down among the 
confused and wavering troops, and by his voice and example 
rallied them. At the same moment the old Stonewall Brigade 
came up at a run and poured their fire into the advancing 
enemy. Jackson led the troops he had rallied forward. The 
Stonewall Brigade fell upon the enemy's flank and drove them 
back with terrible slaughter. Other brigades came up, and 
there was a general charge along the whole Confederate line, 
and the Federals were driven back a mile beyond the position 
they had occupied at the commencement of the fight to the 
shelter of some thick woods. 400 prisoners were taken and 
over 5000 small-arms. 

The battle was known as Cedar Run, and it completely 
checked Pope's advance upon Richmond. The troops were too 
much exhausted to follow up their victory, but Jackson urged 
them to press forward. They moved a mile and a half in 
advance, and then found themselves so strongly opposed that 
Jackson, believing that the enemy must have received rein- 
forcements, halted his men. Colonel Jones was sent forward 
to reconnoitre, and discovered that a large force had joined the 

For two days Jackson remained on the field he had won; 
his troops had been busy in burying the dead, in collecting 
the wounded and sending them to the rear, and in gathering 
the arms thrown away by the enemy in their flight. Being 
assured that the enemy were now too strong to be attacked by 


the force under his command, Jackson fell back to Orange 
Court-house. There was now a few days' delay, while masses 
of troops were on both sides moving towards the new field of 
action. M^Clellan marched his troops across the James Penin- 
sula from Harrison's Landing to Yorktown, and there the 
greater portion were embarked in transports and taken up the 
Eappahannock to Aquia Creek, landed there, and marched to 

Lee, instead of attacking M^'Clellan on his march across the 
peninsula, determined to take his army north at once to join 
Jackson and attack Pope before he was joined by M^'Clellan's 
army. But Pope, although already largely reinforced, retired 
hastily and took up a new position so strongly fortified that he 
could not be attacked. General Stuart had come up with Lee, 
and was in command of all the cavalry. 

*'We shall see some work now," was the remark round the 
fires of the 7th Virginian Cavalry. Hitherto, although they 
had been several times engaged with the Federals, they had 
been forced to remain for the most part inactive owing to the 
vast superiority in force of the enemy's cavalry; but now that 
Stuart had come up they felt certain that, whatever the dis- 
parity of numbers, there would soon be some dashing work to 
be done. 

Except when upon actual duty the strict lines of military 
discipline were much relaxed among the cavalry, the troopers 
being almost all the sons of farmers and planters and of equal 
social rank with their officers, many of whom were their per- 
sonal friends or relatives. Several of Vincent's schoolfellows 
were in the ranks, two or three of them were fellow officers, 
and these often gathered together round a camp fire and chatted 
over old school-days and mutual friends. 

Many of these had already fallen, for the Virginian regiments 
of Stonewall Jackson's brigade had been terribly thinned; but 


the loss of so many friends and the knowledge that their own 
turn might come next did not suffice to lessen the high spirits 
of the young fellows. The hard work, the rough life, the 
exposure and hardship, had braced and invigorated them all, 
and they were attaining a far more vigorous manhood than 
they would ever have possessed had they grown up in the 
somewhat sluggish and enervating life led by young planters. 

Many of these young men had, until the campaign began, 
never done half an hour's hard work in their lives. They had 
been waited upon by slaves, and their only exercise had been 
riding. For months now they had almost lived in the saddle, 
had slept in the open air, and had thought themselves lucky 
if they could obtain a sufficient meal of the roughest food to 
satisfy their hunger once a day. In this respect, however, the 
cavalry were better off than their comrades of the infantry, 
for, scouting as they did in small parties over a wide extent 
of country, they were sure of a meal and a hearty welcome 
whenever they could spare time to stop for half an hour at 
the house of a farmer. 

" It's a glorious life, Wingfield ! When we chatted over the 
future at school we never dreamt of such a life as this, though 
some of us did talk of entering the army; but even then an 
occasional skirmish with Indians was the limit of our ideas." 

"Yes, it is a glorious life!" Vincent agreed. "I cannot 
imagine anything more exciting. Of course, there is the risk 
of being shot, but somehow one never seems to think of that. 
There is always something to do and to think about, from the 
time one starts on a scout at daybreak to that when one lies 
down at night one's senses are on the stretch. Besides, we 
are fighting in defence of our country and not merely as a 
profession, though I don't suppose, after all, that makes much 
difference when one is once in for it. As far as I have read 
all soldiers enjoy campaigning, and it does not seem to make 


any difference to them who are the foe or what they are fight- 
ing about. But I should like to feel a little more sure that we 
shall win in the long run." 

There was a chorus of indignant protests against there being 
any possible doubts as to the issue. 

"Why, we have thrashed them every time we have met 
them, Wingfield." 

" That is all very well," Vincent said. " Here in Virginia 
we have held our own, and more than held it. We have beat 
back Scott and M^Clellan, and now we have thrashed Pope ; and 
Stonewall Jackson has won a dozen battles in Western Vir- 
ginia. But you must remember that in other parts they are 
gradually closing in; all the ports not already taken are closely 
blockaded. They are pushing all along the lines of the great 
rivers; and worst of all, they can fill up their vacancies with 
Irishmen and Germans, and as fast as one army disappears 
another takes its place. I believe we shall beat them again 
and again, and shall prove, as we have proved before, that one 
Southerner fighting for home and liberty is more than a match 
for two hired Germans or Irishmen, even with a good large 
sprinkling of Yankees among them. But in the long run I 
am not sure that we shall win, for they can go on putting big 
armies into the field, while some day we must get used up. 

"Of course it is possible that we may some day capture Wash- 
ington, and that the North may get weary of the tremendous 
drain of money and men caused by their attempt to conquer 
us. I hope it may be so, for I should like to think that 
we should win in the long run. I never feel any doubt about 
our winning a battle when we begin. JMy only fear is that we 
may get used up before the North are tired of it." 

"I did not expect to hear you talk so, Wingfield, for you 
always seem to be in capital spirits." 

"I am in capital spirits," Vincent replied, "and ready to 

150 pope's proclamation. 

fight again and again, and always confident we shall lick the 
Yankees; the fact that I have a doubt whether in the long 
run we shall outlast them does not interfere in the slightest 
degree with my comfort at present. I am very sorry though 
that this fellow Pope is carrying on the war so brutally in- 
stead of in the manner in which General M'^Clellan and the 
other commanders have waged it. His proclamation that the 
army must subsist upon the country it passes through gives a 
direct invitation to the soldiers to pillage, and his order that 
all farmers who refuse to take the oath to the Union are to be 
driven from their homes and sent down south means ruin to 
all the peaceful inhabitants, for there is scarcely a man in this 
part of Virginia who is not heartily with us." 

" I hear," one of the other officers said, " that a prisoner 
who was captured this morning says that Pope already sees 
that he has made a mistake, and that he yesterday issued a 
fresh order saying that the proclamation was not meant to 
authorize pillage. He finds that the inhabitants who before, 
whatever their private sentiments were, maintained a sort of 
neutrality, are now hostile, that they drive off their cattle into 
the woods, and even set fire to their stacks, to prevent any- 
thing from being carried off by the Yanks; and his troops 
find the roads broken up and bridges destroyed and all sorts 
of difficulties thrown in their way." 

" It does not always pay — even in war — to be brutal. I am 
glad to see he has found out his mistake so soon," another 
officer said. "M^Clellan waged war like a gentleman; and if 
blackguards are to be allowed to carry fire and sword through 
the land they will soon find it is a game that two can play at, 
and matters will become horribly embittered." 

"We shall never do that," Vincent said. "Our generals 
are all gentlemen, and Lee and Jackson and many others are 
true Christians as well as true soldiers, and I am sure they 

"BRAVO, wingfield!" 151 

will never countenance that on our side whatever the Nor- 
therners may do. We are ready to fight the hordes of Yankees 
and Germans and Irishmen as often as they advance against 
us, but I am sure that none of us would fire a homestead or 
ill-treat defenceless men and women. It is a scandal that such 
brutalities are committed by the ruffians who call themselves 
Southerners. The guerrillas in Missouri and Tennessee are 
equally bad whether on our side or the other, and if I were 
the president I would send down a couple of regiments, and 
hunt down the fellows who bring dishonour on our cause. If 
the South cannot free herself without the aid of ruffians of this 
kind she had better lay down her arms at once." 

"Bravo, Wingfield! Spoken like a knight of chivalry!" 
one of the others laughed. "But many of these bands have 
done good nevertheless. They have kept the enemy busy there, 
and occupied the attention of a very large force who might 
otherwise have been in the woods yonder with Pope. I agree 
with you, it would be better if the whole thing were fought 
out with large armies, but there is a good deal to be said for 
these bands you are so severe upon. They are composed of 
men who have been made desperate by seeing their farms 
harried and their buildings burnt by the enemy. They have 
been denounced as traitors by their neighbours on the other 
side, and if they retaliate I don't know that they are to be alto- 
gether blamed. I know that if my place at home were burnt 
down and my people insulted and ill-treated I should be in- 
clined to set off to avenge it." 

" So would I," Vincent agreed, " but it should be upon those 
who did the wrong, not upon innocent people." 

"That is all very well, but if the other side destroy your 
people's farms, it is only by showing them that two can play 
at the game that you can make them observe the laws of war. 
I grant it would be very much better that no such thing 


should take place; but if the Northerners begin this sort of 
work they may be sure that there will be retaliation. Anyhow, 
I am glad that I am an officer in the 7th Virginians and not 
a guerrilla leader in Missouri. Well, all this talking is dry 
work. Has no one got a full canteen f 

" I have," Vincent said. " Dan managed to buy a gallon of 
rum at a farmhouse yesterday. I think the farmer was afraid 
that the enemy might be paying him a visit before many days, 
and thought it best to get rid of his spirits. Anyhow, Dan 
got the keg at ordinary city prices, as well as that couple of 
fine turkeys he is just bringing along for our supper. So you 
had better each get your ration bread and fall to." 

There was a cheer as Dan placed the turkeys down in the 
centre of the group, and soon the whole party, using their 
bread as plates, fell to upon them, and afterwards joined in 
many a merry song, while Dan handed round the jar of spirits. 




HE party round the fire were just about to disperse 
when the captain of Vincent's troop approached. 
He took the horn of spirits and water that Vincent 
held up to him and tossed it off. 

*' That is a stirrup-cup, Wingfield." 

"What! are we for duty, Captain?" Vincent asked as he rose 
to his feet. 

"Yes; our troop and Harper's are to muster. Get the men 
together quietly. I think it is a serious business; each of the 
regiments furnish other troops, and I believe Stuart himself 
takes the command." 

" That sounds like work, indeed," Vincent said. " I will get 
the troop together, sir." 

" There are to be no trumpet calls, Wingfield ; we are to get 
ofi" as quietly as possible." 

Most of the men were already fast asleep, but as soon as 
they learnt that there was a prospect of active work all were 
full of life and animation. The girths of the saddles were 
tightened, swords buckled on, and revolvers carefully examined 
before being placed in the holsters. Many of the men carried 
repeating rifles, and the magazines were filled before these were 
slung across the riders' shoulders. 

In a few minutes the three troops were mounted and in 


readiness for a start, and almost directly afterwards Colonel 
Jones himself rode up and took the command. A thrill of 
satisfaction ran through the men as he did so, for it was cer- 
tain that he would not himself be going in command of the 
detachment unless the occasion was an important one. For a 
few minutes no move was made. 

" I suppose the others are going to join us here," Vincent 
said to the officer next him. 

"I suppose so," he replied. "We lie in the middle of the 
cavalry brigade with two regiments each side of us, so it is 
likely enough this is the gathering place. Yes, I can hear the 
tramping of horses." 

"And I felt a spot of rain," Vincent said. "It has been 
lightening for some time. I fear we are in for a wet ride." 

The contingent from the other regiments soon arrived, and 
just as the last came up General Stuart himself appeared and 
took his place at the head of the party, now some 500 strong. 
Short as the time had been since Vincent felt the first drop, 
the rain was now coming down in torrents. One by one the 
bright flames of the fires died down, and the darkness became 
so intense that Vincent could scarcely see the officer on his 
right hand. 

"I hope the man who rode up with the general, and is no 
doubt to be our guide, knows the country well. It is no joke 
finding our way through a forest on such a night as this." 

"I believe Stuart's got eyes like a cat," the officer said. 
" Sometimes on a dark night he has come galloping up to a 
post where I was in command, when one could scarcely see 
one's hand before one. It never seems to make any difference 
to him, day or night he rides about at a gallop." 

"He trusts his horse," Vincent said. "That's the only way 
in the dark. They can see a lot better than we can, and if 
men would but let them go their own way instead of trying to 


guide them they would seldom run against anything. The 
only thing is to lie well down on the horse's neck, otherwise 
one might get swept out of the saddle by a bough. It's a 
question of nerve. I think not many of us would do as Stuart 
does, and trust himself entirely to his horse's instinct." 

The word was now passed down the line that perfect silence 
was to be observed, and that they were to move forward in 
column, the ranks closing up as much as possible so as not to 
lose touch of each other. With heads bent down, and 
blankets wrapped round them as cloaks, the cavalry rode off 
through the pouring rain. The thunder was crashing overhead, 
and the flashes of the lightning enabled them to keep their 
places in close column. They went at a rapid trot, and even 
those who were ready to charge a body of the enemy, however 
numerous, without a moment's hesitation, experienced a feel- 
ing of nervousness as they rode on in the darkness through 
the thick forest on their unknown errand. That they were 
going northward they knew, and knew also, after a short time, 
that they must be entering the lines of the enemy. They saw 
no signs of watch-fires, for these would long since have been 
quenched by the downpour. After half an hour's brisk riding 
all knew by the sharp sound of the beat of the horses' hoofs 
that they had left the soft track through the forest and were 
now upon a regular road. 

"Thank goodness for that!" Vincent said in a low tone to 
his next neighbour. " I don't mind a brush with the enemy, 
but I own I don't like the idea that at any moment my brains 
may be knocked out by the branch of a tree." 

" I quite agree with you," the other replied; " and I fancy 
every man felt the same." 

There was no doubt as to this. Hitherto no sound had been 
heard save the jingling of accoutrements and the dull heavy 
sound of the horses' tread; but now there could be heard 


mingled with these the buzz of voices, and occasionally a low 
laugh. They were so accustomed to wet that the soaking 
scarce inconvenienced them. They were out of the forest now, 
and felt sure of their guide; and as to the enemy, they only 
longed to discover them. 

For another hour the rapid advance continued, and all felt 
sure that they must now have penetrated through the enemy's 
lines and be well in his rear. At last they heard a challenge 
of sentry. Then Stuart's voice shouted, " Charge!" and at full 
gallop they rode into the village at Catlet's Station on the 
Orange and Alexandria Railroad, where General Pope had his 
head-quarters. Another minute and they were in the midst of 
the enemy's camp, where the wildest confusion reigned. The 
Federal officers rushed from their tents and made off in the 
darkness; but the soldiers, who were lying on the line of rail- 
road, leapt to their feet and opened a heavy fire upon their 
invisible foes. Against this the cavalry, broken up in the 
camp, with its tents, its animals, and its piles of baggage, could 
do little, for it was impossible to form them up in the broken 
and unknown ground. 

The quarters of Pope were soon discovered; he himself had 
escaped, leaving his coat and hat behind. Many of his officers 
were captured, and in his quarters were found a box of official 
papers which were invaluable, as among them were copies of 
his letters asking for reinforcements, lists giving the strength 
and position of his troops, and other particulars of the greatest 
value to the Confederates, No time was lost, as the firing 
would set the whole Federal army on the alert, and they might 
find their retreat cut off. Therefore placing their prisoners in 
the centre, and taking the box of papers with them, the cavalry 
were called off from the camp, and without delay started on 
their return ride. 

They did not take the road by which they had come, but 

lee's plans. 157 

made a long detour, and just as daylight was breaking re-entered 
the Confederate lines without having encountered a foe from 
the time of their leaving Catlet's Station. Short as their stay- 
in the camp had been, few of the men had returned empty- 
handed. The Northern army was supplied with an abundance 
of excellent food of all descriptions, forming the strongest 
possible contrast to the insufficient rations upon which the 
Confederate troops existed, and the troopers had helped them- 
selves to whatever they could lay hands upon in the darkness 
and confusion. 

Some rode in with a ham slung on each side of their saddle, 
others had secured a bottle or two of wine or spirits. Some 
had been fortunate enough to lay hands on some tins of coffee or 
a canister of tea, luxuries which for months had been unknown 
to them save when they were captured from the enemy. The 
only article captured of no possible utility was General Pope's 
coat, which was sent to Richmond, where it was hung up for 
public inspection; a wag sticking up a paper beside it, *'This 
is the coat in which General Pope was going to ride in triumph 
into Richmond. The coat is here, but the general has not yet 

The Confederates had lost but two or three men from the 
fire of the Federal infantry, and they were in high spirits at 
the success of their raid. No sooner had General Lee informed 
himself of the contents of the papers and the position of the 
enemy's forces than he determined to strike a heavy blow at 
him; and General Jackson, who had been sharply engaged 
with the enemy near Warrenton, was ordered to make a long 
detour, to cross the Blue Ridge Mountains through Thorough- 
fare Gap, to fall upon Pope's rear and cut his communications 
with Washington, and if possible to destroy the vast depot of 
stores collected at Manassas. 

The cavalry, under Stuart, were to accompany him. The 


march would be a tremendous one, the danger of thus ven- 
turing mto the heart of the enemy's country immense, but the 
results of such an expedition would, if successful, be great; for 
Lee himself was to advance with his army on Pope's flank, 
and there was therefore a possibility of the utter defeat of that 
general before he could be joined by the armj^ marching to 
reinforce him from Fredericksburg. 

It was on Monday the 25th of August that Jackson started 
on his march, ascending the banks of the Rappahannock, and 
crossed the river at a ford, dragging his artillery with difficulty 
up the narrow and rocky road beyond. There was not a 
moment to be lost, for if the news reached the enemy the 
gorge known as Thoroughfare Gap would be occupied, and the 
whole object of the movement be defeated. Onward the force 
pushed, pressing on through fields and lanes without a single 
halt, until at night, hungry and weary but full of spirit, they 
marched into the little town of Salem, twenty miles from their 
starting-place. They had neither waggons nor provisions with 
them, and had nothing to eat but some ears of corn and green 
apples plucked on the road. 

It was midnight when they reached Salem, and the inhabi- 
tants turned out in blank amazement at the sight of Confe- 
derate troops in that region, and welcomed the weary soldiers 
with the warmest manifestations. At daylight they were again 
upon the march, with Stuart's cavalry, as before, out upon each 
flank. Thoroughfare Gap was reached, and found undefended, 
and after thirty miles' marching the exhausted troops reached 
the neighbourhood of Manassas. The men were faint from 
want of food, and many of them limped along barefooted; but 
they were full of enthusiasm. 

Just at sunset, Stuart, riding on ahead, captured Bristoe, a 
station on the Orange and Alexandria Eailroad four miles from 
Manassas. As they reached it a train came along at full speed. 


It was fired at, but did not stop, and got safely through to 
Manassas. Two trains that followed were captured; but by 
this time the alarm had spread, and no more trains arrived. 
Jackson had gained his point. He had placed himself on the 
line of communication of the enemy, but his position was a 
dangerous one indeed. Lee, who was following him, was still 
far away. An army was marching from Fredericksburg against 
him, another would be despatched from Washington as soon as 
the news of his presence was known, and Pope might turn and 
crush him before Lee could arrive to his assistance. 

Worn out as the troops were, it was necessary at once to 
gain possession of Manassas, and the 21st North Carolina and 
21st Georgia volunteered for the service, and, joined by Stuart 
with a portion of his cavalry, marched against it. After a brief 
contest the place was taken, the enemy stationed there being 
all taken prisoners. The amount of arms and stores captured 
was prodigious. Eight pieces of artillery, 250 horses, 3 loco- 
motives, and tens of thousands of barrels of beef, pork, and 
flour, with an enormous quantity of public stores and the con- 
tents of innumerable sutlers' shops. 

The sight of this vast abundance to starving men was tan- 
talizing in the extreme. It was impossible to carry any of it 
away, and all that could be done was to have at least one good 
meal. The troops therefore were marched in, and each helped 
himself to as much as he could consume, and the ragged and 
barefooted men feasted upon tinned salmon and lobsters, cham- 
pagne and dainties of every description forwarded for the use 
of officers. Then they set to work to pile the enormous mass 
of stores together and to set it on fire. WTiile they were 
engaged at this a brigade of New Jersey troops which had 
come out from Washington to save Manassas was attacked 
and utterly routed. Ewell's division had remained at Bristoe, 
while those of Hill and Jackson moved to Manassas, and in the 


course of the afternoon Ewell saw the whole of Pope's army 
marching against him. 

He held them in check for some hours, and thus gave the 
troops at Manassas time to destroy completely the vast accu- 
mulation of stores, and when Stuart's cavalry, covering the 
retreat, fell back at nightfall through Manassas, nothing but 
blackened cinders remained where the Federal depots had been 
situated. The blow to the Northerners was as heavy as it was 
unexpected. Pope had no longer either provisions for his men 
or forage for his cattle, and there was nothing left for him but 
to force his way past Jackson and retire upon Washington. 

Jackson had now the option of falling back and allowing the 
enemy to pass, or of withstanding the whole Federal army with 
his own little force until Lee came up to the rescue. He chose 
the latter course, and took up a strong position. The sound of 
firing at Thoroughfare Gap was audible, and he knew that Long- 
street's division of Lee's army was hotly engaged with a force 
which, now that it was too late, had been sent to hold the 
gorge. It was nearly sunset before Pope brought up his men 
to the attack. Jackson did not stand on the defensive, but 
rushed down and attacked the enemy — whose object had been 
to pass the position and press on — with such vigour that at nine 
o'clock they fell back. 

An hour later a horseman rode up with the news that Long- 
street had passed the Gap and was pressing on at full speed, 
and in the morning his forces were seen approaching, the 
line they were taking bringing them up at an angle to Jackson's 
position. Thus their formation as they arrived was that of an 
open V, and it was through the angle of this V that Pope had 
to force his way. Before Longstreet could arrive, however, the 
enemy hurled themselves upon Jackson, and for hours the Con- 
federates held their own against the vast Federal army, Long- 
street's force being too far away to lend them a hand. Ammu- 




Position of the Forces at Sunset 




? ■ ?^ 

I It ft ^ 

To face p. 160. 


nition failed, and the soldiers fought with piles of stones, but 
night fell without any impression being made upon these 
veterans. General Lee now came up with General Hood's 
division, and hurled this against the Federals and drove them 
back. In the evening Longstreet's force took up the position 
General Lee had assigned to it, and in the morning all the 
Confederate army had arrived, and the battle recommenced. 

The struggle was long and terrible; but by nightfall every 
attack had been repulsed, and the Confederates, advancing on 
all sides, drove the Northerners, a broken and confused crowd, 
before them, the darkness alone saving them from utter 
destruction. Had there been but one hour more of dayhght 
the defeat would have been as complete as was that in the 
battle of Bull Eun, which had been fought on precisely the 
same ground. However, under cover of the darkness the 
Federals retreated to Centreville, whence they were driven 
on the following day. 

In the tremendous fighting in which Jackson's command 
had for three long days been engaged, the cavalry bore a com- 
paratively small part. The Federal artillery was too powerful 
to permit the employment of large bodies of cavalry, and 
although from time to time charges were made when an oppor- 
tunity seemed to offer itself, the battle was fought out by the 
infantry and artillery. When the end came Jackson's command 
was for a time hors de combat. During the long two days' 
march they had at least gathered corn and apples to sustain 
life; but during these three days' fighting they had had no 
food whatever, and many were so weak that they could no 
longer march. 

They had done all that was possible for men to do; had for 
two days withstood the attack of an enemy of five times their 
numbers, and had on the final day borne their full share in the 
great struggle, but now the greater part could do no more, 

(538) L 


thousands of men were unable to drag themselves a step further, 
and Lee's army was reduced in strength for the time by nearly 
20,000 men. All these afterwards rejoined it; some as soon as 
they recovered limped away to take their places in the ranks 
again, others made their way to the depot at Warrenton, where 
Lee had ordered that all unable to accompany his force should 
rendezvous until he returned and they were able to rejoin their 

Jackson marched away and laid siege to Harper's Ferry, an 
important depot garrisoned by 11,000 men, who were forced 
to surrender just as M*'Clellan with a fresh army, 100,000 strong, 
which was pressing forward to its succour, arrived within a 
day's march. As soon as Jackson had taken the place he hur- 
ried away with his troops to join Lee, who was facing the enemy 
at the Antietam river. Here upon the following day another 
terrible battle was fought; the Confederates, though but 
39,000 strong, rej^ulsing every attack by the Federals, and 
driving them with terrible slaughter back across the river. 

Their own loss, however, had been very heavy, and Lee, 
knowing that he could expect no assistance, while the enemy 
were constantly receiving reinforcements, waited for a day to 
collect his wounded, bury his dead, and send his stores and 
artillery to the rear, and then retired unpursued across the 
Rappahannock. Thus the hard-fought campaign came to an 

Vincent "VVingfield was not with the army that retired across 
the Rappahannock. A portion of the cavalry had followed the 
broken Federals to the very edge of the stream, and just as 
they reined in their horses a round shot from one of the 
Federal batteries carried away his cap, and he fell as if dead 
from his horse. During the night some of the Northerners 
crossed the stream to collect and bring back their own wounded 
who had fallen near it, and coming across Vincent, and finding 


that he still breathed, and was apparently without a wound, 
they carried him back with them across the river as a prisoner. 

Vincent had indeed escaped without a wound, having been 
only stunned by the passage of the shot that had carried away 
his cap, and missed him but by the fraction of an inch. He 
had begun to recover consciousness just as his captors came up, 
and the action of carrying him completely restored him. That 
he had fallen into the hands of the Northerners he was well 
aware; but he was unable to imagine how this had happened 
He remembered that the Confederates had been, up to the 
moment when he fell, completely successful, and he could only 
imagine that in a subsequent attack the Federals had turned 
the tables upon them. 

How he himself had fallen, or what had happened to him, 
he had no idea. Beyond a strange feeling of numbness in the 
head he was conscious of no injury, and he could only imagine 
that his horse had been shot under him, and that he must have 
fallen upon his head. The thought that his favourite horse 
was killed afflicted him almost as much as his own capture. 
As soon as his captors perceived that their prisoner's con- 
sciousness had returned they at once reported that an officer of 
Stuart's cavalry had been taken, and at daybreak next morning 
General M'^Clellan on rising was acquainted with the fact, and 
Vincent was conducted to his tent. 

"You are unwounded, sir?" the general said in some surprise. 

" I am, general," Vincent replied. " I do not know how it 
happened, but I believe that my horse must have been shot 
under me, and that I must have been thrown and stunned; 
however, I remember nothing from the moment when I heard 
the word halt, just as we reached the side of the stream, to 
that when I found myself being carried here." 

" You belong to the cavalry f' 

"Yes, sir." 


"Was Lee's force all engaged yesterday?" 

*' I do not know," Vincent said. " I only came up with Jack- 
son's division from Harper's Ferry the evening before." 

" I need not have questioned you," M'^Clellan said. " I know 
that Lee's whole army, 100,000 strong, opposed me yester- 

Vincent was silent. He was glad to see that the Federal 
general, as usual, enormously overrated the strength of the 
force opposed to him. 

" I hear that the whole of the garrison of Harper's Ferry 
were released on parole not to serve again during the war. If 
you are ready to give me your promise to the same effect I will 
allow you to return to your friends; if not, you must remain a 
prisoner until you are regularly exchanged." 

"I must do so, then, general," Vincent said quietly. "I 
could not return home and remain inactive while every man 
in the South is fighting for the defence of his country, so I will 
take my chance of being exchanged." 

"I am sorry you choose that alternative," M'^Clellan said. 
"I hate to see brave men imprisoned if only for a day; and 
braver men than those across yonder stream are not to be 
found. My officers and men are astonished. They seem so 
thin and worn as to be scarce able to lift a musket, their 
clothes are fit only for a scarecrow, they are indeed pitiful 
objects to look at; but the way in which they fight is wonder- 
ful. I could not have believed had I not seen it, that men 
could have charged as they did again and again across ground 
swept by a tremendous artillery and musketry fire; it was 
wonderful! I can tell you, young sir, that even though you 
beat us we are proud of you as our countrymen; and I believe 
that if your General Jackson were to ride through our camp 
he would be cheered as lustily and heartily by our men as he 
is by his own." 


Some fifty or sixty other prisoners had been taken; they had 
been captured in the hand-to-hand struggle that had taken 
place on some parts of the field, having got separated from 
their corps and mixed up with the enemy, and carried off the 
field with them as they retired. These for the most part 
accepted the offered parole; but some fifteen, like Vincent, pre- 
ferred a Northern prison to promising to abstain from fighting 
in defence of their country, and in the middle of the day they 
were placed together in a tent under a guard at the rear of 
the camp. 

The next morning came the news that Lee had fallen back. 
There was exultation among the Federals, not unmingled 
with a strong sense of relief; for the heavy losses inflicted in 
the previous fighting had taken all the ardour of attack 
out of M'^Clellan's army, and they were glad indeed that they 
were not to be called uj^on to make another attempt to drive 
the Confederates from their position. Vincent was no less 
pleased at the news. He knew how thin were the ranks of the 
Confederate fighting men, and how greatly they were worn 
and exhausted by fatigue and want of food, and that, although 
they had the day before repulsed the attacks of the masses of 
well-fed Northerners, such tremendous exertions could not 
often be repeated, and a defeat, with the river in their rear, 
approachable only by one rough and narrow road, would have 
meant a total destruction of the army. 

The next morning Vincent and his companions were put 
into the train and sent to Alexandria. They had no reason to 
complain of their treatment upon the way. They were w^ell 
fed, and after their starvation diet for the last six weeks their 
rations seemed to them actually luxurious. The Federal troops 
in Alexandria, who were for the most part young recruits who 
had just arrived from the north and west, looked with aston- 
ishment upon these thin and ragged men, several of whom 


were barefooted. Was it possible that such scarecrows as 
these could in every battle have driven back the well-fed and 
cared-for Northern soldiers ! 

"Are they all like this?" one burly young soldier from a 
western state asked their guard. 

"That's them, sir," the sergeant in charge of the party re- 
plied. "Not much to look at, are they? But, by gosh, you 
should see them fight! You wouldn't think of their looks 

" If that's soldiering," the young farmer said solemnly, "the 
sooner I am back home again the better. But it don't seem 
to me altogether strange as they should fight so hard, because 
I should say they must look upon it as a comfort to be killed 
rather than to live like that." 

A shout of laughter from the prisoners showed the young 
rustic that the objects of his pity did not consider life to be 
altogether intolerable even under such circumstances, and he 
moved away meditating on the discomforts of war, and upon 
the remarks that would be made were he to return home in so 
sorrowful a plight as that of these Confederate prisoners. 

"I bargained to fight," he said, "and though I don't ex- 
pect I shall like it, I sha'n't draw back when the time comes; 
but as to being starved till you are nigh a skeleton, and going 
about barefooted and in such rags as a tramp wouldn't look at, 
it an't reasonable." And yet, had he known it, among those 
fifteen prisoners more than half were possessors of wide estates, 
and had been brought up from their childhood in the midst 
of luxuries such as the young farmer never dreamt of. 

Among many of the soldiers sympathy took a more active 
form, and men pressed forward and gave packets of tobacco, 
cigars, and other little presents to them, while two or three 
pressed rolls of dollar notes into their hands, with words of 
rough kindness. 


" There an't no ill feeling in us, Eebs. You have done your 
work like men, and no doubt you thinks your cause is right, 
just as we does; but it's all over now, and maybe our turn 
will come next to see the inside of one of your prisons down 
south. So we are just soldiers together, and can feel for each 

Discipline in small matters was never strictly enforced in 
the American armies, and the sergeant in charge offered no 
opposition to the soldiers mingling with the prisoners as they 
walked along. 

Two days later they were sent by railway to the great prison 
at Elmira, a town in the south-west of the state of New York. 
When they reached the jail the prisoners were separated, 
Vincent, who was the only officer, being assigned quarters with 
some twenty others of the same rank. The prisoners crowded 
round him as he entered, eager to hear the last news from the 
front, for they heard from their guards only news of constant 
victories won by the Northerners; for every defeat was trans- 
formed by the Northern papers into a brilliant victory, and it 
was only when the shattered remains of the various armies 
returned to Alexandria to be re-formed that the truth gradually 
leaked out. Thus Antietam had been claimed as a great 
Northern victory, for although M^'Clellan's troops had in the 
battle been hurled back shattered and broken across the river, 
two days afterwards Lee had retired. 

One of the prisoners, who was also dressed in cavalry uniform, 
hung back from the rest, and going to the window looked out 
while Vincent was chatting with the others. Presently he 
turned round, and Vincent recognized with surprise his old 
opponent Jackson. After a moment's hesitation he walked 
across the room to him. 

"Jackson," he said, "we have not been friends lately, but I 
don't see why we should keep up our quarrel any longer; we 


got on all right at school together; and now we are prisoners 
together here it would be foolish to continue our quarrel. 
Perhajjs we were both somewhat to blame in that affair. I am 
quite willing to allow I was, for one, but 1 think we might well 
put it all aside now." 

Jackson hesitated, and then took the hand Vincent held 
out to him. 

" That's right, young fellows," one of the other officers said. 
"Now that every Southern gentleman is fighting and giving 
his. life, if need be, for his country, no one has a right to have 
private quarrels of his own. Life is short enough as it is, cer- 
tainly too short to indulge in private animosities. A few 
weeks ago we were fighting side by side, and facing death 
together; to-day we are prisoners; a week hence we may be 
exchanged, and soon take our places in the ranks again. It's 
the duty of all Southerners to stand shoulder to shoulder, and 
there ought to be no such thing as ill-feeling among our- 

Vincent was not previously aware that Jackson had obtained 
a commission. He now learned that he had been chosen by his 
comrades to fill a vacancy caused by the death of an officer in 
a skirmish just before Pope fell back from the Eappahannock, 
and that he had been made prisoner a few days afterwards in a 
charge against a greatly superior body of Federal cavalry. 

The great majority of the officers on both sides were at the 
commencement of the war chosen by their comrades, the elec- 
tions at first taking place once a year. This, however, was 
found to act very badly. In some cases the best men in the 
regiment were chosen; but too often men who had the com- 
mand of money, and could afford to stand treat and get in 
supplies of food and spirits, were elected. The evils of the 
system were found so great, indeed, that it was gradually aban- 
doned; but in cases of vacancies occurring in the field, and 


there being a necessity for at once filling them up, the colonels 
of the regiments had power to make appointments, and if the 
choice of the men was considered to be satisfactory their 
nominee would be generally chosen. 

In the case of Jackson, the colonel had hesitated in con- 
firming the choice of the men. He did not for a moment 
suspect him to be wanting in courage; but he regarded him as 
one who shirked his work, and who won the votes of the men 
rather by a fluent tongue and by the violence of his expressions 
of hatred against the North than by any soldierly qualities. 

Some of the officers had been months in prison, and they 
were highly indignant at the delays that had occurred in 
effecting their exchange. The South, indeed, would have been 
only too glad to get rid of some of their numerous prisoners, 
who were simply an expense and trouble to them, and to get 
their own men back into their ranks. They could ill spare the 
soldiers required to guard so large a number of prisoners, and 
a supply of food was in itself a serious matter. 

Thus it was that at Harper's Ferry and upon a good many 
other occasions they released vast numbers of prisoners on their 
simple paroles not to serve again. The North, however, were 
in no hurry to make exchange; and moreover, their hands 
were so full with their enormous preparations that they put 
aside all matters which had not the claim of urgency. 




|HE discipline in the prison at Elmira was not 
rigorous. The prisoners had to clean up the cells, 
halls, and yard, but the rest of their time they 
could spend as they liked. Some of those whose 
friends had money were able to live in comparative luxury, 
and to assist those who had no such resources; for throughout 
the war there was never any great difficulty in passing letters 
to and from the South. The line of frontier was enormous, 
and it was only at certain points that hostilities were actively 
carried on, consequently letters and newspapers were freely 
passed, and money could be sent in the same way from one 
part of the country to another. 

At certain hours of the day hawkers and vendors of such 
articles as were in most demand by the prisoners were allowed 
to enter the yard and to sell their wares to the Confederates. 
Spirits were not fallowed to be carried in, but tobacco and all 
kinds of food were permitted to pass. Vincent had at Alex- 
andria written a letter to his mother, and had given it to a man 
who represented that he made it his business to forward letters 
to an agent at Richmond, being paid for each letter the sum of 
a dollar on its delivery, Vincent therefore felt confident that 
the anxiety that would be felt at home when they learned 

dan! 171 

that he was among the missing at the battle of Antietam 
would be relieved. 

He was fairly supplied with money. He had, indeed, had 
several hundred dollars with him at the time he was captured; 
but these were entirely in Confederate notes, for which he got 
but half their value in Northern paper at Alexandria. He 
himself found the rations supplied in the prison ample, and 
was able to aid any of his fellow-prisoners in purchasing clothes 
to replace the rags they wore when captured. 

One day Vincent strolled down as usual towards the gate, 
where, under the eye of the guard, a row of men and women, 
principally negroes and negresses, were sitting on the ground 
with their baskets in front of them containing tobacco, pipes? 
fruit, cakes, needles and thread, buttons, and a variety of other 
articles in demand, while a number of prisoners were bargaining 
and joking with them. Presently his eye fell upon a negro 
before whom was a great pile of water-melons. He started as 
he did so, for he at once recognized the well-known face of 
Dan. As soon as the negro saw that his master's eye had 
fallen upon him he began loudly praising the quality of his fruit. 

"Here, massa officer, here berry fine melyons, ripe and 
sweet; no green trash; dis un good right through. Five cents 
each, sah. Berry cheap dese." 

"I expect they cost you nothing, Sambo," one of the Con- 
federate soldiers said as he bought a melon. "Got a neigh- 
bour's patch handy, ehV 

Dan grinned at the joke, and then selecting another from 
the bottom of his pile in the basket, offered it to Vincent. 

"Dis fine fruit, sah. Me sure you please with him!" 

Vincent took the melon and handed Dan five cents. A 
momentary glance was exchanged, and then he walked away 
and sat down in a quiet corner of the yard and cut open the 
melon. As he expected, he found a note rolled up in the 

172 A LETTER. 

centre. A small piece of the rind had been cut out and the 
pulp removed for its reception. The bit of rind had then been 
carefully replaced so that the cut would not be noticed without 
close inspection. It was from one of his fellow- officers, and 
was dated the day after his capture. He read as follows: — 

*'My dear Wingfield, — We are all delighted this afternoon to 
hear that instead, as we had believed, of your being knocked on 
the head you are a prisoner among the Yanks. Several of us 
noticed you fall just as we halted at the river, and we all 
thought that from the way in which you fell you had been 
shot through the head or heart. However, there was no time 
to inquire in that terrific storm of shot and shell. In the 
morning when the burying parties went down we could find no 
signs of you, although we knew almost to a foot where you 
had fallen. 

"We could only conclude at last that you had been carried 
off in the night by the Yanks, and as they would hardly take 
the trouble of carrying off a dead body, it occurred to us 
that you might after all be alive. So the colonel went to 
Lee, who at once sent a trumpeter with a flag down to the 
river to inquire, and we were all mightily pleased, as you may 
imagine, when he came back with the news that you were not 
only a prisoner, but unwounded, having been only stunned in 
some way. From the way you fell we suppose a round shot 
must have grazed your head; at least that is the only way we 
can account for it. 

"Your horse came back unhurt to the troop, and will be well 
cared for until you rejoin us, which we hope will not be long. 
Your boy kept the camp awake last night with his bowlings, 
and is at present almost out of his mind with delight. He tells 
me he has made up his mind to slip across the lines and make 
his way as a runaway to Alexandria, where you will, of course, 
be taken in the first place. He says he's got some money of 

dan's plans. 173 

yours; but I have insisted on his taking another fifty dollars, 
which you can repay me when we next meet. As he will not 
have to ask for work, he may escape the usual lot of runaways, 
who are generally pounced upon and set to work on the fortifi- 
cations of Alexandria and Washington. 

*'He intends to find out what prison you are taken to, and 
to follow you, with some vague idea of being able to aid you to 
escape. As he cannot write, he has asked me to write this 
letter to you, telling you what his idea is. He will give it to 
you when he finds an opportunity, and he wishes you to give 
him an answer, making any suggestion that may occur to you 
as to the best way of his setting about it. He says that he 
shall make acquaintances among the negroes north, and will 
find some one who will read your note to him and write you 
an answer. I have told him that if he is caught at the game 
he is likely to be inside a prison a bit longer than you are, 
even if worse doesn't befall him. However, he makes light 
of this, and is bent upon carrying out his plans, and I can only 
hope he will succeed. 

"I have just heard that we shall fall back across the 
Eappahannock to-morrow, and I imagine there will not be 
much hard fighting again until spring, long before which I 
hope you will be in your place among us again. We lost 
twenty-three men and two officers (Ketler and Sumner) yester- 
day. Good-bye, old fellow! I need not say keep up your 
spirits, for that you are pretty sure to do. — Yours truly, 

**Ja]mes Sinclair." 

After the first start at seeing Dan, Vincent was scarcely 
surprised, for he had often thought over what the boy would 
do, and had fancied that while, if he supposed him dead, he 
would go straight back to the Orangery, it was quite possible 
♦ihat, should he hear that he was a prisoner, Dan might take it 


into his head to endeavour to join him. As to his making his 
escape, that did not appear to be a very difficult undertaking 
now that he had a friend outside. The watch kept up was 
not a very vigilant one, for such numbers of prisoners were 
taken on both sides that they were not regarded as of very 
great importance, and, indeed, the difficulty lay rather in 
making across the country to the Southern border than in 
escaping from prison; for with a friend outside, with a disguise 
in readiness, that matter was comparatively easy. All that 
was required for the adventure was a long rope, a sharp 
file, and a dark night. 

The chief difficulty that occurred to Vincent arose from the 
fact that there were some twenty other prisoners in the same 
ward. He could hardly file through the bars of the window 
unnoticed by them, and they would naturally wish to share in 
his flight; but where one person might succeed in evading the 
vigilance of the guard, it was unlikely in the extreme that 
twenty would do so, and the alarm once given all would be 
recaptured. He was spared the trouble of making up his 
mind as to his plans, for by the time he had finished his letter 
the hour that the hucksters were allowed to sell their goods 
was passed, and the gates were shut and all was quiet. 

After some thought he came to the conclusion that the only 
plan would be to conceal himself somewhere in the prison just 
before the hour at which they were locked up in their wards. 
The alarm would be given, for the list of names was called 
over before lock-up, and a search would of course be made. 
Still, if he could find a good place for concealment, it might 
succeed, since the search after dark would not be so close and 
minute as that which would be made next morning. The only 
disadvantage would be that the sentries would be specially on 
the alert, as, unless the fugitive had succeeded in some way in 
passing out of the gates in disguise, he must still be within 


the walls, and might attempt to scale them through the night. 
This certainty largely increased the danger, and Vincent went 
to bed that night without finally determining what had better 
be done. 

The next morning while walking in the grounds he quite 
determined as to the place he would choose for his concealment 
if he adopted the plan he had thought of the evening before. 
The lower rooms upon one side of the building were inhabited 
by the governor and officers of the prison, and if he were 
to spring through an open window unnoticed just as it became 
dusk, and hide himself in a cupboard or under a bed there he 
would be safe for a time, as, however close the search might 
be in other parts of the building, it would be scarcely suspected, 
at any rate on the first alarm, that he had concealed himself in 
the officers' quarters. There would, of course, be the chance 
of his being detected as he got out of the window again at 
night, but this would not be a great risk. It was the vigilance 
of the sentries that he most feared, and the possibility that, as 
soon as the fact of his being missing was known, a cordon of 
guards might be stationed outside the wall in addition to those 
in the yard. The danger appeared to him to be so great that 
he was half inclined to abandon the enterprise. It would cer- 
tainly be weary work to be shut up there for perhaps a year 
while his friends were fighting the battles of his country; but 
it would be better after all to put up with that than to run 
any extreme risk of being shot. 

When he had arrived at this conclusion he went upstairs to 
his room to write a line to Dan. The day was a fine one, and 
he found that the whole of the occupants of the room had gone 
below. This was an unexpected bit of good fortune, and he 
at once went to the window and examined the bars. They 
were thick and of new iron, but had been hastily put up. The 
building had originally been a large warehouse, and when it 


had been converted into a prison for the Confederate prisoners 
the bars had been added to the windows. Instead, therefore, 
of being built into sohd stone and fastened in by lead, they 
were merely screwed on to the wooden framework of the 
windows, and by a strong turn-screw a bar could be removed 
in five minutes. This altogether altered the position. He 
had only to wait until the rest of the occupants of the room 
were asleep and then to remove the bar and let himself down. 

He at once wrote : 

"I want twenty yards of strong string, and the same length 
of rope that will bear my weight; also a strong turn-screw. 
When I have got this I will let you know night and hour. 
Shall want disguise ready to put on." 

He folded the note up into a small compass, and at th« hour 
at which Dan would be about to enter he sauntered down to 
the gate. In a short time the vendors entered, and were soon 
busy selling their wares. Dan had, as before, a basket of 
melons. Vincent made his way up to him. 

" I want another melon," he said, " as good as that you sold 
me last night." 

"Dey all de same, sah. First-rate melyons dese; just melt 
away in your mouf like honey." 

He held up one of the melons, and Vincent placed in his 
hands the coppers in payment. Between two of them he had 
placed the little note. Dan's hands closed quickly on the coins, 
and dropping them into his pocket he addressed the next cus- 
tomer, while Vincent sauntered away again. This time the 
melon was a whole one, and Vincent divided it with a couple 
of other prisoners, for the fruit was too large for one person 
to consume, being quite as large as a man's head. 

The next day another melon was bought, but this time 
Vincent did not open it in public. Examining it closely, he 
perceived that it had been cut through the middle, and no 


doubt contained a portion of the rope. He hesitated as to his 
next step. If he took the melon up to his room he would be 
sure to find some men there, and would be naturally called 
upon to divide the fruit; and yet there was nowhere else he 
could hide it. For a long time he sat with his back to the 
wall and the melon beside him, abusing himself for his folly in 
not having told Dan to send the rope in small lengths that he 
could hide about him. The place where he had sat down was 
one of the quietest in the yard, but men were constantly strol- 
ling up and down. He determined at last that the only possible 
plan was in the first place to throw his coat over his melon, to 
tuck it up underneath it, then to get hold of one end of the 
ball of rope that it doubtless contained and to endeavour to 
wind it round his body without being observed. It was a 
risky business, and he would gladly have tossed the melon 
over the wall had he dared to do so; for if he were detected, 
not only would he be punished with much more severe impris- 
onment, but Dan might be arrested and punished most severely. 

Unfortunately the weather was by no means hot, and it 
would look strange to take off his coat; besides, if he did so, 
how could he coil the rope round him without being observed 1 
So that idea was abandoned. He got up and walked to an 
angle in the wall, and there sat down again, concealing the 
melon as well as he could between him and the wall when any- 
one happened to come near him. He pulled the halves apart 
and found, as he had suspected, it was but a shell, the whole 
of the fruit having been scooped out. But he gave an excla- 
mation of pleasure on seeing that instead, as he feared, of a 
large ball of rope being inside, the interior was filled with 
neatly-made hanks, each containing several yards of thin but 
strong rope, together with a hank of strong string. 

Unbuttoning his coat, he thrust them in; then he took the 
melon rind and broke it into very small pieces and threw them 

(538) M 


about. He then went up to his room and thrust the hanks, 
unobserved, one by one among the straw which, covered by 
an army blanket, constituted his bed. To-morrow, no doubt, 
Dan would supply him somehow with a turn-screw. On going 
down to the gate next day he found that the negro had 
changed his commodity, and that this time his basket contained 
very large and fine cucumbers. These were selling briskly, 
and Vincent saw that Dan was looking round anxiously, and 
that an expression of relief came over his face as he perceived 
him. He had, indeed, but eight or ten cucumbers left. 

"Cucumbers to-day, sah? Berry fine cucumbers — first-rate 
cucumbers dese." 

"They look rather over-ripe," Vincent said. 

" Not a bit, sah ; dey just ripe. Dis berry fine one — ten 
cents dis." 

"You are putting up your prices, darkey, and are making 
a fortune out of us," Vincent said as he took the cucumber, 
which was a very large and straight one. He had no difficulty 
with this, as with the melon; a sharp twist broke it in two as 
he reached the corner he had used the day previously. It had 
been cut in half, one end had been scooped out for the recep- 
tion of the handle of the turn-screw, and the metal been driven 
in to the head in the other half. Hiding it under his jacket, 
he felt that he was now prepared for escape. 

He now asked himself whether he should go alone or take 
one or more of his comrades into his confidence, and finally 
determined to give a young Virginian officer named Geary, 
with whom he had been specially friendly during his imprison- 
ment, and Jackson, a chance of escape. He did not like the 
latter, but he thought that after the reconciliation that had 
taken place between them it was only right to take him rather 
than a stranger. Drawing them aside, then, he told them that 
he had arranged a mode of escape; it was impossible that all 


could avail themselves of it, but that they were welcome to 
accompany him. They thanked him heartily for the offer, and, 
when he explained the manner in which he intended to make 
off, agreed to try their fortune with him. 

" I propose," he said, " as soon as we are fairly beyond the 
prison, we separate, and each try to gain the frontier as best 
he can. The fact that three prisoners have escaped will soon 
be known all over the country, and there would be no chance 
whatever for us if we kept together. I will tell my boy to 
have three disguises ready; and when we once put aside our 
uniforms I see no reason why, travelling separately, suspicion 
should fall upon us; we ought to have no difficulty until at 
any rate we arrive near the border, and there must be plenty 
of points where we can cross without going anywhere near 
the Federal camps. The others at once agreed that the chances 
of making their way separately were much greater than if 
together. This being arranged, Vincent passed a note next day 
to Dan, telling him to have three disguises in readiness, and 
to be at the foot of the western wall, half-way along, at twelve 
o'clock on the first wet night. A string would be thrown over, 
with a knife fastened to it. He was to pull on the string till 
the rope came into his hand, and to hold that tight until they 
were over. Vincent chose this spot because it was equally 
removed from the sentry-boxes at the corners of the yard, 
and because there was a stone seat in the yard to which one 
end of the rope could be attached. 

That night was fine, but the next was thick and misty. At 
nine o'clock all were in bed, and he lay listening to the clocks 
in the distance. Ten struck, and eleven, and when he thought 
it was approaching twelve he got up and crept to the window. 
He was joined immediately by the others; the turn-screw was 
set to work; and, as he expected, Vincent found no trouble 
whatever with the screws, which were not yet rusted in the 


wood, and turned immediately when the powerful screw-driver 
was applied to them. When all were out the bar was carefully 
lifted from its place and laid upon the floor. 

The rope was then put round one of the other bars and 
drawn through it until the two ends came together. These 
were then dropped to the ground below. Geary went first, 
Jackson followed, and Vincent was soon standing beside them. 
Taking one end of the rope, he pulled it until the other passed 
round the bar and fell at their feet. All three were barefooted, 
and they stole noiselessly across the yard to the seat, which was 
nearly opposite their window. Vincent had already fastened 
his clasp-knife to the end of the string, and he now threw it 
over the wall, which was about 20 feet high. 

He had tied a knot at forty feet from the end, and, standing 
close to the wall, he drew in the string until the knot was in 
his hand. Another two yards, and he knew that the knife was 
hanging a yard from the ground against the wall. He now 
drew it up and down, hoping that the slight noise the knife 
made against the wall might aid Dan in finding it. In two or 
three minutes he felt a jerk, and knew that Dan had got it. 
He fastened the end of the string to the rope and waited. The 
rope was gradually drawn up; when it neared the end he 
fastened it to the stone seat. 

" Now," he said, " up you go, Geary." 

The order in which they were to ascend had been settled 
by lot, as Geary insisted that Vincent, who had contrived the 
whole aff'air, should be the first to escape; but Vincent de- 
clined to accept the advantage, and the three had accordingly 
tossed up for precedence. 

Geary was quickly over, and lowered himself on the opposite 
side. The others followed safely, but not without a good 
deal of scraping against the wall, for the smallness of the rope 
added to the difficulty of climbing it. However, the noise was 


FREE. 181 

SO slight that they had little fear of attracting attention, espe- 
cially as the sentries would be standing in their boxes, for the 
rain was now coming down pretty briskly. As soon as they were 
down Vincent seized Dan by the hand. 

*'My brave lad," he said, *'I owe you my freedom, and I 
sha'n't forget it. Now, where are the clothes f 

"Here dey are, sah. One is a rough suit, like a working 
man's; another is a black-and-white sort of suit — a check-suit; 
de oder one is for you — a clargy's suit, sir. You make very 
nice young minister, for sure." 

"All right, Dan!" Vincent said laughing; "give me the 
minister's suit." 

" Then I will be the countryman," Geary said. 

There was a little suppressed laughter as they changed their 
clothes in the dark; and then, leaving their uniforms by 
the wall, they shook hands and started at once in different 
directions, lest they might come across someone who would, 
when the escape was known, remember four men having passed 
him in the dark. 

"Now, Dan, what is the next move?" Vincent asked as they 
walked off. "Have you fixed upon any plan?" 

"No special plan, sah, but I have brought bag; you see I 
have him in my hand." 

"I suppose that's what you carried the clothes in?" 

" No, sir; I carried dem in a bundle. Dis bag has got linen, 
and boots, and oder tings for you, sah. What I tink am do 
best way is dis. Dar am a train pass trou here at two o'clock 
and stop at dis station. Some people always get out. Dar 
is an hotel just opposite the station, and some of de passengers 
most always go there. I thought the best way for you would 
be to go outside the station. Just when the train come in 
we walk across de road wid the others and go to hotel. You 
say you want bed-room for yo'self, and that your sarvant can 


sleep in de hall. Den in de morning you get up and breakfast, 
and go off by de fust train." 

" But then they may send down to look at the passengers 
starting, and I should be taken at once." 

"De train go out at seven o'clock, sah. I don't expect dey 
find dat you have got away before dat." 

" No, Dan. We all turn out at seven, and I shall be missed 
then; but it will be some little time before the alarm is given, 
and they find out how we got away, and send out search- 
parties. If the train is anything like punctual we shall be off 
long before they get to the station." 

" Besides, sah, dar are not many people knows your face, and 
it not likely de bery man dat know you come to the station. 
Lots of oder places to search, and dey most sure to tink you 
go right away — not tink you venture to stop in town till the 

*' That is so, Dan; and I think your plan is a capital one." 

Dan's suggestion was carried out, and at seven o'clock next 
morning they were standing on the platform among a number 
of other persons waiting for the train. Just as the locomotive's 
whistle was heard the sound of a cannon boomed out from the 
direction of the prison. 

"That means some of the prisoners have escaped," one of 
the porters on the platform said. " There have been five or 
six of them got away in the last two months, but most of 
them have been caught again before they have gone far. You 
see, to have a chance at all, they have got to get rid of their 
uniforms, and as we are all Unionists about here that ain't an 
easy job for 'em to manage." 

Every one on the platform joined in the conversation, ask- 
ing which way the fugitive would be likely to go, whether 
there were any cavalry to send after him, what would be done 
to him if he were captured, and other questions of the same 

AT ST. LOUIS. 183 

kind, Vincent joining in the talk. It was a relief to him when 
the train drew up, and he and Dan took their place in it, 
travelling, however, in different cars. Once fairly away, 
Vincent had no fear whatever of being detected, and could 
travel where he liked, for outside the prison there were not ten 
people who knew his face throughout the Northern States. It 
would be difficult for him to make his way down into Virginia 
from the North as the whole line of frontier there was occupied 
by troops, and patrols were on the watch night and day to pre- 
vent persons from going through the lines. He therefore deter- 
mined to go west to St. Louis, and from there work his way down 
through Missouri. After two days' railway travelling they 
reached St. Louis, a city having a large trade with the South, 
and containing many sympathizers with the Confederate cause. 
Vincent, having now no fear of detection, went at once to an 
hotel, and taking up the newspaper, one of the first paragraphs 
that met his eye was headed : — 

"Escape of three Confederate officers from Elmira. Great 
excitement was caused on Wednesday at Elmira by the dis- 
covery that three Confederate officers had, during the night, 
effected their escape from prison. One of the bars of the 
window of the ward on the first floor in which they were, with 
fifteen other Confederate officers, confined, had been removed; 
the screws having been taken out by a large screw-driver which 
they left behind them. They had lowered themselves to the 
yard, and climbed over the wall by means of a rope which was 
found in position in the morning. The rest of the prisoners 
professed an entire ignorance of the affair, and declare that 
until they found the beds unoccupied in the morning they knew 
nothing of the occurrence. 

" This is as it may be, but it is certain they must have been 
aided by traitors outside the prison, for the rope hung loose on 
the outside of the wall, and must have been held by some one 


there as they climbed it. The inside end was fastened to a 
stone seat, and they were thus enabled to slide down it on the 
other side. Their uniforms were found lying at the foot of the 
wall, and their accomplice had doubtless disguises ready for 
them. The authorities of the prison are unable to account for 
the manner in which the turn-screw and rope were passed in to 
them, or how they communicated with their friends outside." 

Then followed the personal description of each of the fugitives, 
and a request that all loyal citizens would be on the look-out 
for them, and would at once arrest any suspicious character 
unable to give a satisfactory account of himself. As Vincent 
sat smoking in the hall of the hotel he heard several present 
discussing the escape of the prisoners. 

" It does not matter about them one way or the other," one 
of the speakers said. "They seem to be mere lads, and 
whether they escape or not will not make any difference to 
anyone. The serious thing is that there must be some traitors 
among the prison officials, and that next time perhaps two or 
three generals may escape, and that would be a really serious 

" We need not reckon that out at present," another smoker 
said. " We haven't got three of the rebel generals yet, and as 
far as things seem to be going on, we may have to wait some 
time before we have. They are pretty well able to take care 
of themselves, I reckon." 

" They are good men, some of them, I don't deny," the first 
speaker said; "but they might as well give up the game. In 
the spring we shall have an army big enough to eat them 

"So I have heard two or three times before. Scott was 
going to eat them up, M^^Clellan was going to eat them up, 
then Pope was going to make an end of 'em altogether. Now 
M'^Clellan is having a try again, but somehow or other the 


eating up hasn't come off yet. It looks to me rather the other 

There was an angry growl from two or three of those 
sitting round, while others uttered a cordial "That's so." 

" It seems to me, by the way you put it, that you don't wish 
to see this business come to an end." 

"That's where you are wrong now. I do wish to see it 
come to an end. I don't want to see tens of thousands of men 
losing their lives because one portion of these States wants to 
ride rough-shod over the other. The sooner the North looks 
this affair squarely in the face and sees that it has taken up 
a bigger job than it can carry through, and agrees to let those 
who wish to leave it go if they like, the better for all parties. 
That's what I think about it." 

" I don't call that Union talk," the other said angrily. 

" Union or not Union, I mean to talk it, and I want to know 
who is going to prevent mef 

The two men rose simultaneously from their chairs, and in 
a second the cracks of two revolvers sounded. As if they had 
only been waiting for the signal, a score of other men leapt up 
and sprang at each other. They had, as the altercation grew 
hotter, joined in with exclamations of anger or approval, and 
Vincent saw that although the Unionists were the majority 
the party of sympathizers with the South was a strong one. 
Having neither arms nor inclination to join in a broil of this 
kind he made his escape into the street the instant hostilities 
began, and hurried away from the sound of shouts, oaths, the 
sharp cracks of pistols, and the breaking of glass. Ten minutes 
later he returned. The hotel was shut up, but an angry mob 
were assembled round the door shouting, "Down with the 
rebels! down with the Secessionists!" and were keeping up a 
loud knocking at the door. Presently a window upstairs 
opened, and the proprietor put out his head. 


" Gentlemen," he said, *' I can assure you that the persons 
who were the cause of this disturbance all left the hotel by the 
back way as soon as the affair was over. I have sent for the 
police commissioner, and upon his arrival he will be free to 
search the house, and to arrest anyone concerned in this affair." 

The crowd were not satisfied, and renewed their knocking at 
the door; but two or three minutes later an officer, with a 
strong body of police, arrived on the spot. In a few words he 
told the crowd to disperse, promising that the parties con- 
cerned in the affair would be taken up and duly dealt with. 
He then entered the house with four of his men, leaving the 
rest to wait. Vincent entered with the constables, saying that 
he was staying at the house. The fumes of gunpowder were 
still floating about the hall, three bodies were lying on the 
floor, and several men were binding up their wounds. The 
police-officer inquired into the origin of the broil, and all pre- 
sent concurred in saying that it arose from some Secessionists 
speaking insultingly of the army of the Union. 

Search was then made in the hotel, and it was found that 
eight persons were missing. One of the killed was a well- 
known citizen of the town ; he was the speaker on the Union 
side of the argument. The other two were strangers, and no one 
could say which side they espoused. All those present declared 
that they themselves were Union men, and it was supposed 
that the eight who were missing were the party who had taken 
the other side of the question. The evidence of each was taken 
down by the police-officer. Vincent was not questioned, as, 
having entered with the constables, it was supposed he was not 
present at the affair. 

In the morning Vincent read in the local paper a highly- 
coloured account of the fray. After giving a large number of 
wholly fictitious details of the fray, it went on to say: "The 
victims were Cyrus D. Jenkins, a much-esteemed citizen and 


a prominent Unionist; the other two were guests at the hotel; 
one had registered as P. J. Moore of Vermont, the other James 
Harvey of Tennessee. Nothing is as yet known as to the 
persons whose rooms were unoccupied, and who had doubtless 
made their escape as soon as the affray was over; but the ex- 
amination of their effects, which will be made by the police in 
the morning, will doubtless furnish a clue by which they will 
be brought to justice." 

Having read this, Vincent looked for the news as to the 
escape from Elmira, being anxious to know whether his com- 
panions had been as fortunate as himself in getting clear away. 
He was startled by reading the following paragraph : " We are 
enabled to state that the police have received a letter stating 
that one of the officers who escaped from Elmira prison has 
adopted the disguise of a minister, and is travelling through 
the country with a black servant. At present the authorities 
are not disposed to attach much credit to this letter, and are 
inclined to believe that it has been sent in order to put them 
on a wrong scent. However a watch will doubtless be kept 
by the police throughout the country for a person answering 
to this description." Accustomed to rise early, Vincent was 
taking his breakfast almost alone, only two or three of the 
other guests having made their appearance. He finished his 
meal hastily, and went out to Dan, who was lounging in 
front of the hotel. 

" Dan, go upstairs at once, pack the bag, bring it down and 
go out with it immediately. I will pay the bill. Don't stop 
to ask questions now." 

Vincent then walked up to the desk at the end of the hall, 
at which a clerk was sitting reading the paper. Sincerely 
hoping that the man's eye had not fallen on this paragraph, 
he asked if his account was made out. As he had fortunately 
mentioned on the preceding evening that he should be leaving 


in the morning, the bill was ready; and the clerk, scarce look- 
ing up from the paper, handed it to him. Vincent paid him 
the amount, saying carelessly, " I think I have plenty of time 
to catch the train for the east?" 

The clerk glanced at the clock. 

" Yes, it goes at 8, and you have twenty minutes. It's only 
five minutes' walk to the station." 






N leaving the hotel Vincent walked a short distance, 
and then stopped until Dan came up to him. 
"Any ting de matter, sah?" 
" Yes, Dan. There is a notice in the paper that 
the police have obtained information that I am travelling dis- 
guised as a minister, and have a negro servant with me." 

"Who told dem dat^" Dan asked in surprise. 

"AVe can talk about that presently, Dan; the great thing at 
present is to get away from here. The train for the south 
starts at ten. Give me the bag, and follow me at a distance. 
I will get you a ticket for Nashville, and as you pass me in the 
station I will hand it to you. It must not be noticed that we 
are travelling together. That is the only clue they have got." 

Dan obeyed his instructions. The journey was a long one. 
The train was slow and stopped frequently; passengers got in 
and out at every station. The morning's news from the various 
points at which the respective forces were facing each other 
was the general topic of conversation, and Vincent was inter- 
ested in seeing how the tone gradually changed as the pas- 
sengers from St. Louis one by one left the train and their 
places were taken by those of the more southern districts. 
At first the sentiment expressed had been violently Northern, 
and there was no dissent from the general chorus of hope and 


expectation that the South were ou theii* last legs aud that the 
rebellion would shortly be stamped out; but gradually, as the 
train approached the state of Tennessee, the Unionist opinion, 
although expressed with even greater force and violence, was 
by no means universal Many men read their papers in silence 
and took no part whatever in the conversation, but Vincent 
could see from the angry glances which they shot at the 
speakers that the sentiments uttered were distasteful to them. 
He himself had scarcely spoken during the whole joiu'ney. He 
had for some time devoted himself to the newspaper, and had 
then purchased a book from the newsboy who perambulated 
the cars. Presently a rough-looking man who had been among 
the wildest and most ^-iolent in his denunciation of the South 
said, looking at Vincent : 

"I see by the papers to-day that one of the cursed rebel 
officers who gave them the slip at Elmira is travelling in the 
disguise of a minister. I guess it's mighty unpleasant to know 
that even if you meet a parson in a train like as not he is 
a rebel in disguise. Xow, mister, may I ask where you have 
come from and where you are going to?" 

"You may ask what you like," Vincent said quietly; "but 
I am certainly not going to answer impertinent questions." 

A hum of approval was heard from several of the passengers. 

" If you hadn't got that black coat on," the man said angrily, 
" I would put you off the car in no time." 

"Black coat or no black coat," Vincent said, "you may find 
it more difficult than you think. My profession is a peaceful 
one; but even a peaceful man, if assaulted, may defend himself. 
You say it's unpleasant to know that if you travel with a man 
in a black coat he may be a traitor. It's quite as unpleasant 
to me to know that if I travel with a man in a brown one he 
may be a notorious ruffian, and may as likely as not have just 
served his time in a penitentiary." 


Two or three of the passengers laughed loudly. The man, 
starting up, crossed the car to where Vincent was sitting and 
laid his hand roughly on his shoulder. 

"You have got to get out!" he said "No man insults Jim 
Mullens twice." 

"Take your hand off my shoulder," Vincent said quietly, 
"or you will be sorry for it." 

The man shifted his hold to the collar of Vincent's coat 
amidst cries of shame from some of the passengers, while the 
others were silent, even those of his own party objecting to 
an assault upon a minister. It was only the fact that the fellow 
was a notorious local ruffian that prevented their expressing 
open disapproval of the act. As the man grasped Vincent's 
collar with his right hand Vincent saw his left go under his 
coat towards the pocket in the back of the trousers where re- 
volvers were always carried. In an instant he sprang to his 
feet, and before the man, who was taken by surprise at 
the suddenness of the movement, could steady himself, he 
struck him a tremendous blow between the eyes, and at the 
same moment, springing at his throat, threw him backward 
on to the floor of the carriage. As he fell the man drew out 
his revolver, but Vincent grasped his arm and with a sharp 
twist wrenched the revolver from his grasp, and leaping up, 
threw it out of the open window. The ruffian rose to his 
feet, for a moment half dazed by the violence with w^hich he 
had fallen, and poured out a string of imprecations upon Vin- 
cent. The latter stood calmly awaiting a fresh attack. For a 
moment the ruffian hesitated, and then, goaded to fury by the 
taunting laughter of the lookers-on, was about to spring upon 
him when he was seized by two or three of the passengers. 

"I reckon you have made a fool enough of yourself already," 
one of them said; "and we are not going to see a minister ill- 
treated, not if we know it." 


" You need not hold him," Vincent said. " It is not because 
one wears a black coat and is adverse to fighting that one is 
not able to defend one's self. We all learn the same things at 
college whether we are going into the church or any other pro- 
fession. You can let him alone if he really wants any more, 
which I do not beheve. I should be ashamed of myself if I 
could not punish a ruffian of his kind." 

"Let me get at him!" yelled Mullens; and the men who 
held him, taking Vincent at his word, released him. He rushed 
forward, but was received -with another tremendous blow on 
the mouth. He paused a moment in his rush, and Vincent, 
springing forward, administered another blow upon the same 
spot, knocking him off his legs on to the floor. On getting 
up he gave no sign of a desire to renew the conflict. His lips 
were badly cut and the blood was streaming from his mouth, 
and he looked at Vincent with an air of absolute bewilderment. 
The latter, seeing that the conflict was over, quietly resumed 
his seat; whilst several of the passengers came up to him, and, 
shaking him warmly by the hand, congratulated him upon 
having punished his assailant. 

" I wish we had a few more ministers of your sort down this 
way," one said. " That's the sort of preaching fellows like this 
understand. It was well you got his six-shooter out of his 
hand, for he would have used it as sure as fate. He ought to 
have been lynched long ago, but since the troubles began these 
fellows have had all their own way. But look to yourself 
when he gets out; he belongs to a band who call themselves 
Unionists, but who are nothing but plunderers and robbers. 
If you take my advice, when you get to the end of your journey 
you will not leave the station, but take a ticket straight back 
north. I tell you your life won't be safe five minutes when 
you once get outside the town. They daren't do anything 
there, for, though folks have had to put up with a good deal 


they wouldn't stand the shooting of a minister; still, outside 
the town I would not answer for your life for an hour." 

*' I have my duties to perform," Vincent said, " and I shall 
certainly carry them through; but I am obliged to you for 
your advice. I can quite understand that ruffian," and he 
looked at Mullens, who, with his handkerchief to his mouth, 
was sitting alone in a corner — for the rest had all drawn away 
from him in disgust — and glaring ferociously at him, "will 
revenge himself if he has the opportunity. However, as far 
as possible I shall be on my guard." 

"At any rate," the man said, "I should advise you when 
you get to Nashville to charge him with assault. We can all 
testify that he laid hands on you first. That way he will get 
locked up for some days anyhow, and you can go away about 
your business, and he won't know where to find you when he 
gets out." 

''Thank you — that would be a very good plan; but I might 
lose a day or two in having to appear against him; I am 
pressed for time and have some important business on hand, 
and I have no doubt I shall be able to throw him off my 
track, finish my business, and be off again before he can come 
across me." 

" Well, I hope no harm will come of it," the other said. " I 
like you, and I never saw anyone hit so quickly and so hard. 
It's a downright pity you are a preacher. My name's John 
Morrison, and my farm is ten miles from Nashville, on the 
Cumberland Eiver. If you should be going in that direction 
I should be right glad if you would drop in on me." 

The real reason that decided Vincent against following the 
advice to give his assailant in charge was that he feared 
he himself might be questioned as to the object of his journey 
and his destination. The fellow would not improbably say 
that he believed he was the Confederate officer who was 

(538) N 


trying to escape in the disguise of a clergyman and that he 
had therefore tried to arrest him. He could of course give 
no grounds for the accusation, still questions might be asked 
which would be impossible for him to answer; and, however 
plausible a story he might invent, the lawyer whom the fellow 
would doubtless employ to defend him might suggest that the 
truth of his statements might be easily tested by the despatch 
of a telegram, in which case he would be placed in a most awk- 
ward situation. It was better to run the risk of trouble with 
the fellow and his gang than to do anything which might lead 
to inquiries as to his identity. 

When the train reached Nashville, Vincent proceeded to an 
hotel. It was already late in the afternoon, for the journey 
had occupied more than thirty hours. As soon as it was dark 
he went out again and joined Dan, whom he had ordered to 
follow him at a distance and to be at the corner of the first 
turning to the right of the hotel as soon as it became dark. 
Dan was at the point agreed upon, and he followed Vincent 
until the latter stopped in a quiet and badly-lighted street. 

" Things are going badly, Dan. I had a row with a ruffian 
in the train, and he has got friends here, and this will add 
greatly to our danger in getting to our lines. I must get 
another disguise. AVhat money have you left?" 

"Not a cent, sah. I had only a five-cent piece left when 
we left St. Louis, and I spent him on bread on de journey." 

"That is bad, Dan. I did not think your stock was so 
nearly expended." 

" I had to keep myself, sah, and to pay for de railroad, and 
to buy dem tree suits of clothes, and to make de nigger I 
lodged with a present to keep him mouth shut." 

" Oh, I know you have had lots of expenses, Dan, and I am 
sure that you have not wasted your money; but I had not 
thought about it. I have only got ten dollars left, and we 


may have a hundred and fifty miles to travel before we are 
safe. Anyhow, you must get another disguise, and trust to 
luck for the rest. We have tramped a hundred and fifty miles 
before now without having anything beyond what we could 
pick up on the road. Here's the money. Get a rough suit of 
working-man's clothes, and join me here again in an hour's 
time. Let us find out the name of the street before we 
separate, for we may miss our way and not be able to meet 

Passing up into the busy streets, Vincent presently stopped 
and purchased a paper of a newsboy who was running along 
shouting, "News from the war. Defeat of the rebels. Fight 
in a railway car near Nashville : a minister punishes a border 

"Confound those newspaper fellows!" Vincent muttered to 
himself as he walked away. "They pick up every scrap of 
news. I suppose a reporter got hold of some one who was in 
the car." Turning down a quiet street, he opened the paper 
and by the light of the lamp read a graphic and minute account- 
of the struggle in the train. 

"I won't go back to the hotel," he said to himself. "I shall 
be having reporters to interview me. I shall be expected to 
give them a history of my whole life : where I was born, and 
where I went to school, and whether I prefer beef to mutton, 
and whether I drink beer, and a thousand other things. No; 
the sooner I am away the better. As to the hotel, I have only 
had one meal, and they have got the bag with what clothes 
there are; that will pay them well." Accordingly when 
he rejoined Dan he told him that they would start at 

"It is the best way, anyhow," he said. "To-morrow, no 
doubt, the fellow I had the row with will be watching the 
hotel to see which way I go off", but after once seeing me go 


to the hotel he will not guess that I shall be starting this even- 
ing. What have you got left, Dan?" 

"I got two dollars, sah." 

"That makes us quite rich men. We will stop at the first 
shop we come to and lay in a stock of bread and a pound or 
two of ham." 

"And a bottle of rum, sah. Berry wet and cold sleeping 
out of doors now, sah. Want a little comfort anyhow." 

"Very well, Dan; I think we can afford that." 

" Get one for half a dollar, massa. Could not lay out half a 
dollar better." 

Half an hour later they had left Nashville behind them, and 
were tramping along the road towards the east, Dan carrying 
a bundle in which the provisions were wrapped, and the neck 
of the bottle of rum sticking out of his pocket. As soon as 
they were well in the country Vincent changed his clothes for 
those Dan had just bought him, and making the others up into 
a bundle, continued his way. 

"Why you not leave dem black clothes behind, sah? What 
good take dem wid you?" 

"I am not going to carry them far, Dan. The first wood or 
thick clump of bushes we come to I shall hide them away; but 
if you were to leave them here they would be found the first 
thing in the morning, and perhaps be carried into the town 
and handed over to the police, and they might put that and 
the fact of my not having returned to the hotel — which is sure 
to be talked about — together, and come to the conclusion that 
either Mullens was right and that I was an escaped Con- 
federate, or that I had been murdered by Mullens. In either 
case they might get up a search, and perhaps send telegrams 
to the troops in the towns beyond us. Anyhow, it's best the 
clothes should not be found." 

All night they tramped along, pausing only for half an hour 


about midnight, when Dan suggested that as he had only had 
some bread to eat— and not too much of that — during the last 
forty- eight hours, he thought that he could do with some 
supper. Accordingly the bundle was opened, and they sat 
down and partook of a hearty meal. Dan had wisely taken 
the precaution of having the cork drawn from the bottle when 
he bought it, replacing it so that it could be easily extracted 
when required, and Vincent acknowledged that the spirit was 
a not unwelcome addition to the meal. When morning broke 
they had reached Duck's Eiver, a broad stream crossing the 

Here they drew aside into a thick grove, and determined 
to get a few hours' sleep before proceeding. It was nearly 
midday before they woke and proceeded to the edge of the 
trees. Vincent reconnoitred the position. 

"It is just as well we did not try to cross, Dan. I see the 
tents of at least a regiment on the other bank. No doubt they 
are stationed there to guard the road and railway bridge. 
This part of the country is pretty equally divided in opinion, 
though more of the people are for the South than for the North; 
but I know there are guerrilla parties on both sides moving 
about, and if a Confederate band was to pounce down on these 
bridges and destroy them it would cut the communication with 
their army in front, and put them in a very ugly position 
if they were defeated. No doubt that's why they have 
stationed that regiment there. Anyhow, it makes it awkward 
for us. We should be sure to be questioned where we are 
going, and as I know nothing whatever of the geography of the 
place we should find it very difficult to satisfy them. We 
must cross the river somewhere else. There are sure to be 
some boats somewhere along the banks; at any rate, the first 
thing to do is to move further away from the road." 

They walked for two or three miles across the country. The 


fields for the most part were deserted, and although here and 
there they saw cultivated patches, it was evident that most 
of the inhabitants had quitted that part of the country, 
which had been the scene of almost continued fighting from 
the commencement of the war; the sufferings of the inhabitants 
being greatly heightened by the bands of marauders who 
moved about plundering and destroying under the pretence of 
punishing those whom they considered hostile to the cause in 
whose favour — nominally, at least — they had enrolled them, 
selves. The sight of ruined farms and burnt houses roused 
Vincent's indignation; for in Virginia private property had, 
up to the time of Pope's assuming command of the army, 
been respected, and this phase of civil war was new and very 
painful to him. 

" It would be a good thing," he said to Dan, "if the generals 
on both sides in this district would agree to a month's truce, 
and join each other in hunting down and hanging these 
marauding scoundrels. On our side Mosby and a few other 
leaders of bands composed almost entirely of gentlemen, have 
never been accused of practices of this kind; but, with these 
exceptions, there is little to choose between them." 

After walking for four or five miles they again sat down till 
evening, and then going down to the river, endeavoured to find 
a boat by which they could cross, but to their disappointment 
no craft of any kind was visible, although in many places there 
were stages by the river-side, evidently used by farmers for 
unloading their produce into boats. Vincent concluded at last 
that at some period of the struggle all the boats must have 
been collected and either sunk or carried away by one of the 
parties to prevent the other crossing the river. 

Hitherto they had carefully avoided all the farmhouses 
that appeared to be inhabited; but Vincent now determined 
to approach one of them and endeavour to gain some informa- 


tion as to the distance from the next bridge, and whether it 
was guarded by troops, and to find out if possible the position 
in which the Northern forces in Tennessee were at present 
posted — all of which points he was at present ignorant of. He 
passed two or three large farmhouses without entering, for 
although the greater part of the male population were away 
with one or other of the armies, he might still find two or 
three hands in such buildings. Besides, it was now late, and 
whatever the politics of the inmates they would be suspicious 
of such late arrivals, and would probably altogether refuse 
them admittance. Accordingly another night was spent in the 

The next morning, after walking a mile or two, they saw a 
house at which Vincent determined to try their fortune. It 
was small, but seemed to have belonged to people above the 
class of farmer. It stood in a little plantation, and was sur- 
rounded by a verandah. Most of the blinds were down, and 
Vincent judged that the inmates could not be numerous. 

"You remain here, Dan, and I will go and knock at the 
door. It is better that we should not be seen together." 
Vincent accordingly went forward and knocked at the door. 
An old negress opened it. 

"We have nothing for tramps," she said. "De house am 
pretty well cleared out ob eberyting." She was about to shut 
the door when Vincent put his foot forward and prevented it 
closing. "Massa Charles," the negress called out, "bring yo' 
shot-gun quick; here am tief want to break into the house." 

" I am neither a thief nor a tramp," Vincent said; " and I do 
not want anything, except that I should be glad to buy a loaf 
of bread if you have one that you could spare. I have lost my 
way, and I want to ask directions." 

Dat am pretty likely story," the old woman said. " Bring 
up dat shot-gun quick, Massa Charles." 


"What is it, Chloe?" another female voice asked. 

" Here am a man pretend he hab lost his way and wants to 
buy a loaf. You stand back, Miss Lucy, and let your broder 
shoot de villain dead." 

" I can assure you that I am not a robber, madam," Vincent 
said through the partly-opened door. "I am alone, and only 
beg some information, which I doubt not you can give me." 

" Open the door, Chloe," the second voice said inside; " that is 
not the voice of a robber," 

The old woman reluctantly obeyed the order and opened the 
door, and Vincent saw in the passage a young girl of some six- 
teen years old. He took off his hat. 

"I am very sorry to disturb you," he said; "but I am an 
entire stranger here, and am most desirous of crossing the river, 
but can find no boat with which to do so." 

"Why did you not cross by the bridge?" the girl asked. 
"How did you miss the straight road?" 

"Frankly, because there were Northern troops there," 
Vincent said, " and I wish to avoid them if possible." 

" You are a Confederate ?" the girl asked, when the old negress 
interrupted her: 

" Hush ! Miss Lucy, don't you talk about dem tings; der plenty 
of mischief done already. AVhat hab you to do wid one side or 
de Oder?" 

The girl paid no attention to her words, but stood awaiting 
Vincent's answer. He did not hesitate. There was something 
in her face that told him that, friend or foe, she was not 
likely to betray a fugitive, and he answered: 

"I am a Confederate officer, madam. I have made my 
escape from Elmira prison, and am trying to find my way back 
into our lines." 

" Come in, sir," the girl said, holding out her hand. " We 
are Secessionists, heart and soul. My father and my brother 


are with our troops — that is, if they are both alive. I have 
little to offer you, for the Yankee bands have been here several 
times, have driven off our cattle, emptied our barns, and even 
robbed our hen-nests, and taken everything in the house they 
thought worth carrying away. But whatever there is, sir, you 
are heartily welcome to. I had a paper yesterday — it is not 
often I get one — and I saw there that three of our officers had 
escaped from Elmira. Are you one of theml" 

" Yes, madam. I am Lieutenant Wingfield." 

" Ah ! then you are in the cavalry. You have fought under 
Stuart," the girl said. " The paper said so. Oh how I wish we 
had Stuart and Stonewall Jackson on this side ! we should soon 
drive the Yankees out of Tennessee." 

" They would try to, anyhow," Vincent said, smiling, " and if 
it were possible they would assuredly do it. I was in Ashley's 
horse with the Stonewall division through the first campaign in 
the Shenandoah Valley and up to Bull Eun, and after that 
under Stuart. But is not your brother here? your servant 
called to him." 

" There is no one here but ourselves," the girl replied. " That 
was a fiction of Chloe's, and it has succeeded sometimes when 
we have had rough visitors. And now what can I do for you, 
sir? You said you wanted to buy a loaf of bread, and there- 
fore, I suppose, you are hungry. Chloe, put the bacon and 
bread on the table, and make some coffee. I am afraid that is 
all we can do, sir, but such as it is you are heartily welcome 
to it." 

"I thank you greatly," Vincent replied, "and will, if you 
will allow me, take half my breakfast out to my boy, who is 
waiting over there." 

"Why did you not bring him in?" the girl asked. "Of 
course he will be welcome too." 

" I did not bring him in before because two men in these 


days are likely to alarm a lonely household; and I would rather 
not bring him in now, because, if by any possibility the 
searchers, who are no doubt after me, should call and ask you 
whether two men, one a white and the other a negro, had been 
here, you could answer no." 

"But they cannot be troubling much about prisoners," the 
girl said. " Why, in the fighting here and Missouri they have 
taken many thousands of prisoners, and you have taken still 
more of them in Virginia; surely they cannot trouble them- 
selves much about one getting away." 

"I am not afraid of a search of that kind," Vincent said; 
"but, unfortunately, on my way down I had a row in the 
train with a ruflSan named Mullens, who is, I understand, con- 
nected with one of these bands of brigands, and I feel sure 
that he will hunt me down if he can." 

The girl turned pale. 

"Oh!" she said, "I saw that in the paper too, but it said 
that it was a minister. And it was you who beat that man and 
threw his revolver out of the window? Oh, then, you are in 
danger indeed, sir. He is one of the worst ruffians in the state, 
and is the leader of the party who strijDped this house and 
threatened to burn it to the ground. Luckily I was not at 
home, having gone away to spend the night with a neighbour. 
His baud have committed murders all over the country, hanging 
up defenceless people on pretence that they were Secessionists. 
They will show you no mercy if they catch you." 

" No. I should not expect any great mercy if I fell into their 
hands. Miss Lucy. I don't know your other name." 

"My name is Kingston. I ought to have introduced myself 
to you at once." 

" Now you understand, Miss Kingston, how anxious I am to 
get across the river, and that brings me to the question of the 
information I want you to give me. How far is it from the 


next bridge on the south, and are there any Federal troops 

"It is about seven miles to the bridge at William sport, 
we are just half-way between that and the railway bridge at 
Columbus. Yes, there are certainly troops there." 

" Then I see no way for it but to make a small raft to carry 
us across, Miss Kingston. I am a good swimmer, but the river 
is full and of considerable width; still, I think I can get across. 
But my boy cannot swim a stroke." 

" I know where there is a boat hid in the wood near the 
river," the girl said. " It belongs to a neighbour of ours, and 
when the Yankees seized the boats he had his hauled up and 
hidden in the woods. He was a Southerner, heart and soul, and 
thought that he might be able sometimes to take useful infor- 
mation across the river to our people ; but a few weeks after- 
wards his house was attacked by one of these bands — it was 
always said it was that of Mullens — and he was killed defend- 
ing it to the last. He killed several of the band before he fell, 
and they were so enraged that after plundering it they set it on 
fire and fastened the door, and his wife and two maid-servants 
were burned to death." 

" I wish instead of throwing his pistol out of the window I 
had blown his brains out with it," Vincent said; " and I would 
have done so if I had known what sort of fellow he was. How- 
ever, as to the boat, can you give me instructions where to find 
it, and is it light enough for two men to carry 1 " 

"Not to carry, perhaps, but to push along. It is a light 
boat he had for pleasure. He had a large one, but that was 
carried away with the others. I cannot give you directions, 
but I can lead you to the place." 

" I should not like you to do that," Vincent said. " We 
might be caught, and your share in the aff'air might be 


"Oh! there is no fear of that," the girl said; "besides, I am 
not afraid of danger." 

" I don't think it is right, Miss Kingston, for a young lady 
like you to be living here alone with an old servant in such times 
as these. You ought to go into a town until it's all over." 

"I have no one to go to," the girl said simply. "My 
father bought this place and moved here from Georgia only six 
years ago, and all my friends are in that state. Except our 
neighbours round here I do not know a soul in Tennessee. 
Besides, what can I do in a town? We can manage here, 
because we have a few fowls, and some of our neighbours last 
spring ploughed an acre or two of ground and planted corn for us, 
and I have a little money left for buying other things; but it 
would not last us a month if we went into a town. No, I have 
nothing to do but to stay here until you drive the Yankees 
back. I will willingly take you down to the boat to-night. 
Chloe can come with us and keej) me company on the way 
back. Of course it would not be safe to cross in the daytime." 

"I thank you greatly, Miss Kingston, and shall always 
remember your kindness. Now, when I finish my meal I will 
go out and join my boy, and will come for you at eight o'clock; 
it will be quite dark then." 

" Why should you not stay here till then, Mr. Wingfield? it 
is very unlikely that anyone will come along." 

"It is unlikely, but it is quite possible," Vincent replied; 
" and were I caught here by Mullens, the consequence would 
be very serious to you as well as to myself. No, I could not 
think of doing that. I will go out, and come back at eight 
o'clock. I shall not be far away; but if anyone should come 
and inquire, you can honestly say that you do not know where 
I am." 

"I have two revolvers here, sir; in fact I have three. L 
always keep one loaded, for there is never any saying whether it 


may not be wanted; the other two I picked up last spring. 
There was a fight about a quarter of a mile from here, and 
after it was over and they had moved away, for the Con- 
federates won that time and chased them back towards Nash- 
ville, I went out with Chloe with some water and bandages to 
see if we could do anything for the wounded. We were at 
work there till evening, and I think we did some good. As 
we were comJng back I saw something in a low bush, and 
going there found a Yankee officer and his horse both lying 
dead; they had been killed by a shell, I should think. Stooping 
over to see if he was quite dead I saw a revolver in his belt and 
another in the holster of his saddk, so I took them out and 
brought them home, thinking I might give them to some of 
our men, for we were then, as we have always been, very 
short of arms; but I have never had an opportunity of giving 
them away, and I am very glad now that I have not. Here 
they are, sir, and two packets of cartridges, for they are of the 
same size as those of the pistol my father gave me when he 
went away. You are heartily welcome to them." 

*' Thank you extremely," Vincent said as he took the pistols 
and placed the packets of ammunition in his pocket. "We 
cut two heavy sticks the night we left Nashville so as to be 
able to make something of a fight; but with these weapons we 
shall feel a match for any small parties we may meet. Then 
at eight o'clock I will come back again." 

"I shall be ready," the girl said; "but I wish you would 
have stopped, there are so many things I want to ask you 
about, and these Yankee papers, which are all we see now, are 
full of Hes." 

" They exaggerate their successes and to some extent con- 
ceal their defeats," Vincent said; "but I do not think it is the 
fault of the newspapers, whose correspondents do seem to me 
to try and tell the truth to their readers, but of the official 


despatches of the generals. The newspapers tone matters down, 
no doubt, because they consider it necessary to keep up the 
public spirit; but at times they speak out pretty strongly too. 
I am quite as sorry to leave as you can be that I should go, 
Miss Kingston, but I am quite sure that it is very much the 
wisest thing for me to do. By the way, if I should not be 
here by half-past eight I shall not come at all, and you will 
know that something has occurred to alter our plans. I trust 
there is no chance of anything doing so, but it is as well to 
arrange so that you should not sit up expecting me. Should 
I not come back you will know that I shall be always grateful 
to you for your kindness, and that when this war is over, if I 
am alive, I will come back and thank you personally." 

"Good-bye till this evening!" the girl said. "I will not 
even let myself think that anything can occur to prevent your 

"Golly, Massa Vincent, what a time you hab been!" Dan 
said when Vincent rejoined him. " Dis chile began to tink 
dat somefing had gone wrong, and was going in anoder five 
minutes to knock at de door to ask what dey had done to 

"It is all right, Dan, I have had breakfast, and have brought 
some for you; here is some bread and bacon and a bottle of 

"Dat good, Massa; my teeth go chatter chatter wid sleep- 
ing in dese damp woods; dat coffee do me good, sah. After 
dat I shall feel fit for any ting." 



Y the way, Dan," Vincent said when the negro had 
finished his meal, " we have not talked over that 
matter of my clothes. I can't imagine how that 
letter saying that one of us was disguised as a 
minister and would have a negro servant came to be written. 
Did you ever tell the people you lodged with anything about 
the disguise ? " 

"No, sah, neber said one word to dem about it; dey know 
nothing whatsoeber. De way me do wid your letter was dis. 
Me go outside town and wait for long time. At last saw black 
fellow coming along. Me say to him, * Can you read '? ' and he 
said as he could. I said 'I got a letter, I want to read him, 
I gib you a quarter to read him to me;' so he said yes, and he 
read de letter. He a long time of making it out, because he 
read print but not read writing well. He spell it out word by 
word, but I don't tink he understand dat it come from prison, 
only dat it come from someone who wanted some rope and a 
turn-screw. Me do just de same way wid de second letter. 
As for de clothes, me buy dem dat day, make dem up in 
bundle, and not go back to lodging at all. Me not know how 
anyone could know dat I buy dat minister clothes for you, 
sah. Me told de storekeeper dat dey was for cousin of mine, 
who preach to de colored folk, and dat I send him suit as 


present. Onless dat man follow me and watch me all de time 
till we go off together, sah, me no see how de debbil he guess 
about it." 

"That's quite impossible, Dan; it never could have been 
that way. It is very strange, for it would really seem that no 
one but you and I and the other two officers could possibly know 
about it." 

" Perhaps one of dem want to do you bad turn, Massa, and 
write so as to get you caught and shut up again." 

Vincent started at the suggestion. Was it possible that 
Jackson could have done him this bad turn after his having 
aided him to make his escape! It would be a villainous trick; 
but then he had always thought him capable of villainous 
tricks, and it was only the fact that they were thrown together 
in prison that had induced him to make up his quarrel with 
him; but though Jackson had accepted his advances, it was 
probable enough that he had retained his bad feeling against 
him, and had determined, if possible, to have his revenge on 
the first opportunity. 

"The scoundrel," he said to himself, "after my getting him 
free, to inform against me ! Of course I have no proof of it, 
but I have not the least doubt that it was him. If we ever 
meet again, Mr. Jackson, I will have it out with you." 

" You got two pistols, sah," Dan said presently. " How you 
get dem?" 

"The lady of that house gave them to me, Dan; they are 
one for you and one for me." 

" Dis chile no want him, sah; not know what to do wid him. 
Go off and shoot myself, for sure." 

"Well, I don't suppose you would do much good with it, 
Dan. As I am a good shot, perhaps I had better keep them 
both. You might load them for me as I fire them." 

"Berry well, sah; you show me how to load, me load." 

"IN THE WOOD/ 209 

Vincent showed Dan how to extricate the discharged 
cartridge-cases and to put in fresh ones, and after a quarter of 
an hour's practice Dan was able to do this with some speed. 

"When we going on, sah?" he said as, having learnt the 
lesson, he handed the pistol back to Vincent. 

"We are not going on until the evening, Dan. When it 
gets dark the lady is going to take us to a place where there 
is a boat hidden, and we shall then be able to cross the river." 

"Den I will hab a sleep, sah. Noting like sleeping when 
there is a chance." 

" I believe you could sleep three-quarters of your time, Dan. 
However, you may as well sleep now if you can, for there will 
be nothing to do till night." 

Vincent went back to the edge of the wood, and sat down 
where he could command a view of the cottage. The country 
was for the most part covered with wood, for it was but thinly 
inhabited except in the neighbourhood of the main roads. Few 
of the farmers had cleared more than half their ground; many 
only a few acres. The patch, in which the house with its little 
clump of trees stood nearly in the centre, was of some forty or 
fifty acres in extent, and though now rank with weeds, had 
evidently been carefully cultivated, for all the stumps had been 
removed, and the fence round it was of a stronger and neater 
character than that which most of the cultivators deemed 

Presently he heard the sound of horses' feet in the forest 
behind him, and he made his way back to a road which ran 
along a hundred yards from the edge of the wood. He reached 
it before the horsemen came up, and lay down in the under- 
wood a few yards back. In a short time two horsemen came 
along at a walking pace. 

" I call this a fool's errand altogether," one of them said in a 
grumbling tone. " We don't know that they have headed this 

(K8) o 


way; and if they have, we might search these woods for a 
month without finding them." 

"That's so," the other said; "but Mullens has set his heart 
on it, and we must try for another day or two. My idea is 
that when the fellow heard what sort of a chap Mullens was, 
he took the back train that night and went up north again." 

Vincent heard no more, but it was enough to show him that 
a sharp hunt was being kept up for him; and although he had 
no fear of being caught in the woods, he was well pleased at 
the thought that he would soon be across the water and beyond 
the reach of his enemy. He went back again to the edge of 
the clearing and resumed his watch. It was just getting dusk, 
and he was about to join Dan when he saw a party of twelve 
men ride out from the other side of the wood and make 
towards the house. Filled with a vague alarm that possibly 
someone might have caught sight of him and his follower on 
the previous day, and might, on being questioned by the 
searchers, have given them a clue as to the direction in which 
they were going, Vincent hurried to the spot where he left 
Dan. The negro jumped up as he approached. 

"Me awake long time, sah. Began to wonder where you 
had got to." 

"Take your stick and come along, Dan, as fast as you can." 

Without another word Vincent led the way along the edge 
of the wood to the point where the clump of trees at the back 
of the house hid it from his view. 

"Now, Dan, stoop low and get across to those trees." 

Greatly astonished at what was happening, but having im- 
plicit faith in his master, Dan followed without* a question. 

It was but ten minutes since Vincent had seen the horsemen, 
but the darkness had closed in rapidly, and he had little fear 
of his approach being seen. He made his way through the 
trees, and crept up to the house, and then kept close along it 


until he reached the front. There stood the horses, with the 
bridles thrown over their necks. The riders were all inside 
the house. 

"Look here, Dan," he whispered, *'you keep here perfectly 
quiet until I join you again or you hear a pistol-shot. If you 
do hear a shot, rush at the horses with your stick and drive 
them off at full gallop. Drive them right into the woods if you 
can, and then lie quiet there till you hear me whistle for you. 
If you don't hear my whistle you will know that something has 
happened to me, and then you must make your way home as 
well as you can." 

'* Oh, Master Vincent," Dan began; but Vincent stopped him. 

"It's no use talking, Dan; you must do as I order you. I 
hope all will be well; but it must be done anyhow." 

" Let me come and load your pistol and fight with you, sah." 

"You can do more good by stampeding the horses, Dan. 
Perhaps, after all, there will be no trouble." 

So saying, leaving Dan with the tears running down his 
cheeks, Vincent went to the back of the house and tried the 
door there. It was fastened. Then he went to the other side; 
and here, the light streaming through the window, which was 
open, and the sound of loud voices, showed him the room where 
the party were. He crept cautiously up and looked in. Mullens 
was standing facing Lucy Kingston; the rest of the men were 
standing behind him. The girl was as pale as death, but was 
quiet and composed. 

" Now," Mullens said, " I ask you for the last time. You 
have admitted that a man has been here to-day, and that you 
gave him food. You say he is not in the house; and as we 
have searched it pretty thoroughly, we know that's right enough. 
You say you don't know where he is, and that may be true 
enough in a sense ; but I have asked you whether he is coming 
back again, and you won't answer me. I just give you three 

212 "one!" 

seconds;" and he held out his arm with a pistol in it. " One!" 
As the word " Two " left his lips, a pistol cracked, and Mullens 
fell back with a bullet in his forehead. 

At the same time Vincent shouted at the top of his voice, 
"Come on, lads; wipe 'em out altogether. Don't let one of 
them escape." As he spoke he discharged his pistol rapidly 
into the midst of the men, who were for the moment too taken 
by surprise to move, and every shot took effect upon them. 
At the same moment there was a great shouting outside, and 
the trampling of horses' feet. One or two of the men hastily 
returned Vincent's fire, but the rest made a violent rush to the 
door. Several fell over the bodies of their comrades, and 
Vincent had emptied one of his revolvers and fired three shots 
with the second before the last of those able to escape did so. 
Five bodies remained on the floor. As they were still seven 
to one against him, Vincent ran to the corner of the house, pre- 
pared to shoot them as they came round; but the ruffians were 
too scared to think of anything but escape, and they could be 
heard running and shouting across the fields. 

Vincent ran into the house. He had seen Lucy Kingston 
fall prostrate at the same instant as the ruffian facing her. 
Strung up to the highest tension, and expecting in another 
second to be shot, the crack of Vincent's pistol had brought 
her down as surely as the bullet of Mullens would have done. 
Even in the excitement of firing, Vincent felt thankful when 
he saw her fall, and knew that she was safe from the bullets 
flying about. When he entered the room he found the old 
negress lying beside her, and thought at first that she had 
fallen in the fray. He found that she was not only alive, but 
unhurt, having, the instant she saw her young mistress fall, 
thrown herself upon her to protect her from harm. 

"Am dey all gone, sahf she asked, as Vincent somewhat 
roughly pulled her oflf the girl's body. 


"They have all gone, Chloe; but I do not know how soon 
they may be back again. Get your mistress round as soon as 
you can. I am sure that she has only fainted, for she fell the 
instant I fired, before another pistol had gone off." 

Leaving the old woman to bring Miss Kingston round, he 
reloaded his pistols and went to the door. In a few minutes 
the sound of horses galloping was heard. 

"Halt, or I fire!" he shouted. 

"Don't shoot, sah! don't shoot! it am me!" and Dan rode 
up, holding a second horse by the bridle. "I thought I might 
as well get two ob dem, so I jump on de back ob one and get 
hold ob anoder bridle while I was waiting to hear your pistol 
fire. Den de moment I heard dat I set de oders oflf, and 
chased dem to de corner where de gate was where dey came 
in at, and along de road for half a mile; dey so frightened 
dey not stop for a long time to come. Den I turn into de 
wood and went through de trees, so as not to meet dem fellows, 
and lifted two of de bars of the fence, and here I am. You are 
not hurt, massa?" 

"My left arm is broken, I think, Dan; but that is of no con- 
sequence. I have shot five of these fellows — their leader among 
them — and I expect three of the others have got a bullet some- 
where or other in them. There was such a crowd round the 
door that I don't think one shot missed. It was well I thought 
of stampeding the horses; that gave them a greater fright than 
my pistols. No doubt they thought that there was a party of 
our bush-whackers upon them. Now, Dan, you keep watch, and 
let me know if you see any signs of their returning. I think 
they are too shaken up to want any more fighting; but as there 
are seven of them, and they may guess there are only two or 
three of us, it is possible they may try again." 

"Me don't tink dey try any more, sah. Anyhow, I look out 
sharp." So saying, Dan, fastening up one of the horses, rode 


the other in a cuxle round and round the house and little 
plantation, so that it would not be possible for anyone to cross 
the clearing without being seen. Vincent returned to the 
house, and found Miss Kingston just recovering consciousness. 
She sat upon the ground in a confused way. 

"What has happened, Nurse"?" 

"Never mind at present, dearie. Juss you keep yourself 
quiet, and drink a little water." 

The girl mechanically obeyed. The minute she put down 
the glass her eye fell upon Vincent, who was standing near 
the door. 

"Oh! I remember now!" she said, starting up. "Those men 
were here, and they were going to shoot me. One — two — and 
then he fired, and it seemed that I fell dead. Am I not 
wounded ? '' 

"He never fired at all. Miss Kingston; he will never fire 
again. I shot him as he said 'two,' and no doubt the shock 
of the sudden shot caused you to faint dead away. You fell 
the same instant that he did." 

"But where are the others'?" the girl said with a shudder. 
"How imprudent of you to come here! I hoped you had 
seen them coming towards the house." 

" I did see them. Miss Kingston, and that was the reason I 
came. I was afraid they might try rough measures to learn 
from you where I was hidden. I arrived at the window just as 
the scoundrel was pointing his pistol towards you, and then 
there was no time to give myself up, and I had nothing to do 
for it but to put a bullet through his head in order to save you. 
Then I opened fire upon the rest, and my boy drove off their 
horses. They were seized with a panic and bolted, thinking they 
were surrounded. Of course I kept up my fire, and there are 
four of them in the next room besides their captain. And now, 
if you please, I will get you, in the first place, to bind my arm 


tightly across my chest, for one of their bullets hit me in the 
left shoulder, and has, I fancy, broken it." 

The girl gave an exclamation of dismay. 

"Do not be alarmed, Miss Kingston; a broken snoulder is 
not a very serious matter, only I would rather it had not hap- 
pened just at the present moment; there are more important 
affairs in hand. The question is, What is to become of you? 
It is quite impossible that you should stay here after what has 
happened. Those scoundrels are sure to come back again." 

"What am I to do, Chloe?" the girl asked in perplexity. 
"I am sure we cannot stay here. We must find our way through 
the woods to Nashville, and I must try and get something to 
do there." 

" There is another way, Miss Kingston, if you like to try it," 
Vincent said. " Of course it would be toilsome and unpleasant, 
but I do not think it would be dangerous, for even if we got 
caught there would be no fear of your receiving any injury from 
the Federal troops. My proposal is that you and Chloe should 
go with us. If we get safely through the Federal lines I will 
escort you to Georgia and place you with your friends there." 

The girl looked doubtful for a moment, and then she shook 
her head. 

" I could not think of that, sir. It would be difficult enough 
for j^ou to get through the enemy by yourselves. It would add 
terribly to your danger to have us with you." 

" I do not think so," Vincent replied. " Two men would be 
sure to be questioned and suspected, but a party like ours would 
be far less likely to excite suspicion. Every foot we get south 
we shall find ourselves more and more among people who are 
friendly to us, and although they might be afraid to give shelter 
to men, they would not refuse to take women in. I really think. 
Miss Kingston, that this plan is the best. In the first place, it 
would be a dangerous journey for you through the woods to 


Nashville, and if you fall into the hands of any of those rufhans 
who have been here you may expect uo mercy. At Nashville 
you will have great difficulty in obtaining employment of any 
kind, and even suppose you went further north your position 
as a friendless girl would be a most painful one. As to your 
staying here, that is plainly out of the question. I think that 
there is no time to lose in making a decision. Those fellows 
may go to the camp at the bridge, give their account of the 
affair, declare they have been attacked by a party of Confederate 
sympathizers, and return here with a troop of horse." 

"What do you say, Chloel" Lucy asked. 

"I'se ready to go ^wid you whereber you like, Miss Lucy; but 
I do tink dat in times like dis dat a young gal is best wid her 
own folk. It may be hard work getting across, but as to 
danger dar can't be much more danger than dar has been in 
stopping along here, so it seems to me best to do as dis young 
officer says." 

" Very well, then, I will, sir. We will go under your protec- 
tion, and will give you as little trouble as we can. We will be 
ready in five minutes. Now, Chloe, let us put a few things 
together. The fewer the better. Just a small bundle which 
we can carry in our hands." 

In a few minutes they returned to the room, Chloe carrying 
a large basket, and looking somewhat ruffled. 

" Chloe is a little upset," the girl said, smiling, " because I 
won't put my best things on; and the leaving her Sunday gown 
behind is a sore trouble to her." 

" No wonder, sah," Chloe said, " why dey say dat thar am 
no pretty dresses in de 'Federacy, and dat blue gown wid red 
spots is just as good as new, and it am downright awful to 
tink dat dose fellows will come back and take it." 

" Never mind, Chloe," Vincent said, smiling. " No doubt we 
are short of pretty dresses in the South, but I daresay we shall 


be able to find you something that will be almost as good. 
But we must not stand talking. You are sure you have got 
everything of value, Miss Kingston?" 

" I have got my purse," she said, *' and Chloe has got some 
food. I don't think there is anything else worth taking in the 

" Very well, we will be off," Vincent said, leading the way to 
the door. 

A minute later Dan rode past, and Vincent called him and 
told him they were going to start. 

"Shall we take de horses, sah?" 

" No, Dan. We are going to carry out our original plan of 
crossing the river in a boat, and I think the horses would be 
rather in our way than not. But you had better not leave 
them here. Take them to the farther side of the clearing and 
get them through the fence into the forest, then strike across 
as quickly as you can and join us where we were stopping to- 
day. Miss Kingston and her servant are going with us. They 
cannot stay here after what has taken place." 

Dan at once rode off with the two horses, and the others 
walked across to the edge of the clearing and waited until he 
rejoined them. 

"Now, Miss Kingston, you must be our guide at present." 

"We must cross the road first," the girl said. "Nearly 
opposite to where we are there is a little path through the 
wood leading straight down to the river. The boat lies only a 
short distance from it." 

The path was a narrow one, and it was very dark under the 

" Mind how you go," Vincent said as the girl stepped lightly 
on ahead. " You might get a heavy fall if you caught your 
foot on a root." 

She instantly moderated her pace. " I know the path well, 


but it was thoughtless of me to walk so fast. I forgot you did 
not know it, and if you were to stumble you might hurt your 
arm terribly How does it feel now?" 

"It certainly hurts a bit," Vincent replied in a cheerful tone; 
" but now it is strapped tightly to me it cannot move much. 
Please do not worry about me." 

"Ah!" she said, "I cannot forget how you got it — ^how you 
attacked twelve men to save me!" 

"Still less can I forget, Miss Kingston, how you, a young 
girl, confronted death rather than say a word that would place 
me in their power." 

"That was quite different, Mr. Wingfield. My own honour 
was pledged not to betray you, who had trusted me." 

"Well, we will cry quits for the present, Miss Kingston; or, 
rather, we will be content to remain for the present in each 
other's debt." 

A quarter of an hour's walking brought them to the river. 

"Now," Lucy said, "we must make our way about ten yards 
through these bushes to the right." 

With some diflBculty they passed through the thick screen of 
bushes, the girl still leading the way. 

"Here it is," she said; "I have my hand upon it." Vincent 
was soon beside her, and the negroes quickly joined them. 

"There are no oars in the boat," Vincent said, feeling along 
the seat. 

"Oh! I forgot! They are stowed away behind the bushes 
on the right; they were taken out, so that if the Yankees found 
the boat it would be of no use to them." 

Dan made his way through the bushes, and soon found the 
oars. Then uniting their strength they pushed the boat through 
the high rushes that screened it from the river. 

"It is afloat," Vincent said. "Now, Dan, take your place in 
the bow." 


" I will row, Mr. Wingfield. I am a very good hand at it. 
So please take your seat with Chloe in the stern." 

"Dan can take one oar, anyhow," Vincent replied; "but I 
will let you row instead of me. I am afraid I should make a 
poor hand of it with only one arm." 

The boat pushed quietly out. The river was about a hundred 
yards wide at this point. They had taken but a few strokes 
when Vincent said : 

"You must row hard, Miss Kingston, or we shall have to 
swim for it. The water is coming through the seams fast." 

The girl and Dan exerted themselves to the utmost; but, 
short as was the passage, the boat was full almost to the 
gunwale before they reached the opposite bank, the heat of the 
sun having caused the planks to open during the months it had 
been lying ashore. 

" This is a wet beginning," Lucy Kingston said laughing, as 
she tried to wring the water out of the lower part of her dress. 
"Here, Chloe; you wring me and I will wring you." 

" Now, Dan, get hold of that head-rope," Vincent said; " haul 
her up little by little as the water runs out over the stern." 

"I should not trouble about the boat, Mr. Wingfield; it is 
not likely we shall ever want it again." 

" I was not thinking of the boat; I was thinking of ourselves. 
If it should happen to be noticed at the next bridge as it 
drifted down, it would at once suggest to anyone on the look- 
out for us that we had crossed the river; whereas, if we get it 
among the bushes here, they will believe that we are hidden in 
the woods or have headed back to the north, and we shall be 
a long way across the line, I hope, before they give up searching 
for us in the woods on the other side." 

"Yes; I didn't think of that. "We will help you with the 

The boat was very heavy, now that it was full of water. 


Inch by inch it was pulled up, until the water was all out 
except near the stern. Dan and Vincent then turned it bottom 
upwards, and it was soon hauled up among the bushes. 

" Now, Miss Kingston, which do you think is our best course 1 
I know nothing whatever of the geography here." 

"The next town is Mount Pleasant; that is where the 
Williamsport road passes the railway. If we keep south we 
shall strike the railway, and that will take us to Mount Pleas- 
ant. After that the road goes on to Florence, on the Tennessee 
Eiver. The only place that I know of on the road is Lawrence- 
burg. That is about forty miles from here, and I have heard 
that the Yankees are on the line from there right and left. I 
believe our troops are at Florence; but I am not sure about 
that, because both parties are constantly shifting their position, 
and I hear very little, as you may suppose, of what is being 
done. Anyhow, I think we cannot do better than go on until 
we strike the railway, keep along by that till we get within 
a short distance of Mount Pleasant, and then cross it. After 
that we can decide whether we will travel by the road or keep 
on through the woods. But we cannot find our way through 
the woods at night; we should lose ourselves before we had 
gone twenty yards." 

"I am afraid we should. Miss Kingston." 

"Please call me Lucy," the girl interrupted. "I am never 
called anything else, and I am sure this is not a time for 

" I think that it mil be better; and will you please call me 
Vin. It is much shorter and pleasanter using our first names ; 
and as we must pass for brother and sister if we get among the 
Yankees, it is better to get accustomed to it. I quite agree 
with you that it will be too dark to find our way through the 
woods unless we can discover a path. Dan and I will see if we 
can find one. If we can, I think it w411 be better to go on a 


little way at any rate, so as to get our feet warm and let our 
clothes dry a little." 

"They will not dry to-night," Lucy said. "It is so damp 
in the woods that even if our clothes were dry now they would 
be wet before morning." 

" I did not think of that. Yes, in that case I do not see 
that we should gain anything by going farther; we will push 
on for two or three hundred yards, if we can, and then we can 
light a fire without there being any chance of it being seen 
from the other side." 

"That would be comfortable, Mr. — I mean Vin," the girl 
agreed. " That is, if you are quite sure that it would be safe. 
I would rather be wet all night than that we should run any 

" I am sure if we can get a couple of hundred yards into 
this thick wood the fire would not be seen through it," Vincent 
said; " of course I do not mean to make a great bonfire which 
would light up the forest." 

For half an hour they forced their way through the bushes, 
and then Vincent said he was sure that they had come far 
enough. Finding a small open space, Dan, and Lucy, and the 
negress set to work collecting leaves and dry sticks. Vincent 
hadfstill in his pocket the newspaper he had bought in the 
streets of Nashville, and he always carried lights. A piece of 
the paper was crumpled up and lighted, a few of the driest 
leaves they could find dropped upon it, then a few twigs, until 
at last a good fire was burning. 

"I think that is enough for the present," Vincent said. 
" Now we will keep on adding wood as fast as it burns down, 
so as to get a great pile of embers, and keep two or three good 
big logs burning all night." 

He then gave directions to Dan, who cut a long stick and 
fastened it to two saplings, one of which grew Just in front of 


the fire. Then he set to work and cut off branches, and laid 
them sloping against it, and soon had an arbour constructed of 
sufficient thickness to keep off the night dews. 

"I think you will be snug in there," Vincent said when he 
had finished. "The heat of the fire will keep you dry and 
warm, and if you lie with your heads the other way I think 
your things will be dry by the morning. Dan and I will lie 
down by the other side of the fire. We are both accustomed 
to sleep in the open air, and have done so for months." 

" Thank you very much," she said. " Our things are drying 
already, and I am as warm as a toast; but, indeed, you need 
not trouble about us. We brought these warm shawls with us 
on purpose for night-work in the forest. Now, I think we will 
try the contents of the basket Dan has been carrying." 

The basket, which was a good-sized one, was opened. Chloe 
had before starting put all the provisions in the house into it, 
and it contained three loaves, five or six pounds of bacon, a 
canister of tea and loaf-sugar, a small kettle, and two pint 
mugs, besides a number of odds and ends. The kettle Dan 
had, by Chloe's direction, filled with water before leaving the 
river, and this was soon placed among the glowing embers. 

**But you have brought no teapot, Chloe!" 

"Dar was not no room for it, Miss Lucy. We can make tea 
berry well in de kettle." 

"So we can. I forgot that. We shall do capitally." 

The kettle was not long in boiling. Chloe produced some 
spoons and knives and forks from the basket. 

"Spoons and forks are luxuries, Chloe," Vincent said laugh- 
ing. "We could have managed without them." 

"Yes, sah; but me not going to leave massa's silver for dose 
villains to find." 

Lucy laughed. "At any rate, Chloe, we can turn the silver 
into money if we run short. Now the kettle is boiling." 


It was taken off the fire, and Lucy poured some tea into it 
from the canister, and then proceeded to cut up the bread. 
A number of slices of bacon had already been cut off, and a 
stick thrust through them, and Dan, who was squatted at the 
other side of the fire holding it over the flames, now pro- 
nounced them to be ready. The bread served as plates, and the 
party were soon engaged upon their meal, laughing and talking 
over it as if it had been an ordinary picnic in the woods, though 
at times Vincent's face contracted from the sharp twitching of 
pain in his shoulder. Vincent and Lucy first drank their tea, 
and the mugs were then handed to Dan and Chloe. 

"This is great fun," Lucy said. "If it goes on like it all 
through our journey we shall have no need to grumble. Shall 
we, Chloe r' 

"If you don't grumble, Miss Lucy, you may be quite sure 
dat Chloe will not. But we hab not begun our journey at 
present; and I spec dat we shall find it pretty hard work before 
we get to de end. But nebber mind dat; any ting is better dan 
being all by ourselves in dat house. Terrible sponsibility dat." 

"It was lonely," the girl said, "and I am glad we are away 
from it whatever happens. What a day this has been! Who 
could have dreamt when I got up in the morning that all this 
would take place before night? It seems almost like a dream, 
and I can hardly believe" — and here she stopped with a little 
shiver as she thought of the scene she had passed through with 
the band of bush-whackers. 

" I would not think anything at all about it," Vincent said. 
"And now I should recommend your turning in, and getting 
to sleep as soon as you can. We will be off at daybreak, and 
it is just twelve o'clock now." 

Five minutes later Lucy and her old nurse were snugly en- 
sconsed in their little bower, while Vincent and Dan stretched 
themselves at full length on the other side of the fire. In spite 

224 Vincent's wound. 

of the pain in his shoulder Vincent dosed off occasionally, but 
he was heartily glad when he saw the first gleam of light in 
the sky. He woke Dan. 

" Dan, do you take the kettle down to the river and fill it. 
We had better have some breakfast before we make our start. 
If you can't find your way back, whistle and I will answer 

Dan, however, had no occasion to give the signal. It took 
him little more than five minutes to traverse the distance that 
had occupied them half an hour in the thick darkness, and 
Vincent was quite surprised when he reappeared again with 
the kettle. Not until it was boiling, and the bacon was ready, 
did Vincent raise his voice and call Lucy and the nurse. 

"This is reversing the order of things altogether," the girl 
said as she came out and saw breakfast already prepared. " I 
shall not allow it another time, I can tell you." 

*' We are old campaigners, you see," Vincent said, " and ac- 
customed to early movements. Now please let us waste no 
time, as the sooner we are off the better." 

In a quarter of an hour breakfast was eaten and the basket 
packed, and they were on their way. Now the bright, glowing 
light in the east was sufficient guide to them as to the direction 
they should take, and setting their face to the south they started 
through the forest. In a quarter of an hour they came upon 
a little stream running through the wood, and here Vincent 
suggested that Lucy might like a wash, a suggestion which was 
gratefully accepted. He and Dan went a short distance down 
the streamlet, and Vincent bathed his face and head. 

" Dan, I will get you to undo this bandage and get off my 
coat; then I will make a pad of my handkerchief and dip it in 
the water and you can lay it on my shoulder, and then help me 
on again with my coat. My arm is getting horribly painful." 

Vincent's right arm was accordingly drawn through the sleeve 


and the coat turned down so as to enable Dan to lay the wet 
pad on the shoulder. 

" It has not bled much," Vincent said, looking down at it. 

"No, sah, not much blood on de shirt." 

" Pull the coat down as far as the elbow, Dan, and bathe it 
for a bit." 

Using his cap as a baler, Dan bathed the arm for ten 
minutes, then the wet pad was placed in position, and with 
some difficulty the coat got on again. The arm was then 
bandaged across the chest, and they returned to the women, 
who were beginning to wonder at the delay. 




[OU must see a surgeon whatever the risk," Lucy said 
when the others joined them, for now that it was 
light she could see by the paleness of Vincent's 
face, and the drawn expression of the mouth, how 
much he had suffered. 

" You have made so light of your wound that we have not 
thought of it half as much as we ought to do, and you must 
have thought me terribly heartless to be laughing and talking 
when you were in such pain. But it will never do to go on 
like this; it is quite impossible for you to be travelling so far 
without having your shoulder properly attended to." 

"I should certainly be glad to have it looked to," Vincent 
replied. " I don't know whether the bullet's there or if it has 
made its way out, and if that could be seen to, and some 
spHnts or something of that sort put on to keep things in their 
right place, no doubt I should be easier; but I don't see how 
it is to be managed. At any rate, for the present we must 
go on, and I would much rather that you said nothing about 
it. There it is, and fretting over it won't do it any good, 
while if you talk of other things I may forget it sometimes." 

In two hours they came upon the railway, whose course lay 
diagonally across that they were taking. They followed it 
until they caught sight of the houses of Mount Pleasant, some 


two miles away, and then crossed it. After walking some dis- 
tance farther they came upon a small clearing with a log-hut, 
containing apparently three or four rooms, in the centre. 

" We had better skirt round this," Vincent suggested. 

" No," Lucy said in a determined voice. " I have made up 
my mind I would go to the first place we came to and see 
whether anything can be done for you. I can see you are 
in such pain you can hardly walk, and it will be quite impos- 
sible for you to go much further. They are sure to be Con- 
federates at heart here, and even if they will not take us in, 
there is no fear of their betraying us ; at any rate we must risk 

Vincent began to remonstrate, but without paying any attention 
to him the girl left the shelter of the trees and walked straight 
towards the house. The others followed her. Vincent had 
opposed her suggestion, but he had for some time acknowledged 
to himself that he could not go much further. He had been 
trying to think what had best be done, and had concluded 
that it would be safest to arrange with some farmer to board 
Lucy and her nurse for a time, while he himself with Dan 
went a bit farther; and then, if they could get no one to 
take them in, would camp up in the woods and rest. He 
decided that in a day or two if no improvement took place in 
his wound he would give himself up to the Federals at Mount 
Pleasant, as he would there be able to get his wound attended 

" I don't think there is anyone in the house," Lucy said, 
looking back over her shoulder; "there is no smoke coming 
from the chimney, and the shutters are closed, and besides the 
whole place looks neglected." 

Upon reaching the door of the house it was evident that 
it had been deserted. Lucy had now assumed the command. 

"Dan," she said, "there is no shutter to the window of that 


upper room. You must manage to climb up there and get in at 
that window, and then open the door to us." 

"All right, missie, me manage dat," Dan said cheerfully. 
Looking about he soon found a long pole which would answer 
his purpose, placed the end of this against the window, and 
climbed up. It was not more than twelve feet above the 
ground. He broke one of the windows, and inserting his hand 
undid the fastening and climbed in at the window. A minute 
later they heard a grating sound, and then the lock shot back 
under the application of his knife, and the door swung open. 

" That will do nicely," Lucy said, entering. " We will take 
possession. If the owners happen to come back we can pay 
them for the use of the place." 

The furniture had been removed with the exception of a few 
of the heavy articles, and Chloe and Lucy at once set to work, 
and with bunches of long grass swept out one of the rooms. Dan 
cut a quantity of grass and piled it upon an old bedstead that 
stood in the corner, and Lucy smoothed it down. 

"Now, sir," she said peremptorily to Vincent, "you will lie 
down and keep yourself quiet, but first of all I will cut your 
coat ofiP." 

One of the table-knives soon effected the work, and the coat 
was rolled up as a pillow. Dan removed his boots, and Vin- 
cent, who was now beyond even remonstrating, laid himself 
down on his cool bed. 

"Now, Chloe," Miss Kingston said when they had left 
Vincent's room, "I will leave him to your care. I am sure 
that you must be thoroughly tired, for I don't suppose you 
have walked so many miles since you were a girl." 

"I is tired, missie; but I am ready to do anyting you 

" I only want you to attend to him, Chloe. First of all you 
had better make some tea. You know what is a good thing 


to give for a fever, and if you can find anything in the garden 
to make a drink of that sort, do; but I hope he will dose oif 
for some time. When you have done, you had better get this 
place tidy a little; it is in a terrible litter. Evidently no one 
has been in since they moved out." 

The room, indeed, was strewed with litter of all sorts, 
rubbish not worth taking away, old newspapers, and odds and 
ends of every description. Lucy looked about among these 
for some time, and with an exclamation of satisfaction at last 
picked up two crumpled envelopes. They were both addressed 
"William Jenkins, Woodford, near Mount Pleasant." 

" That is just what I wanted," she said. 

" What am you going to do. Miss Lucy 1 " 

" I am going to Mount Pleasant," she said. 

*'Lor a marcy, dearie, you are not going to walk that 
distance! You must have walked twelve miles already." 

" I should if it were twice as far, Chloe. There are some 
things we must get. Don't look alarmed, I shall take Dan 
with me. Now, let me see. In the first place there are lemons 
for making drink and linseed for poultices, some meat for 
making broth, and some flour, and other things for ourselves; 
we may have to stay here for some time. Tell me just what 
you want and I will get it." 

Chloe made out a list of necessaries. 

" I sha'n't be gone long," the girl said. "If he asks after 
me or Dan, make out we are looking about the place to see 
what is useful. Don't let him know I have gone to Mount 
Pleasant, it might worry him." 

Dan at once agreed to accompany the girl to Mount Pleasant 
when he heard that she was going to get things for his master. 
Looking about he found an old basket among the litter, and 
they started without delay by the one road from the clearing, 
which led, they had no doubt, to the town. It was about 


two miles distant, and was really but a large village. A few 
Federal soldiers from the camp hard by were lounging about 
the streets, but these paid no attention to them. Lucy soon 
made her purchases, and then went to the house that had been 
pointed out to her as being inhabited by the doctor who at- 
tended to the needs of the people of Mount Pleasant and the 
surrounding district. Fortunately he was at home. Lucy 
looked at him closely as he entered the room and took his 
seat. He was a middle-aged man with a shrewd face, and she 
at once felt that she might have confidence in it. 

" Doctor," she said, " I want you to come out to see someone 
who is very ill." 

"What is the matter with him? or is it him or her?" 

"It is — it's — " and Lucy hesitated, "a hurt he has got." 

"A wound, I suppose?" the doctor said quietly. "You may 
as well tell me at once, as for me to find out when I get there, 
then I can take whatever is required with me." 

"Yes, sir. It is a wound," Lucy said. "His shoulder is 
broken, I believe, by a pistol bullet." 

" Umph ! " the doctor said. " It might have been worse. Do 
not hesitate to tell me all about it, young lady. I have had a 
vast number of cases on hand since these troubles began. By 
the way, I do not know your face, and I thought I knew every- 
one within fifteen miles around." 

"I come from the other side of the Duck river. But at 
present he is lying at a place called Woodford, but two miles 
from here." 

"Oh, yes! I know it. But I thought it was empty. Let 
me see, a man named Jenkins lived there. He was killed at the 
beginning of the troubles in a fight near Murfreesboro. His widow 
moved in here; and she has married again and gone five miles 
on the other side. I know she was trying to sell the old place." 

" We have not purchased it, sir; we have just squatted there. 


My friend was taken so bad that we could go no further. We 
were trying, doctor, to make our way down south." 

" Your friend, whoever he is, did a very foolish thing to 
bring a young lady like yourself on such a long journey. You 
are not a pair of runaway lovers, are you"?" 

"No, indeed," Lucy said, flushing scarlet; "we have no idea 
of such a thing. I was living alone, and the house was attacked 
by bush-whackers, the band of a villain named Mullens." 

" Oh ! I saw all about that in the Nashville paper this morning. 
They were attacked by a band of Confederate plunderers, it said." 

" They were attacked by one man," the girl replied. " They 
were on the point of murdering me when he arrived. He shot 
Mullens and four of his band and the rest made off", but he got 
this wound. And as I knew the villains would return again 
and burn the house and kill me, I and my old nurse determined 
to go southward to join my friends in Georgia." 

" Well, you can tell me more about it as we go," the doctor 
said. " I will order my buggy round to the door, and drive 
you back. I will take my instruments and things with me. 
It is no business of mine whether a sick man is a Confederate 
or a Federal; all my business is to heal them." 

" Thank you very much, doctor. While the horse is being 
put in I will go down and tell the negro boy with me to go 
straight on with a basket of things I have been buying." 

"Where is he now'?" the doctor asked. 

"I think he is sitting down outside the door, sir." 

"Then you needn't go down," the doctor said. "He can 
jump up behind and go with us. He will get there all the 

In five minutes they were driving down the village, with Dan 
in the back seat. On the way the doctor obtained from Lucy 
a more detailed account of their adventures. 

" So he is one of those Confederate officers who broke prison 


at Elmira," he said. "I saw yesterday that one of his com- 
panions was captured." 

" Was he, sir? How was that?" 

"It seems that he had made his way down to Washington, 
and was staying at one of the hotels there as a Mr. James of 
Baltimore. As he was going through the street he was sud- 
denly attacked by a negro, who assaulted him with such fury 
that he would have killed him had he not been dragged off by 
passers-by. The black would have been very roughly treated, 
but he denounced the man he had attacked as one of the Con- 
federate officers who had escaped from the prison. It seems 
that the negro had been a slave of his who had been barbar- 
ously treated, and finally succeeded in making his escape and 
reaching England, after which he went to Canada; and now 
that it is safe for an escaped slave to live in the Northern 
States without fear of arrest or ill-treatment, he had come 
down to Washington with the intention of engaging as a teem- 
ster with one of the Northern armies, in the hope when he 
made his way to Richmond of being able to gain some news of 
his wiie, whom his master had sold before he ran away from 

"It served the man right!" Lucy said indignantly. "It's a 
good thing that the slaves should turn the tables sometimes 
upon masters who ill-treat them." 

"You don't think my patient would ill-treat his slaves?" the 
doctor asked with a little smile. 

"I am sure he wouldn't," the girl said indignantly. "Why, 
the boy behind you is one of his slaves, and I am sure he would 
give his life for his master." 

Dan had overheard the doctor's story, and now exclaimed : 

" No, sah. Massa Vincent de kindest of masters. If all like 
him, de slaves eberywhere contented and happy. What was de 
name of dat man, sah, you was speaking of?" 


" His name was Jackson," the doctor answered. 

" I tought so," Dan exclaimed in excitement. " Massa never 
mentioned de names ob de two officers who got out wid him, 
and it war too dark for me to see their faces; but dat story 
made me tink it must be him. Bery bad man that; he libs 
close to us, and Massa Vincent one day pretty nigh kill him 
because he beat dat bery man who has catched him now on de 
street of Washington. When dat man sell him wife Massa 
Vincent buy her so as to prevent her falling into bad hands. 
She safe now wid his mother at de Orangery — dat's the name 
of her plantation." 

"My patient must be quite an interesting fellow, young 
lady," the doctor said, with a rather slight t^vinkle of his eye. 
*' A very knight-errant. But there is the house now; we shall 
soon see all about him." 

Taking with him the case of instruments and medicines he 
had brought, the doctor entered Vincent's room. Lucy entered 
first; and although surprised to see a stranger with her, Vincent 
saw by her face that there was no cause for alarm. 

" I have brought you a doctor," she said. " You could not 
go on as you were, you know. So Dan and I have been to 
fetch one." 

The doctor now advanced and took Vincent's hand. 

"Feverish," he said, looking at his cheeks, which were now 
flushed. " You have been doing too much, I fancy. Now let 
us look at this wound of yours. Has your servant got any 
warm water?" he asked Lucy. 

Lucy left the room, and returned in a minute with a kettleful 
of warm water and a basin, which was among the purchases 
she had made at Mount Pleasant. 

" That is right," the doctor said, taking it from her. " Now 
we will cut open the shirt sleeve. I think, young lady, you had 
better leave us, unless you are accustomed to the sight of wounds." 


"I am not accustomed to them, sir; but as thousands of 
women have been nursing the wounded in the hospitals, I 
suppose I can do so now." 

Taking a knife from the case, the doctor cut open the shirt 
from the neck to the elbow. The shoulder was terribly swollen 
and inflamed, and a little exclamation of pain broke from Lucy. 

" That is the effect of walking and inattention," the doctor 
said. "If I could have taken him in hand within an hour of 
his being hit the matter would have been simple enough; but 
I cannot search for the ball, or in fact do anything, till we have 
reduced the swelling. You must put warm poultices on every 
half-hour, and by to-morrow I hope the inflammation will have 
subsided, and I can then see about the ball. It evidently is 
somewhere there still, for there is no sign of its having made 
its exit anywhere. In the meantime you must give him two 
table-spoonfuls of this cooling draught every two hours, and to- 
night give him this sleeping draught. I will be over to-morrow 
morning to see him. Do not be uneasy about him; the wound 
itself is not serious, and when we have got rid of the fever and 
inflammation I have no doubt we shall pull him round before 

"I know the wound is nothing," Vincent said; "I have told 
Miss Kingston so all along. It is nothing at all to one I got 
at the first battle of Bull Run, where I had three ribs badly 
broken by a shell. I was laid up a long time over that business. 
Now I hope in a week I shall be fit to travel." 

The doctor shook his head. "Not as soon as that. Still 
we will hope it may not be long. Now all you have to do is 
to lie quiet and not worry, and to get to sleep as quick as you 
can. You must not let your patient talk. Miss Kingston. It 
will be satisfactory to you, no doubt," he went on, turning to 
Vincent, " to know that there is no fear whatever of your being 
disturbed here. The road leads nowhere, and is entirely out 


of the way of traffic. I should say you might be here six 
months without even a chance of a visitor. Everyone knows 
the house is shut up, and as you have no neighbour within 
half a mile no one is likely to call in. Even if anyone did by 
accident come here you would be in no danger; we are all one 
way of thinking about here." 

"Shall we make some broth for him?" Lucy asked after they 
had left the room. 

"No; he had best take nothing whatever during the next 
twenty-four hours except his medicine and cooling drinks. The 
great thing is to get down the fever. We can soon build him 
up afterwards." 

By nightfall the exertions of Dan, Lucy, and Chloe had made 
the house tidy. Beds of rushes and grass had been made in 
the room upstairs for the women, and Dan had no occasion 
for one for himself, as he was going to stop up with his master. 
He, however, brought a bundle of rushes into the kitchen, and 
when it became dark threw himself down upon them for a few 
hours' sleep, Lucy and her old nurse taking their place in 
Vincent's room, and promising to rouse Dan at twelve o'clock. 

During the early part of the night Vincent was restless and 
uneasy, but towards morning he became more quiet and dosed 
off, and had but just awoke when the doctor drove up at ten 
o'clock. He found the inflammation and swelling so much 
abated that he was able at once to proceed to search for the 
ball. Chloe was his assistant. Lucy felt that her nerves 
would not be equal to it, and Dan's hand shook so that he 
could not hold the basin. In a quarter of an hour, which 
seemed to Lucy to be an age, the doctor came out of the room. 

"There is the bullet, Miss Kingston." 

"And is he much hurt, sir?" 

"It is a nasty wound," the doctor replied. "The collar-bone 
is badly broken, and I fancy the head of the bone of the upper 


arm, to put it in language you will understand, is fractured; 
but of that I cannot be quite sure. I will examine it again 
to-morrow, and will then bandage it in its proper position. At 
present I have only put a bandage round the arm and body to 
prevent movement. I should bathe it occasionally with warm 
water, and you can give him a little weak broth to-day. I 
think, on the whole, he is doing very well. The feeling that 
you are all for the present safe from detection has had as much 
to do with the abatement of the fever as my medicine." 

The next morning the report was still satisfactory. The 
fever had almost disappeared, and Vincent was in good spirits. 
The doctor applied the splints to keep the shoulder up in its 
proper position, and then tightly bandaged it. 

"It depends upon yourself now," he said, "whether your 
shoulders are both of the same width as before or not. If you 
will lie quiet, and give the broken bones time to reunite, I 
think I can promise you that you will be as straight as before; 
but if not — putting aside the chances of inflammation — that 
shoulder will be lower than the other, and you will never get 
your full strength in it again. Quiet and patience are the only 
medicines you require, and as there can be no particular hurry 
for you to get south, and as your company here is pleasant 
and you have two good nurses, there is no excuse for your not 
being quiet and contented." 

"Very well, doctor. I promise that unless there is a risk of 
our being discovered I will be as patient as you can wish. As 
you say, I have everything to make me contented and com- 

The doctor had a chat with Luc}^, and agreed with her that 
perhaps it would be better to inform the mistress of the house 
that there were strangers there. Some of the people living 
along the road might notice him going or coming, or see Dan 
on his way to market, and might come and ascertain that the 

THE doctor's opinion. 237 

house was inhabited, and communicate the fact to their old 

"I will see her myself, Miss Kingston, and tell her that I 
have sent a patient of mine to take up his quarters here. I will 
say he is ready to pay some small sum weekly as long as he 
occupies the house. I have no doubt she would be willing 
enough to let you have it without that; for although I shall 
say nothing actually, I shall let her guess from my manner 
that it is a wounded Confederate, and that will be enough for 
her. Still, I have no doubt that the idea of getting a few 
dollars for the rent of an empty house will add to her patriotism. 
People of her class are generally pretty close-fisted, and she will 
look upon this as a little pocket-money. Good-bye ! I shall 
not call to-morrow, but will be round next day again." 

On his next visit the doctor told Lucy that he had arranged 
the matter with her landlady, and that she was to pay a dollar 
a week as rent. "I should not tell your patient about this," 
he said. "It will look to him as if I considered his stay was 
likely to be a long one, and it might fidget him." 

"How long will it be, doctor, do you think f 

"That I cannot say. If all goes well, he ought in a month 
to be fairly cured; but before starting upon a journey which 
will tax his strength, I should say at least six weeks." 

Ten days later Vincent was up, and able to get about. A 
pile of grass had been heaped up by the door, so that he could 
sit down in the sun and enjoy the air. Lucy was in high 
spirits, and flitted in and out of the house, sometimes helping 
Chloe, at others talking to Vincent. 

"What are you laughing at?" she asked as she came out sud- 
denly on one of these occasions. 

"I was just thinking," he said, "that no stranger who 
dropped in upon us would dream that we were not at home 
here. There is Dan tidying up the garden; Chloe is quite at 


her ease in the kitchen, and you and I might pass very well 
for brother and sister." 

"I don't see any likeness between us — not a bit." 

"No, there is no personal likeness; but I meant in age and 
that sort of thing. I think, altogether we have a very home- 
like look." 

" The illusion would be very quickly dispelled if your stranger 
put his head inside the door. Did anyone ever see such a bare 

"Anyhow, it's very comfortable," Vincent said, "though I 
grant that it would be improved by a little furniture." 

"By a great deal of furniture, you mean. Why, there isn't 
a chair in the house, nor a carpet, nor a curtain, nor a cupboard, 
nor a bed; in fact all there is is the rough dresser in the kitchen 
and that plank table, and your bedstead. I really think that's 
all. Chloe has the kettle and two cooking-pots, and there is 
the dish and six plates we bought." 

"You bought, you mean," Vincent interruptea. 

"We bought, sir; this is a joint expedition. Then, there is 
the basin and a pail. I think that is the total of our be- 

"Well, you see, it shows how little one can be quite comfort- 
able upon," Vincent said. "I wonder how long it will be 
before the doctor gives me leave to move. It is all very well 
for me who am accustomed to campaigning, but it is awfully 
rough for you." 

"Don't you put your impatience down to my account, at any 
rate until you begin to hear me grumble. It is just your own 
restlessness, when you are pretending you are comfortable." 

"I can assure you that I am not restless, and that I am in no 
hurry at all to be oflf on my own account. I am perfectly con- 
tented with everything. I never thought I was lazy before, but 
I feel as if I could do with a great deal of this sort of thing. 


You will see that you will become impatient for a move before 
I do." 

"We shall see, sir. Anyhow, I am glad you have said that, 
because now whatever you may feel you will keep your im- 
patience to yourself." 

Another four weeks passed by smoothly and pleasantly. 
Dan went into the village once a week to do the shopping, and 
the doctor had reduced his visits to the same number. He 
would have come oftener, for his visits to the lonely cottage 
amused him; but he feared that his frequent passage in his 
buggy might attract notice. So far no one else had broken the 
solitude of their lives. If the doctor's calls had been noticed, 
the neighbours had not taken the trouble to see who had 
settled down in Jenkins' old place. His visits were very wel- 
come, for he brought newspapers and books, the former being 
also purchased by Dan whenever he went into the village, and 
thus they learnt the course of events outside. 

Since Antietam nothing had been done in Northern Virginia; 
but Burnside, who had succeeded M'^Clellan, was preparing 
another great army, which was to march to Eichmond and 
crush out the rebellion. Lee was standing on the defensive. 
Along the whole line of the frontier, from New Orleans to 
Tennessee, desultory fighting was going on, and in these con- 
flicts the Confederates had generally the worse of things, having 
there no generals such as Lee, Jackson, and Longstreet, who 
had made the army of Virginia almost invincible. 

At the last of these visits the doctor told Vincent that he 
considered he was nearly sufficiently restored in health to be 
able to start on their journey. 

"It is a much better job than I had expected it would turn 
out. I was almost afraid that your shoulder would never be 
quite square again. However, as you can see for yourself it 
has come out quite right; and although I should not advise 


you to put any great strain on your left arm, I believe that in 
a very short time it will be as strong as the other." 

"And now, doctor, what am I in debt to you? Your kind- 
ness cannot be repaid, but your medical bill I will discharge as 
soon as I get home. We have not more than twenty dollars 
left between us, which is little enough for the journey there is 
before us. You can rely that the instant I get to Richmond 
I will send you the money. There is no great difficulty in 
smuggling letters across the frontier." 

" I am very pleased to have been able to be of service to 
you," the doctor said. "I should not think of accepting pay- 
ment for aid rendered to an officer of our army; but it will 
give me real pleasure to receive a letter saying you have 
reached home in safety. It is a duty to do all we can for the 
brave men fighting for our cause. As I have told you, I am 
not a very hot partisan, for I see faults on both sides. Still, I 
believe in the principle of our forefathers, that each State has 
its own government and is master of its own army, joining with 
the others for such purposes as it may think fit. If I had been 
a fighting man I should certainly have joined the army of my 
State; but as it is, I hope I can do more good by staying and 
giving such aid and comfort as I can to my countrymen. You 
will, I am sure, excuse my saying that I think you must let 
me aid you a little farther. I understand you to say that Miss 
Kingston will go to friends in Georgia, and I suppose you will 
see her safely there. Then you have a considerable journey to 
make to Richmond, and the sum that you possess is utterly 
inadequate for all this. It will give me real pleasure if you 
will accept the loan of 100 dollars, which you can repay when 
you write to me from Richmond. You will need money for 
the sake of your companions rather than your own. When 
you have once crossed the line you will then be able to appear 
in your proper character." 


"Thank you greatly, doctor. I will accept your offer as 
frankly as it is made. I had intended telegraphing for money 
as soon as I was among our own people, but there would be 
delay in receiving it, and it will be much more pleasant to push 
on at once." 

" By the way, you cannot cross at Florence, for I hear that 
Hood has fallen back across the river, the forces advancing 
against him from this side being too strong to be resisted. But 
I think that this is no disadvantage to you, for it would have 
been far more difficult to pass the Federals and get to Florence 
than to make for some point on the river as far as possible 
from the contending armies." 

" We talked that over the last time you were here, doctor, 
and you know we agreed it was better to run the risk of falling 
into the hands of the Yankee troops than into those of one of 
those partisan bands whose exploits are always performed at a 
distance from the army. However, if Hood has retreated across 
the Tennessee there is an end of that plan, and we must take 
some other route. Which do you advise?" 

" The Yankees will be strong all round the great bend of the 
river to the west of Florence and along the line to the east, 
which would, of course, be your direct way. The passage, how- 
ever, is your real difficulty, and I should say that instead of going 
in that direction you had better bear nearly due south. There 
is a road from Mount Pleasant, that strikes into the main road 
from Columbia up to Camden. You can cross the river at that 
point without any question or suspicion, as you would be merely 
travelling to the west of the State. Once across you could 
work directly south, crossing into the State of Mississippi, and 
from there take train through Alabama to Georgia. 

" It seems a roundabout way, but I think you would find it 
far the safest, for there are no armies operating upon that line. 
The population, at any rate as you get south, are for us, and 

( 538 ) Q 


there are, so far as I have heard, very few of these bush- 
whacking bands about either on one side or the other. The 
difficult part of the journey is that up to Camden, but as you 
will be going away from the seat of war instead of towards it 
there will be little risk of being questioned." 

" I had thought of buying a horse and cart," Vincent said. 
" Jogging along a road like that we should attract no attention. 
I gave up the idea because our funds were not sufficient, but, 
thanks to your kindness, we might manage now to pick up 
something of the sort." 

The doctor was silent for a minute. 

" If you will send Dan over to me to-morrow afternoon I will 
see what can be done," he said. " It would certainly be the 
safest plan by far; but I must think it over. You will not 
leave before that, will you?" 

" Certainly not, doctor. In any case we should have stayed 
another day to get a few more things for our journey." 

The next afternoon Dan went over to Mount Pleasant. He 
was away two hours longer than they had expected, and they 
began to feel quite uneasy about him, when the sound of wheels 
was heard, and Dan appeared coming along the road driving a 
cart. Vincent gave a shout of satisfaction, and Lucy and the 
negress ran out from the house in delight. 

" Here am de cart. Me had to go to five miles from de town 
to get him. Dat what took me so long. Here am a letter, sah, 
from the doctor. First-rate man dat. Good man all ober." 

The letter was as follows : — 

" My dear Mr. Wingfield, — I did not see how you would be 
able to buy a cart, and I was sure that you could not obtain 
one with the funds in your possession. As from what you have 
said I knew that you would not in the least mind the expense, 
I have taken the matter upon myself, and have bought from 
your landlady a cart and horse, which will, I think, suit you 


well. I have paid for them a hundred and fifty dollars, which 
you can remit me with the hundred I handed you yesterday. 
Sincerely trusting that you may succeed in carrying out your 
plans in safety, and with kind regards to yourself and Miss 
Kingston, I remain, yours truly, James Spencer." 

"That is a noble fellow," Vincent said, "and I trust, for his 
sake as well as our own, that we shall get safely through. Now, 
Lucy, I think you had better go into the town the first thing 
and buy some clothes of good homely fashion. What with 
the water and the bushes your dress is grievously dilapidated, 
to say the least of it. Dan can go with you and buy a suit for 
me — those fitted for a young farmer. We shall look like a 
young farmer and his sister jogging comfortably along to 
market; we can stop and buy a stock of goods at some farm 
on the way." 

" That will be capital," the girl said. " I have been greatly 
ashamed of my old dress, but knowing we were running so 
short, and that every dollar was of consequence, I made the 
best of it; now that we are in funds we can afi'ord to be 

Lucy started early the next morning for the town, and the 
shopping was satisfactorily accomplished. They returned by 
eleven o'clock. The new purchases were at once donned, and 
half an hour later they set ofi" in the cart, Vincent sitting on the 
side driving, Lucy in the corner facing him on a basket turned 
topsy-turvy, Dan and Chloe on a thick bag of rushes in the 
bottom of the cart. 



[AN on his return with the cart had brought back a 
message from its late owner to say that if she could 
in any way be of use to them she should be glad 
to aid them. Her farm lay on the road they were 
now following, and they determined therefore to stop there. 
As the cart drew up at the door the woman came out. 

" Glad to see you," she said; *' come right in. It's strange 
now you should have been lodging in my house for more than 
six weeks and I should never have set eyes on you before. 
The doctor talked to me a heap about you, but I didn't look 
to see quite such a young couple." 

Lucy coloured hotly and was about to explain that they did 
not stand in the supposed relationship to each other, but Vin- 
cent slightly shook his head. It was not worth while to un- 
deceive the woman, and although they had agreed to pass as 
brother and sister Vincent was determined not to tell an un- 
truth about it unless deceit was absolutely necessary for their 

"And you want to get out of the way without questions 
being asked, I understand f' the woman went on. "There are 
many such about at present. I don't want to ask no questions; 
the war has brought trouble enough on me. Now is there any- 
thing I can do? if so, say it right out." 


"Yes, there is something you can do for us. We want to 
fill up our cart with the sort of stuff you take to market— apples 
and pumpkins, and things of that sort. If we had gone to buy 
them anywhere else there might have been questions asked. 
From what the doctor said you can let us have some." 

" I can do that. The store-room's chuck full; and it was 
only a few days ago I said to David it was time we set about 
getting them off. I will fill your cart, sir; and not overcharge 
you neither. It will save us the trouble of taking it over to 
Columbia or Camden, for there's plenty of garden truck round 
Mount Pleasant, and one cannot get enough to pay for the 
trouble of taking them there." 

The cart was soon filled with apples, pumpkins, and other 
vegetables, and the price put upon them was very moderate. 

"What ought we to ask for these?" Vincent soon inquired. 
" One does not want to be extra cheap or dear." 

The woman informed them of the prices they might expect 
to get for the produce; and they at once started amid many 
warm good wishes from her. 

Before leaving the farm the woman had given them a letter 
to her sister who lived a mile from Camden. 

"It's always awkward stopping at a strange place," she said, 
" and farmers don't often put up at hotels when they drive in 
with garden truck to a town, though they may do so some- 
time; besides it's always nice being with friends. I will just 
write a line to Jane and tell her you have been my tenants 
at Woodford and where you are going, and ask her to take 
you in for the night and give you a note in the morning to 
anyone she or her husband may know a good bit along that 

When they reached the house it was dark, but directly Vin- 
cent showed the note the farmer and his wife heartily bade 
them come in. 


" Your boy can put up the horse at the stable, and you are 
heartily welcome. But the house is pretty full, and we can't 
make you as comfortable as we should wish at night; but still 
we will do our best." 

Vincent and Lucy were soon seated by the fire. Their 
hostess bustled about preparing supper for them, and the 
children, of whom the house seemed full, stared shyly at the 
new-comers. As soon as the meal was over, Chloe's wants 
were attended to, and a hunch of bread and bacon taken out 
by the farmer to Dan in the stables. The children were then 
packed off to bed, and the farmer and his wife joined Vincent 
and Lucy by the fire. 

"As to sleeping," the woman said, "John and I have been 
talking it over, and the best way we can see is that you should 
sleep with me, ma'am, and we will make up a bed on the floor 
here for my husband and yours." 

"Thank you — that will do very nicely; though I don't like 
interfering with your arrangements." 

"Not at all, ma'am, — not at all, it makes a nice change 
having some one come in, especially of late, when there is no 
more pleasure in going about in this country, and people don't 
go out after dark more than they can help. Ah ! it's a bad 
time. My sister says you are going west, but I see you have 
got your cart full of garden truck. How you have raised it 
so soon I don't know; for Liza wrote to me two months since 
as she hadn't been able to sell her place, and it was just a 
wilderness. Are you going to get rid of it at Camden to- 

Vincent had already been assured as to the politics of his 
present host and hostess, and he therefore did not hesitate to 

" The fact is, madam, we are anxious to get along without 
being questioned by any Yankee troops we may fall in with; 

"YOU don't say!" 247 

and we have bought the things you see in the cart from your 
sister, as, going along with a cart full, anyone we met would 
take us for farmers living close by on their road to the next 
market town." 

"Oh, oh! that's it!" the farmer said significantly. "Want 
to get through the lines, eh?" 

Vincent nodded. 

"Didn't I think so!" the farmer said, rubbing his hands. 
" I thought directly my eyes hit upon you that you did not 
look the cut of a granger. Been fighting — eh? and they are 
after you?" 

" I don't think they are after me here," Vincent said. " But 
I have seen a good deal of fighting with Jackson and Stuart; 
and I am just getting over a collar-bone which was smashed 
by a Yankee bullet." 

** You don't say!" the farmer exclaimed. "Well, I should 
have gone out myself if it hadn't been for Jane and the chil- 
dren. But there are such a lot of them that I could not bring 
myself to run the chance of leaving them all on her hands. 
Still, I am with them heart and soul." 

"Your wife's sister told me that you were on the right side," 
Vincent said, " and that I could trust you altogether." 

" Now, if you tell me which road you want to go, I don't 
mind if I get on my horse to-morrow and ride with you a stage, 
and see you put up for the night. I know a heap of people, 
and I am sure to be acquainted with someone whichever road 
you may go. We are pretty near all the right side about here, 
though, as you get further on, there are lots of Northern 
men. Now, what are your ideas as to the roads 1 " 

Vincent told him the route he intended to take. 

" You ought to get through there right enough," the farmer 
said. "There are some Yankee troops moving about to the 
west of the river, but not many of them; and even if you fell 


in with them, with your cargo of stuff they would not suspect 
you. Anyhow, I expect we can get you passed down so as 
always to be among friends. So you fought under Jackson 
and Stuart, did you'? Ah, they have done well in Virginia! 
I only wish we had such men here. What made you take 
those two darkies along with you? I should have thought 
you would have got along better by yourself." 

"We couldn't very well leave them," Vincent said; "the 
boy has been with me all through the wars, and is as true as 
steel. Old Chloe was Lucy's nurse, and would have broken 
her heart had she been left behind." 

•■•They are faithful creatures when they are well treated. 
Mighty few of them have run away all this time from their 
masters, though in the parts the Yankees hold there is nothing 
to prevent their bolting if they have a mind to it. I haven't 
got no niggers myself. I tried them, but they want more 
looking after than they are Tvorth; and I can make a shift 
with my boys to help me, and hiring a hand in busy times to 
work the farm. Now, sir, what do you think of the look-out]" 

The subject of the war fairly started, his host talked until 
midnight, long before which hour Lucy and the farmer's wife 
had gone off to bed. 

" We will start as soon as it is light," the farmer said as he 
and Vincent stretched themselves upon the heap of straw 
covered with blankets that was to serve as their bed, Chloe 
having hours before gone up to share the bed of the negro girl 
who assisted the farmer's wife in her management of the house 
and children. 

"It's best to get through Camden before people are about. 
There are Yankee soldiers at the bridge, but it will be all right 
you driving in, however early, to sell your stuff. Going out 
you ain't likely to meet with Yankees; but as it would look 
queer, you taking your garden truck out of the town, it's just 


as well to be on the road before people are about. Once you 
get five or six miles the other side you might be going to the 
next place to sell your stuff." 

"That is just what I have been thinking," Vincent said, 
"and I agree with you the earlier we get through Camden 
the better." 

Accordingly as soon as daylight appeared the horse was put 
in the cart, the farmer mounting his own animal, and with a 
hearty good-bye from his wife the party started away. The 
Yankee sentinels at each end of the bridge were passed without 
questions, for early as it was the carts were coming in with farm 
produce. As yet the streets of the town were almost deserted, 
and the farmer, who, before starting, had tossed a tarpaulin 
into the back of the cart, said : 

"Now, pull that over all that stuff, and then anyone that 
meets us will think that you are taking out bacon and groceries 
and such like for some store way off." 

This suggestion was carried out, and Camden was soon left 
behind. A few carts were met as they drove along. The 
farmer knew some of the drivers and pulled up to say a few 
words to them. After a twenty -mile drive they stopped at 
another farm, where their friend's introduction ensured them 
as cordial a welcome as that upon the preceding evening. So 
step by step they journeyed on, escorted in almost every case 
by their host of the night before and meeting with no inter- 
ruption. Once they passed a strong body of Federal cavalry, 
but these supposing that the party belonged to the neighbour- 
hood asked no questions; and at last, after eight days' travelling, 
they passed two posts which marked the boundary between 
Tennessee and Alabama. 

For the last two days they had been beyond the point to 
which the Federal troops had penetrated. They now felt that 
all risk was at an end. Another day's journey brought them 


to a railway-station, and they learned that the trains were 
running as usual, although somewhat irregular as to the hours 
at which they came along or as to the time they took upon 
their journey. The contents of the cart had been left at the 
farm at which they stopped the night before, and Vincent had 
now no difficulty in disposing of the horse and cart, as he did 
not stand out for price, but took the first offer made. Two 
hours later a train came along, and the party were soon on 
their way to the East. After many hours' travelling they 
reached Eome, in Georgia, and then proceeded by the southern 
line a few miles to Macon, at which place they alighted and 
hired a conveyance to take them to Antioch, near which place 
Lucy's relatives resided. 

The latter part of the journey by rail had been a silent one. 
Lucy felt none of the pleasure that she had expected at finding 
herself safely through her dangers and upon the point of join- 
ing relations who would be delighted to see her, and she sat 
looking blankly out of the window at the surrounding country. 
At last Vincent, who had been half an hour without speaking, 
said : 

"Are you sorry our journey is just over, Lucy?" 

The girl's lip quivered, but she did not speak for a moment. 
" Of course it is unpleasant saying good-bye when people have 
been together for some time," she said with an effort. 

" I hope it will not be good-bye for long," he said. " I shall 
be back here as soon as this horrible war is over." 

"What for?" the girl asked, .looking round in surprise. 
" You live a long way from here, and you told me you knew 
nobody in these parts." 

"I know you," Vincent said, "and that is quite enough. 
Do you not know that I love you?" 

The girl gave a start of surprise, her cheek flushed, but her 
eyes did not drop as she looked frankly at him. 


" No, Vin," she said after a pause, " I never once thought 
you loved me, never once. You have not been a bit like what 
I thought people were when they felt like that." 

" I hope not, Lucy. I was your protector then, that is to 
say when you were not mine. Your position has been trying 
enough, and I should have been a blackguard if I had made it 
more uncomfortable than it was by showing you that I cared 
for you. I have tried my best to be what people thought me 
— your brother; but now that you are just home and among 
your own people, I think I may speak and tell you how I feel 
towards you and how I have loved you since the moment I first 
saw you. And you, Lucy, do you think you could care for me ?" 

" Not more than I do now, Vin. I love you with all my 
heart. I have been trying so hard to believe that I didn't, 
because I thought you did not care for me that way." 

For some minutes no further word was spoken. Vincent 
was the first to speak : 

" It is horrid to have to sit here in this stiff, unnatural way, 
Lucy, when one is inclined to do something outrageous from 
sheer happiness. These long, open cars, where people can see 
from end to end what everyone is doing, are hateful inventions. 
It is perfectly absurd, when one finds one's self the happiest 
fellow living, that one is obliged to look as demure and solemn 
as if one was in church." 

" Then you should have waited, sir," the girl said. 

" I meant to have waited, Lucy, until I got to your home, 
but directly I felt that there was no longer any harm in my 
speaking, out it came; but it's very hard to have to wait for 
hours perhaps." 

"To wait for what?" Lucy asked demurely. 

" You must wait for explanations until we are alone, Lucy. 
And now I think the train begins to slacken, and it is the next 
station at which we get out." 

252 HOME. 

"I think, Lucy," Vincent said when they approached the 
house of her relatives, "you and Chloe had better get out and 
go in by yourselves and tell your story. Dan and I will go to 
the inn, and I will come round in an hour. If we were to 
walk in together like this it would be next to impossible for 
you to explain how it all came about." 

"I think that would be the best plan. My two aunts are 
the kindest creatures possible, but no doubt they will be be- 
wildered at seeing me so suddenly. I do think it would be 
best to let me have a talk with them and tell them all about it 
before you appear upon the scene." 

"Very well, then, in an hour I will come in." 

When they arrived at the gate, therefore, Vincent helped 
Lucy and Chloe to alight, and then jumping into the buggy 
again told the driver to take him to the inn. 

Having engaged a room and indulged in a thorough wash 
Vincent sallied out into the little town, and was fortunate 
enough to succeed in purchasing a suit of tweed clothes, which, 
although they scarcely fitted him as if they had been made for 
him, were still an immense improvement upon the rough clothes 
in which he had travelled. Eeturning to the hotel he put on 
his new purchases, and then walked to the house of Lucy's 
aunts, which was a quarter of a mile outside the town. 

Lucy had walked up the little path through the garden in 
front of the house, and turning the handle of the door had 
entered unannounced and walked straight into the parlour. 
Two elderly ladies rose with some surprise at the entry of 
a strange visitor. It was three years since she had paid her 
last visit there, and for a moment they did not recognize her. 

"Don't you know me, aunts?" 

"Why, goodness mel" the eldest exclaimed, "if it isn't our 
little Lucy grown into a woman ! My dear child, where have 
you sprung from?" And the two ladies warmly embraced their 


niece, who, as soon as they released her from their arms, burst 
into a fit of crying, and it was some time before she could 
answer the questions showered upon her, 

" It is nothing, aunts," she said at last, wiping her eyes; "but 
I am so glad to be with you again, and I have gone through 
so much, and I am so happy, and it is so nice being with you 
again. Here is Chloe waiting to speak to you, aunts. She has 
come with me all the way." 

The old negress, who had been waiting in the passage, was 
now called in. 

" Why, Chloe, you look no older than when you went away 
from here six years ago," Miss Kingston said. " But however 
did you both get through the lines? We have been terribly 
anxious about you. Your brother was here only a fortnight 
ago, and he and your father were in a great way about you, 
and reproached themselves bitterly that they did not send you 
to us before the troubles began, which certainly would have 
been a wiser step, as I told them. Of course your brother said 
that when they left you to join the army they had no idea that 
matters were going so far, or that the Yankees would drive us 
out of Tennessee, or they would never have dreamt of leaving 
you alone. However, here you are, so now tell me all about it." 

Lucy told the story of the various visits of the Federal bush- 
whackers to the house, and how they had narrowly escaped 
death for refusing to betray the Confederate ofl&cer who had 
come to the house for food. Her recital was frequently inter- 
rupted by exclamations of indignation and pity from her 

" Well, aunts, after that," she went on, " you see it was im- 
possible for me to stop there any longer. No doubt they 
came back again a few hours afterwards and burnt the house, 
and had I been found there I should have been sure to be 
burned in it, so Chloe agreed with me that there was nothing 

254 "OH, that's it, is it?" 

to do but to try and get through the lines and come to you. 
There was no way of my getting my living at Nashville except 
by going out as a help, and there might have been some difficul- 
ties about that." 

"Quite right, my dear. It was clearly the best thing for 
you to come to us — indeed, the only thing. But how in the 
world did you two manage to travel alone all that distance and 
get through the Federal lines?" 

"You see, we were not alone, aunts," Lucy said; "the Con- 
federate officer and his servant were coming through, and of 
course they took care of us. We could never have got through 
alone, and as Chloe was with me we got on very nicely; but 
we have been a long time getting through, for in that fight, 
where he saved my life and killed five of the band, he had his 
shoulder broken by a pistol bullet, and we had to stop in a 
farmhouse near Mount Pleasant, and he was very ill for some 
time, but the doctor who attended him was a true Southerner, 
and so we were quite safe till he was able to move again." 

"And who is this officer, Lucy?" Miss Kingston asked 
rather anxiously. 

" He is a Virginian gentleman, auntie. His mother has large 
estates near Richmond. He was in the cavalry with Stuart, 
and was made prisoner while he was lying wounded and in- 
sensible, at Antietam; and I think, auntie, that — that — " and 
she hesitated — "some day we are going to be married." 

"Oh, that's it, is it?" the old lady said kindly. "Well, I 
can't say anything about that until I see him, Lucy. Now 
tell us the whole story, and then we shall be better able to 
judge about it. I don't think, my dear, that while you were 
travelling under his protection he ought to have talked to you 
about such things." 

"He didn't, auntie; not until we were half a mile from the 
station here. I never thought he cared for me the least bit; 


he was just like a brother to me — just like what Jack would 
have been if he had been bringing me here." 

"That's right, my dear; I am glad to hear it. Now, let us 
hear all about it." 

Lucy told the whole story of her escape and her adventures, 
and when she had finished her aunts nodded to each other. 

"That's all very satisfactory, Lucy. It was a difficult position 
to be placed in, though I don't see how it was to be avoided, 
and the young man really seems to have behaved very well. 
Don't you think so, Ada*?" The younger Miss Kingston agreed, 
and both were prepared to receive Vincent with cordiality 
when he appeared. 

The hour had been considerably exceeded when Vincent 
came to the door. He felt it rather an awkward moment when 
he was ushered into the presence of Lucy's aunts, who could 
scarcely restrain an exclamation of surprise at his youth, for, 
although Lucy had said nothing about his age, they expected 
to meet an older man, the impression being gained from the 
recital of his bravery in attacking single-handed twelve men, 
and by the manner in which he had piloted the party through 
their dangers. 

"We are very glad to see you — my sister Ada and myself," 
Miss Kingston said, shaking hands cordially with their visitor. 
"Lucy has been telling us all about you; but we certainly 
expected from what you had gone through that you were 

"I am two or three years older than she is. Miss Kingston, 
and I have gone through so much in the last three years that 
I feel older than I am. She has told you, I hope, that she has 
been good enough to promise to be my wife some day?" 

"Yes, she has told us that, Mr. Wingfield; and although we 
don't know you personally, we feel sure — my sister Ada and I 
— from what she has told us of your behaviour while you have 


been together that you are an honourable gentleman, and we 
hope and believe that you will make her happy." 

"I will do my best to do so," Vincent said earnestly. "As 
to my circumstances, I shall in another year come into pos- 
session of estates sufficient to keep her in every comfort." 

"I have no doubt that that is all satisfactory, Mr. Wingfield, 
and that her father will give his hearty approval when he 
hears all the circumstances of the case. Now, if you will go 
into the next room, Mr. Wingfield, I will call her down" — for 
Lucy had run upstairs when she heard Vincent knock "I dare 
say you will like a quiet talk together," she added smiling, 
"for she tells me you have never been alone together since 
you started." 

Lucy required several calls before she came down. A new 
shyness such as she had never before felt had seized her, and 
it was with flushed cheeks and timid steps that she at last 
came downstairs, and it needed an encouraging — "Go in, 
you silly child, your lover will not eat you," before she turned 
the handle and went into the room where Vincent was expect- 
ing her. 

Vincent had telegraphed from the first station at which he 
arrived within the limits of the Confederacy to his mother, 
announcing his safe arrival there, and asking her to send 
money to him at Antioch. Her letter in reply reached him 
three days after his arrival. It contained notes for the amount 
he wrote for; and while expressing her own and his sisters' 
delight at hearing he had safely reached the limits of the Con- 
federacy, she expressed not a little surprise at the out-of-the- 
way place to which he had requested the money to be sent. 

"We have been examining the maps, my dear boy," she said, 
"and find that it is seventy or eighty miles out of your direct 
course, and we have puzzled ourselves in vain as to why you 
should have made your way there. The girls guess that you 


have gone there to deliver in person some message from one 
of your late fellow-prisoners to his family. I am not good at 
guessing, and am content to wait until you return home. We 
hope that you will leave as soon as you get the remittance. 
We shall count the hours until we see you. Of course we 
learned from a Yankee paper smuggled through the lines that 
you had escaped from prison, and have been terribly anxious 
about you ever since. We are longing to hear your adven- 

A few hours after the receipt of this letter Vincent was on 
his way home. It was a long journey. The distance was con- 
siderable, and the train service greatly disordered and un- 
punctual. When within a few hours of Richmond he telegraphed, 
giving the approximate time at which he might be expected 
to arrive. The train, however, did not reach Richmond until 
some hours later. The carriage was waiting at the station, 
and the negro coachman shouted with pleasure at the sight of 
his young master. 

"Missis and the young ladies come, sah; but de station- 
master he say de train no arrive for a long time, so dey wait 
for you at de town house, sah." 

Dan jumped up beside the coachman and Vincent leapt into 
the carriage, and a few minutes later he was locked in the arms 
of his mother and sisters. 

"You grow bigger and bigger, Vincent," his mother said 
after the first greeting was over. "I thought you must have 
done when you went away last, but you are two or three 
inches taller and ever so much wider." 

"I think I have nearly done now, mother— anyhow as to 
height. I am about six feet one." 

"You are a dreadful trouble to us, Vincent," Annie said. 
"We have awful anxiety whenever we hear of a battle being 
fought, and it was almost a relief to us when we heard that 

(538) p^ 



you were in a Yankee prison. We thought at least you were 
out of danger for some time; but since th6 news came of your 
escape it has been worse than ever, and as week passed after 
week without our hearing anything of you we began to fear 
that something terrible had happened to you." 

"Nothing terrible has happened at all, Annie. The only 
mishap I had was getting a pistol bullet in my shoulder which 
laid me up for about six weeks. There was nothing very 
dreadful about it," he continued, as exclamations of alarm and 
pity broke from his mother and sister. "I was well looked 
after and nursed. And now I will tell you my most important 
piece of news, and then I will give you a full account of my 
adventures from the time when Dan got me out of prison, for 
it is entirely to him that I owe my liberty." 

"Well, what is the piece of news'?" Annie asked. 

"Guess!" Vincent replied smiling. 

"You have got promoted'?" his mother said He shook his 

"Is it about a ladyf ' Annie asked. 

Vincent smiled. 

"Oh, Vincent, you are not engaged to be married! That 
would be too ridiculous!" Vincent laughed and nodded. 

"Annie is right, mother; I am engaged to be married." 

Mrs. Wingfield looked grave, Eosie laughed, and Annie threw 
her arms round his neck and kissed him. 

"You dear, silly old boy!" she said. "I am glad, though it 
seems so ridiculous. Who is she, and what is she like?" 

"We needn't ask where she lives," Rosie said. "Of course 
it is in Antioch, though how in the world you managed it all 
in the two or three days you were there I can't make out." 

Mrs. Wingfield's brow cleared. "At any rate, in that case, 
Vincent, she is a Southerner. I was afraid at first it was some 
Yankee woman who had perhaps sheltered you on your way." 


"Is she older than you, Vincent?" Annie asked suddenly. 
"I shouldn't like her to be older than you are." 

"She is between sixteen and seventeen," Vincent replied, 
"and she is a Southern girl, mother, and I am sure you will 
love her, for she saved my life at the risk of her own, besides 
nursing me all the time I was ill." 

"I have no doubt I shall love her, Vincent, for I think, my 
boy, that you would not make a rash choice. I think you are 
young, much too young, to be engaged; still, that is a secondary 
matter. Now tell us all about it. We expected your story to 
be exciting, but did not dream that love-making had any share 
in it." 

Vincent accordingly told them the whole story of his adven- 
tures from the time of his first meeting Dan in prison. "When 
he related the episode of Lucy's refusal to say whether he 
would return, although threatened with instant death unless 
she did so, his narrative was broken by the exclamations of his 

"You need not say another word in praise of her," his 
mother said. "She is indeed a noble girl, and I shall be proud 
of such a daughter." 

"She must be a darling!" Annie exclaimed. "Oh, Vincent, 
how brave she must be ! I don't think I ever could have done 
that, with a pistol pointing straight at you, and all those 
dreadful men round, and no hope of a rescue; it's awful even 
to think of." 

"It was an awful moment, as you may imagine," Vincent 
replied. "I shall never forget the scene, or Lucy's steadfast 
face as she faced that man; and you see at that time I was 
a perfect stranger to her — only a fugitive Confederate officer 
whom she shielded from his pursuers." 

"Go on, Vincent; please go on," Annie said. "Tell us 
what happened next." 


Vincent continued his narrative to the end, with, however, 
many interruptions and questions on the part of the girls. His 
mother said little, but sat holding his hand in hers. 

"It has been a wonderful escape, Vincent," she said when he 
had finished. " Bring your Lucy here when you like, and I 
shall be ready to receive her as my daughter, and to love her 
for her oAvn sake as well as yours. She must be not only a 
brave but a noble girl, and you did perfectly right to lose 
not a single day after you had taken her safely home in asking 
her to be your wife. I am glad to think that some day the 
Orangery will have so worthy a mistress. I will write to her 
at once. You have not yet told us what she is like, Vincent." 

"I am not good at descriptions, but you shall see her 
photograph when I get it." 

"What, haven't you got one now]" 

" She had not one to give me. You see, when the troubles 
began she was little more than a child, and since that time 
she has scarcely left home, but she promised to have one taken 
at once and send it me, and then, if it is a good likeness, you 
will know all about it." 

"Mother, when you write to-night," Eosie said, "please send 
her your photograph and ours, and say we all want one of our 
new relative that is to be." 

"I think, my dear, you can leave that until we have ex- 
changed a letter or two. You will see Vincent's copy, and can 
then wait patiently for your own." 

" And now, mother, I have told you all of my news; let us 
hear about everyone here. How are all the old house hands, 
and how is Dinah? Tony is at Washington, I know, because I 
saw in the paper that he had made a sudden attack upon 

Mrs, Wingfield's face fell. 

" That is my one piece of bad news, Vincent. I wish you 


hadn't asked the question until to-morrow, for I am sorry that 
anything should disturb the pleasure of this first meeting; still 
as you have asked the question I must answer it. About ten 
days ago a negro came, as I afterwards heard from Chloe, to 
the back entrance and asked for Dinah. He said he had a 
message for her. She went and spoke to him, and then ran 
back and caught up her child. She said to Chloe, 'I have news 
of my husband. I think he is here. I will soon be back again.' 
Then she ran out, and has never returned. We have made 
every inquiry we could, but we have not liked to advertise for 
her, for it may be that she has met her husband, and that he 
persuaded her to make off at once with him to Yorkto^vn or 
Fortress Munroe." 

" This is bad news indeed, mother," Vincent said. " No, I 
do not think for a moment that she has gone off with Tony. 
There could be no reason why she should have left so suddenly 
without telling anyone, for she knew well enough that you 
would let her go if she wished it; and I feel sure that neither 
she nor Tony would act so ungratefully as to leave us in this 
manner. No, mother, I feel sure that this has been done by 
Jackson. You know I told you I felt uneasy about her before 
I went. No doubt the old rascal has seen in some Northern paper 
an account of his son having been attacked in the streets of 
Washington, and recaptured by Tony, and he has had Dinah 
carried off from a pure spirit of revenge. Well, mother," he 
went on in answer to an appealing look from her, "I will not 
put myself out this first evening of my return, and will say no 
more about it. There will be plenty of time to take the matter 
up to-morrow. And now about all our friends and acquaintances. 
How are they getting on'? Have you heard of any more of my 
old chums being killed since I was taken prisoner at Antie- 

It was late in the evening before Vincent heard all the news 

262 Vincent's indignation. 

Fortunately, the list of casualties in the army of Virginia had 
been slight since Antietam; but that battle had made many 
gaps among the circle of their friends, and of these Vincent 
now heard for the first time, and he learned too, that although 
no battle had been fought since Antietam, on the 17th of Sep- 
tember, there had been a sharp skirmish near Fredericksburg, 
and that the Federal army, now under General Burnside, who 
had succeeded M^'Clellan, was facing that of Lee, near that 
town, and that it was believed that they would attempt to 
cross the Eappahannock in a few days. 

It was not until he retired for the night that Vincent allowed 
his thoughts to turn again to the missing woman. Her loss 
annoyed and vexed him much more than he permitted his 
mother to see. In the first place, the poor girl's eagerness to 
show her gratitude to him upon all occasions, and her untiring 
watchfulness and care during his illness from his wound, had 
touched him, and the thought that she was now probably in the 
hands of brutal taskmasters was a real pain to him. In the 
next place, he had, as it were, given his pledge to Tony that 
she should be well cared for until she could be sent to join 
him. And what should he say now when the negro wrote to 
claim her? Then, too, he felt a personal injury that the 
woman should be carried off when under his mother's protec- 
tion, and he was full of indignation and fury at the dastardly 
revenge taken by Jackson. Upon hearing the news he had 
at once mentally determined to devote himself for some time 
to a search for Dinah; but the news that a great battle 
was expected at the front interfered with his plan. Now 
that he was back, capable of returning to duty, his place 
was clearly with his regiment; but he determined that while 
he would rejoin at once, he would as soon as the battle was 
over, if he were unhurt, take up the search. His mother and 
sisters were greatly distressed when at breakfast he told them 


that he must at once report himself as fit for duty, and ready- 
to join his regiment. 

"I was afraid you would think so," Mrs. Wingfield said, 
while the girls wept silently; "and much as I grieve at losing 
you again directly you have returned, I can say nothing against 
it. You have gone through many dangers, Vincent, and have 
been preserved to us through them all. We will pray that you 
may be so to the end. Still, whether or not, I as a Virginian 
woman cannot grudge my son to the service of my country, 
when all other mothers are making the same sacrifice; but it is 
hard to give you up when but yesterday you returned to us." 



jS soon as breakfast was over Vincent mounted Firefly, 
which had been sent back after he had been taken 
prisoner, and rode into Richmond. There he re- 
ported himself at head-quarters as having returned 
after escaping from a Federal prison, and making his way- 
through the lines of the enemy. 

'^I had my shoulder-bone smashed in a fight with some 
Yankees," he said, "and was laid up in hiding for six weeks; 
but have now fairly recovered. My shoulder, at times, gives 
me considerable pain, and although I am desirous of returning 
to duty and rejoining my regiment until the battle at Fredericks- 
burg has taken place, I must request that three months' leave 
be granted to me after that to return home and complete my 
cure, promising of course to rejoin my regiment at once should 
hostilities break out before the spring." 

"We saw the news that you had escaped," the general said, 
"but feared, as so long a time elapsed without hearing from you, 
that you had been shot in attempting to cross the lines. Your 
request for leave is of course granted, and a note will be made 
of your zeal in thus rejoining on the very day after your 
return. The vacancy in the regiment has been filled up, but 
I will appoint you temporarily to General Stuart's staff, and I 
shall have great pleasure in to-day filling up your commission 


as captain. Now let me hear how you made your escape. By 
the accounts published in the Northern papers it seemed that 
you must have had a confederate outside the walls.** 

Vincent gave a full account of his escape from prison and a 
brief sketch of his subsequent proceedings, saying only that he 
was in the house of some loyal people in Tennessee, when it 
was attacked by a party of Yankee bush-whackers, that these 
were beaten off in the fight, but that he himself had a pistol 
bullet in his shoulder. He then made his way on until com- 
pelled by his wound to lay up for six weeks in a lonely farm- 
house near Mount Pleasant; that afterwards in the disguise of a 
young farmer he had made a long detour across the Tennessee 
river and reached Georgia. 

"When do you leave for the front, Captain Wingfieldl" 

"I shall be ready to start to-night, sir." 

" In that case I will trouble you to come round here this 
evening. There will be a fast train going through with 
ammunition for Lee at ten o'clock, and I shall have a bag of 
despatches for him, which i will trouble you to deliver. You 
will find me here up to the last moment. I will give orders 
that a horse-box be put on to the train." 

After expressing his thanks Vincent took his leave. As he 
left the general's quarters, a young man, just alighting from his 
horse, gave a shout of greeting. 

"Why, Wingfield, it is good to see you! I thought you 
were pining again in a Yankee dungeon, or had got knocked on 
the head crossing the lines. Where have you sprung from, and 
when did you arrive 1 " 

" I only got in yesterday after sundry adventures which I will 
tell you about presently. When did you arrive from the front 1 "' 

"I came down a few days ago on a week's leave on urgent 
family business," the young man laughed, "and I am going 
back again this afternoon by the four o'clock train." 


"Stay till ten," Vincent said, "and we mil go back together. 
There is a special train going through with ammunition, and as 
everything will make way for that it will not be long behind 
the four o'clock, and likely enough may pass it on the way. 
There is a horse-box attached to it, and as I only take one 
horse there will be room for yours." 

"I haven't brought my horse down," Harry Furniss said; 
"but I will certainly go with you by the ten o'clock. Then we 
can have a long talk. I don't think I have seen you since the 
day you asked me to lend you my boat two years ago." 

"Can you spare me two hours now?" Vincent asked. "You 
will do me a very great favour if you will." 

Harry Furniss looked at his watch. "It is eleven o'clock 
now; we have a lot of people to lunch at half-past one, and I 
must be back by then." 

"You can manage that easy enough," Vincent replied; "in 
two hours from the time we leave here you can be at home." 

" I am your man, then, Vincent. Just wait five minutes — I 
have to see some one in here." 

A few minutes later Harry Furniss came out again and 

"Now which way, Vincent? and what is it you want me 

"The way is to Jackson's place at the Cedars, the why I 
will tell you about as we ride." 

Vincent then recounted his feud with the Jacksons, of which, 
up to the date of the purchase of Dinah Morris, his friend 
was aware, having been present at the sale. He now heard of 
the attack upon young Jackson by Tony, and of the disappear- 
ance of Dinah Morris. 

" I should not be at all surprised, Wingfield, if your surmises 
are correct, and that old scoundrel has carried off the girl to 
avenge himself upon Tony. Of course, if you could prove it. 


it would be a very serious offence; for the stealing a slave, and 
by force too, is a crime with a very heavy penalty, and has 
cost men their lives before now. But I don't see that you 
have anything like a positive proof, however strong a case of 
suspicion it may be. I don't see what you are going to say 
when you get there." 

" I am going to tell him that if he does not say what he has 
done with the girl, I will have his son arrested for treachery as 
soon as he sets foot in the Confederacy again." 

"Treachery!" Furniss said in surprise; "what treachery has 
he been guilty of ? I saw that he was one of those who escaped 
with you, and I rather wondered at the time at you two being 
mixed up together in anything. I heard that he had been 
recaptured through some black fellow that had been his slave, 
but I did not read the account. Have you got proof of what 
you say?" 

* Perhaps no proof that would hold in a court of law," 
Vincent replied, "but proof enough to make it an absolute 
certainty to my mind." 

Vincent then gave an account of their escape, and of the 
anonymous denunciation of himself and Dan. 

"Now," he said, "no one but Dan knew of the intended 
escape, no one knew what clothes he had purchased, no one 
could possibly have known that I was to be disguised as a 
preacher and Dan as my servant. Therefore the information 
must have been given by Jackson." 

"I have not the least doubt but that the blackguard did 
give it, Wingfield; but there is no proof." 

"I consider that there is a proof — an absolute and positive 
proof," Vincent asserted, "because no one else could have 
known it." 

"Well, you see that as a matter of fact, the other officer did 
know it, and might possibly have given the information." 


"But why should he? The idea is absurd. He had never 
had a quarrel with me, and he owed his liberty to me." 

" Just so, Wingfield. I am as certain that it was Jackson 
as you are, because I know the circumstances; but you see 
there is no more absolute proof against one man than against 
the other. It is true that you had had a quarrel with Jackson 
some two years before, but you see you had made it up and had 
become friends in prison — so much so that you selected him from 
among a score of others in the same room to be the companion 
of your flight. You and I, who know Jackson, can well believe 
him guilty of an act of gross ingratitude — of ingratitude and 
treachery; but people who do not know would hardly credit 
it as possible that a man could be such a villain. The defence 
he would set up would be that in the iirst place there is no 
shadow of evidence that he more than the other turned traitor. 
In the second place he would be sure to say that such an accu- 
sation against a Confederate officer is too monstrous and pre- 
posterous to be entertained for a moment; and that doubtless 
your negro, although he denies the fact, really chattered about 
his doings to the negroes he was lodging with, and that it was 
through them that someone got to know of the disguise you 
would wear. We know that it wasn't so, Wingfield; but 
ninety-nine out of every hundred white men in the South would 
rather believe that a negro had chattered than that a Con- 
federate officer had been guilty of a gross act of treachery and 

Vincent was silent. He felt that what his companion said 
was the truth; and that a weapon by which he had hoped to 
force the elder Jackson into saying what he had done with 
Dinah would probably fail in its purpose. The old man was 
too astute not to perceive that there was no real proof against 
his son, and would therefore be unlikely at once to admit that 
he had committed a serious crime, and to forego his revenge. 


"I will try at any rate," he said at last; "and if he 
refuses I will publish the story in the papers. When the 
fellow gets back from Yankee-land he may either call me out 
or demand a court of inquiry. I may not succeed in getting a 
verdict from twelve white men, but I think I can convince 
everyone of our own class that the fellow did it; and when 
this battle that is expected is over I have got three months' 
leave, and I will move heaven and earth to find the woman; 
and if I do, Jackson will either have to bolt or to stand a trial, 
with the prospect of ten years' imprisonment if he is convicted. 
In either case we are not likely to have his son about here 
again; and if he did venture back and brought an action 
against me, his chance of getting damages would be a small 

Another half-hour's ride brought them to the Cedars. They 
dismounted at the house, and fastening their horses to the 
portico knocked at the door. It was opened by a negro. 

"Tell your master," Vincent said, "that Mr. Wingfield 
wishes to speak to him." 

Andrew Jackson himself came to the door. 

"To what do I owe the very great pleasure of this visit, 
Mr. Wingfield?" he said grimly. 

" I have come to ask you what you have done with Dinah 
Morris, whom, I have every ground for believing, you have 
caused to be kidnapped from my mother's house." 

" This is a serious charge, young gentleman," Andrew Jack- 
son said, " and one that I shall call upon you to justify in the 
law-courts. Men are not to be charged with criminal actions 
even by young gentlemen of good Virginian families." 

"I shall be quite ready to meet you there, Mr. Jackson, 
whenever you choose; but my visit here is rather to give you 
an opportunity of escaping the consequences that will follow 
your detection as the author of the crime; for I warn you that 


I will bring the crime home to you, whatever it costs me in 
time and money. My offer is this: produce the woman and 
her child, and not only shall no prosecution take place, but I 
will remain silent concerning a fact which afifects the honour of 
your son." 

Andrew Jackson's face had been perfectly unmoved during 
this conversation until he heard the allusion to his son. Then 
his face changed visibly. 

"I know nothing concerning which you can attack the 
honour of my son, Mr. Wingfield," he said with an effort to 
speak as unconcernedly as before. 

" My charge is as follows," Vincent said quietly : — " I was 
imprisoned at Elmira with a number of other oflBcers, among 
them your son. Thinking that it was time for the unpleasant- 
ness that had been existing between us to come to an end, I 
offered him my hand. This he accepted and we became friends. 
A short time afterwards a mode of escape offered itself to me, 
and I proved the sincerity of my feelings towards him by offer 
ing to him and another officer the means of sharing my escape. 
This they accepted. Once outside the walls, I furnished them 
with disguises that had been prepared for them, assuming 
myself that of a minister. We then separated, going in dif- 
ferent directions, I myself being accompanied by my negro 
servant, to whose fidelity I owed our escape. Two days after- 
wards an anonymous writer communicated to the police the 
fact that I had escaped in the disguise of a minister, and was 
accompanied by my black servant. This fact was only known 
to the negro, myself, and the two officers. My negro, who had 
released me, was certainly not my betrayer; the other officer 
could certainly have had no possible motive for betraying me. 
There remains, therefore, only your son, whose hostility to me 
was notorious, and who had expressed himself with bitterness 
against me on many occasions, and among others in the hear- 


ing of my friend Mr. Furniss here. Such being the case, it is 
my intention to charge him before the military authorities 
with this act of treachery. But, as I have said, I am willing 
to forego this and to keep silence as to your conduct with 
reference to my slave Dinah Morris, if you will restore her 
and her child uninjured to the house from which you caused 
her to be taken." 

The sallow cheeks of the old planter had grown a shade 
paler as he listened to Vincent's narrative, but he now burst 
out in angry tones : 

"How dare you, sir, bring such an infamous accusation 
against my son— an accusation, like that against myself, wholly 
unsupported by a shred of evidence? Doubtless your negro 
had confided to some of his associates his plans for assisting 
you to escape from prison, and it is from one of these that the 
denunciation has come. Go, sir, report where you will what lies 
and fables you have invented; but be assured that I and my son 
will seek our compensation for such gross libels in the courts." 
"Very well, sir," Vincent said, as he prepared to mount his 
horse; "if you will take the trouble to look in the papers to- 
morrow, you will see that your threats of action for libel have 
no effect whatever upon me." 

"The man is as hard as a rock, Wingfield," Furniss said, 
as they rode off together. " He wilted a little when you were 
telling your story, but the moment he saw you had no definite 
proofs he was, a^ I expected he would be, ready to defy you. 
What shall you do now?" 

"I shall ride back into Richmond again and give a full 
account of my escape from the jail, and state that I firmly 
beHeve that the information as to my disguise was given by 
Jackson, and that it was the result of a personal hostility which, 
as many young men in Richmond are well aware, has existed 
for some time between us." 


" Well, you must do as you like, AVingfield, but I think it 
will be a risky business." 

"It may be so," Vincent said; "but I have little doubt that 
long before Jackson is exchanged I shall have discovered Dinah, 
and shall prosecute Jackson for theft and kidnapping, in 
which case the young man will hardly venture to prosecute me 
or indeed to show his face in this part of the country." 

That evening the two young officers started for the front, 
and the next morning the Eichmond papers came out with a 
sensational heading, " Alleged Gross Act of Treachery and In- 
gratitude by a Confederate Officer." 

It was the 10th of December when Vincent joined the army 
at Fredericksburg. He reported himself to General Stuart, who 
received him with great cordiality. 

" You are just in time, Wingfield," he said. " I believe that 
in another twenty-four hours the battle will be fought. They 
have for the last two days been moving about in front, and 
apparently want us to believe that they intend to cross some- 
where below the town; but all the news we get from our spies 
is to the effect that these are only feints and that they intend to 
throw a bridge across here. We know, anyhow, they have got 
two trains concealed opposite, near the river. Burnside is likely 
to find it a hard nut to crack. Of course they are superior in 
number to us, as they always are; but as we have always beat 
them well on level ground I do not think their chances of getting 
up these heights are by any means hopeful. Then, too, their 
change of commanders is against them. M*^Clelland fought a 
drawn battle against us at Antietam and showed himself a really 
able general in the operations in front of Eichmond. The army 
have confidence in him, and he is by far the best man they have 
got so far, but the fools at Washington have now for the second 
time displaced him because they are jealous of him. Burnside 
has shown himself a good man in minor commands, but I don't 


think he is equal to command such a vast army as this; and 
besides, we know from our friends at Washington that he has 
protested against this advance across the river, but has been 
overruled. You will see Fredericksburg will add another to 
the long list of our victories." 

Vincent shared a tent with another officer of the same rank 
in General Stuart's staff. They sat chatting till late, and it was 
still dark when they were suddenly aroused by an outbreak of 
musketry down at the river. 

"The general was right," Captain Longmore, Vincent's com- 
panion, exclaimed. "They are evidently throwing a bridge 
across the river, and the fire we hear comes from two regi- 
ments of Mississippians who are posted down in the town 
under Barksdale." 

It was but the work of a minute to throw on their clothes 
and hurry out. The night was dark and a heavy fog hung 
over the river. A perfect roar of musketry came up from the 
valley. Drums and bugles were sounding all along the crest. 
At the same moment they issued out General Stuart came out 
from his tent, which was close by. 

"Is that you, Longmore? Jump on your horse and ride 
down to the town. Bring back news of what is going 

A few minutes later an officer rode up. Some wood had been 
thrown on the fire, and by its light Vincent recognized Stone- 
wall Jackson. 

"Have you any news for us?" he asked. 

"Not yet, I have sent an officer down to inquire. The 
enemy have been trying to bridge the river." 

" I suppose so," Jackson replied. " I have ordered one of my 
brigades to come to the head of the bank as soon as they can 
be formed up, to help Barksdale if need be, but I don't want to 
take them down into the town. It is commanded by all the 

( 538 ) S 


hills on the opposite side, and we know they have brought up 
also all their artillery there." 

In a few minutes Captain Longmore returned. 

" The enemy have thrown two pontoon bridges across, one 
above and one below the old railway bridge. The Mississippians 
have driven them back once, but they are pushing on the work 
and will soon get it finished; but General Barksdale bids me 
report that with the force at his command he can repulse any 
attempt to cross." 

The light was now breaking in the east, but the roar of 
musketry continued under the canopy of fog. General Lee, 
Longstreet, and others had now arrived upon the spot, and 
Vincent was surprised that no orders were issued for troops to 
reinforce those under General Barksdale. Presently the sun 
rose, and as it gained in power the fog slowly lifted, and it was 
seen that the two pontoon bridges were comi3lete; but the fire 
of the Mississippians was so heavy that although the enemy 
several times attempted to cross they recoiled before it. Sud- 
denly a gun was fired from the opposite height, and at the 
signal more than a hundred pieces of artillery opened fire upon 
the town. Many of the inhabitants had left as soon as the 
musketry fire began, but the slopes behind it soon presented a 
sad spectacle. Men, women, and children poured out from the 
town, bewildered with the din and terrified by the storm of shot 
and shell that crashed into it. Higher and higher the crowd 
of fugitives made their way until they reached the crest ; among 
them were weeping women and crying children, many of them 
in the scantiest attire and carrjdng such articles of dress and 
valuables as they had caught up when startled by the terrible 
rain of missiles. In a very few minutes smoke began to rise 
over the town, followed by tongues of flame, and in half an 
hour the place was on fire in a score of places. 

All day the bombardment went on without cessation and 


Fredericksburg crumbled into ruins. Still, in spite of this 
terrible fire the Mississippians clung to the burning town amid 
crashing walls, falling chimneys, and shells exploding in every 
direction. As night fell the enemy poured across the bridges, 
and Barksdale, contesting every foot of ground, fell back 
through the burning city and took up a position behind a stone 
wall in its rear. 

Throughout the day not a single shot had been fired by 
the Confederate artillery, which was very inferior in power to 
that of the enemy. As General Lee had no wish finally to 
hinder the passage of the Federals, the stubborn resistance of 
Barksdale's force being only intended to give him time to 
concentrate all his army as soon as he knew for certain the 
point at which the enemy was going to cross; and he did not 
wish, therefore, to risk the destruction of any of his batteries 
by calling down the Federal fire upon them. 

During the day the troops were all brought up into position. 
Longstreet was on the left and Jackson on the right, while the 
guns, forty-seven in number, were in readiness to take up their 
post in the morning on the slopes in front of them. On the 
extreme right General Stuart was posted with his cavalry and 
horse artillery. The night passed quietly and by daybreak the 
troops were all drawn up in their positions. 

As soon as the sun rose it was seen that during the night the 
enemy had thrown more bridges across and that the greater 
portion of the army was already over. They were, indeed, 
already in movement against the Confederate position, their 
attack being directed towards the portion of the line held by 
Jackson's division. General Stuart gave orders to Major Pel- 
ham, who commanded his horse artillery, and who immediately 
brought up the guns and began the battle by opening fire on 
the flank of the enemy. The guns of the Northern batteries 
at once replied, and for some hours the artillery duel continued. 


the Federal guns doing heavy execution. For a time attacks 
were threatened from various points, but about ten o'clock, 
when the fog lifted, a mass of some 55,000 troops advanced 
against Jackson. They were suffered to come within 800 yards 
before a gun was fired, and then fourteen guns opened upon 
them with such effect that they fell back in confusion. 

At one o'clock another attempt was made, covered by a 
tremendous fire of artillery. For a time the columns of attack 
were kept at bay by the fire of the Confederate batteries, but 
they advanced with great resolution, pushed their way through 
Jackson's first line, and forced them to fall back. Jackson 
brought up his second line and drove the enemy back with 
great slaughter until his advance was checked by the fire of the 
Northern artillery. 

All day the fight went on, the Federals attempting to crush 
the Confederate artillery by the weight of their fire in order 
that their infantry columns might again advance. But although 
outnumbered by more than two to one the Confederate guns 
were worked with great resolution, and the day passed and 
darkness began to fall without their retiring from the positions 
they had taken up. Just at sunset General Stuart ordered all 
the batteries on the right to advance. This they did and 
opened their fire on the Northern infantry with such effect 
that these fell back to the position near the town that they 
had occupied in the morning. 

On the left an equally terrible battle had raged all day, but 
here the Northern troops were compelled to cross open ground 
between the town and the base of the hill, and suffered so 
terribly from the fire that they never succeeded in reaching the 
Confederate front. Throughout the day the Confederates held 
their position with such ease that General Lee considered the 
affair as nothing more than a demonstration of force to feel his 
position, and expected an even sterner battle on the following 


day. Jackson's first and second lines, composed of less than 
15,000 men, had repulsed without difficulty the divisions of 
Franklin and Hooker, 55,000 strong; while Longstreet with 
about the same force had never been really pressed by the 
enemy, although on that side they had a force of over 50,000 

In the morning the Northern army was seen drawn up in 
battle array as if to advance for fresh assault, but no move- 
ment was made. General Burn side was in favour of a fresh 
attack, but the generals commanding the various divisions felt 
that their troops, after the repulse the day before, were not 
equal to the work, and were unanimously of opinion that a 
second assault should not be attempted. After remaining for 
some hours in order of battle they fell back into the town and 
two days later the whole army recrossed the Rappahannock 
river. The loss of the Confederates was 1800 men, who were 
for the most part killed or wounded by the enemy's artillery, 
while the Federal loss was no less than 13,771. General 
Burnside soon afterwards resigned his command, and General 
Hooker, an officer of the same politics as the president and his 
advisers, was appointed to succeed him. 

The cavalry had not been called upon to act during the day, 
and Vincent's duties were confined to carrying orders to the 
commanders of the various batteries of artillery posted in that 
part of the field, as these had all been placed under General 
Stuart's orders. He had many narrow escapes by shot and 
fragments of shells, but passed through the day uninjured. 

General Lee has been blamed for not taking advantage of 
his victory and falling upon the Federals on the morning after 
the battle; but although such an assault might possibly have 
been successful he was conscious of his immense inferiority 
in force, and his troops would have been compelled to have 
advanced to the attack across ground completely swept by the 


fire of the magnificently served Northern artillery posted upon 
their commanding heights. He was moreover ignorant of the 
full extent of the loss he had inflicted upon the enemy, and 
expected a renewed attack by them. He was therefore, doubt- 
less, unwilling to risk the results of the victory he had gained 
and of the victory he expected to gain should the enemy 
renew their attack, by a movement which might not be success- 
ful, and which would at any rate have cost him a tremendous 
loss of men, and men were already becoming scarce in the Con- 

As soon as the enemy had fallen back across the river and it 
was certain that there was little chance of another forward 
movement on their part for a considerable time, Vincent showed 
to General Stuart the permit he had received to return home 
until the spring on leave, and at once received the general's 
permission to retire from the staff for a time. 

He had not been accompanied by Dan on his railway journey 
to the front, having left him behind with instructions to 
endeavour by every means to find some clue as to the direction 
in which Dinah had been carried off. He telegraphed on his 
way home the news of his coming, and found Dan at the 
station waiting for him. 

"Well, Dan, have you obtained any news'?" he asked as soon 
as his horse had been moved from its box, and he had mounted 
and at a foot-pace left the station, with Dan walking beside 

"No, sah; I hab done my best, but I cannot find out any- 
ting. The niggers at Jackson's all say dat no strangers hab 
been there wid de old man for a long time before de day dat 
Dinah was carried off. I have been over dar, massa, and hab 
talked wid the hands at de house. Dey all say dat no one been 
dere for a month. Me sure dat dey no tell a lie about it, 
because dey all hate Massa Jackson like pison. Den de 

NO NEWS. 279 

lawyer, he am put de advertisement you told him in the papers : 
Five hundred dollars to whoever would give information about 
de carrying off of a female slave from Missy Wingfield, or dat 
would lead to de discovery of her hiding-place. But no answer 
come. Me heard Missy Wingfield say so last night." 

"That's bad, Dan; but I hardly expected anything better. 
I felt sure the old fox would have taken every precaution, 
knowing what a serious business it would be for him if it were 
found out. Now I am back I will take the matter up myself, 
and we will see what we can do. I wish I could have set about 
it the day after she was carried away. It is more than a 
fortnight ago now, and that will make it much more difficult 
than it would have been had it been begun at once." 

"Well, Vincent, so you have come back to us undamaged 
this time," his mother said after the first greeting. "We were 
very anxious when the news came that a great battle had been 
fought last Friday; but when we heard the next morning the 
enemy had been repulsed so easily we were not so anxious, 
although it was not until this morning that the list of killed 
and wounded was published, and our minds set at rest." 

"No, mother; it was a tremendous artillery battle, but it 
was a little more than that — at least on our side. But I have 
never heard anything at all like it from sunrise to sunset. But, 
after all, an artillery fire is more frightening than dangerous, 
except at comparatively close quarters. The enemy must have 
fired at least fifty shots for every man that was hit. I counted 
several times, and there were fully a hundred shots a minute, 
and I don't think it lessened much the whole day. I should 
think they must have fired two or three hundred rounds at 
least from each gun. The roar was incessant, and what with 
the din they made, and the replies of our own artillery, and the 
bursting of shells, and the rattle of musketry, the din at times 
was almost bewildering. Firefly was hit with a piece of shell. 


but fortunately it was not a very large one, and he is not much 
the worse for it, but the shock knocked him off his legs; of 
course I went down with him, and thought for a moment I had 
been hit myself. No; it was by far the most hollow affair we 
have had. The enemy fought obstinately enough, but without 
the slightest spirit or dash, and only once did they get up any- 
where near our line, and then they went back a good deal 
quicker than they came." 

"And now you are going to be with us for three months, 

"I hope so, mother; at least if they do not advance again. I 
shall be here off and on. I mean to find Dinah Morris if it is 
possible, and if I can obtain the slightest clue I shall follow it 
up and go wherever it may lead me." 

"Well, we will spare you for that, Vincent. As you know, 
I did not like your mixing yourself up in that business two 
years ago, but it is altogether different now. The woman was 
very willing and well conducted, and I had got to be really 
fond of her. But putting that aside, it is intolerable that such 
a piece of insolence as the stealing of one of our slaves should 
go unpunished. Therefore if you do find any clue to the affair 
we will not grumble at your following it up, even if it does take 
you away from home for a short time. By the by, we had 
letters this morning from a certain young lady in Georgia in- 
closing her photograph, and I rather fancy there is one for you 

"Where is it, mother?" Vincent asked, jumping from his 

"Let me think," Mrs. Wingfield replied. "Did either of you 
girls put it away, or where can it have been stowed?" The 
girls both laughed. 

"Now, Vincent, what offer do you make for the letter? 
Well, we won't tease you," Annie went on as Vincent gave an 

"HERE IT is!" 281 

impatient exclamation. "Another time we might do so, but as 
you have just come safely back to us I don't think it will be 
fair, especially as this is the very first letter. Here it is!" and 
she took out of the work-box before her the missive Vincent 
was so eager to receive. 




Y the by, Vincent," Mrs. Wingfield remarked next 
morning at breakfast, "I have parted with Pearson." 
*'I am glad to hear it, mother. What! did you 
discover at last that he was a scamp*}" 
"Several things that occurred shook my confidence in him, 
Vincent. The accounts were not at all satisfactory, and it 
happened quite accidentally that when I was talking one day 
with Mr. Robertson, who, as you know, is a great speculator 
in tobacco, I said that I should grow no more tobacco, as it 
really fetched nothing. He replied that it would be a pity to 
give it up, for so little was now cultivated that the price was 
rising, and the Orangery tobacco always fetched top prices; 
'I think the price I paid for your crop this year must at any 
rate have paid for the labour — that is to say, paid for the keep 
of the slaves and something over.' He then mentioned the 
price he had given, which was certainly a good deal higher 
than I had imagined. I looked to my accounts next morning, 
and found that Pearson had only credited me with one-third of 
the amount he must have received, so I at once dismissed him. 
Indeed, I had been thinking of doing so some little time before, 
for money is so scarce and the price of produce so low that I 
felt I could not afford to pay as much as I have been giving 


"I am afraid I have been drawing rather heavily, mother," 
Vincent put in. 

"I have plenty of money, Vincent. Since your father's death 
we have had much less company than before, and I have not 
spent my income. Besides, I have a considerable sum invested 
in house property and other securities. But I have, of course, 
since the war began been subscribing towards the expenses of 
the war — for the support of hospitals and so on. I thought at 
a time like this I ought to keep my expenses down at the 
lowest point, and to give the balance of my income to the 

"How did Jonas take his dismissal, mother'?" 

"Not very pleasantly," Mrs. Wingfield replied; "especially 
when I told him that I had discovered he was robbing me. 
However, he knew better than to say much, for he has not 
been in good odour about here for some time. After the 
fighting near here there were reports that he had been in com- 
munication with the Yankees. He spoke to me about it at the 
time; but as it was a mere matter of rumour, originating, no 
doubt, from the fact that he was a Northern man by birth, I 
paid no attention to them." 

"It is likely enough to be true," Vincent said. "I always 
distrusted the vehemence with which he took the Confederate 
side. How long ago did this happen 1" 

"It is about a month since I dismissed him." 

"So lately as that! Then I should not be at all surprised if 
he had some hand in carrying off Dinah. I know he was in 
communication with Jackson, for I once saw them together in 
the street, and I fancied at the time that it was through him 
that Jackson learnt that Dinah was here. It is an additional 
clue to inquire into, anyhow. Do you know what has become 
of him since he left you]" 

"No; I have heard nothing at all about him, Vincent, from 


the day I gave him a cheque for his pay in this room. Farrell, 
who was under him, is now in charge of the Orangery. He 
may possibly know something of his movements." 

"I think Farrell is an honest fellow," Vincent said. "He 
was always about doing his work quietly; never bullying or 
shouting at the hands, and yet seeing that they did their work 
properly. I will ride out and see him at once." 

As soon as breakfast was over Vincent started, and found 
Farrell in the fields with the hands. 

"I am glad to see you back, sir," the man said heartily. 

"Thank you, Farrell. I am glad to be back, and I am glad 
to find you in Pearson's place. I never liked the fellow, and 
never trusted him." 

"I did not like him myself, sir, though we always got on 
well enough together. He knew his work, and got as much 
out of the hands as anyone could do; but I did not like his 
way with them. They hated him." 

"Have you any idea where he went when he left here?" 

"No, sir; he did not come back after he got his dismissal. 
He sent a man in a buggy with a note to me, asking me to 
send all his things over to Eichmond. I expect he was afraid 
the news might get here as soon as he did, and that the hands 
would give him an unpleasant reception, as indeed I expect 
they would have done." 

"You don't know whether he has any friends anywhere in 
the Confederacy to whom he would be likely to go?" 

"I don't know about friends, sir; but I know he has told me 
he was overseer, or partner, or something of that sort, in a 
small station down in the swamps of South Carolina. I should 
think, from things he has let drop, that the slaves must have 
had a bad time of it. I rather fancy he made the place too 
hot for him, and had to leave; but that was only my impression." 

"In that case he may possibly have made his way back 

barker's hotel. 285 

there," Vincent said. ''I have particular reasons for wishing 
to find out. You don't know anything about the name of the 
place 1" The man shook his head. 

"He never mentioned the name in my hearing." 

"Well, I must try to find out, but I don't quite see how to 
set about it," Vincent said. "By the way, do you know where 
his clothes were sent to?" 

"Yes; the man said that he was to take them to Barker's 
Hotel. It's a second-rate hotel not far from the railway-station." 

"Thank you. That will help me. I know the house. It was 
formerly used by Northern drummers and people of that sort." 

After riding back to Eichmond and putting up his horse, 
Vincent went to the hotel there. Although but a secondary 
hotel it was well filled, for people from all parts of the Con- 
federacy resorted to Eichmond, and however much trade 
suffered, the hotels of the town did a good business. He first 
went up to the clerk in a little office at the entrance. 

"You had a man named Pearson," he said, "staying here 
about a month ago. Will you be good enough to tell me on 
what day he left?" 

"The clerk turned to the register, and said, after a minute's 
examination : 

"He came on the 14th of November, and he left on the 

This was two days after the date on which Dinah had been 
carried off. 

In American hotels the halls are large and provided with 
seats, and are generally used as smoking and reading rooms by 
the male visitors to the hotel. At Harker's Hotel there was a 
small bar at the end of the hall, and a black waiter supplied 
the wants of the guests seated at the various little tables. 
Vincent seated himself at one of these and ordered something 
to drink. As the negro placed it on the table he said : 


"I will give you a dollar if you will answer a few questions." 

" Very good, sah. Dat am a mighty easy way to earn dollar." 

"Do you remember, about a month ago, a man named 
Pearson being here?" 

The negro shook his head. 

" Me not know de names of de gentlemen, sah. What was 
de man like?" 

" He was tall and thin, with short hair and a gray goatee — 
a resfular Yankee." 

"Me remember him, sah. Dar used to be plenty ob dat sort 
here. Don't see dem much now. Me remember de man, sah, 
quite well. Used to pass most of de day here. Didn't seem 
to have nuffin to do." 

" Was he always alone, or did he have many people here to 
see him?" 

" Once dar war two men here wid him, sah, sitting at dat 
table ober in de corner. Eough-looking fellows dey war. In 
old times people like dat wouldn't come to a 'spectable hotel, 
but now most eberryone got rough clothes, can't get no others, 
so one don't tink nuffin about it; but dose fellows was rough- 
looking besides dar clothes. Didn't like dar looks nohow. 
Dey only came here once. Dey was de only strangers that 
came to see him. But once Massa Jackson — me know him by 
sight — he came here and talk wid him for a long time. 
Earnest sort of talk dat seemed to be. Dey talk in low voice, 
and I noticed dey stopped talking when anyone sat down near 

"You don't know where he went to from here, I suppose?" 

"No, sah, dat not my compartment. Perhaps de outside 
porter will know. Like enough he take his tings in hand- truck 
to station. You like to see him, sah?" 

"Yes, I should like to have a minute's talk with him. Here 
is your dollar." 


The waiter rang a bell, and a minute later the outdoor porter 
presented himself. 

"You recomember taking some tings to station for a tall man 
wid gray goatee, Pomp?" the waiter asked. "It was more 
dan tree weeks ago. I tink he went before it was light in de 
morning. Me seem to remember dat." 

The negro nodded. 

" Me remember him berry well, sah. Tree heavy boxes and 
one bag, and he only give me quarter dollar for taking dem to 
de station. Mighty mean man dat." 

"Do you know what train he went hjl" 

"Yes, sah, it was de six o'clock train for de Souf." 

"You can't find out where his luggage was checked for?" 

" I can go down to station, sah, and see if I can find out. 
Some of de men thar may remember." 

" Here is a dollar for yourself," Vincent said, " and another 
to give to any of the men who can give you the news. When 
you have found out come and tell me. Here is my card and 

" Bery well, sah. Next time me go up to station me find 
about it, for sure, if anyone remember dat fellow." 

In the evening the negro called at the house and told Vin- 
cent that he had ascertained that a man answering to his de- 
scription and having luggage similar to that of Pearson had 
had it checked to Florence in South Carolina. 

Vincent now called Dan into his counsel and told him what 
he had discovered. The young negro had already given proof 
of such intelligence that he felt sure his opinion would be of 

"Dat all bery plain, sah," Dan said when Vincent finished 
his story. " Me no doubt dat old rascal Jackson give money to 
Pearson to carry off de gal. Ob course he did it just to take 
revenge upon Tony. Pearson he go into de plot, because, in 


de fust place, it vex Missy Wingfield and you bery much ; in 
de second place, because Jackson gib him money; in de third 
place, because he get hold of negro slave worf a thousand 
dollar. Dat all quite clear. He not do it himself, but arrange 
wid oder fellows, and he top quiet at de hotel for two days 
after she gone so dat no one can 'spect his having hand in de 

" That is just how I make it out, Dan; and now he has gone 
off to join them." 

Dan thought for some time. 

"Perhaps dey join him thar, sah, perhaps not; perhaps him 
send him baggage on there and get out somewhere on de road 
and meet them." 

" That is likely enough, Dan. No doubt Dinah was taken 
away in a cart or buggy. As she left two days before he did, 
they may have gone from forty to sixty miles along the road, 
to some place where he may have joined them. The men who 
carried her off may either have come back or gone on with him. 
If they wanted to go south they would go on ; if they did not, 
he would probably have only hired them to carry her off and 
hand her over to him when he overtook them. I will look at 
the time-table and see where that train stops. It is a fast 
train, I see," he said, after consulting it; "it stops at Peters- 
burg, fifteen miles on, and at Hicks Ford, which is about fifty 
miles. I should think the second place was most likely, as the 
cart could easily have got there in two days. Now, Dan, you 
had better start to-morrow morning, and spend two days there 
if necessary; find out if you can if on the twentieth of 
last month anyone noticed a vehicle of any kind, with two 
rough men in it, and with, perhaps, a negro woman. She 
might not have been noticed, for she may have been lying 
tied up in the bottom of the cart, although it is more likely 
they frightened her by threats into sitting up quiet with them. 


They are sure not to have stopped at any decent hotel, but will 
have gone to some small place, probably just outside the town. 

" I will go with you to Mr. Eenfrew the first thing in the 
morning and get him to draw up a paper testifying that you 
are engaged in lawful business, and are making inquiries with 
a view to discovering a crime which has been committed, and 
recommending you to the assistance of the police in any town 
you may go to. Then if you go with that to the head constable 
at Hicks Ford he will tell you which are the places at which 
such fellows as these would have been likely to put up for the 
night, and perhaps send a policeman with you to make in- 
quiries. If you get any news telegraph to me at once. I will 
start by the six o'clock train on the following morning. Do 
you be on the platform to meet me, and we can then either 
go straight on to Florence, or, should there be any occasion, 
I will get out there; but I don't think that is likely. Pearson 
himself will, to a certainty, sooner or later, go to Florence to 
get his luggage, and the only real advantage we shall get if 
your inquiries are successful will be to find out for certain 
whether he is concerned in the affair. We shall then only 
have to follow his traces from Florence." 

Two days later Mr. Eenfrew received a telegram from the 
head constable at Hicks Ford : " The two men with cart spent 
day here, 20th ult. Were joined that morning by another 
man — negro says Pearson. One man returned afternoon, Eich- 
mond. Pearson and the other drove off in buggy. A young 
negress and child were with them. Is there anything I can do ?" 

Mr. Eenfrew telegraphed back to request that the men, who 
were kidnapping the female slave, should if possible be traced 
and the direction they took ascertained. He then sent the 
message across to Vincent, who at once went to his office. 

" Now," the lawyer said, " you must do nothing rashly in 
this business, Vincent. They are at the best of times a pretty 

(538) T 


rough lot at the edge of these Carolina swamps, and at present 
things are likely to be worse than usual. If you were to go 
alone on such an errand you would almost certainly be shot. 
In the first place, these fellows would not give up a valuable 
slave without a struggle; and in the next place, they have 
committed a very serious crime. Therefore it is absolutely 
necessary that you should go armed with legal powers and 
backed by the force of the law. In the first place, I will draw 
up an affidavit and sign it myself, to the effect that a female 
slave, the property of Vincent Wingfield, has, with her male 
child, been kidnapped and stolen by Jonas Pearson and others 
acting in association with him, and that we have reason to 
know that she has been conveyed into South Carolina. 
This I will get witnessed by a justice of the peace, and will 
then take it up to Government House. There I will get the 
usual official request to the governor of South Carolina to issue 
orders that the aid of the law shall be given to you in re- 
coverinsf the said Dinah Morris and her child, and arrestinsj 
her abductors. You will obtain an order to this effect from 
the governor, and armed with it you will, as soon as you have 
discovered where the woman is, call upon the sheriff of the 
county to aid you in recovering her, and in arresting Pearson 
and his associates," 

"Thank you, sir. That will certainly be the best way. I 
run plenty of risk in doing my duty as an oflScer of the State, 
and I have no desire whatever to throw my life away at the 
hands of ruffians such as Pearson and his allies." 

Two hours later Vincent received from Mr. Eenfrew the 
official letter to the governor of South Carolina, and at six 
o'clock next morning started for Florence. On the platform of 
the station at Hicks Ford Dan was waiting for him. 

"Jump into the car at the end, Dan; I will come to you 
there, and you can tell me all the news. We are going straight 


on to Columbia. Xow, Dan," Vincent went on when he joined 
him — for in no part of the United States were negroes allowed 
to travel in any but the cars set apart for them — "what is 
your news ? The chief constable telegraphed that they had, as 
we expected, been joined by Pearson here." 

"Yes, sah, dey w^ar here for sure. When I get here I go 
straight to de constable and tell him dat I was in search of two 
men who had kidnapped Captain Wingfield's slave. De head 
constable he Eichmond man, and ob course knew all about de 
family; so he take de matter up at once and send constable wid 
me to seberal places whar it likely dat the fellows had put up, 
but we couldn't find nuffin about dem. Den next morning we 
go out again to village four mile out of de town on de north 
road, and dere we found sure 'nough dat two men, wid 
negro wench and chile, had stopped dere. She seem bery 
unhappy and cry all de time. De men say dey bought her at 
Eichmond, and show de constable of de village de paper dat 
dey had bought female slabe Sally Moore and her chile. De 
constable speak to woman, but she seem frightened out of her 
life and no say anything. Dey drive off wid her early in de 
morning. Den we make inquiries again at de town and at 
de station. We find dat a man like Pearson get out. He had 
only little hand-bag with him. He ask one of de men at de 
station which was de way to de norf road. Den we find dat 
one of de constables hab seen a horse and cart wid two men 
in it, with negro woman and child. One of de men look like 
Yankee — dat what make him cake notice of it. We s'pose 
dat oder man went back to Ei( imond again." 

" That is all right, Dan, and you have done capitally. Now 
at Florence we will take up the hunt. It is a long way down 
there; and if they drive all the way, as I hope they will, it 
will take them a fortnight, so that we shall have gained a good 
deal of time on them. The people at the station are sure to 


remember the three boxes that lay there for so long without 
being claimed. Of course they may have driven only till they 
got fairly out of reach. Then they may either have sold the 
horse and trap, or the fellow Pearson has with him may have 
driven it back. But I should think they would most likely 
sell it. In that case they would not be more than a week 
from the time they left Kichmond to the time they took train 
again for the south. However, whether they have got a fort- 
nisfht or three weeks' start of us will not make much difference. 


With the description we can give of Pearson, and the fact that 
there was a negress and child, and those three boxes, we ought 
to be able to trace him." 

It was twelve at night when the train arrived at Florence. 
As nothing could be done until next morning Vincent went to 
an hotel. As soon as the railway officials were likely to be at 
their offices he was at the station again. The tip of a dollar 
secured the attention of the man in the baggage-roouL 

"Three boxes and a black bag came on here a month ago, 
you say, and lay here certainly four or five days — perhaps a 
good deal longer. Of course I remember them. Stood up in 
that corner there. They had been checked right through. I 
will look at the books and see what day they went. I don't 
remember what sort of men fetched them away. Maybe I was 
busy at the time, and my mate gave them out. However, I 
will look first and see when they went. What day do you say 
they got here]" 

" They came by the train tl it left Richmond at six o'clock 
on the morning of the 20th." 

" Then they got in late that night or early next morning. 
Ah, the train was on time that day, and got in at half-past 
nine at night. Here they are — three boxes and a bag, numbers 
15020, went out on the 28th. Yes, that's right enough. Now 
I will just ask my mate if he remembers about their going out." 

THE baggage-man's ADVICE. 293 

The other man was called. Oh, yes, he remembered quite 
^ell the three boxes standing in the corner. They went out 
some time in the afternoon. It was just after the train came 
in from Richmond. He noticed the man that asked for them. 
He got him to help carry out the boxes and put them into a 
cart. Yes, he remembered there was another man with him, 
and a negress with a child. He wondered at the time what 
they were up to, but supposed it was all right. Yes, he didn't 
mind trying to find out who had hired out a cart for the job. 
Dessay he could find out by to-morrow — at any rate he would 
try. Five dollars was worth earning anyway. 

Having put this matter in train, Vincent, leaving Dan at 
Florence, went down at once to Charleston. Here, after 
twenty-four hours' delay, he obtained a warrant for the arrest 
of Jonas Pearson and others on the charge of kidnapping, and 
then returned to Florence. He found that the railway man 
had failed in obtaining any information as to the cart, and 
concluded it must have come in from the country on purpose 
to meet the train. 

"At any rate," Vincent said, "it must be within a pretty 
limited range of country. The railway makes a bend from 
Wilmington to this place and then down to Charleston, so this 
is really the nearest station to only a small extent of country." 

"That's so," the railway man said. He had heard from 
Dan a good deal about the case, and had got thoroughly inter- 
ested in it. "Either Marion or Kingstree would be nearer, 
one way or the other, to most of the swamp country. So it 
can't be as far as Conwayborough on the north or Georgetown 
on the south, and it must lie somewhere between Jeffries' 
Creek and Lynch's Creek; anyhow it would be in Marion 
County — that's pretty nigh sure. So if I were you I would 
take rail back to Marion Court-house, and see the sheriff there 
and have a talk over the matter with him. You haven't got 

294 "shoot him at sight." 

much to go upon, because this man you are after has been 
away from here a good many years and won't be known; be- 
sides, likely enough he went by some other name down here. 
Anyhow, the sheriff can put you up to the roads, and the best 
way of going about the job." 

"I think that would be the best way," Vincent said. "We 
shall be able to see the county map too and to learn all the 
geography of the place." 

"You have got your six-shooters with you, I suppose, because 
you are as likely as not to have to use them?" 

"Yes, we have each got a Colt; and as I have had a good 
deal of practice, it would be awkward for Pearson if he gives 
me occasion to use it." 

"After what I hear of the matter," the man said, "I should 
say your best plan is just to shoot him at sight. It's what 
would serve him right. You bet there will be no fuss over it. 
It will save you a lot of trouble anyway." 

Vincent laughed. 

"My advice is good," the man went on earnestly. "They 
are a rough lot down there, and hang together. You will have 
to do it sudden, whatever you do, or you will get the hull 
neighbourhood up agin you." 

On reaching Marion Court-house they sought out the sheriff, 
produced the warrant signed by the States' authority, and 
explained the whole circumstances. 

"I am ready to aid you in any way I can," the sheriff said 
when he concluded; "but the question is, where has the fellow 
got to? You see he may be anywhere in this tract;" and he 
pointed out a circle on the map of the county that hung against 
the wall. " That is about fifty mile across, and a pretty nasty 
spot, I can tell you. There are wide swamps on both sides of 
the creek, and rice grounds and all sorts. There ain't above 
three or four villages altogether, but there may be two or three 

THE sheriff's BOOKS. 295 

hundred little plantations scattered about, some big and some 
little. We haven't got anything to guide us in the slightest, 
not a thing, as I can see." 

"The man who was working under Pearson, when he was 
with us, told me he had got the notion that he had had to leave 
on account of some trouble here. Possibly that might afford 
a clue." 

" It might do so," the sheriff said. " When did he come to 

" I think it was when I was six or seven years old. That 
would be about twelve or thirteen years ago; but, of course, 
he may not have come direct to us after leaving here." 

" We can look anyway," the sheriff said, and, opening a chest, 
he took out a number of volumes containing the records of his 
predecessors. "Twelve years ago! Well, this is the volume. 
Now, Captain Wingfield, I have got some other business in 
hand that will take me a couple of hours. I will leave you 
out this volume and the one before it and the one after it, and 
if you like to go through them you may come across the de- 
scription of some man wanted that agrees with that of the man 
you are in search of." 

It took Vincent two hours and a half to go through the 
volume, but he met with no description answering to that of 

" I will go through the first six months of the next year," 
he said to himself, taking up that volume, "and the last six 
months of the year before." 

The second volume yielded no better result, and he then 
turned back to the first of the three books. Beginning in July, 
he read steadily on until he came to December. Scarcely had 
he begun the record of that month than he uttered an excla- 
mation of satisfaction. 

"December the 2nd. — Information laid against gang at 


Porter's Station, near Lynch's Creek. Charged with several 
robberies and murders in different parts of the country. Long 
been suspected of having stills in the swamps. Gang consists 
of four besides Porter himself. Names of gang, Jack Haverley, 
Jim Corben, and John and James Porter. Ordered out posse 
to start to-morrow." 

" December 5th. — Ee turned from Porter's Station. Surprised 
the gang. They resisted. Haverley, Corben, and Jas. Porter 
shot. John Porter escaped, and took to swamp. Four of posse 
wounded; one, WilHam Hannay, killed. Circulated description 
of John Porter through the county. Tall and lean; when 15 
years old shot a man in a brawl, and went north. Has been 
absent 13 years. Assumed the appearance of a northern man 
and speaks with Yankee twang. Father was absent at the 
time of attack. Captured three hours after. Declares he 
knows nothing about doings of the gang. Haverley and 
Corben were friends of his sons. Came and went when they 
liked. Will be tried on the 15th." 

On the 16th there was another entry: 

" William Porter sentenced to three years' imprisonment for 
giving shelter to gang of robbers. Evidence wanting to show 
he took any actual part in their crimes." 

The sheriff had been in and out several times during the five 
hours that Vincent's search had taken up. When he returned 
again Vincent pointed out the entry he had found. 

"I should not be at all surprised if that's our man," the 
sheriff said. " I know old Porter well, for he is still alive and 
bears a pretty bad reputation still, though we have never 
been able to bring him to book. I remember all the circum- 
stances of that affair, for I served upon the posse. While 
Porter was in prison his house was kept for him by a married 
daughter and her husband. There was a strong suspicion that 
the man was one of the gang too, but we couldn't prove it. 


They have lived there ever since. They have got five or six field 
hands, and are said to be well ofi". We have no doubt they 
have got a still somewhere in the swamps, but we have never 
been able to find it. I will send a man ofi" to-morrow to make 
inquiries whether any stranger has arrived there lately. Of 
course, Pearson will not have kept that name, and he will 
not have appeared as John Porter, for he would be arrested 
on a fresh warrant at once for his share in that former 
business. I think. Captain Wingfield, you had better register 
at the hotel here under some other name. I don't suppose 
that he has any fear of being tracked here; still it is just 
possible his father may have got somebody here and at Florence 
to keep their eyes open and let him know if there are any in- 
quiries being made by strangers about a missing negress. One 
cannot be too careful. If he got the least hint, his son and the 
woman would be hidden away in the swamps before we could 
get there, and there would be no saying when we could find him." 

Vincent took the sheriff's advice, and entered his name in 
the hotel books as Mr. Vincent. Late in the evening the 
sheriff came round to him. 

" I have just sent summonses to six men. I would rather 
have had two or three more, but young men are very scarce 
around here now; and as with you and myself that brings it 
up to eight that ought to be suflBcient, as these fellows will 
have no time to summon any of their friends to their assistance. 
Have you a rifle. Captain Wingfield?" 

"No; I have a brace of revolvers." 

"They are useful enough for close work," the sheriff said, 
" but if they see us coming, and barricade their house and open 
fire upon us, you will want something that carries further than 
a revolver. I can lend you a rifle as well as a horse if you will 
accept them." 

Vincent accepted the offer with thanks. The next morning 


at daylight he went round to the sheriff's house, where six 
determined-looking men, belonging to the town or neighbour- 
ing farms, were assembled. Slinging the rifle that the sheriff 
handed him across his back, Vincent at once mounted, and the 
party set off at a brisk trot. 

"My man came back half an hour ago," the sheriff said to 
Vincent as they rode along. " He found out that a man - 
answering to your description arrived with another at Porter's 
about a fortnight ago, and is staying there still. Whether 
they brought a negress with them or not no one seems to have 
noticed. However, there is not a shadow of doubt that it is 
our man, and I shall be heartily glad to lay hold of him; for 
a brother of mine was badly wounded in that last affair, and 
though he lived some years afterwards he was never the same 
man again. So I have a personal interest in it, you see." 

"How far is it to Porter's?" 

"About thirty-five miles. We shall get there about two 
o'clock, I reckon. We are all pretty well mounted and can 
keep at this pace, with a break or two, till we get there. I 
propose that we dismount when we get within half a mile of 
the place. We will try and get hold of someone who knows 
the country well, and get him to lead three of us round through 
the edge of the swamp to the back of the house. It stands 
within fifty yards of the swamp. I have no doubt they put it 
there so that they might escape if pressed, and also to prevent 
their being observed going backwards and forwards to that 
still of theirs." 

This plan was followed out. A negro lad was found who, 
on the promise of a couple of dollars, agreed to act as guide. 
Three of the party were then told off to follow him, and the 
rest, after waiting for half an hour to allow them to make the 
detour, mounted their horses and rode down at a gallop to the 
house. When they were within a short distance of it they 


heard a shout, and a man who was lounging near the door 
ran inside. Almost instantly they saw the shutters swing 
back across the windows, and when they drew up fifty yards 
from the door the barrels of four rifles were pushed out through 
slits in the shutters. 

The sheriff held up his hand. "William Porter, I want a 
word with you." 

A shutter in an upper room opened, and an elderly man 
appeared with a rifle in his hand. 

"William Porter," the sheriff said, "I have a warrant for 
the arrest of two men now in your house on the charge of 
kidnapping a female slave, the property of Captain Wingfield 
here. I have no proof that you had any share in the matter, 
or that you are aware that the slave was not honestly obtained. 
In the second place, I have a warrant for the arrest of your 
son John Porter, now in your house and passing recently under 
the name of Jonas Pearson, on the charge of resisting and killing 
the officers of the law on the 5th of December, 1851. I counsel 
you to hand over these men to me without resistance. You 
know what happened when your sons defied the law before, 
and what will happen now if you refuse compliance." 

"Yah!" the old man shouted. "Do you suppose we are 
going to give in to five meni Not if we know it. Now, I 
warn you, move yourself off while I let you, else you will get 
a bullet in you before I count three." 

"Very well, then. You must take the consequences," the 
sheriff replied, and at once called the party to fall back. 

" We must dismount," he said in answer to Vincent's look 
of surprise; "they would riddle us here on horseback in the 
open. Besides we must dismount to break in the door." 

They rode back a quarter of a mile, and then dismounted. 
The sheriff took two heavy axes that hung from his saddle, 
and handed them to two of the men. 


" I reckoned we should have trouble," he said. *' However, 
I hope we sha'n't have to use these. My idea is to crawl up 
through the corn-field until we are within shooting distance, 
and then to open fire at the loopholes. They have never taken 
the trouble to grub up the stumps, and each man must look out 
for shelter. I want to make it so hot for them that they will 
try to bolt to the swamp, and in that case they will be covered 
by the men there. I told them not to fire until they got quite 
close; so they ought to dispose of three of them, and as they 
have got pistols they will be able to master the others; besides, 
directly we hear firing behind, we shall jump up and make 
a rush round. Do you, sir, and James Wilkins here, stop in 
front. Two of them might make a rush out behind, and the 
others, when they have drawn us off, bolt in front." 

Several shots were fired at the party as they made their way 
across to the end of the field, where the tall stalks of maize 
were still standing, though the corn had been gathered weeks, 
before. As soon as they reached the shelter they separated, 
each crawling through the maize until they arrived within fifty 
yards of the house. There were, as the sheriff had said, many 
stumps still standing, and each ensconced himself behind one 
of these, and began to reply to the fire that the defenders had 
kept up whenever they saw a movement among the corn stalks. 

At such a distance the shutters were but of slight advantage 
to the defenders of the house; for the assailants were all good 
shots, and the loopholes afforded excellent targets at such a 
distance. After a few shots had been fired from the house the 
fire of the defenders ceased, the men within not daring to pro- 
trude the rifles through the loophole, as every such appearance 
was instantly followed by a couple of shots from the corn 

"Give me one of those axes," the sheriff said. "^N'ow, 
Withers, do you make a rush with me to the door. Get your 



rifle loaded before you start, and have your revolver handy in 
your belt. Now, Captain Wingfield, do you and the other two 
keep a sharp look-out at the loopholes, and see that they don't 
get a shot at us as we run. Now, Withers," and the sheriff 
ran forward. Two rifles were protruded through the loopholes. 
Vincent and his companions fired at once. One of the rifles 
gave a sharp jerk and disappeared, the other was fired, and 
Withers dropped his axe, but still ran forward. The sheriff 
began an onslaught at the door, his companion's right arm 
being useless. A minute later the sharp crack of rifles was 
heard in the rear, and the sheriff and two men rushed in that 
direction, while Vincent and the other lay watching the door. 
Scarcely had the sherifi's party disappeared round the house 
than the door was thrown open, and Pearson ran out at full 
speed. Vincent leapt to his feet. 

"Surrender," he said, "or you are a dead man." 

Jonas paused for a moment with a loud imprecation, and 
then levelling a revolver, fired. Vincent felt a moment's pain 
in the cheek, but before he could level his rifle his companion 
fired, and Pearson fell forward dead. A minute later the 
sheriff and his party ran round. 

" Have you got him? " he asked. 

" He will give no more trouble. Sheriff," the young man who 
fired said. " I fancy I had him plum between the eyes. How 
about the others ? " 

"Dick Matheson is killed: he got two bullets in his body. 
The other man is badly wounded. There are no signs of old 

They now advanced to the door, which stood open. As the 
sheriff entered there was a sharp report, and he fell back shot 
through the heart. The rest made a rush forward. Another 
shot was fired, but this missed them, and before it could be 
repeated they had wrested the pistol from the hand of Mathe- 


son's wife. She was firmly secured, and they then entered the 
kitchen, where, couched upon the floor, lay some seven or eight 
negro men and women in an agony of terror. Vincent's ques- 
tion, "Dinah, where are you?" was answered by a scream of 
delight; and Dinah, who had been covering her child with her 
body, leapt to her feet. 

"It's all right, Dinah," Vincent said; "but stay here, we 
haven't finished this business yet," 

"I fancy the old man's upstairs," one of the men said. "It 
was his rifle, I reckon, that disappeared when we fired." 

It was as he expected. Porter was found dead behind the 
loophole, a bullet having passed through his brain. The 
deputy-sheriff, who was with the party, now took the com- 
mand. A cart and horse were found in an out-building; in 
these the wounded man, who was one of those who had taken 
part in the abduction of Dinah, was placed, together with the 
female prisoner and the dead body of the sheriff. The negroes 
were told to follow; and the horses having being fetched the 
party mounted and rode off to the next village, five miles on 
their way back. Here they halted for the night, and the next 
day went on to Marion Court-house, Vincent hiring a cart for 
the conveyance of Dinah and the other women. It was settled 
that Vincent's attendance at the trial of the two prisoners 
would not be necessary, as the man would be tried for armed 
resistance to the law, and the woman for murdering the 
sheriff. The facts could be proved by other witnesses, and as 
there could be no doubt about obtaining convictions, it would 
be unnecessary to try the charge against the man for kid- 
napping. Next day, accordingly, Vincent started with Dinah 
and Dan for Richmond. Two months afterwards he saw in 
the paper that Jane Matheson had been sentenced to im- 
prisonment for life, the man to fourteen years. 



jHE news of the fight between the sheriff's posse and 
the band at Lynch's Creek was telegraphed to the 
Richmond papers by their local agent upon the day 
after it occurred. The report said that Captain 
Wingfield, a young officer who had frequently distinguished 
himself, had followed the traces of a gang, one of whom 
was a notorious criminal who had evaded the pursuit of 
the law, and escaped from that section fifteen years ago, and 
had, under an assumed name, been acting as overseer at Mrs. 
Wingfield's Estate of the Orangery. These men had carried 
off a negress belonging to Mrs. Wingfield, and had taken hex 
down South. Captain Wingfield, having obtained the assistance 
of the sheriff with a posse of determined men, rode to the 
place which served as headquarters for the gang. Upon being 
summoned to surrender the men opened a fire upon the 
sheriff and his posse. A sharp fight ensued, in which the 
sheriff was killed and one of his men wounded; while the four 
members of the gang were either killed or taken prisoners. It 
was reported that a person occupying a position as a planter 
in the neighbourhood of Richmond is connected with this gang. 
The reporter had obtained his news from Vincent, who had 
purposely refrained from mentioning the names of those who 
had fallen. He had already had a conversation with the 


wounded prisoner. The latter had declared that he had 
simply acted in the affair as he had been paid to do by the 
man he knew in Richmond as Pearson, who told him that 
he wanted him to aid in carrying off a slave woman, who was 
really his property, but had been fraudulently taken from him. 
He had heard him say that there was another interested in 
the affair, who had his own reasons for getting the woman out 
of the way, and had paid handsomely for the job. Who that 
other was Pearson had never mentioned. 

Vincent saw that he had no absolute evidence against 
Jackson, and therefore purposely suppressed the fact that 
Pearson was among the killed in hopes that the paragraph 
would so alarm Jackson that he would at once decamp. His 
anticipations were entirely justified; for upon the day of his 
return to Richmond he saw a notice in the paper that the 
Cedars, with its field hands, houses, and all belonging to it, 
was for sale. He proceeded at once to the estate agent, and 
learnt from him that Jackson had come in two days before 
and had informed him that sudden and important business 
had called him away, and that he was starting at once for New 
York, where his presence was urgently required, and that he 
should attempt to get through the lines immediately. He had 
asked him what he thought the property and slaves would fetch. 
Being acquainted with the estate, he had given him a rough 
estimate, and had, upon Jackson's giving him full powers to 
sell, advanced him two-thirds of the sum. Jackson had appa- 
rently started at once; indeed, he had told him that he should 
take the next train as far North as he could get. 

Vincent received the news with great satisfaction. He had 
little doubt that Jackson had really made down to the South, 
and that he would try to cross the lines there, his statement 
that he intended to go direct North being merely intended to 
throw his pursuers off his track should a warrant be issued 


against him. However, it mattered little which way Jackson 
had gone, so that he had left the State. There was little chance 
of his ever returning; for even when he learned that his con- 
federate in the business had been killed in the fight, he could 
not be certain that the prisoner who had been taken was not 
aware of the share he had in the business. 

A fortnight later Vincent went down into Georgia and 
brought back Lucy Kingston for a visit to his mother. She 
had already received a letter from her father in reply to one 
she had written after reaching her aunts' protection, saying how 
delighted he was to hear that she had crossed the lines, for 
that he had suffered the greatest anxiety concerning her, and 
had continually reproached himself for not sending her away 
sooner. He said that he was much pleased with her engage- 
ment to Captain Wingfield, whom he did not know personally, 
but of whom he heard the most favourable reports from various 
Virginian gentlemen to whom he had spoken since the receipt 
of her letter. 

Lucy remained at Richmond until the beginning of March, 
when Vincent took her home to Georgia again, and a week 
after his return rejoined the army on the Eappahannock. 
Every effort had been made by the Confederate authorities to 
raise the army of General Lee to a point that would enable him 
to cope with the tremendous force the enemy were collecting 
for the ensuing campaign. The drain of men was now telling 
terribly, and Lee had at the utmost 40,000 to oppose the 160,000 
collected under General Hooker. 

The first fight of the campaign had already taken place when 
Vincent rejoined the army. A body of 3000 Federal cavalry had 
crossed the river on the 17th of March at Kelly's Ford, but 
had been met by General Fitz Lee with about 800 cavalry, and 
after a long and stubborn conflict had been driven back with 
heavy loss across the river. It was not until the middle of 

(538) u 


April that the enemy began to move in earnest. Every ford 
was watched by Stuart's cavalry, and the frequent attempts 
made by the Federal horse to push across to obtain information 
were always defeated. 

On the 27th of April General Hooker's preparations were 
complete. His plan of action was that 20,000 men should 
cross the river near the old battlefield of Fredericksburg, and 
thus lead the Confederates to believe that this was the point of 
attack. The main body were, however, to cross at Kelly's Ford, 
many miles higher up the river, and to march down towards 
Fredericksburg. The other force was then to recross, march up 
the river, cross at Kelly's Ford, and follow and join the main 
army. At the same time the Federal cavalry, which was very 
numerous and well-organized, was, under General Stoneman, to 
strike down through the country towards Eichmond, and thus 
cut the Confederate communication with their capital, and so 
prevent Longstreet's division, which was lying near Pdchmond, 
from rejoining Lee. 

The passage of the river was effected at the two fords without 
resistance on the 29th of April, and upon the same day the 
cavalry column marched South. General Lee directed a por- 
tion of his cavalry under General Fitz Lee to harass and delay 
this column as much as possible. Although he had with him 
but a few hundred men, he succeeded in doing good service in 
cutting off detached bodies of the enemy, capturing many 
officers and men, and so demoralizing the invaders that, after 
pushing on as far as the James River, Stoneman had to retreat 
in great haste across the Rapidan River. 

Hooker having crossed the river, marched on to Chancellors- 
ville, where he set to to entrench himself, having sent word to 
General Sedgwick, who commanded the force that had crossed 
near Fredericksburg, to recross, push round, and join as soon 
as possible. Chancellorsville was a large brick mansion stand- 


ing in the midst of fields surrounded by extensive forests. The 
country was known as the Wilderness. Within a range of 
many miles there were only a few scattered houses, and dense 
thickets and pine -woods covered the whole country. Two 
narrow roads passed through the woods, crossing each other at 
Chancellorsville; two other roads led to the fords known as 
Ely's Ford and the United States Ford. As soon as he reached 
Chancellorsville Hooker set his troops to work cutting down 
trees and throwing up earthworks for infantry and redoubts 
for artillery, erecting a double line of defences. On these he 
mounted upwards of a hundred pieces of artillery, commanding 
the narrow roads by which an enemy must approach, for the 
thickets were in many places so dense as to render it impossible 
for troops to force their way through them. 

When Sedgwick crossed the river, Lee drew up his army to 
oppose him; but finding that no more troops crossed, and that 
Sedgwick did not advance, he soon came to the conclusion that 
this was not the point at which the enemy intended to attack, 
and in twenty-four hours one of Stuart's horsemen brought 
the news that Hooker had crossed the Rappahannock at Kelly's 
Ford and the Eapidan at Ely's Ford. Lee at once left one 
division to face General Sedgwick, and ordered the three others 
to join General Anderson, who with 8000 men had fallen back 
before Hooker's advance, and taken his post at Tabernacle 
Church, about half-way between Fredericksburg and Taber- 
nacle. Lee himself rode forward at once and joined Anderson. 

Jackson led the force from Fredericksburg, and pressed the 
enemy back towards Chancellorsville until he approached 
the tremendous lines of fortifications, and then fell back to 
communicate with Lee. That night a council of war was held, 
and it was agreed that an attack upon the front of the enemy's 
position was absolutely impossible. Hooker himself was so 
positive that his position was impregnable that he issued a 


general order of congratulation to his troops, saying that "the 
enemy must now ingioriously fly or give us battle on our own 
ground, where certain destruction awaits him." 

Jackson then suggested that he should work right round the 
Wilderness in front of the enemy's position, march down until 
well on its flank, and attack it there, where they would be 
unprepared for an assault. The movement was one of extra- 
ordinary peril. Lee would be left with but one division in 
face of an immensely superior force; Jackson would have to 
perform an arduous march exposed to an attack by the whole 
force of the enemy; and both might be destroyed separately 
without being able to render the slightest assistance to each 
other. At daybreak on the 2d of May Jackson mustered his 
troops for the advance. He had in the course of the night 
caught a severe cold. In the hasty march he had left his 
blankets behind him. One of his stafi" threw a heavy cape 
over him as he lay on the wet ground. During the night 
Jackson woke, and thinking that the young officer might him- 
self be suffering from the want of his cape, rose quietly, spread 
the cape over him, and lay down without it. The consequence 
was a severe cold, which terminated in an attack of pneumonia 
that, occurring at a time when he was enfeebled by his wounds, 
resulted in his death. If he had not thrown that cape over 
the officer it is probable that he would have survived his 

At daybreak the column commenced its march. It had to 
traverse a narrow and unfrequented road through dense thickets, 
occasionally crossing ground in sight of the enemy, and at 
the end to attack a tremendous position held by immensely 
superior forces. Stuart with his cavalry moved on the flank 
of the column whenever the ground was open, so as to conceal 
the march of the infantry from the enemy. As the rear of the 
column passed a spot called the Furnace, the enemy suddenly 


advanced and cut off the 23d Georgia, who were in the rear 
of the column, and captured the whole regiment with the 
exception of a score of men. At this point the road turned 
almost directly away from Chancellorsville, and the enemy be- 
lieved that the column was in full retreat, and had not the 
least idea of its real object. 

So hour after hour the troops pressed on until they reached 
the turnpike road passing east and west through Chancellors- 
ville, which now lay exactly between them and the point 
that they had left in the morning. Jackson's design was 
to advance upon this line of road, to extend his troops to the 
left and then to swing round, cut the enemy's retreat to the 
fords, and capture them all. Hooker had akeady been joined 
by two of Sedgwick's army corps, and had now six army corps 
at Chancellorsville, whilst Jackson's force consisted of 22,000 
men. Lee remained with 13,000 at Tabernacle. The latter 
general had not been attacked, but had continued to make de- 
monstrations against the Federal left, occupying their attention 
and preventing them from discovering how large a portion of 
his force had left him. 

It was at five o'clock in the evening that Jackson's troops, 
having gained their position, advanced to the attack. In front 
of them lay Howard's division of the Federals, intrenched in 
strong earthworks covered by felled trees; but the enemy were 
altogether unsuspicious of danger, and it was not until with 
tumultuous cheers the Confederates dashed through the trees 
and attacked the entrenchment that they had any suspicion of 
their presence. They ran to their arms, but it was too late. 
The Confederates rushed through the obstacles, climbed the 
earthworks, and carried those in front of them, capturing 700 
prisoners and five guns. The rest of the Federal troops here, 
throwing away muskets and guns, fled in wild confusion. 
Steadily the Confederates pressed on, driving the enemy before 


them, and capturing position after position, until the whole 
right wing of the Federal army was routed and disorganized. 
For three hours the Confederates continued their march without 
a check; but owing to the denseness of the wood, and the 
necessity of keeping the troops in line, the advance was slow, 
and night fell before the movement could be completed. One 
more hour of daylight and the whole Federal army would have 
been cut off and captured, but by eight o'clock the darkness 
in the forest was so complete that all movement had to be 

Half an hour later one of the saddest incidents of the war took 
place. General Jackson with a few of his staff went forward 
to reconnoitre. As he returned towards his lines, his troops 
in the dark mistook them for a reconnoitring party of the 
enemy and fired, killing or wounding the whole of them. 
General Jackson receiving three balls. The enemy, who were 
but a hundred yards distant, at once opened a tremendous fire 
with grape towards the spot, and it was some time before 
Jackson could be carried off the field. The news that their 
beloved general was wounded was for some time kept from the 
troops; but a whisper gradually spread, and the grief of his 
soldiers was unbounded, for rather would they have suffered a 
disastrous defeat than that Stonewall Jackson should have 

General Stuart assumed the command. General Hill, who 
was second in command, having, with many other officers, been 
wounded by the tremendous storm of grape and canister that 
the Federals poured though the wood when they anticipated 
an attack. At daybreak the troops again moved forward in 
three lines, Stuart placing his thirty guns on a slight ridge, 
where they could sweep the lines of the Federal defences. 
Three times the position was won and lost; but the Con- 
federates fought with such fury and resolution, shouting each 


time they charged the Federal ranks "Remember Jackson," 
that the enemy gradually gave way, and by ten o'clock Chan- 
cellorsville itself was taken, the Federals being driven back 
into the forest between the house and the river. 

Lee had early in the morning begun to advance from his 
side to the attack, but just as he was moving forward the 
news came that Sedgwick had recrossed at Fredericksburg, 
captured a portion of the Confederate force there, and was ad- 
vancing to join Hooker. He at once sent two of his three 
little divisions to join the Confederates who were opposing 
Sedgwick's advance, while with the three or four thousand 
men remaining to him, he all day made feigned attacks upon 
the enemy's position, occupying their attention there, and pre- 
venting them from sending reinforcements to the troops en- 
gaged with Stuart. At night he himself hurried away, took 
the command of the troops opposed to Sedgwick, attacked him 
vigorously at daybreak, and drove him with heavy loss back 
across the river. The next day he marched back with his force 
to join in the final attack upon the Federals; but when the 
troops of Stuart and Lee moved forward they encountered no 
opposition. Hooker had begun to carry his troops across the 
river on the night he was hurled back out of Chancellorsville, 
and the rest of his troops had crossed on the two following 

General Hooker issued a pompous order to his troops after 
getting across the river, to the effect that the movement had 
met with the complete success he had anticipated from it; but 
the truth soon leaked out. General Sedgwick's force had lost 
6000 men, Hooker's own command fully 20,000 more; but 
splendid as the success was, it was dearly purchased by the 
Confederates at the price of the life of Stonewall Jackson. 
His arm was amputated the day after the battle; he lived for 
a week, and died not so much from the effect of his wounds as 


from the pneumonia, the result of his exposure to the heavy 
dew on the night preceding his march through the Wilderness. 

During the two days' fighting Vincent Wingfield had dis- 
charged his duties upon General Stuart's staff. On the first 
day the work had been slight, for General Stuart, with the 
cannon, remained in the rear, while Jackson's infantry attacked 
and carried the Federal retrenchments. Upon the second 
day, however, when Stuart assumed the command, Vincent's 
duties had been onerous and dangerous in the extreme. He 
was constantly carrying orders from one part of the field to the 
other, amid such a shower of shot and shell that it seemed mar- 
vellous that anyone could exist within it. To his great grief 
Wildfire was killed under him, but he himself escaped without 
a scratch. When he came afterwards to try to describe the 
battle to those at home he could give no account of it. 

" To me," he said, " it was simply a chaos of noise and con- 
fusion. Of what was going on I knew nothing. The din was 
appalling. The roar of the shells, the hum of grape and canister, 
the whistle of bullets, the shouts of the men, formed a mighty 
roar that seemed to render thinking impossible. Showers of 
leaves fell incessantly, great boughs of trees were shorn away, 
and trees themselves sometimes came crashing down as a trunk 
was struck full by a shell. The undergrowth had caught fire, 
and the thick smoke, mingled ^vith that of the battle, rendered 
it difficult to see or to breathe. I had but one thought, that of 
making my way through the trees, of finding the corps to 
which I was sent, of delivering my message, and finding the 
General again. No, I don't think I had much thought of danger, 
the whole thing was somehow so tremendous that one had no 
thought whatever for one's self. It was a sort of terrible dream, 
in which one was possessed of the single idea to get to a certain 
place. It was not tiU at last we swept across the open 
ground down to the house, that I seemed to take any distinct 


notice of what was going on around me. Then, for the first 
time, the exulting shouts of the men, and the long lines ad- 
vancing at the double, woke me up to the fact that we had 
gained one of the most wonderful victories in history, and had 
driven an army of four or five times our own strength from a 
position that they believed they had made impregnable." 

The defeat of Hooker for a time put a stop to any further 
advance against Richmond from the North. The Federal troops, 
whose term of service was up, returned home, and it was 
months before all the efforts of the authorities of Washington 
could place the army in a condition to make a renewed advance. 
But the Confederates had also suffered heavily. A third of the 
force with which Jackson had attacked had fallen, and their 
loss could not be replaced, as the Confederates were forced to 
send every one they could raise to the assistance of the armies 
in the West, where Generals Banks and Grant were carrying 
on operations with great success against them. The important 
town of Vicksburg, which commanded the navigation of the 
Mississippi was besieged, and after a resistance lasting for some 
months, surrendered, with its garrison of 25,000 men, on the 
3d of July, and the Federal gunboats were thus able to pene- 
trate by the Mississippi and its confluents into the heart of 
the Confederacy. 

Shortly after the battle of Chancellorsville, Vincent was 
appointed to the command of a squadron of cavalry that was 
detached from Stuart's force and sent down to Richmond to 
guard the capital from any raids by bodies of Federal cavalry. 
It had been two or three times menaced by flying bodies of 
horsemen, and during the cavalry advance before the battle of 
Chancellorsville small parties had penetrated to within three 
miles of the city, cutting all the telegraph wires, pulling up 
rails, and causing the greatest terror. Vincent was not sorry 
for the change. It took him away from the great theatre of 


the war, but after Chancellors ville he felt no eager desire to 
take part in future battles. His duties would keep him near 
his home, and would give ample scope for the display of watch- 
fulness, dash, and energy. Consequently he took no part in 
the campaign that commenced in the first week in June. 

Tired of standing always on the defensive, the Confederate 
authorities determined to carry out the step that had been so 
warmly advocated by Jackson earlier in the war, and which 
might at that time have brought it to a successful termination. 
They decided to carry the war into the enemy's country. By 
the most strenuous efforts Lee's army was raised to 75,000 men, 
divided into three great army corps, commanded by Longstreet, 
Ewell, and Hill. Striking first into Western Virginia, they 
drove the Federals from Winchester, and chased them from 
the state with the loss of nearly 4000 prisoners and 30 guns. 
Then they entered Maryland and Pennsylvania, and concen- 
trating at Gettysburg they met the Northern army under 
Meade, who had succeeded Hooker. Although great numbers 
of the Confederates had seen their homes wasted and their 
property wantonly destroyed, they preserved the most perfect 
order in their march through the north, and the Federals 
themselves testify to the admirable behaviour of the troops, and 
to the manner in which they abstained from plundering or 
inflicting annoyance upon the inhabitants. 

At Gettysburg there was three days' fighting. In the first 
a portion only of the forces were engaged, the Federals being 
defeated and 5000 of their men taken prisoners. Upon the 
second the Confederates attacked the Northerners, who were 
posted in an extremely strong position, but were repulsed with 
heavy loss. The following day they renewed the attack, but 
after tremendous fighting again failed to carry the height. 
Both parties were utterly exhausted. Lee drew up his troops 
the next day, and invited an attack from the Federals; but 


contented with the success they had gained they maintained 
their position, and the Confederates then fell back, Stuart's 
cavalry protecting the immense trains of waggons loaded with 
the stores and ammunition captured in Pennsylvania. 

But little attempt was made by the Northerners to interfere 
with their retreat. On reaching the Potomac they found that 
a sudden rise had rendered the fords impassable. Intrench- 
ments and batteries were thrown up, and for a week the Con- 
federate army held the lines, expecting an attack from the 
enemy, who had approached within two miles; but the Federal 
generals were too well satisfied with having gained a success 
when acting on the defensive in a strong position to risk a 
defeat in attacking the position of the Confederates, and their 
forces remained impassive until pontoon bridges were thrown 
across the river, and the Confederate army, with their vast 
baggage train, had again crossed into Virginia. The campaign 
had cost the Northern army 23,000 men in killed, wounded, 
and prisoners, besides a considerable number of guns. The 
Confederates lost only two guns, left behind in the mud, and 
1500 prisoners, but their loss in killed and wounded at Gettys- 
burg exceeded 10,000 men. Even the most sanguine among 
the ranks of the Confederacy were now conscious that the 
position was a desperate one. The Federal armies seemed 
to spring from the ground. Strict discipline had taken the 
place of the disorder and insubordination that had first pre- 
vailed in their ranks. The armies were splendidly equipped. 
They were able to obtain any amount of the finest guns, rifles, 
and ammunition of war from the workshops of Europe; while 
the Confederates, cut off from the world, had to rely solely upon 
the make-shift factories they had set up, and upon the guns 
and stores they captured from the enemy. 

The Northerners had now, as a blow to the power of the 
South, abolished slavery, and were raising regiments of negroes 


from among the free blacks of the North, and from the slaves 
they took from their owners wherever their armies penetrated 
the Southern States. Most of the Confederate ports had been 
either captured or were so strictly blockaded that it was next 
to impossible for the blockade-runners to get in or out, while 
the capture of the forts on the Mississippi enabled them to 
use the Federal flotillas of gunboats to the greatest advantage, 
and to carry their armies into the centre of the Confederacy. 

Still, there was no talk whatever of surrender on the part of 
the South, and, indeed, the decree abolishing slavery, and still 
more the action of the North in raising black regiments, excited 
the bitterest feeling of animosity and hatred. The determi- 
nation to fight to the last, whatever came of it, animated every 
white man in the Southern States, and, although deeply disap- 
pointed with the failure of Lee's invasion of the North, the only 
result was to incite them to greater exertions and sacrifices. 
In the North an act authorizing conscription was passed in 1863, 
but the attempt to carry it into force caused a serious riot in 
New York, which was only suppressed after many lives had 
been lost and the city placed under martial law. 

While the guns of Gettysburg were still thundering, a 
Federal army of 18,000 men under General Gillmore, assisted 
by the fleet, had laid siege to Charleston. It was obstinately 
attacked and defended. The siege continued until the 5th of 
September, when Fort Wagner was captured; but all attempts 
to take Fort Sumter and the town of Charleston itseK failed, 
although the city sufi'ered greatly from the bombardment. In 
Tennessee there was severe fighting in the autumn, and two 
desperate battles were fought at Chickamauga on the 19th 
and 20th of September, General Bragg, who commanded the 
Confederate army there, being reinforced by Longstreet's vet- 
erans from the army of Virginia. After desperate fighting the 
Federals were defeated, and thirty-six guns and vast quantities 


of arms captured by the Confederates. The fruits of the 
victory, however, were very slight, as General Bragg refused 
to allow Longstreet to pursue, and so to convert the Federal 
retreat into a rout, and the consequence was, that this victory 
was more than balanced by a heavy defeat inflicted upon them 
in November at Chattanooga by Sherman and Grant. At this 
battle General Longstreet's division was not present. 

The army of Virginia had a long rest after their return from 
Gettysburg, and it was not until November that the campaign 
was renewed. Meade advanced, a few minor skirmishes took 
place, and then, when he reached the Wilderness, the scene of 
Hooker's defeat, where Lee was prepared to give battle, he fell 
back again across the Rappahannock. 

The year had been an unfortunate one for the Confederates. 
They had lost Yicksburg, and the defeat at Chattanooga had 
led to the whole State of Tennessee falling into the hands of 
the Federals, while against these losses there was no counter- 
balancing success to be reckoned. 

In the spring of 186-i both parties prepared to the utmost 
for the struggle. General Grant, an ofiicer who had shown 
in the campaign in the West that he possessed considerable 
military ability, united with immense firmness and determi- 
nation of purpose, was chosen as the new commander-in-chief 
of the whole military force of the North. It was a mighty 
army, vast in numbers, lavishly provided with all materials of 
war. The official documents show that on the 1st of May the 
total military forces of the North amounted to 662,000 men. 
Of these the force available for the advance against Eichmond 
numbered 284,630 men. This included the army of the 
Potomac, that of the James River, and the army in the Shen- 
nandoah Valley — the whole of whom were in readiness to move 
forward against Richmond at the orders of Grant. 

To oppose these General Lee had less than 53,000 men, 


including the garrison of Eichmond and the troops in North 
Carolina. Those stationed in the seaport towns numbered in 
all another 20,000, so that if every available soldier had been 
brought up Lee could have opposed a total of but 83,000 men 
against the 284,000 invaders. 

In the West the numbers were more equally balanced. General 
Sherman, who commanded the army of invasion there, had un- 
der his orders 230,000 men, but as more than half this force 
was required to protect the long lines of communication and 
to keep down the conquered States, he was able to bring 
into the field for offensive operations 99,000 men, who were 
faced by the Confederate army under Johnston of 58,000 men. 
Grant's scheme was, that while the armies of the North were, 
under his own command, to march against Richmond, the army 
of the West was to invade Georgia and march upon Atalanta. 

His plan of action was simple, and was afterwards stated 
by himself to be as follows: — "I determined first to use the 
greatest number of troops practicable against the main force 
of the enemy, preventing him from using the same force at 
different seasons against first one and then another of our 
armies, and the possibility of repose for refitting and produc- 
ing necessary supplies for carrying on resistance. Second, to 
hammer continuously against the armed force of the enemy 
and his resources until, by mere attrition if in no other way, 
there should be nothing left to him but submission." 

This was a terrible programme, and involved an expenditure 
of life far beyond anything that had taken place. Grant's plan, 
in fact, was to fight and to keep on fighting, regardless of his 
own losses, until at last the Confederate army, whose losses 
could not be replaced, melted away.. It was a strategy that few 
generals have dared to practise, fewer still to acknowledge. 

On the 4th of May the great army of the Potomac crossed the 
Rapidan and advanced towards Chancellorsville. Lee moved 

To face p. SIS. 


two divisions of his army to oppose them. Next morning the 
battle began at daybreak on the old ground where Lee had 
defeated Hooker the year before. All day long the division of 
Ewell supported the attack of the army corps of Sedgwick and 
Hancock. Along a front of six miles, in the midst of the thick 
forest, the battle raged the whole of the day. The Confederates, 
in spite of the utmost efforts of the Northerners, although rein- 
forced in the afternoon by the army corps of General Burnside, 
held their position, and when night put an end to the conflict 
the invaders had not gained a foot of ground. 

As soon as the first gleam of light appeared in the morning 
the battle recommenced. The Federal generals, Sedgwick, 
Warren, and Hancock, with Burnside in reserve, fell upon Hill 
and Ewell. Both sides had thrown up earthworks and felled 
trees as a protection during the night. At first the Confeder- 
ates gained the advantage; but a portion of Burnside's corps 
was brought up and restored the battle, while on the left flank 
of the Federals Hancock had attacked with such vigour that 
the Confederates opposed to him were driven back. 

At the crisis of the battle, Longstreet, who had marched all 
night, appeared upon the ground, drove back Hancock's men, 
and was on the point of aiding the Confederates in a decisive 
attack upon the enemy, when, riding rapidly forward into the 
wood to reconnoitre, he was, like Jackson, struck down by the 
fire of his own men. He was carried to the rear desperately, 
and it was feared for a time mortally, wounded; and his loss 
paralysed the movement which he had prepared. Nevertheless 
during the whole day the fight went on with varying success, 
sometimes one side obtaining a slight advantage, the other then 
regaining the ground they had lost. 

Just as evening was closing in a Georgia brigade, with two 
other regiments, made a detour, and fell furiously upon two 
brigades of the enemy, and drove them back in headlong rout 


for a mile and a half, capturing their two generals and many 
prisoners. The artillery, as on the previous day, had been 
little used on either side, the work being done at short range 
with the rifle, the loss being much heavier among the thick 
masses of the Northerners than in the thinner lines of the Con- 
federates. Grant had failed in his efforts to turn Lee's right 
and to accomplish his direct advance ; he therefore changed his 
base and moved his army round towards Spotsylvania. 

Lee soon perceived his object, and succeeded in carrying his 
army to Spotsylvania before the Federals reached it. 

On the afternoon of Monday, the 9th, there was heavy fight- 
ing, and on the 10th another pitched battle took place. This 
time the ground was more open, and the artillery was employed 
with terrible effect on both sides. It ended, however, as the 
previous battles had done by the Confederates holding their 

Upon the next day there was but little fighting. In the 
night the Federals moved quietly through the wood, and at 
daybreak four divisions fell upon Johnston's division of Ewell's 
corps, took them completely by surprise, and captured the 
greater part of them. 

But Lee's veterans soon recovered from their surprise and 
maintained their position until noon. Then the whole Federal 
army advanced, and the battle raged till nightfall terminated 
the struggle, leaving Lee in possession of the whole line he had 
held, with the exception of the ground lost in the morning. 

For the next six days the armies faced each other, worn out 
by incessant fighting, and prevented from moving by the heavy 
rain which fell incessantly. They were now able to reckon up 
the losses. The Federals found that they had lost, in killed, 
wounded, or missing, nearly 30,000 men; while Lee's army 
was diminished by about 12,000. 

While these mighty battles had been raging the Federal 


cavalry under Sheridan had advanced rapidly forward, and, 
after several skirmishes with Stuart's cavalry, penetrated within 
the outer intrenchments round Richmond. Here Stuart with 
two regiments of cavalry charged them and drove them back, 
but the gallant Confederate officer received a wound that be- 
fore night proved fatal. His loss was a terrible blow to the 
Confederacy, although his successor in the command of the 
cavalry, General Wade Hampton, was also an officer of the 
highest merit. 

In the meantime General Butler, who had at Fort Monroe 
under his command two corps of infantry, 4000 cavalry, and 
a fleet of gunboats and transports, was threatening Eichmond 
from the east. Shipping his men on board the transports he 
steamed up the James River, under convoy of the fleet, and 
landed on a neck of land known as Burmuda Hundred. To 
oppose him all the troops from North Carolina had been brought 
up, the whole force amounting to 19,000 men, under the com- 
mand of General Beauregard. Butler, after various futile 
movements, was driven back again to his intrenched camp at 
Burmuda Hundred, where he was virtually besieged by Beau- 
regard with 10,000 men, the rest of that general's force being 
sent up to reinforce Lee. 

In Western Virginia, Breckenridge, with 3500 men, was 
called upon to hold in check Sigel, with 15,000 men. Advanc- 
ing to Staunton, Breckenridge w^as joined by the pupils of the 
military college at Lexington, 250 in number, lads of from 14 
to 17 years of age. He came upon Sigel on the line of march, 
and attacked him at once. The Federal general placed a bat- 
tery in a wood and opened fire with grape. The commander 
of the Lexington boys ordered them to charge, and, gallantly 
rushing in through the heavy fire, they charged in among the 
guns, killed the artillerymen, drove back the infantry supports, 
and bayoneted their colonel. The Federals now retired down 

(538) X 


the valley to Strasburg, and Breckenridge was able to send a 
portion of his force to aid Lee in his great struggle. "^ 

After his six days' pause in front of Lee's position at Spot- 
sylvania, Grant abandoned his plan of forcing his way through 
Lee's army to Richmond, and endeavoured to outflank it; but 
Lee again divined his object, and moved round and still faced 
hiuL After various movements the armies again stood face 
to face upon the old battle-grounds on the Chickahominy. On 
the 3d of June the battle commenced at half-past four in the 
morning. Hancock at first gained an advantage, but Hill's di- 
vision dashed down upon him and drove him back with great 
slaughter; while no advantage was gained by them in other 
parts of the field. The Federal loss on this day was 13,000, 
and the troops were so dispirited that they refused to renew 
the battle in the afternoon. 

Grant then determined to alter his plan altogether, and 
sending imperative orders to Butler to obtain possession of 
Petersburg, embarked Smith's corps in transports, and moved 
with the rest of his army to join that general there. Smith's 
corps entered the James Eiver, landed, and marched against 
Petersburg. Beauregard had at Petersburg only two infantry 
and two cavalry regiments under General Wise, while a single 
brigade fronted Butler at Burmuda Hundred. With this hand- 
ful of men he was called upon to defend Petersburg and to 
keep Butler bottled up in Burmuda Hundred until help could 
reach him from Lee. He telegraphed to Richmond for all the 
assistance that could be sent to him, and was reinforced by a 
brigade, which arrived just in time, for Smith had already cap- 
tured a portion of the intrenchments, but was now driven out. 

The next day Beauregard was attacked both by Smith's and 
Hancock's corps, which had now arrived. With 8000 men he 
kept at bay the assaults of two whole army corps, having in 
the meantime sent orders to Gracie, the ofl&cer in command 


of the brigade before Butler, to leave a few sentries there to 
deceive that general, and to march with the rest of his force to 
his aid. It arrived at a critical moment. Overwhelmed by 
vastly superior numbers, many of the Confederates had left 
their posts, and Breckenridge was in vain trying to rally them 
when Grade's brigade came up. The position was reoccupied 
and the battle continued. 

At noon Burnside with his corps arrived and joined the 
assailants; while Butler, discovering at last that the troops in 
front of him were withdrawn, moved out and barred the road 
against reinforcements from Eichmond. Nevertheless the Con- 
federates held their ground all the afternoon and until eleven 
o'clock at night, when the assault ceased. 

At midnight Beauregard withdrew his troops from the de- 
fences that they were too few to hold, and set them to work to 
throw up fresh intrenchments on a shorter line behind. All 
night the men worked with their bayonets, canteens, and any 
tools that came to hand. 

It was well for them that the enemy were so exhausted that 
it was noon before they were ready to advance again, for by 
this time help was at hand. Anderson, who had succeeded to 
the command of Longstreet's corps, and was leading the van of 
Lee's army, forced his way through Butler's troops and drove 
him back into the Burmuda Hundred, and leaving one brigade 
to watch him marched with another into Petersburg just as the 
attack was recommenced. Thus reinforced Beauregard success- 
fully defeated all the assaults of the enemy until night fell. 
Another Federal army corps came up before morning, and the 
assault was again renewed, but the defenders, who had strength- 
ened their defences during the night, drove their assailants back 
with terrible loss. The whole of Lee's army now arrived, and 
the rest of Grant's army also came up, and that general found 
that after all his movements his way to Eichmond was barred 


as before. He was indeed in a far worse position than when 
he had crossed the Rapidan, for the morale of his army was 
much injured by the repeated repulses and terrible losses it had 
sustained. The new recruits that had been sent to fill up the 
gaps were far inferior troops to those with which he had com- 
menced the campaign. To send forward such men against the 
fortifications of Petersburg manned by Lee's veteran troops was 
to court defeat, and he therefore began to throw up works 
for a regular siege. 

Fighting went on incessantly between the outposts, but only 
one great attempt was made during the early months of the 
siege to capture the Confederate position. The miners drove 
a gallery under the works, and then drove other galleries right 
and left under them. These were charged with eight thousand 
pounds of powder. When all was ready, masses of troops 
were brought up to take advantage of the confusion which 
would be caused by the explosion, and a division of black 
troops were to lead the assault. At a quarter to five in the 
morning of the 30th of July the great mine was exploded, 
blowing two guns, a battery, and its defenders into the air, and 
forming a huge pit two hundred feet long and sixty feet wide. 
Lee and Beauregard hurried to the scene, checked the panic 
that prevailed, brought up troops, and before the great Federal 
columns approached the breech the Confederates were ready to 
receive them. The assault was made with little vigour, the 
approaches to the breech were obstructed by abattis, and 
instead of rushing forward in a solid mass they occupied the 
great pit, and contented themselves with firing over the edge 
of the crater, where regiments and divisions were huddled 
together. But the Confederate batteries were now manned, and 
from the works on either side of the breech, and from behind, 
they swept the approaches, and threw shell among the crowded 
mass. The black division was now brought up, and entered the 


crater, but only added to the confusion. There was no officer 
of sufficient authority among the crowded mass there to 
assume the supreme command. No assistance could be sent to 
them, for the arrival of fresh troops would but have added to the 
confusion. All day the conflict went on, the Federals lining the 
edge of the crater, and exchanging a heavy musketry fire with 
the Confederate infantry, while the mass below sufi'ered terribly 
from the artillery fire. When night closed, the survivors of the 
great column that had marched forward in the morning, con- 
fident that victory was assured to them, and that the explosion 
would lay Petersburg open to capture, made their retreat, 
the Confederates, however, taking a considerable number of 
prisoners. The Federal loss in killed, wounded, and captured 
was admitted by them to be 4000 ; the Confederate accounts 
put it down at 6000. 

After this terrible repulse it was a long time before Grant 
again renewed active operations, but during the months that 
ensued his troops suffered very heavily from the eff'ects of fever, 
heightened by the discouragement they felt at their want of 
success, and at the tremendous losses they had sufi'ered since 
they entered Virginia on their forward march to Eichmond. 




flNOENT WINGFIELD had had an arduous time of 
it with his squadron of cavalry. He had taken part 
in the desperate charge that checked the advance 
of Sheridan's great column of cavalry, which ap- 
proached within three miles of Richmond, the charge that had 
cost the gallant Stuart his life; and the death of his beloved 
general had been a heavy blow for him. Jackson and Stuart, 
two of the bravest and noblest spirits of the Confederate army, 
were gone. Both had been personally dear to Vincent, and he 
felt hoAv grievous was their loss to the cause for which he was 
fighting; but he had little time for grief. The enemy, after the 
tremendous battles of the Wilderness, swung their army round 
to Cold Harbor, and Vincent's squadron was called up to aid 
Lee in his struggle there. Then they were engaged night and 
day in harassing the enemy as they marched down to take up 
their new base at Petersburg, and finally received orders to 
ride round at full speed to aid in the defence of that place. 

They had arrived in the middle of the second day's fighting, 
and dismounting his men Vincent had aided the hard-pressed 
Confederates in holding their lines till Longstreet's division 
arrived to their assistance. A short time before the terrible 
disaster that befell the Federals in the mine they exploded 
under the Confederate works, he was with General Wade 


Hampton, who had succeeded General Stuart in the command 
of the cavalry, when General Lee rode up. 

" They are erecting siege works in earnest," General Lee said. 
" I do not think that we shall have any more attacks for the 
present. I wish I knew exactly where they are intending to 
place their heavy batteries. If I did we should know where to 
strengthen our defences and plant our counter batteries. It is 
very important to find this out; but now that their whole army 
has settled down in front of us, and Sheridan's cavalry are 
scouring the woods, we shall get no news, for the farmers will 
no longer be able to get through to tell us what is going on." 

" I will try and ride round, if you like, general," Vincent said. 
" By making a long detour one could get into the rear of their 
lines and pass as a farmer going into camp to sell his goods." 

"It would be a very dangerous service, sir," General Lee 
said. " You know what the consequence would be if you were 

"I know the consequence," Vincent said; "but I do not 
think, sir, that the risk is greater than one runs every time one 
goes into battle." 

"Perhaps not," General Lee re2)lied; "but in one case one 
dies fighting for one's country by an honourable death, in the 
other — " and he stopped. 

" In the other one is shot in cold blood," Vincent said quietly. 
" One dies for one's country in either case, sir; and it does not 
much matter, so far as I can see, whether one is killed in battle 
or shot in cold blood. As long as one is doing one's duty, one 
death is surely as honourable as the other." 

"That is true enough," General Lee said, "although it is 
not the way men generally view the matter. Still, sir, if you 
volunteer for the work, I do not feel justified in refusing the 
opportunity of acquiring information that may be of vital con- 
sequence to us. When will you start?" 


" In half an hour, sir. I shall ride back to Eichmond, obtain 
a disguise there, and then go round by train to Burksville Junc- 
tion, and then ride again until I get round behind their lines. 
Will you give me an order for my horse and myself to be 

"Very well, sir," General Lee said. "So be it. May God 
be with you on your way and bring you safely back." 

Vincent rode off to his quarters. 

"Dan," he said, "I am going away on special duty for at 
least three days. I have got a couple of letters to write, and 
shall be ready to start in half an hour. Give the horse a good 
feed and have him at the door again by that time." 

"Am I to go with you, sah?" 

"No, Dan; I must go by myself this time." 

Dan felt anxious as he went out, for it was seldom that his 
master ever went away without telling him where he was going, 
and he felt sure that the service was one of unusual danger; nor 
was his anxiety lessened when at the appointed time Vincent 
came out and handed him two letters. 

"You are to keep these letters, Dan, until I return, or till 
you hear that something has happened to me. If you hear 
that, you are to take one of these letters to my mother, and 
take the other yourself to Miss Kingston. Tell her before you 
give it her what has happened as gently as you can. As for 
yourself, Dan, you had your letters of freedom long ago, and 
I have left you five hundred dollars; so that you can get a 
cabin and patch of your own, and settle down when these 
troubles are over." 

"Let me go with you, master," Dan said, with the tears 
streaming down his cheeks. "I would rather be killed with 
you a hundred times than get on without you." 

" I would take you if I could, Dan; but this is a service that 
I must do alone. Good-bye, my boy; let us hope that in three 


or four days at the outside I shall be back here again safe and 

He wrung Dan's hand, and then started at a canter and kept 
on at that pace until he reached Richmond. A train with 
stores was starting for the south in a few minutes; General 
Lee's order enabled Vincent to have a horse-box attached at 
once, and he was soon speeding on his way. He alighted at 
Burks ville Junction, and there purchased some rough clothes 
for himself and some country-fashioned saddlery for his horse. 
Then, after changing his clothes at an inn and putting the 
fresh saddlery on his horse, he started. 

It was getting late in the afternoon, but he rode on by un- 
frequented roads, stopping occasionally to inquire if any of the 
Federal cavalry had been seen in the neighbourhood, and at 
last stopped for the night at a little village inn. As soon as it 
was daybreak he resumed his journey. He had purchased at 
Burksville some coloured calico and articles of female clothing, 
and fastened the parcel to the back of his saddle. As he rode 
forward now he heard constant tales of the passing of parties 
of the enemy's cavalry, but he was fortunate enough to get 
well round to the rear of the Federal lines before he encountered 
any of them. Then he came suddenly upon a troop. 

"Where are you going to, and where have you come 

" Our farm is a mile away from Union Grove," he said, "and 
I have been over to Sussex Court House to buy some things 
for my mother." 

"Let me see what you have got there," the officer said. 
" You are rebels to a man here, and there's no trusting any of 


Vincent unfastened the parcel and opened it. The officer 

"Well, we won't confiscate them as contraband of war." 


So saying he set spurs to his horse and galloped on with his 
troop. Vincent rode on to Union Grove, and then taking a road 
at random kept on till he reached a small farmhouse. He 
knocked at the door, and a woman came out. 

" Mother," he said, " can you put me up for a couple of days? 
T am a stranger here, and all the villages are full of soldiers." 

The woman looked at him doubtfully. 

" What are you doing here ?" she asked at last, " This ain't 
a time for strangers ; besides a young fellow like you ought to 
be ashamed to show yourself when you ought to be over there 
with Lee. My boys are both there and my husband. You 
ought to be ashamed of yourself, a strong-looking young fellow 
like you, to be riding about instead of fighting the Yankees. 
Go along! you will get no shelter here. I would scorn to have 
such as you inside my doors." 

*' Perhaps I have been fighting there," Vincent said signifi- 
cantly. " But one can't be always fighting, and there are other 
things to do sometimes. For instance, to find out what the 
Yankees are doing and what are their plans." 

"Is that so?" the woman asked doubtfully. 

"That is so," he answered earnestly. "I am an officer in 
Wade Hampton's cavalry, and, now Sheridan's troopers have 
cut off all communication, I have come out to find for General 
Lee where the Yankees are building their batteries before 

"In that case you are welcome," the woman said. "Come 
straight in. I will lead your horse out and fasten him up in 
the bush, and give him a feed there. It will never do to put 
him in the stable; the Yankees come in and out and they'd 
take him off sharp enough if their eyes fell on him. I think 
you will be safe enough even if they do come. They will take 
you for a son of mine, and if they ask any questions I will 
answer them sharp enough." 


" I wonder they have left you a feed of corn," Vincent said, 
when the woman returned after taking away his horse. 

"It's no thanks to them," she answered; "they have cleared 
out everything that they could lay their hands on. But I have 
been expecting it for months, and, as I have had nothing to do 
since my man and boys went away, I have been digging a great 
pit in the wood over there, and have buried most all my corn, 
and have salted my pigs down and buried them in barrels; so they 
didn't find much. They took the old horse and two cows; but 
I hope the old horse will fall down the first time they uses him, 
and the cow meat will choke them as eats it. Now, is there 
anything as I can do to help youV 

" I want a basket with some eggs and chickens or vegetables 
to take into their camp to sell, but I am afraid I have not much 
chance of getting them." 

" I can help you there too," the woman said. " I turned all 
my chickens into the wood the day I heard the Yankees had 
landed. They have got rather wild like; but I go out and 
give them some corn every evening. I expect if we look about 
we shall find some nests; indeed I know there are one or two 
of them sitting. So if you will come out with me we can 
soon knock down five or six of the creatures, and maybe get 
a score or two of eggs. As for vegetables, a horde of locusts 
couldn't have stripped the country cleaner than they have 

They went out into the wood. Six hens were soon killed, 
and hunting about they discovered several nests and gathered 
about three dozen eggs. Vincent aided in plucking the chickens 
and they then returned to the house. 

" You had best take a bite before you go," she said. " It's 
noon now, and you said you started at daybreak. Always get 
a meal when you can, say I." 

She produced a loaf and some bacon from a little cupboard 


hidden by her bed, and Vincent, who, now he thought of it, 
was feeling hungry, made a hearty meal. 

"I will pay you for these chickens and eggs at once," he 
said. "There no saying whether I shall come back again." 

" I will not say no to your paying for the chickens and eggs," 
she said, "because money is scarce enough, and I may have 
long to wait before my man and the boys came back; but as to 
lodging and food I would not touch a cent. You are welcome 
to all I have when it's for the good cause." 

Vincent started with the basket on his arm, and after walking 
three miles came upon the Federal camps. 

Some of the regiments were already under canvas, others 
were still bivouacked in the open air, as the store-ships carrying 
the heavy baggage had not yet arrived. The generals and their 
staffs had taken up their quarters in the villages. Vincent had 
received accurate instructions from his hostess as to the posi- 
tion of the various villages, and avoided them carefully, for 
he did not want to sell out his stock immediately. He had 
indeed stowed two of the fowls away in his pocket, so that in 
case anyone insisted upon buying up all his stock he could 
place these in his basket and still push on. 

He avoided the camps as much as he could. He could see 
the smoke rising in front of him, and the roar of guns was 
now close at hand. He saw on his right an elevated piece of 
ground, from which a good view could be obtained of the forti- 
fications upon which the Federals were working. A camp had 
been pitched there, and a large tent near the summit showed 
that some ofiicer of superior rank had his quarters there. He 
made a detour so as to come up at the back of the hill, and 
when he reached the top he stood looking down upon the line 
of works. 

They were nearly half a mile distant. The intervening ground 
had already been stripped of its hedges, and the trees cut down to 


form gabions, fascines, and platforms for the cannon. Thousands 
of men were at work; but in some parts they were clustered 
much more thickly than in others, and Vincent had no diffi- 
culty in determining where the principal batteries were in 
course of construction along this portion of the position. He 
was still gazing intently when two horsemen rode up from 

"Hallo you, sir! What are you looking at?" one of them 
asked sharply. "What are you spying about here?" 

Vincent turned slowly round with a silly smile on his lips. 

" I am spying all them chaps at work," he said. " It reminds 
me for all the world of an ant-hill. Never did see so many 
chaps before. What be they a-doing ? Digging a big drain or 
making a roadway, I guess." 

"Who are you, sir?" the officer asked angrily. 

" Seth Jones I be, and mother's sent me to sell some fowls 
and eggs. Do you want to buy any ? Fine birds they be." 

" Why, Sheridan," laughed the other officer, " this is a feather 
out of your cap. I thought your fellows had cleared out every 
hen-roost within twenty miles of Petersburg already." 

" I fancy they have emptied most of them," the general said 
grimly. "Where do you come from, lad?" 

" I comes from over there," Vincent said, jerking his thumb 
back. " I lives there with mother. Father and the other boys 
they have gone fighting Yanks; but they wouldn't take me 
with them 'cause I ain't sharp in my wits, though I tells them 
I could shoot a Yank as well as they could if they showed 

"And who do you suppose all those men are?" General 
Sheridan asked, pointing towards the trenches. 

"I dunno," Vincent replied. "I guess they be niggers. 
There be too many of them for whites; besides whites ain't 
such fools to work like that. Doesn't ye want any fowl?" 


and he drew back the cloth and showed the contents of the 

"Take them as a matter of curiosity, general," the other 
officer laughed. " It will be downright novelty to you to buy 

"What do you want for them, boyf 

" Mother said as I wasn't to take less nor a dollar a piece." 

"Greenbacks, I suppose?" the officer asked. 

"I suppose so. She didn't say nothing about it; but I has 
not seen aught but greenbacks for a long time since." 

" Come along, then," the officer said; "we will take them." 

They rode up to the large tent, and the officers alighted, and 
gave their horses to two of the soldiers. 

" Give your basket to this soldier." 

" I want the basket back again. Mother would whop me if 
I came back without the basket again." 

"All right," the officer said; "you shall have it back in a 

Vincent stood looking anxiously after the orderly. 

" Do you think that boy is as foolish as he seems? " General 
Sheridan asked his companion. " He admits that he comes of 
a rebel family." 

"I don't think he would have admitted that if he hadn't 
been a fool. I fancy he is a half-witted chap. They never 
would have left a fellow of his age behind." 

"No, I think it's safe," Sheridan said; "but one can't be 
too particular just at present. See, the trees in front hide our 
work altogether from the rebels, and it would be a serious 
thing if they were to find out what we are doing." 

" That boy could not tell them much even if he got there," 
the other said; "and from this distance it would need a sharp 
eye and some military knowledge to make out anything of what 
is going on. Where does your mother live, boy?" 


" I ain't going to tell you," Vincent said doggedly. *' Mother 
said I wasn't to tell no one where I lived, else the Yankee 
thieves would be a-coming down and stealing the rest of our 

The officers laughed. 

"Well, go along, boy; and I should advise you not to say 
anything about Yankee thieves another time, for likely enough 
you will get a broken head for your pains." 

Vincent went off grumbling, and with a slow and stumbling 
step made his way over the brow of the hill and down through 
the camps behind. Here he sold his last two fowls and his 
eggs, and then walked briskly on until he reached the cottage 
from which he had started. 

"I am glad to see you back," the woman said as he entered. 
" How have you got on?" 

" Capitally," he said. " I pretended to be half an idiot, and 
so got safely out, though I fell into Sheridan's hands. He 
suspected me at first, but at last he thought I was what I 
looked — a fool. He wanted to know where you lived, but I 
wouldn't tell him. I told him you told me not to tell anyone, 
'cause if I did the Yankee thieves would be clearing out the 
rest of the chickens." 

"Did you tell him that, now'?" the woman said in delight; 
"he must have thought you was a fool. Well, it's a good 
thing the Yanks should hear the truth sometimes. Well, have 
you done nowT' 

"No, I have only seen one side of their works yet; I must 
try round the other flank to-morrow. I wish I could get 
something to sell that wouldn't get bought up by the first 
people I came to, something I could peddle among the 

"What sort of thing r' 

" Something in the way of drinks, I should say," Vincent 


said. " I saw a woman going among the camps. She had 
two tin cans and a little mug. I think she had lemonade or 
something of that sort." 

"It wouldn't be lemonade," the woman said. "I haven't 
seen a lemon for the last two years; but they do get some 
oranges from Florida. Maybe it was that, or perhaps it was 
spirits and water." 

"Perhaps it was," Vincent agreed; ''though I don't think 
they would let anyone sell spirits in the camp." 

"I can't get you any lemons or oranges neither," the woman 
said; "but I might make you a drink out of molasses and 
herbs, with some spirits in it. I have got a keg of old rye 
buried away ever since my man went off, six months ago; 
I am out of molasses, but I daresay I can borrow some from a 
neighbour, and as for herbs they are about the only thing the 
Yankees haven't stole. I think I could fix you up something 
that would do. As long as it has got spirits in it, it don't 
much matter what you put in besides, only it wouldn't do to 
take spirits up alone. You can call it plantation drink, and I 
don't suppose anyone will ask too closely what it's made of." 

"Thank you, that will do capitally," 

The next morning Vincent again set out, turning his steps 
this time towards the right flank of the Federal position. He 
had in the course of the evening made a sketch of the ground 
he had seen, marking in all the principal batteries, with notes 
as to the number of guns for which they seemed to be 

"Look here," he said to the woman before leaving. "I may 
not be as lucky to-day as I was yesterday. If I do not come 
back to-night, can you find anyone you can trust to take this 
piece of paper round to Kichmond'? Of course he would have 
to make his way first up to Burksville junction, and then take 
train to Eichmond. When he gets there he must go down to 


Petersburg, and ask for General Lee. I have written a line to 
go with it, saying what I have done this for, and asking the 
general to give the bearer a hundred dollars." 

"I will take it myself," the woman said; "not for the sake 
of the hundred dollars, though I ain't saying as it wouldn't 
please the old man when he comes back to find I had a hun- 
dred dollars stored away; but for the cause. My men are all 
doing their duty, and I will do mine. So you trust me, and if 
you don't come back by daybreak to-morrow morning, I will 
start right away with these letters. I will go out at once and 
hide them somewhere in case the Yanks should come and make 
a search. If you are caught they might, like enough, trace you 
here, and then they would search the place all over and maybe 
set it alight. If you ain't here by nightfall I shall sleep out in 
the wood, so if they come they won't find me here. If any- 
thing detains you, and you ain't back till after dark, you will 
find me somewhere near the tree where your horse is tied 

Provided with a large can full of a liquor that the woman 
compounded, and which Vincent, on tasting, found to be by no 
means bad, he started from the cottage. Again he made his 
way safely through the camps, and without hindrance lounged 
up to a spot where a large number of men belonging to one of 
the negro regiments were at work. 

"Plantation liquor?" he said, again assuming a stupid air, 
to a black sergeant who was with them. " First-rate stuff, and 
only fifteen cents a glass." 

"What plantation liquor like?" the negro asked. "Me not 
know him." 

"First-rate stufi"," Vincent repeated. "Mother makes it 
of spirit and molasses and all sorts. Fifteen cents a glass." 

" Well, I will take a glass," the sergeant said. " Mighty hot 
work dis in de sun; but don't you say nuffin about the spirit. 

(538) Y 


Ef. dey ask you, just you say molasses and all sorts, dats quite 
enough. De white officer won't let spirits be sold in de camp. 

"Dat bery good stuff"," he said, smacking his lips as he 
handed back the little tin measure. " You sell him all in no 
time." Several of the negroes now came round, and Vincent 
disposed of a considerable quantity of his plantation liquor. 
Then he turned to go away, for he did not want to empty his 
can at one place. He had not gone many paces when a party 
of three or four officers came along. 

"Hallo, you sir, what the deuce are you doing here?" one 
asked angrily. " Don't you know nobody is allowed to pass 
through the lines." 

"I didn't see no lines. What sort of lines are they? No 
one told me nothing about lines. My mother sent me out to 
sell plantation liquor, fifteen cents a glass." 

"What's it like ? " one of the officers said laughing. "Spirits, 
I will bet a dollar, in some shape or other. Pour me out a 
glass. I will try it, anyhow." 

Vincent filled the little tin muc? and handed it to the 
officer. As he lifted his face to do so there was a sudden 

" Vincent Wingfield ! " and another officer drawing his sword 
attacked him furiously, shouting, "A spy! Seize him! A Con- 
federate spy!" 

Vincent recognized with astonishment in the Federal officer 
rushing at him with u^^lifted sword his old antagonist, Jack- 
son. Almost instinctively he whirled the can, which was 
still half full of liquor, round his head and dashed it full in 
the face of his antagonist, who was knocked off his feet by 
the blow. With a yell of rage he started up again and rushed 
at Vincent. The latter snatched up a shovel that was lying 
close by and stood his ground. The officers were so surprised 
at the suddenness of the incident and the overthrow of their 



companion, and for the moment so amused at the latter's 
appearance, covered as he was from head to foot with the sticky- 
liquor and bleeding from a cut inflicted by the edge of the 
can, that they were incapable of interference. 

Blinded with rage, and with the liquid streaming into his 
eyes, Jackson rushed at Vincent. The latter caught the blow 
aimed at him on the edge of the shovel, and then swinging 
his weapon round smote his antagonist with all his strength, the 
edge of the shovel falling fairly upon his head. Without a 
cry the traitor fell dead in his tracks. The other officers now 
drew their swords and rushed forward. Vincent, seeing the 
futility of resistance, threw down his shovel. He was instantly- 

"Hallo there!" the senior officer called to the men, who had 
stopped in their work and were gazing at the sudden fray that 
had arisen, "a sergeant and four men." Four of the negro 
soldiers and a sergeant at once stepped forward. " Take this 
man and conduct him to the village. Put him in a room, 
and stay there with him. Do you, sergeant, station yourself at 
the door, so that I shall know where to find you. Put on your 
uniforms and take your guns." The men put on their coats, 
which they had removed while at work, shouldered their 
muskets, and took their places, two on each side of the 
prisoner. The officers then turned to examine their prostrate 

"It's all over with him," one said, stooping down; "the 
shovel has cut his skull nearly in half. Well, I fancy he was 
a bad lot. I don't believe in Southerners who come over to 
fight in our ranks ; besides he was at one time in the rebel 

"Yes, he was taken prisoner," another said. "Then his 
father, who had to bolt from the South, because, he said, of his 
Northern sympathies, but likely enough for something else. 


came round, made interest somehow and got his son released, 
and then someone else got him a commission with us. He 
always said he had been obliged to fight on the other side, but 
that he had always been heart and soul for the North ; anyhow, 
he was always blackguarding his old friends. I always doubted 
the fellow. Well, there's an end of him; and anyhow he has 
done useful service at last by recognizing this spy. Fine-look- 
ing young fellow that. He called him Vincent Wingfield. I 
seem to remember the name; perhaps I have read it in some 
of the rebel newspapers we got hold of; likely enough some- 
one will know it. Well, I suppose we had better have Jackson 
carried into camp." 

Four more of the negroes were called out, and these carried 
the body into the camp of his regiment. An officer was also 
sent from the working party to report the capture of a spy to 
his colonel. 

"I will report it to the general," the latter said; "he rode 
along here about a quarter of an hour ago, and may not be 
back again for some hours. As we have got the spy fast it 
cannot make any difference." 

As he was marched back to the village Vincent felt that 
there was no hope for him whatever. He had been denounced 
as a spy, and although the lips that had denounced him had 
been silenced for ever, the mischief had been done. He could 
give no satisfactory account of himself. He thought for a 
moment of declaring that a mistake had been made, but he felt 
that no denial would counterbalance the effect of Jackson's 
words. The fury, too, with which the latter had attacked him 
would show plainly enough that his assailant was absolutely 
certain as to his identity, and even that there had been a per- 
sonal feud between them. Then he thought that if he said that 
he was the son of the woman in the hut she would bear him 
out in the assertion. But it was not likely that this would be 


accepted as against Jackson's testimony; besides, inquiry among 
her neighbours would certainly lead to the discovery that she 
was speaking an untruth, and might even involve her in his 
fate as his abettor. But most of all he decided against this 
course because it would involve the telKng of a lie. 

Vincent considered that while in disguise, and doing important 
service for his country, he was justified in using deceit; but 
merely for the purpose of saving his own life, and that perhaps 
uselessly, he would not lie. His fate, of course, was certain. He 
was a spy, and would be shot for it. Vincent had so often been 
in the battle-field, so often under a fire from which it seemed 
that no one could come alive, that the thought that death was 
at hand had not for him the terrors that possess those differently 
circumstanced. He was going to die for the Confederacy as 
tens of thousands of brave men had died before, and he 
rejoiced over the precaution he had taken as to the transmission 
of his discoveries on the previous day, and felt sure that 
General Lee would do full justice to his memory, and announce 
that he had died in doing noble service to the country. 

He sighed as he thought of his mother and sisters; but Eose 
had been married in the spring, and Annie Avas engaged to 
an officer in General Beauregard's staff. Then he thought of 
Lucy away in Georgia, and for the first time his lip quivered 
and his cheek paled. 

The negro guards, who had been enlisted but a few weeks, 
were wholly ignorant of their duties, and having once conveyed 
their prisoner into the room, evidently considered that all 
further necessity for military strictness was at an end. They 
had been ordered' to stay in the room with the prisoner, but 
no instructions had been given as to their conduct there. 
They accordingly placed their muskets in one corner of the 
room, and proceeded to chatter and laugh without further 
regarding him. 


Under other circumstances this carelessness would have in- 
spired Vincent with the thought of escape, but he knew that it 
was out of the question here. There were Federal camps all 
round, and a shout from the negroes would send a hundred men 
in instant pursuit of him. There was nothing for him to do but 
to wait for the end, and that end would assuredly come in the 
morning. From time to time the door opened, and the negro 
sergeant looked in. Apparently his ideas on the subject of 
discipline were no stricter than those of his men, for he made 
no remark as to their carelessness. Presently, when he looked 
in, the four soldiers were standing at the window watching a 
regiment passing by on its way to take its share of the work in 
the trenches. Vincent, who was sitting at a table, happened 
to look up, and was astonished at seeing the sergeant first put 
his finger on his lips, then take off his cap, put one hand on 
his heart, and gesticulate with the other. 

Vincent gazed at him in blank surprise, then he started and 
almost sprang to his feet, for in the Yankee sergeant he recog- 
nized Tony Morris; but the uplifted hand of the negro warned 
him of the necessity of silence. The negro nodded several 
times, again put his hand on his heart, and then disappeared. 
A thrill of hope stirred every vein in Vincent's body. He felt 
his cheeks flush and had difficulty in maintaining his passive 
attitude. He was not, then, utterly deserted; he had a friend 
who would, he was sure, do all in his power to aid him. 

It was extraordinary indeed that it should be Tony who was 
now his jailer; and yet, when he thought it over, it was not 
difficult to understand. It was natural enough that he should 
have enlisted when the black regiments were raised. He had 
doubtless heard his name shouted out by Jackson, and had, 
as Vincent now remembered, stepped forward as a sort of 
volunteer when the officer called for a sergeant and four men. 

Yes, Tony would doubtless do all in his power to save him. 


Whether it would be possible that he could do so was doubtful; 
but at least there was a ho23e, and with it the feeling of quiet 
resignation with which Vincent had faced what appeared to be 
inevitable at once disappeared, and was succeeded by a restless 
longing for action. His brain was busy at once in calculating 
the chances of his being ordered for instant execution or of the 
sentence being postponed till the following morning, and, in the 
latter case, with the question of what guard would be probably 
placed over him, and how Tony would set about the attempt 
to aid him to escape. 

Had the general been in camp when he was brought in he 
would probably have been shot at sunset, but if he did not 
return until the afternoon he would most likely order the 
sentence to be carried out at daybreak. In any case, as he was 
an officer, some time might be granted to him to prepare for 
death. Then there was the question whether he would be 
handed over to a white regiment for safe-keeping or left in the 
hands of the black regiment that had captured him. No doubt 
after the sentence was passed the white officers of that regiment 
would see that a much stricter watch than that now put over 
him was set. 

It was not probable that he would still be in charge of Tony, 
for as the latter would be on duty all day he would doubtless 
be relieved. In that case how would he manage to approach 
him, and what means would he use to direct the attention of 
the sentries in another direction 1 He thought over the plans 
that he himself would adopt were he in Tony's place. The 
first thing would be, of course, to make the sentries drunk if 
possible. This should not be a difficult task with men whose 
notions of discipline were so lax as those of the negroes; but it 
would be no easy matter for Tony to obtain spirits, for these 
were strictly prohibited in the Federal camp. Perhaps he 
might help Tony in this way. He fortunately had a small 


note-book with a pencil in his pocket, and as his guards were 
still at the window he wrote as follows : 

"I am captured by the Yankees. So far as I can see, my 
only chance of escape is to make the sentries drunk. The 
bearer is absolutely to be trusted. Give him his canteen full 
of spirits, and tell him what I have written here." 

He tore this page out, folded it up, and directed it to Mrs. 
Grossmith, Worley Farm, near Union. Presently Tony looked 
in again and Vincent held up the note. The sergeant stepped 
quickly forward and took it, and then said sharply to the men : 

" Now den, dis not keeping guard. Suppose door open and 
dis fellow run away. What dey say to you 1 Two of you keep 
your eye on dis man. Suppose Captain Pearce come in and 
find you all staring out window. He kick up nice bobbery." 

Thus admonished as to their duty, two of the negroes took 
up their muskets and stood with their backs to the door, with 
their eyes fixed on the prisoner with such earnestness that 
Vincent could not suppress a smile. The negroes grinned 

"Dis bad affair, young sah," one said; " bery bad affair. Ob 
course we soldiers ob de Union, and got to fight if dey tell us; 
but no like dis job ob keeping guard like dis." 

"It can't be helped," Vincent said; " and of course you must 
do your duty. I am not going to jump up the chimney or fly 
through the window, and as there are four of you, to say noth- 
ing of the sergeant outside, you needn't be afraid of my trying 
to escape." 

"No, sah, dat not possible nohow; we know dat bery well. 
Dat's why we no trouble to look after you. But as de sargent 
say watch, ob course we must watch. We bery pleased to see 
you kill dat white officer. Dat ofiicer bery hard man and all de 
men hate him, and when you knock him down we should like 
to hab given cheer. We all sorry for you; still you see, sah, 


we must keep watch. If you were to get away, dar no saying 
what dey do to us." 

"That's all right," Vincent said; "I don't blame you at all. 
As you say, that was a very bad fellow. I had quarrelled 
\vith him before, because he treated his slaves so badly." 



^T was not until late in the afternoon that a white 
officer entered, and ordered the soldiers to conduct 
the prisoner to the general's tent. 

" What is your name, sir, and who are youT' the 
general asked as he was brought in. " I hear that you were 
denounced by Lieutenant Jackson as being a spy, and that he 
addressed you as Vincent Wingfield. What have you got to 
say to the charge 1 " 

"My name is Vincent Wingfield, sir," Vincent replied quietly. 
" I am upon the staff of General Wade Hampton, and in pur- 
suance of my duty I came here to learn what I could of your 
movements and intentions." 

The general was silent for a moment. 

" Then, sir, as you are an officer, you must be well aware of 
the consequence of being discovered in disguise here. I regret 
that there is no course open to me but to order you to be shot 
as a spy to-morrow morning." 

One of the officers who was standing by the general here 
whispered to him. 

" Ah, yes, I remember," he said. "Are you the same officer, 
sir, who escaped from Elmira?" 

"I am, sir," Vincent replied; " and at the same time aided in 


the escape of the man who denounced me to-day, and who then 
did his best to have me arrested by sending an anonymous 
letter stating the disguise in which I was making my way 
through the country. I was not surprised to find that he had 
carried his treachery further, and was now fighting against the 
men with whom he had formerly served." 

" He deserved the fate that has befallen him," the general 
said. " Still this does not alter your position. I regret that I 
must order my sentence to be carried out." 

" I do not blame you, sir. I knew the risks I ran when I 
accepted the mission. My only regret is that I failed in sup- 
plying my general with the information they required." 

The general then turned to the officer who had brought 
Vincent up. 

" This officer will remain in charge of your men for to-night. 
Captain Pearce. You will see that the sentence is carried into 
effect at daybreak. I need not tell you that a vigilant guard 
must be placed over him." 

Vincent was again marched back to the village, but the officer 
halted the party when he arrived there. 

" Stop here a few minutes, sergeant," he said. " That room 
is required for an officer's quarters. I will look round and find 
another place." 

In a few minutes he returned, and Vincent was conducted to 
a shed standing in the garden of one of the houses. 

"Place one man on guard at the door and another behind," 
he said to the sergeant. " Let the other two relieve them, and 
change the watch once an hour," 

The sergeant saluted. 

"De men hab been on duty since daylight, sah, and none of 
us hab had any ting to eat." 

"Oh, I forgot that," the officer replied. "Very well, I will 
send another party to relieve you at once." 

348 Tony's mission. 

In ten minutes another sergeant and four men arrived at the 
spot, and Tony and his companions returned to the camp. 

As soon as Tony had devoured a piece of bread he left the 
camp, walked with careless gait through the camps behind, and 
went on until he reached a village in which were comparatively 
few soldiers. He went up to a woman who was standing at a 

" Missus," he said, " I hab got a letter to take, and I ain't 
bery sure as to de name. Will you kindly tell me what is de 
address writ on dis paper?" 

The woman looked at it. 

" Mrs. Grossmith, Worley farm, near Union. That's about 
two miles along the road. If you go on anyone will tell you 
which is Mrs. Grossmith's." 

Tony hurried on, for he wanted to get back to the camp 
before it was dark. He had no difficulty in finding Worley 

"Now then, what do you want?" its owner said sharply, as 
she opened the door in reply to his knock. "There's nothing 
for you here. You can look round if you like. Its been all 
stripped clean days ago, so I tell you." 

"Me no want any ting, ma'am. Me hab a letter for you." 

The woman in surprise took the note and opened it. She 
read it through and looked earnestly at Tony. 

" He says you are to be trusted," she said. " Is that sol" 

"I would gib my life for him twenty times over," Tony 
replied. " He got me away from a brutal master and bought 
my wife out ob slavery for me. What does he say, ma'am? 
For de Lord sake tell me. Perhaps he tell me how to get him 

The woman read out the contents of the note. 

"Dat's it, missus, sure enough; dat's the way," he exclaimed 
in delight. " Me tink and tink all day, and no manage to tink 

Tony's canteen is filled. 349 

of any ting except to shoot de sentry and fight wid de oders 
and get him out; hut den all de oder sojers come running down, 
and no chance to escape. If me can get de spirits dat's easy 
enough. Me make dem all drunk as hogs." 

" I can give you that," the woman said. " Is there anything 
else you will want? What are you going to do with him if 
you get him free? They will hunt you down Hke vermin." 

"I tought we might get doAvn to de river and get ober 
somehow. Dere will be no getting troo der cavalry. Dey will 
hab dem on every road." 

"Well, you want some clothes, anyhow; you can't go about 
in these soldier clothes. The first Yank you came across 
would shoot you for a deserter, and the first of our men as a 
traitor. Well, by the time you get back to-night, that is if you 
do come back, I will get up a chest I've got buried with my men's 
clothes in them. They didn't want to take them away to the 
war with them, so I hid them up." 

She had by this time dug up the keg from its hiding-place, 
and now filled Tony's canteen. 

" Tank you, missus; de Lord bress you for what you 've done, 
wheder I get Massa Wingfield off or wheder we bofe get killed 
ober de job. But I must get back as fast as I can. Ef it was 
dark before I got to camp dey would wonder whar I had been." 

"Oh, you have plenty of time," the woman said; "it won't 
be dark till eight o'clock, and it's not seven yet. I will set to 
and boil a good chunk of pork and bake some cakes. It's no 
use getting out of the hands of the Yanks and then going and 
getting starved in the swamps." 

Directly Tony got back to his regiment he strolled over to the 
shed where Vincent was confined. Two sentinels were on duty, 
the sergeant and the two other men were lying at full length 
on the ground some twenty yards away. Their muskets were 
beside them, and it was evident to Tony by the vigilant watch 


that they kept up on the shed that their responsibility weighed 
heavily upon them, and that Caj^tain Pearce had impressed 
upon them that if the prisoner escaped they would certainly 
be shot. 

•"Well, Sergeant John Newson," Tony began, "I hab just 
walked over to see how you getting on. It am a mighty 
'sponsible business dis. I had six hours of him, and it make 
de perspiration run down my back to tink what a job it would 
be for me if dat fellow was to run away." 

"Dat's just what dis chile feel. Sergeant Tony Morris; I am 
zactly like dat, and dat's what dese men feel too. We am all 
on guard. De captain say, put two on guard at de shed and 
let de oders relieb dem ebery hour. So dey shall; but dose 
off duty must watch just the same. AVhen it gets dark we get 
close up, so as to be ready to jump in directly we hear a stir. 
Dis fellow no fool us." 

" Dat's the way, Sergeant Newson, dat am de wslj. Neber 
close your eye, but keep a sharp look on dem. It's a pity dat 
you not in camp to-night." 

"How am dat, how am dat?" the sergeant asked. 

"To tell you de truf, sergeant, tree or four ob us hab 
smuggled in some spirits, and you are one of dose who would 
hab come in for a share of it if you had been dere." 

"Golly!" the sergeant exclaimed; "but dat is bery unfortu- 
nate. Can't you manage to bring me a little here?" 

"Well, you know, it's difficult to get out ob camp." 

"Oh, you could get through. Dere is no fear about you 
being caught." 

"I don't know," Tony replied with an air of reluctance. 
" Well, I will see about it. Ef I can crawl troo de sentries, 
and bring some for you and de oders, I will. It will help keep 
you awake and keep out de damp. 

" Dat's right down good ob you," the other said cordially. 


"You good man, Tony Morris; and if I can do as much for 
you anoder time, I do it." 

Having settled this, Tony went round to the hospital tent in 
rear of the regiment, having tied up his face with a handker- 

"Well, what is it, sergeant?" the negro, who acted as an 
orderly and sometimes helped the surgeon mix his drugs, asked. 
"De doctor am gone away, and I don't 'spect he come back 
again to-night." 

"Dat am bery bad ting," Tony said dolefully. "Can't you 
do something for me, Sam Smith ? I tink you know quite as 
much about de medicines as de doctor himself." 

"Not quite so much, sergeant, not quite so much; but I'se 
no fool, and my old mother she used to make medicine for de 
plantation and knew a heap about herbs, so it am natural dat 
I should take to it. What can I gib you"?" 

" Well, Sam, you see, sometimes I'se 'flicted dre'fful wid de 
face-ache — him just go jump, jump, jump, as ef he bust right 
up. Mose times I find de best ting am to put a little laudabun 
in my mouf, and a little on bit of rag and put him outside. 
De best ting would be for you to gib me little bottle of him; 
den when de pain come on I could jess take him, and not be 
troubling you ebery day. And Sam, jus you whisper — I got hold 
of a little good stuff. You gib me tin mug; me share what I 
hab got wid you." 

The negro grinned with delight, and going into the tent 
brought out a tin mug. 

"Dat's all right, Sam; but you hab no brought de bottle of 
laudabun too. You just fetch dat, and I gib you de spirit." 

The negro went in again, and in two minutes returned with 
a small bottle of laudanum. 

"Dat's a fair exchange," Tony said taking it, and handing to 
the man his mug half full of spirit. 


"Dat am someting like," the black said, looking with de- 
light at the liberal allowance. " Me drink him de last thing at 
night, den me go to sleep and no one 'spect nuffin'. Whereber 
you get dat spirit?" 

"Never you mind, Sam," Tony said with a grin. "Dar's 
more where dat comes from, and maybe you will get anoder 
taste ob it." 

Then after leaving the hospital tent he poured half the 
spirits away, for he had not now to depend upon the effect of 
that alone; and it were better not to give it too strong, for 
that might arouse the suspicion of the guard. Then he un- 
corked the bottle of laudanum. 

" I don't know how much to gib," he said to himself. " No 
good to kill dem. Me don't 'spect dis stuff bery strong. Dose 
rogues sell all sorts of stuff to de government. Anyting good 
enough for de soldier. Dey gib him rotten boots, and rotten 
cloth, and bad powder, and all sorts of tings. I spect dey 
gib him bad drugs too. However, me must risk it. Dis 
bottle not bery big, anyhow — won't hold more dan two or 
three teaspoon. Must risk him." 

So saying he poured the contents of the vial into the canteen, 
and then going to a water-cart filled it up. He waited until 
the camp was quiet, and then, taking off his boots and fasten- 
ing in his belt his own bayonet and that of one of the men 
sleeping near, he quietly and cautiously made his way out of 
camp. There were no sentries placed here, for there was no 
fear whatever of an attack, and he had little difficulty in 
making his way round to the back of the village to the spot where 
Vincent w^as confined. He moved so quietly that he was not 
perceived until he was within a few yards of the shed. 

"Sergeant Newson, am you dere?" 

" Bress me, what a start you hab given me, for suah ! " the 
sergeant said. " I did not hear you coming." 


"You didn't s'pose I was coming along shouting and 
whistling, Sergeant Newson? Don't you talk so loud. Dar 
am no saying who's about." 

"Hab you brought de stuff?" 

" You don't suppose I should hab come all dis way to tell 
you I hab not got it. How am de prisoner'?" 

''Oh, he's dere all right. My orders was to look in at dat little 
winder ebery five minutes, and dat when it began to get dark 
me was to tie him quite tight, and me hab done so. And one 
of de sentries goes in every five minutes and feels to see if 
de ropes are tight. He am dar, sure enough." 

"Dat's quite right, Sergeant Newson. I knew when you 
came to 'lieve me as de captain knew what he was doing when 
he choose you for dis job. He just pick out de man he con- 
siders de very best in de regiment. Now, here is de spirit; 
and fuss-rate stuff it am, too." 

"Golly, but it am strong!" the sergeant said, taking a long 
gulp at the canteen. "Dat warm de cockles ob de heart in 
no time. Yes, it am good stuff — just de ting for dis damp air. 
I hear as a lot of de white soldiers are down wid de fever 
already, and dere will be lots and lots more ef we stop here 
long. Here, you two men, take a drink of dis; but mind, you 
mustn't tell no one 'bout it. Dis a secret affair." 

The two negroes each took a long drink, and returned the 
canteen with warm expressions of approval. 

" De oder men are on duty," the sergeant said with the air 
of a man who knew his business; "dey mustn't hab none of 
it, not until dey comes off. As we are de relief, it am proper 
and right dat we drink a drop out ob a canteen ef we want 

" Quite so, Sergeant Newson," Tony said in a tone of admi- 
ration. " Dat's de way to manage dese tings — duty first and 
pleasure afterwards." 

( 538 ) Z 


"It am nearly time to relieve guard," the other said; "and 
den dey can have a drink." 

In five minutes the two soldiers relieved those on guard, and 
they also took a long drink at the canteen, to which the ser- 
geant also again applied his lips. 

"Now I must be going," Tony said. "I will leave the can- 
teen with you, sergeant. I have got some more of the stuff 
over there, and I daresay you will like another drink before 

So saying he stole away, but halted and lay down twenty 
yards distant. In ten minutes he heard the sergeant say : 

"I feel as if I could do jus five minutes' sleep. You 
keep your eyes on de shed, and ef you hear any ofiicer coming 
his rounds you wake me up." 

Tony waited another half-hour and then crawled up. The 
sergeant was lying on his back sound asleep; the two men with 
him were on their faces, with their rifles pointing towards the 
shed, as if they had dropped off to sleep whilst they were star- 
ing at it. Then he crawled on to the shed. The soldier on 
sentry at the back had grounded his musket and was leaning 
against the shed fast asleep, while the one at the door had 
apparently slid down in a sitting position and was snoring. 

" I hope I haben't given it to dem too strong," Tony said to 
himself; "but it can't be helped anyhow." 

He opened the door and entered the shed. 

"Are you awake, Marse Wingfield?" 

"Yes, I am awake, Tony. Thank God you have come! 
How did you manage it?" 

" I hab managed it, sah, and dey are all fast asleep," Tony 
said, as he cut the ropes which bound Vincent. 

" Now, sah, let's be going quick. Dar am no saying when 
dey may come round to look after de guards. Dat's what I 
hab been worrying about de last quarter ob an hour." 

FREE. 355 

Vincent sprang to his feet as the ropes fell from him, and 
grasped Tony's hand. 

" Here am a bayonet, sah. I hope we sha'n't want to use 
dem, but dar am no saying." 

They made their way cautiously across the fields till they 
approached another camp. A few sentries were walking up 
and down in front of it, but they crawled round these and 
passed through the space between the regiment and that next 
to it. Several other camps were passed; and then, when Vin- 
cent knew that they were well in rear of the whole of them 
they rose to their feet and started forward at a run. Suddenly 
Tony touched Vincent, and they both stood still. A dis- 
tant shout came through the air, followed by another and 

"I 'spect dey hab found out we have gone, sah. Dey go round 
two or tree times in de night to see dat de sentries are awake. 
Now, sah, come along." 

They were on the road now, and ran at full speed until they 
approached Union. They left the track as they neared the 
village, and as they did so they heard the sound of a horse at 
full gallop behind them. 

"That's an orderly taking the news of our escape. Sheri- 
dan's cavalry are scattered all over the country, and there are 
two squadrons at Union Grove. The whole country will be 
alive at daybreak." 

Making their way through the fields they soon struck the 
track leading to Worley Farm, and in a few minutes were at 
the door. The woman opened it at once. 

" I have been watching for you," she said, " and I am real 
glad you have got safe away. Wait a minute and I will strike 
a light." 

"You had better not do that," Vincent said. "They have 
got the alarm at Union Grove already, and if anyone caught 


sight of a light appearing in your window, it would bring them 
down here at once." 

"They can't see the house from Union," the woman said. 
"Still, perhaps it will be best. Now, sir, I can't do anything 
for you, because my men's clothes are the same sort of cut as 
yours: but here's a suit for this man." 

Thanking her warmJy Vincent handed the things to Tony. 

"Make haste and slip them on, Tony; and make your other 
things up into a bundle and bring them with you for a bit- 
We must leave nothing here, for they will search the whole 
country to-morrow. We will take the horse away too; not 
that we want it, but it would never do for it to be found 

"Will you take your letter again?" the woman asked. 

" No, I will leave it with you. It will be no use now if I 
get through, but if you hear to-morrow or next day that I am 
caught, please carry it as we arranged. What is thisT" he 
asked as the woman handed him a bundle. 

"Here are eight or ten pounds of pork," she said, "and some 
corn-cakes. If you are hiding away you will want something, 
and I reckon anyhow you won't be able to make your way to 
our people for a bit. Now, if you are ready, I will start with 

"You will start with us!" Vincent repeated in surprise. 

" Certainly I will start with you," the woman said. " How 
do you think you would be able to find your way a dark night 
like this 1 No, sir; I will put you on your way till morning. 
But, in the first place, which line do you mean to take?" 

"I do not think there is much chance of getting back the way 
we came," Vincent said. " By morning Sheridan's cavalry will 
have got a description of me, and they will be scouring the 
whole country. The only chance will be to go north and cross 
the river somewhere near Norfolk. 


" I think, sah, you better go on wid your horse at once. No 
use wait for me. I come along on foot, find my own way." 

" No, Tony, I shall certainly not do that. We will either 
get off or be taken together. Well, I think the best plan will 
be to go straight down to the river. How far is it away?" 

"About fifteen miles," the woman said. 

" If we get there we can get hold of a boat somehow, and 
either cross and then make straight for Kichmond on foot, 
or go up the river in the boat and land in the rear of our 
lines. That we can settle about afterwards. The first thing 
is to get to the river bank. We are not likely to meet with 
any interruption in that direction. Of course the cavalry are 
all on the other flank, and it will be supposed that I shall try 
either to work round that way or to make straight through the 
lines. They would hardly suspect that I shall take to the river, 
which^is covered with their transports and store-ships." 

" I think that is the best plan," the woman said. " There 
are scarce any villages between this and the river. It's only 
just when you cross the road between Petersburg and Williams- 
burg that you would be likely to meet a soul, even in the day- 
time. There is scarce even a farmhouse across this section. 
I know the country pretty well. Just stop a minute and 
I will run up to the wood and fetch down the horse. There's 
a big wood about a mile away, and you can turn him in there." 

A few minutes later they started, Vincent leading the horse 
and Tony carrying the bundle of food and his cast-ofF uniform. 
The woman led them by farm roads, sometimes turning off to 
the right or left, but keeping her way with a certainty which 
showed how w^ell she was acquainted with the country. Several 
times they could hear the dull sound of bodies of cavalry gal- 
loping along the roads; but this died away as they got further 
into the country. The horse had been turned loose a mile 
from their starting place. Vincent removed the bridle and 


saddle, saying: "He will j^ick up enough to feed on here for 
some time. When he gets tired of the wood he can work his 
way out into a clearing." 

Here Tony hid away his uniform among some thick bushes, 
and the three walked steadily along until the first tinge of day- 
light appeared on the sky. Then the woman stopped. 

" The river is not more than half a mile in front of you," she 
said; "so I will say good-bye." 

"What will you do?" Vincent asked. " You might be ques- 
tioned as you get near home." 

" I am going to put up at the last house we passed," she 
said, " about three miles back. I know the people there, and 
they will take me in. I will stop there for a day or two, 
maybe, then walk back, so I shall have a true story to tell. 
That's all right." 

Vincent said good-bye to her, with many hearty thanks for 
the services she had rendered him, and had almost to force her 
to take notes for two hundred dollars from the bundle he had 
sewn up in the lining of his coat. 

"You have saved my Hfe," he said, "and some day I hope 
to be able to do more to show my gratitude; but you must take 
this anyhow to tide you over the hard times, and find food for 
your husband and sons when they come back from the war." 

As soon as the woman had turned back Vincent and Tony 
continued on their way. The former had, as soon as they were 
fairly out from the Federal camp, told Tony in a few words 
that his wife was safe at home and their boy flourishing, and 
he now gave him further details of them. 

"And how came you to enter the army, Tony?" 

"Well, sah, dere wasn't much choice about it. De Nor- 
thern people, dey talk mighty high about der love for de negro, 
but I don't see much of it in der ways. Why, sah, dey is twice 
as scornful ob a black man as de gentleman is in de Souf. 


I list in de army, sah, because dey say dey go to Richmond, 
and den I find Dinah and de boy." 

"Well, Tony, I little thought when I did you a service that 
it would be the means of you being able to save my life some 

"Not much in dat, sah. You sabe my life, because dey 
would, for suah, hab caught me and killed me. Den you save 
my wife for me, den you pay out dat Jackson, and now you 
hab killed him. I could hab shouted for joy, sah, when I saw 
you hit him ober de head wid de shovel, and I saw dat dis 
time he gib no more trouble to no one. I should hab done 
for him bery soon, sah. I had my eye upon him, and the fust 
time we go into battle he get a ball in his back. Lucky he 
didn't see me. He not officer ob my company, and me look 
quite different in de uniform to what me was when I work on 
de plantation; but I know him, and wheneber I see him pass 
I hang down my head and I say to myself, 'My time come 
soon, Massa Jackson; my time come bery soon, and den we 
get quits.'" 

"It is wrong to nourish revenge, Tony; but I really can't 
blame you very much as to that fellow. Still, I should have 
blamed you if you had killed him— blamed you very much. 
He was a bad man, and he treated you brutally, but you see 
he has been already punished a good deal." 

"Yes, you knock him down, sah. Dat bery good, but not 
enough for Tony." 

"But that wasn't all, Tony. You see, the affair set all my 
friends against him, and his position became a very unpleasant 
one. Then, you see, if it hadn't been for you he would pro- 
bably have got through to our lines again after he had escaped 
with me. Then, you see, his father, out of revenge, stole 
Dinah away." 

"Stole Dinah!" Tony exclaimed, stopping in his walk. 


" Why, sah, you hab been telling me dat she is safe and well 
wid Mrs. Wingfield." 

" So she is, Tony. But he stole her for all that, and had her 
carried down into Carolina; but I managed to bring her back. 
It's a long story, but I will tell you about it presently. 
Then the knowledge that I had found Dinah, and the fear of 
punishment for his share of taking her away, caused old Jackson 
to fly from the country, getting less than a quarter of the sum 
his estate would have fetched two or three years ago. That 
was what made him and his son turn Unionists. So, you see, 
Jackson was heavily punished for his conduct to you, and it 
did not need for you. to revenge yourself." 

"So he was, sah, so he was," Tony said thoughtfully. "Yes, 
it does seem as if all des tings came on kinder one after de 
oder, just out ob dat flogging he gabe me; and now he has got 
killed for just de same cause, for if he hadn't been obliged to 
turn Unionist he wouldn't have been in dat dar battery at de 
time you came dere. Yes, I sees dat is so, sah; and I'se glad 
now I didn't hab a chance ob shooting him down, for I should 
have done so for suah ef I had." 

They had now reached the river. The sun was just showing 
above the horizon, and the broad sheet of water was already 
astir. Steamers were making their way up from the mouth of 
the river laden with stores for the army. Little tugs were 
hurrying to and fro. Vessels that had discharged their cargo 
were dropping down with the tide, w^hile many sailing-vessels 
lay at anchor waiting for the turn of tide to make their 
way higher up. Norfolk was, however, the base from which 
the Federal army drew the larger portion of its stores; as 
there were great conveniences for landing here, and a railway 
thence ran up to the rear of their lines. But temporary wharfs 
and stages had been erected at the point of the river nearest to 
their camps in front of Petersburg, and here the cattle and 

"it's too far to swim, sah." 361 

much of the stores required for the army were landed. At the 
point at which Vincent and Tony had struck the river the 
banks were somewhat low. Here and there were snug farms, 
with the ground cultivated down to the river. The whole 
country was open and free from trees, except where small 
patches had been left. It was in front of one of these that 
Vincent and Tony were now standing. 

"I do not think there is any risk of pursuit now-, Tony. 
This is not the line on which they will be hunting us. The 
question is — how are we to get across 1" 

"It's too far to swim, sah." 

"I should think it was," Vincent said with a laugh. "It's 
three or four miles, I should say, if it's a foot. The first ques- 
tion is — where are we to get a boat 1 I should think that some 
of these farmhouses are sure to have boats, but the chances are 
they have been seized by the Yankees long ago. Still they 
may have some laid up. The Yanks would not have made 
much search for these, though they would no doubt take all the 
larger boats for the use of the trooj^s or for getting stores ashore. 
Anyhow, I will go to the next farmhouse and ask." 

"Shalllgo, sah?" 

" No, Tony, they would probably take you for a runaway. 
No, I will go. There can be no danger. The men are all 
away, and the women are sure to be loyal. I fancy, the few 
who were the other way before will have changed their minds 
since the Yanks landed." 

They followed the bank of the river for a quarter of a mile, 
and then Vincent walked on to a small farmhouse standing on 
the slope fifty yards from the water. Two or three children 
who were playing about outside at once ran in upon seeing a 
stranger, and a moment later two women came out. They were 
somewhat reassured when they saw Vincent approaching alone. 

"What is it, stranger?" one of them asked. "Do you want 


a meal? We have got little enough to oifer you, but what 
there is you are welcome to; the Yanks have driven off our cows 
and pigs and the two horses, and have emptied the barns, and 
pulled up all the garden stuff, and stole the fowls, and carried off 
the bacon from the beams, so we have got but an empty larder. 
But as far as bread and molasses go, you are welcome." 

"Thank you," Vincent said; "I am not in want of food. 
What I am in want of is a boat." 

"Boat!" the woman repeated in surprise. 

" Yes, I want to get across to the other side, or else to get up 
the river and land between Petersburg and Bermuda." 

"Sakes ahve!" the woman exclaimed; "what do you want 
to do that for?" 

" I will tell you," Vincent replied. " I know I can trust my 
life to any woman in the Confederacy. I am one of General 
Wade Hampton's officers, and I have come through their lines 
to find out what they are doing. I have been caught once, but 
managed to slip through their hands, but there is no possibility 
of making my way back across the country, for the Yankee 
cavalry are patrolling every road, and the only chance I have is 
of getting away by boat." 

"Step right in, sir," the woman said. "It's a real pleasure 
to us to have one of our officers under our roof." 

"I have a friend with me," Vincent said; "a faithful negro, 
who has helped me to escape, and who would be hung like a 
dog if they could lay hands on him." 

"Bring him in, sir," the woman said hospitably. "I had 
four or five niggers till the Yanks came, but they all ran away 
'cause they knew they would either be set to work or made to 
fight; so they went. They said they would come back again 
when the trouble is over; maybe they will and maybe they 
won't. At first the niggers about here used to look for the 
Yanks coming, but as the news got about of what happened to 


those they took from their masters, they concluded they were 
better off where they were. Call your boy in, sir; call him in." 

Vincent gave a shout, and Tony at once came up. "Thank you, 
we don't want anything to eat," Vincent went on as the woman 
began to put some plates on the table. "We have just had a 
hearty meal, and have got enough food for three or four days 
in that bundle. But we want a boat, or, if we can't find that, 
some sailors' clothes. If I had them I would keep along the 
river down to Norfolk. The place will be full of sailors. We 
should not be likely to be noticed there." 

"I can't help you in that," the woman said; "but there are 
certainly some boats laid up along the shore. Now, Maria, 
who has got boats that haven't been taken ? " 

"I expect the Johnson's have got one," the other woman 
replied. " They had a small boat the boys and girls used to 
go out fishing in. I don't think the Yanks have got that. I 
expect they hid it away somewhere; but I don't know as they 
would let you have it. She is a close-fisted woman is Sarah 

" I could pay her for its value," Vincent said. 

" Oh, well, if you could pay her she would let you have it. 
I don't say she wouldn't, anyhow, seeing as you are an officer, 
and the Yanks are after you. Still, she is close is Sarah 
Johnson, and I don't know as she is so set on the Confederacy 
as most people. I tell you what I will do, sir. I will go down 
and say as a stranger wants to buy her boat, and no questions 
asked. She is just to show where the boat is hidden, and you 
are to pay for it and take it away when you want it." 

" That would be a very good plan," Vincent said, " if you 
wouldn't mind the trouble." 

" The trouble is nothing," she said. " Johnson's place ain't 
above a mile along the shore." 

"T will go with you until you get close to the house," 


Vincent said; "then, when you hear what she wants for the 
boat, I will give you the money for it, and you can show me 
where it is hidden." 

This was accordingly done. Mrs. Johnson, after a consider- 
able amount of bargaining with Vincent's guide, agreed to 
take twenty dollars for the boat, and upon receiving the 
money sent down one of her boys with her to show her where 
it was hidden. It was in a hole that had been scooped out in 
the steep bank some ten feet above the water's edge, and was 
completely hidden from the sight of anj'one rowing past by a 
small clump of bushes. When the boys had returned to the 
farmhouse the woman took Vincent to the spot, and they then 
went back together. 

Here he and Tony had a long talk as to whether it would 
be better to put out at once or to wait till nightfall. It was 
finally determined that it was best to make an immediate start. 
A boat rowed by two men would attract little attention. It 
might belong to any of the ships at anchor in the river, and 
might be supposed to have gone on shore to fetch eggs or 
chickens, or with a letter or a message. 

"You see, both shores are in the hands of the Yankees," 
Vincent said, " and there will not be any suspicion of a boat in 
the daytime. At night we might be hailed, and if we gave no 
answer fired upon, and that might bring a gunboat along to 
see what was the matter. No, I think it will be far best to 
go on boldly. There are not likely to be any bodies of 
Federal troops on the opposite shore except at Fortress Monroe, 
and perhaps opposite the point where they have got their 
landing below Petersburg. Once ashore we shall be safe. 
The peninsula opposite is covered with forest and swamp, 
and we shall have no difficulty in getting through however 
many troops they may have across it. You know the place 
pretty well, don't you, Tony?" 

Tony's fears. 365 

Tony nodded. " Once across, sah, all de Yank army 
wouldn't catch us. Me know ob lots ob hiding-places." 

"Them broad hats will never do," the woman said; "but I 
have got some blue nightcaps I knitted for my husband. They 
are something like the caps I have seen some sailors wear; 
anyhow, they will pass at a distance, and when you take your 
coats and vests off, them coloured flannel shirts will be just the 
right thing." 

"That will do capitally, and the sooner we are off the 
better," Vincent said, and after heartily thanking the two 
women, and bestowing a present upon each of the children, 
they started along the shore. 

The boat was soon got into the water, the oars put out, and 
they started. The tide was just low now, and they agreed to 
pull along at a short distance from the shore until it turned. 
As soon as it did so the vessels at anchor would be getting up 
sail to make up to the landing-place, and even had anyone on 
board noticed the boat put out, and had been watching it, they 
would have other things to think about. 

" It is some time since we last rowed in a boat together, 

"About three years, sah; dat time when you got me safe 
away. I had a bad fright dat day you left me, sah. It came 
on to blow bery hard, and some ob de men told me dat dey 
did not tink you would ever get back to shore. Dat made me 
awful bad, sah; and me wish ober and ober again dat me hab 
died in de forest instead ob your taking me off in a boat and 
trowing away your life. I neber felt happy again, sah, till I 
got your letter up in Canady, and knew you had got back safe 
dat day." 

"We had a narrow squeak of it, Tony, and were blown some 
distance up. We were nearly swamped a score of times, and 
Dan quite made up his mind that it was all up with us. 


However, we got through safe, and I don't think a soul, 
except perhaps Jackson and that rascally overseer of ours, 
who afterwards had a hand in carrying off your wife, and lost 
his life in consequence, ever had a suspicion we had been doing 
more than a long fishing expedition. I will tell you all about 
it when we are going through the woods. Now I think it's 
pretty nearly dead water, and we will begin to edge across." 




flNCENT directed his course so that while the boat's 
head was still pointing up the stream, and she was 
apparently moving in the same direction as the 
ships, she was gradually getting out to the middle 
of the river. Had he tried to row straight across suspicion 
might at once have been excited. In half an hour they were 
in the middle of the stream. A vessel passing under full sail 
swept along at a distance of a hundred yards, and they were 
hailed. Vincent merely waved his hand and continued his 

*' I daresay those fellows wonder what we are up to, Tony; 
but they are not likely to stop to inquire. In another quarter 
of an hour we shall be pretty safe. Ah ! there's a fellow who 
might interfere with us," he added looking round. "Do you 
see that little black thing two miles ahead of us? that's a steam 
launch. If she sees us making over she's likely enough to 
come and ask us some questions. We had better head a little 
more towards the shore now. If it comes to a race every foot 
is of importance." 

Up to now they had been rowing in an easy and leisurely 
manner, avoiding all appearance of haste. They now bent to 
their oars, and the boat began to travel a good deal faster 
through the water. Vincent glanced over his shoulder fre- 
quently at the steam launch. 


"She is keeping straight on in the middle of the channel, 
Tony; evidently she hasn't noticed us yet." 

Ten minutes after j^assing the ship he exclaimed sharply ; 

"Eow, Tony, as hard as you can; the launch has just passed 
that ship, and has changed her course. I expect the captain 
has called their attention to us. It's a race now." 

The boat, at the moment the launch changed her course, was 
rather more than half-way between the centre of the channel 
and the shore. The launch was in the centre of the channel, 
and three quarters of a mile higher up. She had evidently put 
on steam as she started to cut off the boat, for there was now 
a white wave at her bow. 

" I think we shall do it, Tony," Vincent said. " I don't 
suppose she can go above eight miles an hour, and we are 
certainly going four, and she has more than twice as far to 
travel as we have." 

Those on board the launch were evidently conscious that 
they were likely to lose the race, for in a few minutes they 
began to open fire with their rifles. 

"Fire away," Vincent said. "You ain't likely to hit us a 
thousand yards off, and we haven't another three hundred to 

The bullets whistled overhead, but none of them struck the 
water within many yards of the boat, and the launch was still 
four or five hundred yards away when the bow of the boat 
touched the shore. Several muskets Avere discharged as 
Vincent and Tony leapt out and plunged into the bushes that 
came down to the water's edge. The launch sent up a sharp 
series of whistles, and random shots were for some time fired 
into the bushes. 

" It is lucky she didn't carry a small gun in her bows," 
Vincent said; "for though seven or eight hundred yards is a 
long range for a rifle, they might likely enough have hit us if 
they had had a gun. Now, Tony, we shall have to be 

HUNTED. 369 

careful, for those whistles are no doubt meant as an alarm; and 
although she cannot tell who we are, she will probably steam 
up, and if they have any force opposite Burmuda will give 
them news that two suspicious characters have landed, and 
they will have parties out to look for us." 

"Dey can look as long as dey like, sah. Ef dose slave- 
hunters can't find people in de swamps what chance you tink 
dose soldiers have "i None at all. Dey haven't got no reward 
before dere eyes, and dey won't want to be going in ober dere 
shoes into de mud and dirting dere uniforms. No fear ob dem, 
sah. Dey make as much noise when dey march in de wood as 
a drove ob pigs. You can hear dem a quarter ob a mile away." 

They tramped on through the woods through which M'Clel- 
lan's force had so painfully made their way during their first 
advance against Eichmond. From time to time they could 
hear noises in the forest — shouts, and once or twice the dis- 
charge of firearms. 

"Dey call dat hunting, I s'pose," Tony said scornfully. 

They kept steadily on until it began to grow dark in the 
forest. They were now in the White Oak Swamp and not 
eight miles from Richmond, and they thought it better to 
pause until it became quite dark, for they might be picked up 
by any raiding party of cavalry. Vincent was in high spirits. 
Now that he had succeeded in his enterprise, and had escaped 
almost by a miracle, he was eager to get back to Richmond and 
carry his news down to General Lee. Tony was even more 
anxious to push on. At last, after three years' absence, he 
was to see his wife and child again, and he reluctantly agreed 
to Vincent's proposal for a halt. 

"We sha'n't stop very long, Tony; and I own I am waiting 
quite as much because I am hungry and want to eat, and 
because I am desperately tired, as from any fear of the enemy. 
We walked twenty miles last night from Union Grove to the 
river, then I walked to the boat, back to the farm and then 

(538) 2 A 

370 "WORDS ain't no good, sail" 

back to the boat again — that's three more miles — and we have 
gone another twenty now. I am pretty nearly dead beat, I can 
tell you." 

"I'se tired too, sah; but I feel I could go on walking all night 
if I was to see Dinah in de morning." 

"Well, I couldn't, Tony; not to see any one. I might be 
willing enough, but my legs wouldn't take me." 

They ate a hearty meal, and almost as soon as they had 
finished Vincent stood up again. 

"Well, Tony, I can feel for your impatience, and so we will 
struggle on. I have just been thinking that when I last left 
my mother a week since she said she was thinking of going 
out to the Orangery for a month before the leaves fell, so it is 
probable that she may be there now. It is only about the 
same distance as it is to Richmond, so we will go straight 
there. I shall lose a little time, of course; but I can be 
driven over to Eichmond, so it won't be too much. Besides, 
I can put on a pair of slippers. That will be a comfort, for my 
feet feel as if they were in vices. A cup of tea won't be a bad 
thing, too." 

During their walk through the wood Vincent had related the 
circumstances of the carrying away of Dinah and of her rescue. 
When he had finished Tony had said : 

"Well, Massa Wingfield, I don't know what to say to you. 
I tought I owed you enuft' before, but it war nothing to dis. 
Just to tink dat you should take all dat pains to fetch Dinah 
back for me. I dun no how it came to you to do it. It seems 
to me like as if you been sent special from heben to do dis 
poor nigger good. Words ain't no good, sah ; but ef I could 
give my life away a hundred times for you I would do it." 

It took them nearly three hours' walking before they came 
in sight of the Orangery. 

"There are lights in the windows," Vincent said. "Thank 
goodness they are there." 


Vincent limped slowly along until he reached the house. 

"You stay out here, Tony. I will send Dinah out to you 
directly. It will be better for her to meet you here alone." 

Vincent walked straight into the drawing-room, where his 
mother and Annie were sitting. 

"Why, Vincent!" Mrs. Wingfield exclaimed starting up, 
"what has happened to you] What are you dressed up like 
that for] Is anything the matter]" 

"Nothing is the matter, mother, except that I am as tired as 
a dog. Yes, my dress is not quite fit for a drawing-room," he 
laughed, looking down at the rough trousers splashed with mud 
to the waist, and his flannel shirt, for they had not waited to 
pick up their coats as they left the boat; "but nothing is the 
matter, I can assure you. I will tell you all about it directly, 
but first please send for Dinah here." 

Mrs. Wingfield rang the bell on the table beside her. 

"Tell Dinah I want to speak to her at once," she said to the 
girl that answered it. Dinah appeared in a minute. 

"Dinah," Vincent said, "has your boy gone to bed?" 

"Yes, sah; been gone an hour ago." 

"Well, just go to him, and put a shawl round him, and go 
out through the front door. There is someone standing there 
you will be glad to see." 

Dinah stood with open eyes, then her hands began to 

"Is it Ton}", sah; for de Lord's sake, is it Tony]" 

Vincent nodded, and with a little scream of joy she turned 
and ran straight to the front door. She could not wait now 
even to fetch her boy, and in another moment she was clasped 
in her husband's arms. 

"Now, Vincent, tell us all about it," his mother said. "Don't 
you see we are dying of curiosity]" 

"And I am dying of fatigue," Vincent said; "which is a 
much more painful sort of death, and I can think of nothing 


else until I have got these boots off. Annie, do run and tell 
them to bring me a pair of slippers and a cup of tea, and I 
shall want the buggy at the door in half an hour." 

"You are not going away again to-night, Vincent, surely?", 
his mother said anxiously. "You do look completely ex- 

"I am exhausted, mother. I have walked seven or eight- 
and-forty miles, and this cavalry work spoils one for walking 

"Walked forty-eight miles, Vincent! What on earth have 
you done that for?" 

"Not from choice, I can assure you, mother; but you know 
the old saying, 'Needs must when the devil drives,' and in the 
present case you must read 'Yankee' instead of 'the gentleman 
in black.'" 

"But has Petersburg fallen?" Mrs. Wingfield asked in alarm. 

"No; Petersburg is safe, and is likely to continue so. But 
you must really be patient, mother, until I have had some tea, 
then you can hear the story in full." 

When the servant came in with the tea, Vincent told her that 
she was to tell Dinah, whom she would find in the verandah, to 
bring her husband into the kitchen, and to give him everything 
he wanted. Then, as soon as he had finished tea, he told his 
mother and sister the adventures he had gone through. Both 
were crying when he had finished. 

"I am proud of you, Vincent," his mother said. "It is hard 
on us that you should run such risks; still I do not blame you, 
my boy, for if I had ten sons I would give them all for my 

Vincent had but just finished his story when the servant 
came in and said that the buggy was at the door. 

"I will go in my slippers, mother, but I will run up and 
change my other things. It's lucky I have got a spare suit 
here. Any of our fellows who happened to be going dowii 

"dat's good news, sah/' 373 

to-night in the train would think that I was mad were I to go 
like this." 

It was one o'clock in the morning when Vincent reached 
Petersburg. He went straight to his quarters, as it would be 
no use waking General Lee at that hour. A light was burning 
in his room, and Dan was asleep at the table with his head on 
his arms. He leapt up with a cry of joy as his master entered. 

"Well, Dan, here I am safe again," Vincent said cheerily. 
"I hope you had not begun to give me up." 

"I began to be terribly frightened, sir — terribly frightened. 
I went dis afternoon and asked Captain Burley if he had any 
news ob you. He said 'No;' and asked me ef I knew where 
you were. I said 'No, sah;' that I knew nuffin about it 
except that you had gone on some dangerous job. He said 
he hoped that you would be back soon; and certainly, as far 
as dey had heard, nufhn had happened to you. Still I was 
bery anxious, and tought I would sit up till de last train 
came in from Eichmond. Den I tink I dropped off to sleep." 

"I think you did, Dan. Well, I am too tired to tell you 
anything about it now, but I have one piece of news for you; 
Tony has come back to his wife." 

"Dat's good news, sah; bery good news. I had begun to 
be afraid dat Tony had been shot or hung or someting. I 
know Dinah hab been fretting about him though she neber said 
much, but when I am at home she alius asks me all sorts of 
questions 'bout him. She bery glad woman now." 

The next morning Vincent went to General Lee's quarters. 

"I am heartily glad to see you back," the general said 
warmly as he entered. "I have blamed myself for letting you 
go. Well, what success have you had?" 

"Here is a rough plan of the works, general. I have not had 
time to do it out fairly, but it shows the positions of all their 
principal batteries, with a rough estimate as to the number of 
guns that each is intended to carry." 


"Excellent!" the general said, glancing over the plan. *'This 
will give us exactly the information we want. We must set 
to with our counter-works at once. The country is indeed 
indebted to you, sir. So you managed to cheat the Yankees 

"I should have cheated them, sir; but unfortunately I came 
across an old acquaintance who denounced me, and I had a 
narrow escape of being shot." 

"Well, Captain AVingfield, I must see about this business, 
and give orders at once. AVill you come and breakfast with 
me at half -past eight? Then you can give me an account of 
your adventures." 

Vincent returned to his quarters, and spent the next two 
hours in making a detailed drawing of the enemy's positions 
and batteries, and then at half-past eight walked over to General 
Lee's quarters. The general returned in a few minutes with 
General Wade Hampton and several other officers, and they at 
once sat down to breakfast. As the meal was proceeding an 
orderly entered with a telegram for the general. General Lee 
glanced through it. 

"This, gentlemen, is from the Minister of War. I acquainted 
him by telegraph this morning that Captain Wingfield, who 
had volunteered for the dangerous service, had just returned 
from the Federal lines with a plan of the positions and strength 
of all the works that they are erecting. I said that I trusted 
that such distinguished service as he had rendered would be 
at once rewarded with promotion, and the minister telegraphs 
to me now that he has this morning signed this young officer's 
commission as major. I heartily congratulate you, sir, on your 
well-earned step. And now, as I see you have finished your 
breakfast, perhaps you will give us an account of your pro- 

Vincent gave a detailed account of his adventures, which 
were heard with surprise and interest. 


"That was a narrow escape indeed," the general said, as he 
finished. " It was a marvellous thing your lighting upon this 
negro, whom you say you had once had an opportunity of 
serving, just at that moment; and although you do not tell us 
what was the nature of the service you had rendered him, it 
must have been a very considerable service or he would never 
have risked his life in that way to save yours. When these 
negroes do feel attachment for their masters there are no more 
faithful and devoted fellows. Well, in your case certainly a 
good action has met with its reward: if it had not been for 
him there could be no question that your doom was sealed. It 
is a strange thing too your meeting that traitor. I remember 
reading about that escape of yours from the Yankee prison. 
He must have been an ungrateful villain, after your takmg him 
with you." 

"He was a bad fellow altogether, I am afraid," Vincent said; 
" and the quarrel between us was a long-standing one." 

"Whatever your quarrel was," the general said hotly, "a 
man who would betray even an enemy to death in that way 
is a villain. However, he has gone to his account, and the 
country can forgive his treachery to her, as I have no doubt 
you have already done his conduct towards yourself." 

A short time afterwards Vincent had leave for a week, as 
things were quiet at Petersburg. 

"Mother," he said on the morning after he got home, "I 
fear that there is no doubt whatever now how this struggle 
will end. I think we might keep Grant at bay here, but Sher- 
man is too strong for us down in Georgia. We are already 
cut off from most of the Southern States, and in time Sherman 
will sweep round here, and then it v/ill be all over. You see 
it yourself, don't you, mother T' 

"Yes, I am afraid it cannot continue much longer, Vincent. 
Well, of course, we shall fight to the end." 

"I am not talking of giving up, mother; I am looking for- 


ward to the future. The first step will be that all the slaves 
will be freed. Now, it seems to me that however attached 
they may be to their masters and mistresses they will lose their 
heads over this, flock into the towns, and nearly starve there ; or 
else take up little patches of land and cultivate them, and live 
from hand to mouth, which will be ruin to the present owners 
as well as to them. Anyhov/ for a time all will be confusion 
and disorder. Now, my idea is this, if you give all your 
slaves their freedom at once, offer them patches of land for 
their own cultivation and employ them at wages, you will find 
that a great many of them will stop with you. There is no- 
where for them to go at present and nothing to excite them, 
so before the general crash comes they will have settled doAvn 
quietly to work here in their neAV positions, and will not be 
likely to go away," 

" It is a serious step to take, Vincent," Mrs. Wingfield said, 
after thinking the matter over in silence for some time. " You 
do not think there is any probability of the ultimate success of 
our cause?" 

"None, mother; I do not think there is even a possibility. 
One by one the Southern States have been wrested from the 
Confederacy. Sherman's march will completely isolate us. We 
have put our last available man in the field, and tremendous 
as are the losses of the enemy they are able to fill up the gaps 
as fast as they are made. No, mother, do not let us deceive 
ourselves on that head. The end must come, and that before 
long. The slaves will unquestionably be freed, and the only 
question for us is how to soften the blow. There is no doubt 
that our slaves, both at the Orangery and at the other planta- 
tions, are contented and happy; but you know how fickle and 
easily led the negroes are, and in the excitement of finding 
themselves free and able to go where they please, you may 
be sure that the greater number will wander away. My pro- 
posal is, that we should at once mark out a plot of land for 

Vincent's plans. 377 

each family, and tell them that as long as they stay here it is 
theirs rent-free; they will be paid for their work upon the 
estate, three, four, or five days a week, as they can spare time 
from their OAvn plots. In this way they will be settled doAvn, 
and have crops upon their j^lots of land, before the whole black 
population is upset by the sudden abolition of slavery." 

"But supposing they won't work at all, even for wages, 

"I should not give them the option, mother; it will be a 
condition of their having their plots of land free that they 
shall work at least three days a week for wages." 

" I will think over what you say, Vincent, and tell you my deci- 
sion in the morning. I certainly think your plan is a good one." 

The next morning Mrs. AVingfield told Vincent that she had 
decided to adopt his plan. He at once held a long consulta- 
tion with the overseer, and decided which fields should be set 
aside for the allotments, choosing land close to the negroes' 
quarters and suitable for the raising of vegetables for sale in 
the town. 

In the afternoon Mrs. Wingfield went down with him. The 
bell was rung and the whole of the slaves assembled. Vincent 
then made them a speech. He began by reminding them of 
the kind treatment they had always received, and of the good 
feeling that had existed between the owners of the Orangery 
and their slaves. He praised them for their good conduct 
since the beginning of the troubles, and said that his mother 
and himself had agreed that they would now take steps to 
reward them, and to strengthen the tie between them. They 
would all be granted their freedom at once, and a large plot 
of land would be given to each man, as much as he and his 
family could cultivate with an average of two days a week 
steady labour. 

Those who liked would, of course, be at liberty to leave; but 
he hoped that none of them would avail themselves of this 


freedom, for nowhere would they do so well as by accepting 
the offer he made them. All who accepted the offer of a plot 
of land rent-free must understand that it was granted them 
upon the condition that they would labour upon the estate 
for at least three days a w^eek, receiving a rate of pay similar 
to that earned by other freed negroes. Of course they would 
be at liberty to work four or five days a Aveek if they chose; 
but at least they must work three days, and anyone failing to 
do this would forfeit his plot of land. "Three days' work," 
he said, " will be sufficient to provide all necessaries for your- 
selves and families, and the produce of your land you can sell, 
and will so be able to lay by an ample sum to keep yourselves 
in old age. I have already plotted out the land, and you 
shall cast lots for choice of the plots. There will be a little 
delay before all your papers of freedom can be made out, but 
the arrangement will begin from to-day, and henceforth you 
will be paid for all labour done on the estate." 

Scarcely a word was spoken when Vincent concluded. The 
news was too surprising to the negroes for them to be able to 
understand it all at once. Dan and Tony, to whom Vincent 
had already explained the matter, went among them, and they 
gradually took in the whole of Vincent's meaning. A few 
received the news with great joy, but many others were de- 
pressed rather than rejoiced at the responsibilities of their new 
positions. Hitherto they had been clothed and fed, the doctor 
attended them in sickness, their master w^ould care for them 
in old age. They had been literally without a care for the 
morrow, and the thought that in future they would have to 
think of all these things for themselves almost frightened them. 
Several of the older men went up to Mrs. Wingfield and 
positively declined to accept their freedom. They were quite 
contented and happy, and wanted nothing more. They had 
worked on the plantation since they had been children, and 
freedom offered them no temptations whatever. 

"it's an experiment." 379 

"AVhat had we better do, Vincent ]" Mrs. Wingfield asked. 

" I think, mother, it will be best to tell them that all who 
wish can remain upon the old footing, but that their papers 
will be made out, and if at any time they wish to have their 
freedom they will only have to say so. Xo doubt they will 
soon become accustomed to the idea, and seeing how comfor- 
table the others are with their joay and the produce of their 
gardens they will soon fall in with the rest. Of course it 
will decrease the income from the estate, but not so much as 
you would think. They will be paid for their labour, but we 
shall have neither to feed nor clothe them ; and I think we shall 
get better labour than we do now, for the knowledge that those 
who do not work steadily will lose their plots of land, and 
have to go out in the world to work, their places being filled 
by others, will keep them steady." 

" It's an experiment, Vincent, and we shall see how it works." 

"It's an experiment I have often thought I should like to 
make, mother, and now you see it is almost forced upon us. 
To-morrow I will ride over to the other plantations and make 
the same arrans-ements." 

During the month of August many battles took place round 
Petersburg. On the 12th the Federals attacked, but were re- 
pulsed with heavy loss, and 2500 prisoners were taken. On the 
21st the Confederates attacked, and obtained a certain amount 
of success, killing, wounding, and capturing 2400 men. Peters- 
burg was shelled day and night, and almost continuous fighting 
went on. Nevertheless, up to the middle of October the 
positions of the armies remained unaltered. On the 27th of 
that month the Federals made another general attack, but were 
repulsed with a loss of 1500 men. During the next three 
months there was little fighting, the Confederates having now 
so strengthened their lines by incessant toil that even General 
Grant, reckless of the lives of his troops as he was, hesitated to 
renew the assault. 

380 Sherman's march. 

But in the south General Sherman was carrying all before 
him. Generals Hood and Johnston, who commanded the Con- 
federate armies there, had fought several desperate battles, 
but the forces ojjposed to them were too strong to be driven 
back. They had marched through Georgia to Atlanta and 
captured that important town on the 1st of September, and 
obtained command of the net-work of railways, and thus cut 
off a large portion of the Confederacy from Eichmond. Then 
Sherman marched south, wasting the country through which 
he marched, and capturing Savannah on the 21st of September. 

While he was so doing, General Hood had marched into 
Tennessee, and after various petty successes Avas defeated, after 
two days' hard fighting, near Nashville. In the third week 
in January, 1865, Sherman set out with 60,000 infantry and 
10,000 cavalry from Savannah, laying waste the whole country 
■ — burning, pillaging, and destroying. The town of Columbia 
was occupied, sacked, and burnt, the white men and women 
and even the negroes being horribly ill-treated. 

The Confederates evacuated Charleston at the approach of 
the enemy, setting it in flames rather than allow it to fall into 
Sherman's hands. The Federal army then continued its de- 
vastating route through South Carolina, and at the end of 
March had established itself at Goldsboro, in North Carolina, 
and was in readiness to aid Grant in his final attack on Rich- 

Lee, seeing the imminence of the danger, made an attack upon 
the enemy in front of Petersburg, but was repulsed. He had 
now but 37,000 men with which to oppose an enemy of nearly 
four times that strength in front of him, while Sheridan's cavalry, 
10,000 strong, threatened his flank, and Sherman with his army 
was but a few days' march distant. There was fierce fighting 
on the 29th, 30th, and 31st of March, and on the 2nd of April 
the whole Federal army assaulted the positions at Petersburg, 
and after desperate fighting succeeded in carrying them. The 


Confederate troops, outnumbered and exhausted as they were 
by the previous week's marching and fighting, yet retained 
their discipline, and Lee drew off with 20,000 men and marched 
to endeavour to effect a junction with Johnston, who was still 
facing Sherman. But his men had but one day's provision 
with them. The stores that he had ordered to await them 
at the point to which he directed his march had not arrived 
there when they reached it, and, harassed at every foot of 
their march by Sheridan's cavalry and Ord's infantry, the 
force fought its way on. The horses and mules were so weak 
from want of food that they were unable to drag the guns, 
and the men dropped in numbers from fatigue and famine. 
Sheridan and Ord cut off two corps, but General Lee, with but 
8000 infantry and 2000 cavalry, still pressed forward to- 
wards Lynchburg. But Sheridan threw himself in the way, 
and, finding that no more could be done, General Lee and the 
infantry surrendered, and a few days' later Generals Lee and 
Grant met and signed terms of peace. General Johnston's 
army surrendered to General Sherman, and the long and des- 
perate struggle was at an end. 

It was a dreadful day in Eichmond when the news came that 
the lines of Petersburg were forced, and that General Lee no 
longer stood between the city and the invaders. The President 
and ministers left at once, and were followed by all the better 
class of inhabitants who could find means of conveyance. The 
negroes, Irish, and some of the lower classes at once set to 
work to pillage and burn, and the whole city would have been 
destroyed had not a Federal force arrived and at once sup- 
pressed the rioting. 

Whatever had been the conduct of the Federal troops during 
the last year of the war, however great the suffering they had 
inflicted upon the unarmed and innocent population of the 
country through which they marched, the terms of peace that 
General Grant agreed upon, and which were, although with 


some reluctance, ratified by the government, were in the highest 
degree liberal and generous. No one was to be injured or 
molested for the share he had taken in the war. A general 
amnesty was granted to all, and the States w^ere simply to return 
to the position in the Union that they occupied previous to the 
commencement of the strus-srle. 

More liberal terms were never granted by a conqueror to the 

Vincent was with the cavalry who escaped prior to Lee's 
surrender, but as soon as the terms of peace were ratified the 
force was disbanded and he returned home. He was received 
with the deepest joy by his mother and sister. 

"Thank God, my dear boy, that all is over, and you have 
been preserved to us. We are beaten, but no one can say that 
we have been disgraced. Had every state done its duty as 
Virginia has w^e should never have been overpawered. It has 
been a terrible four years, and there are few families indeed 
that have no losses to mourn." 

" It was well you were not in Eichmond, mother, the day of 
the riots." 

" Yes; but we had our trouble here too, Vincent. A number 
of the slaves from some of the plantations came along this way, 
and wanted our hands to join them to burn down their quarters 
and the house, and to march to Richmond. Tony and Dan, 
hearing of their approach, armed themselves with your double- 
barrelled ^uns, went down and called out the hands and armed 
them with hoes and other implements. When the negroes 
came up there was a desperate quarrel, but our hands stood 
firm, and Tony and Dan declared that they would shoot the 
first four men that advanced, and at last they drew off' and made 
their way to Richmond. 

" Your plan has succeeded admirably. One or t-^vo of the 
hands went to Richmond next day, but returned a day or two 
afterwards and begged so hard to be taken on again that I for- 


gave them. Since then everything has been going on as quietly 
and regularly as usual, while there is scarcely a man left on any 
of the estates near." 

" And now, mother, that I find things are c[uiet and settled 
here, I shall go down to Georgia and fetch Lucy home. I 
shall be of age in a few months, and the house on the estate 
that comes to me then can be enlarged a bit, and will do very 

"Not at all, Vincent. Annie will be married next month. 
Herbert Rowsell was here two days ago, and it's all settled. 
So I shall be alone here. It will be very lonely and dull for 
me, Vincent, and I would rather give up the reins of govern- 
ment to Lucy and live here with you, if you like the plan." 

'Certainly, I should like it, mother; and so, I am sure, 
would Lucy." 

" Well, at any rate, Vincent, we will try the experiment, and 
if it does not work well I will take possession of the other 

" There is no fear of that, mother, — none whatever.'' 

"And when are you thinking of getting married, Vincent?" 

"At once, mother. I wrote to her the day we were dis- 
banded saying that I should come in a week, and would allow 
another week and no longer for her to get ready." 

" Then, in that case, Vincent, Annie and I will go down with 
you. Annie will not have much to do to get ready for her own 
wedding. It must, of course, be a very quiet one, and there 
will be no array of dresses to get; for I suppose it will be 
some time yet before the railways are open again and things 
begin to come down from the North." 

Happily Antioch had escaped the ravages of war, and there 
was nothing to mar the happiness of the wedding. Lucy's 
father had returned, having lost a leg in one of the battles of 
the Wilderness a year before, and her brother had also escaped. 
After the wedding they returned to their farm in Tennessee, 


and Mrs. Wingfield, Annie, Vincent, and Lucy went back to 
the Orangery. 

For the next three or four years times were very hard in 
Virginia, and Mrs. Wingfield had to draw upon her savings to 
keep up the house in its former state; while the great majority 
of the planters were utterly ruined. The negroes, however, 
for the most part remained steadily working on the estate. A 
few wandered away, but their places were easily filled; for the 
majority of the freed slaves very soon discovered that their lot 
was a far harder one than it had been before, and that freedom 
so suddenly given was a curse rather than a blessing to them. 

Thus, while so many went down, the Wingfields weathered 
the storm, and the step that had been taken in preparing their 
hands for the general abolition of slavery was a complete 

AVith the gradual return of prosperity to the South the prices 
of produce improved, and ten years after the conclusion of the 
rebellion the income of the Orangery was nearly as large as 
it had been previous to its outbreak. Vincent, two years after 
the conclusion of the struggle, took his wife over to visit his 
relations in England, and, since the death of his mother in 
1879, has every year spent three or four' months at home, and 
will not improbably ere long sell his estates in Virginia and 
settle here altogether. 


By the Author of John Herring^' "Mehalah,'' etc. 

Grettir the Outlaw: a story of Iceland. By S. Baring- 
Gould. With 10 full-page Illustrations by M. Zeno Diemer 
and a Coloured Map. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

A work of special interest, not only because of the high rank which INIr. 
Baring-Gould has of late years acquired by his brilliant series of novels, 
Mehalah, John Herring, Court Royal, &c., but because of his earlier won 
reputation as a historian and explorer of folk-legends and popular beliefs. 
In the story of Grettir, both the art of the novelist and the lore of the 
archaeologist have had full scope, with the result that we have a narrative 
of adventure of the most romantic kind, and at the same time an interesting 
and minutely accurate account of the old Icelandic famihes, their homes, 
their mode of life, their superstitions, their songs and stories, their bear- 
serk fury, and their heroism by land and sea. The story is told tlu'oughout 
with a simplicity which will make it attractive even to the very young, and 
no boy will be able to withstand the magic of such scenes as the fight of 
Grettir T\uth the twelve bear-serks, the wi-estle ^vith Karr the Old in the 
chamber of the dead, the combat with the spirit of Glam the thrall, and 
the defence of the dying Grettir by his younger brother. 


With Lee in Virg-inia: a story of the American Civil War. 
By G. A Henty. With 10 full- page Illustrations by Gordon 
Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 
The great war between the Northern and Southern States of America 
has the special interest for English boys of having been a struggle between 
two sections of a people akin to us in race and language — a struggle fought 
out by each side with unusual intensity of conviction in the rightness of 
its cause, and abounding in heroic incidents. Of these points Mr. Henty 
has made admirable use in this story of a young Virginian planter, who, 
after bravely proving his sympathy with the slaves, serves with no less 
courage and enthusiasm under Lee and Jackson through the most excit- 
ing events of the struggle. He has many hairbreadth escapes, is several 
times wounded and twice taken prisoner; but his courage and readiness 
bring him safely through aU difficulties. 



"3Ir. Henty is one of the best of story-tellers for young i^eo^lQ."— Spectator. 

By Pike and Dyke: a Tale of the Else of the Dutch Ee- 
public. By G, A. Henty. With 10 full-page Illustrations by 
Maynaed Bkown and 4 Maps. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine 
edges, Qs. 

A story covering the period which forms the thrilling subject of Motley's 
Rise of the Dutch ReimUic, when the Netherlands, under the guidance of 
William of Orange, revolted against the attempts of Alva and the Spaniards 
to force upon them the Catholic religion. To a stoiy already of the 
keenest interest, Mr. Henty has added a special attractiveness for boys in 
tracing through the historic conflict the adventures and brave deeds of an 
English boy in the household of the ablest man of his age — William the 
Silent. Edward Martin, the son of an English sea-captain, after sharing 
in the excitement of an escape from the Spaniards and a sea-fight, enters 
the service of the Prince as a volunteer, and is employed by him in many 
dangerous and responsible missions, in the discharge of which he passes 
through the great sieges and more than one naval engagement of the time. 
He is subsequently employed in Holland by Queen EKzabeth, to whom he 
is recommended by Orange; and ultimately settles down as Sir Edward 
Martin and the husband of the lady to whom he owes his life, and whom 
he in turn has saved from the Council of Blood. 

The Lion of St. Mark: A Tale of Venice in the Fourteenth 
Century. By G. A, Henty. With 10 full-page Illustrations by 
Gordon Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 65. 

" Every boy should read The Lion of St. Mark. Mr. Henty has never produced 
any story more delightful, more wholesome, or more vivacious. From first to 
last it will be read with keen enjoyment."— T/ie Saturday Bevieiv. 

"Mr. Henty has probably not published a more interesting story than The 
Lion of St. Mark. He has certainly not published one in which he has been at such 
pains to rise to the dignity of his subject. Mr. Henty's battle-pieces are admir- 
able."— TAe Academy. 

" The young hero has shrewdness, courage, enterprise, principle, all the quali- 
ties that help the young in the race and battle of life." — Literary Churchman. 

Captain Bailey's Heir: A Tale of the Gold Fields of Cali- 
fornia. By G-. A. Henty. With 12 full-page Illustrations by 
H. M. Paget. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

"A Westminster boy who, like all this author's heroes, makes his way in the 
world by hard work, good temper, and unfailing courage. The descriptions given 
of life are just what a healthy Intelligent lad should delight in."— St. James's 

"The portraits of Captain Eayley, and the head-master of Westminster school, 
are admirably drawn; and the adventures in California are told with that vigour 
which is peculiar to Mr. Henty."— T/ie Academy. 

"Mr. Henty is careful to mingle solid instruction with entertainment; and the 
humorous touches, especially in the sketch of John HoU, the Westminster dust- 
man, Dickens himself could hardly have qxcqUqA."— Christian Leader. 



'Surely Mr. Henty should understand boys' tastes better than any man living.' 

—The Times. 

Bonnie Prince Charlie : A Tale of Fontenoy and Culloden. 
By G-. A. Henty. With 12 full-page Illustrations by Gordon 
Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

"Ronald, the hero, is very like the hero of Quentin Duncard. The lad's 
journey across France with his faithful attendant Malcolm, and his hairbreadth 
escapes from the machinations of his father's enemies, make up as good a 
narrative of the kind as we have ever read. For ireslniess of treatment and 
variety of incident, Mr. Henty has here surpassed himself."— Spectator. 

"A historical romance of the best quality. Mr. Henty has written many more 
sensational stories, but never a more artistic one."— Academy. 

For the Temple: a Tale of the Fail of Jerusalem. By 
G. A. Henty. With 10 full-page Illustrations by Solomon J. 
Solomon : and a coloured Map. Crown 8vo, gloth elegant, olivine 
edges, 6 s. 

" Mr. Henty is ever one of the foremost writers of historical tales, and his graphic 
prose pictures of the liopeless Jewish resistance to Roman sway adds another 
leaf to his record of the famous wars of the world. The book is one of Mr. Henty's 
cleverest efforts. "—Grax^Mc. 

"The story is told with all the force of descriptive power which has made the 
author's war stories so famous, and many an 'old boy' as well as the younger 
ones will delight in this narrative of that awful page of Ya^tory. "—Church Times. 

The Lion of the North: A Tale of Gustaviis Adolphns and 
the Wars of Eeligion. By G. A. Henty. With 12 full-page 
Illustrations by John Schonberg. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 
olivine edges, %s. 

"As we might expect from Mr. Henty the tale is a clever and instructive piece 
of history, and as boys may be trusted to read it conscientiously, they can hardly 
fail to be profited as well as pleased."— TAe Times. 

"A praiseworthy attempt to interest British youth in the great deeds of the 
Scotch Brigade in the wars of Gustavus Adolphus. Mackay, Hepburn, and Munro 
live again in Mr. Henty's pages, as those deserve to live whose disciplined bands 
formed really the germ of the modern British army."— Athenceum. 

"A stirring story of stirring times. This book should hold a place among the 
classics of youthful Action."— United Service Gazette. 

The Young" Carthaginian: A story of the Times of 

Hannibal. By G. A. Henty. With 12 full-page Illustrations by 
C. J. Staniland, R.I. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

" The effect of an interesting story, well constructed and vividly told, is en- 
hanced by the picturesque quality of the scenic background. From first to last 
nothing stays the interest of the narrative. It bears us along as on a stream, 
whose current varies in direction, but never loses its iovce."— Saturday Review. 

"Ought to be popular with boys who are not too ill instructed or too dandi- 
fied to be affected by a graphic picture of the days and deeds of Hannibal.' — 



" Among -vvriters of stories of adventure for boys Mr. Henty stands in the very 
fii'st rank." — Academy. 

With Wolfe in Canada: Or, The Wiimiug of a Continent. 
By G. A. Henty. With 12 full-page Illustrations by Goedon 
Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, &s. 

"A model of what a boys' story-book should be. Mr. Henty has a great power 
of infusing into the dead facts of history new life, and as no pains are spared by 
him to ensure accuracy in historic details, his books supply useful aids to study 
as M-ell as amusement."— ^cTiooZ Guardian. 

" It is not only a lesson in history as instructively as it is graphically told, but 
also a deeply interesting and often thrilling tale of adventure and peril by flood 
and field."— Illmtrated London News. 

" This is a narrative which will bear retelling, and to which Mr. Henty, whose 
careful study of details is worthy of all praise, does full justice. ... His 
adventures are told with much spirit ; the escape when the birch canoes have 
been damaged by an enemy is especially well dQ&cvihed."— Spectator. 

With Clive in India: Or, The Beginnings of an Empire. 
By G. A. Henty. With 12 full-page Illustrations by Gordon 
Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

" In this book Mr. Henty has contrived to exceed himself in stirring adventures 
and thrilling situations. The pictures add greatly to the interest of the book."— 
Saturday Review. 

"Among writers of stories of adventure for boys Mr. Henty stands in the very 
first rank. Those who know something about India will be the most ready to 
thank :\rr. Henty fur giving them this instructive volume to place in the hands 
of their children."— J. cademy. 

True to the Old Flag*: A Tale of the American War of 
Independence. By G. A. Henty. With 12 full-page Illustrations 
by Gordon Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, Qs. 

"Does justice to the pluck and determination of the British soldiers. The son 
of an American loyalist, who remains true to our flag, falls among the hostile red- 
skins in that very Huron country which has been endeared to us by the exploits 
of Hawkeye and Chingachgook."— TAe Times. 

" Mr. Henty's extensive personal experience of adventures and moving incidents 
by flood and field, combined with a gift of picturesque narrative, make his books 
always welcome visitors in the home circle."— Daily News. 

In Freedom's Cause: A story of Wallace and Brnce. By 
G. A. Henty. With 12 full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 
Crown Svo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

"Mr. Henty has broken new ground as au historical novelist. His tale of the 
days of Wallace and Bruce is full of stirring action, and will commend itself to 
boys. "—A thenceum. 

"Written in the author's best style. Full of the most remarkable achieve- 
ments, it is a tale of great interest, which a boy, once he has begun it, will not 
willingly put on one side." — Schoolmaster. 

"Scarcely anywhere have we seen in prose a more lucid and spirit-stin-ing 
description of Bannockburn than the one with which the author fittingly closes 
his volume."— Dicmfries Standard. 



' JVIr. Henty is one of our most successful writers of historical i&les."— Scotsman. 

ThrOUg'h the Fray: A Stoiy of the Luddite Eiots. By 
G. A. Henty. With 12 full-page Illustrations by H. M. Paget. 
Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

" Mr. Henty inspires a love and admiration for straiglitforwardness, truth, and 
courage. This is one of the best of the many good books ifr. Henty has produced, 
and deserves to be classed with his Facing Death." — Standard. 

" The interest of the story never flags. Were we to propose a competition for 
the best list of novel writers for boys we have little doubt that Mr. Henty's name 
would stand first. "—Journal of Education. 

" This story is told in Mr. Henty's own easy and often graphic style. There is 
no 'padding' in the book, and its teaching is, that we have enemies within as 
well as without, and therefore the power of self-control is a quality that should 
be striven after by every 'true' hoy. "—Educational Times. 

Under Drake's Flag*: a Tale of the Spanish Main. By 
G. A. Henty. Illustrated by 12 full-page Pictures by Gordon 
Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

"There is not a dull chapter, nor, indeed, a dull page in the book; but the 
author has so carefully worked up his subject that the exciting deeds of his 
heroes are never incongruous or absurd." — Observer. 

"Just such a book, indeed, as the youth of this maritime country are Likely to 
prize highly."— Daily Telegraph. 

" A book of adventure, where the hero meets with experience enough one would 
think to turn his hair gra.y."— Harper's Monthly Magazine. 


Two Thousand Years Ago: Or, The Adventures of a Eoraan 
Boy, By Professor A. J. Church. With 12 full -page Illustrations 
by Adeien Marie. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, Qs. 

"Adventures well worth the telling. The book is extremely entertaining as 
well as useful, and there is a wonderful freshness in the Koman scenes and 
characters. "—The Times. 

" Entertaining in the highest degree from beginning to end, and full of adven- 
ture which is all the livelier for its close connection with history." — Spectator. 

"We know of no book which will do more to make the Romans of that day live 
again for the English lea-^ev."— Guardian. 

Robinson Crusoe. By Daniel Defoe. Illustrated by above 
100 Pictures by Gordon Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 
olivine edges, 6s. 

"One of the best issues, if not absolutely the best, of Defoe's work which has 
ever appeared."— TAe Standard. 

" The best edition I have come across for years. If you know a boy who has 
not a 'Robinson Crusoe,' just glance at any one of these hundred illustrations, 
and you will go no further afield in search of a present for him."— Truth. 



"Mr. Fenn is in the front rank of writers of stories for hoys."— Liverpool 

Quicksilver: Or a Boy with no Skid to his Wheel. By 
Geoege Manville Fexn. With 10 full-page Illustrations by 
Feank Dadd. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, oli^dne edges, Qs. 

" Quicksilver is little short of an inspiration. In it that prince of story-writers 
for boys— George Manville Fenn— has surpassed himself. It is an ideal book for 
a boy's library."- Practi'ca^ Teacher. 

" The story is capitally told, it abounds in graphic and well-described scenes, 
and it has an excellent and manly tone throughout." — The Guardian. 

" This is one of Mr. Fenn's happiest efforts, and deserves to be read and re-read 
by every school-boy in the land. We are not exaggerating when we say that 
Quicksilver has nothing to equal it this season." — Tecichers' Aid. 

Dick O' the Fens: A Eomance of the Great East Swamp. By 
G. Manville Fenn. With 12 full-page Illustrations by Feank 
Dadd. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

"We conscientiously believe that boys will find it capital reading. It is full 
of incident and mystery, and the mystery is kept up to the last moment. It is 
rich in effective local colouring; and it has a historical interest. "—Times. 

"We have not of late come across a historical fiction, whether intended for 
boys or for men, which deserves to be so heartily and unreservedly praised as 
regards plot, incidents, and spirit as Dick o' the Fens. It is its author's master- 
piece as yet."— Spectator. 

Devon Boys: A Tale of the North Shore. By G. Manville 
Fenn. With 12 full - page Illustrations by Goedon Beowne. 
Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

"An admirable story, as remarkable for the individuality of its young heroes 
as for the excellent descriptions of coast scenery and life in North Devon. It is 
one of the best books we have seen this season."— Athenceum. 

"We do not know that Mr. Fenn has ever reached a higher level than he has 
in Devon Boys. It must be put in the very front rank of Christmas books."— 

BPOWnsmith's Boy: A Eomance in a Garden. By G. Man- 
ville Fenn. With 12 full-page Illustrations by Gordon Beowne. 
Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

"Mr. Fenn's books are among the best, if not altogether the best, of the stories 
for boys. Mr. Fenn is at his best in Brownsmith's Boy."— Pictorial World. 

" Browns mith's Boy must rank among the few undeniably good boys' books. 
He will be a very dull boy indeed who lays it down without wishing that it had 
gone on for at least 100 pages more." — North British Mail. 

In the King's Name : Or the Cruise of the Kestrel By 
G. Manville Fenn. Illustrated by 12 full-page Pictures by 
Goedon Beowne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

"A capital boys' story, full of incident and adventure, and told in the lively 
style in which Mr. Fenn is such an adept. "—Globe. 

" The best of all Mr. Fenn's productions in this field. It has the great quality 
of always ' moving on,' adventure following adventure in constant succession." — 
Daily News. 



"Our boys know ilr. Fenn well, his stories having won for him a foremost place 
in their estimation."— Pa ^i Mall Gazette. 

Bunyip Land: The story of a Wild Journey ni New Guinea. 
By G. Manville Fenn. With 12 full -page Illustrations by 
Gordon Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

" Mr. Fenn deserves the thanks of everybody for Bunyip Land, and we may ven- 
ture to promise that a quiet week may be reckoned on whilst tne youngsters have 
such fascinating literature provided for their evenings' amusement."— ^j;ec^aior. 

"One of the best tales of adventure produced by any living writer, combining 
the inventiveness of Jules Verne, and the solidity of character and earnestness 
of spirit which have made the English victorious in so many fields."— Z>fu7y 

The Golden Mag-net : A Tale of the Land of the Incas. By 
G. Manville Fenn. Illustrated by 12 full-page Pictures by Gor- 
don Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, Qs. 

"This is, we think, the best boys' book Mr. Fenn has produced. . . . The 
illustrations are perfect in their way. "—Globe. 

"There could be no more welcome present for a boy. There is not a dull page 
in the book, and many will be read with breathless interest. 'The Golden Mag- 
net ' is, of course, the same one that attracted Ealeigh and the heroes of West- 
ivarcl Ho ! "—Journal of Education. 


The Log" of the ** Flying* Fish:" a story of Aerial and 

Submarine Peril and Adventure. By Harry Collingwood. With 

12 full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth 

elegant, olivine edges, 6s. 

"The Flying Fish actually surpasses all Jules Verne's creations; with incred- 
ible speed she flies through the air, skims over the surface of the water, and darts 
along the ocean bed. We strongly recommend oiu" school-boy friends to possess 
themselves of her log."— Athenceum. 


Under False Colours. By Sarah Doudney. With 12 full- 
page Illustrations by G. G. Kilburne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 
olivine edges, 6s. 

"This is a charming story, abounding in delicate touches of sentiment and 
pathos. Its plot is skilfully contrived. It will be read with a warm interest by 
every girl who takes it up."— Scotsman. 

" Sarah Doudney has no superior as a writer of high-toned stories— pure in 
style, original in conception, and with skilfully wrought-out plots ; but we have 
seen nothing from this lady's pen equal in dramatic energy to her latest work — 
Under False Colours."— Christian Leader. 



" The brightest of all the living writers whose office it is to enchant the boys. " 

— Christian Leader. 

One of the 28th : a Tale of Waterloo. By G. A. Henty. 

With 8 full-page Illustrations by W. H. Overend, and 2 Maps. 
Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

Herbert Penfold, being desirous of benefiting the daupliter of an inti- 
mate friend, and Ralph Conway, the son of a lady to whom he had once 
been engaged, draws up a will dividing his property between them, and 
places it in a hiding-place only known to members of his own family. At 
his death his two sisters determine to keep silence, and the authorized 
search for the will, though apparently thorough, fails to bring it to light. 
The mother of Ralph, however, succeeds in entering the house as a servant, 
and after an arduous and exciting search secures the will. In the mean- 
time, her son has himself passed through a series of adventures. The boat 
in which he is fishing is run down by a French privateer, and Ralph, 
scrambling on board, is forced to serve until the harbour of refuge is 
entered by a British frigate. On his return he enters the army, and after 
some rough service in Ireland, takes j^art in the Waterloo campaign, from 
which he returns with the loss of an arm, but with a substantial fortune, 
which is still further increased by his marriage with his co-heir. 

The Cat of Bubastes: a story of Ancient Egypt. By 
G. A. Henty. With 8 full-page Hlustrations by J. R Weguelin. 
Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 

"The story is highly enjoyable. We have pictures of Egyptian domestic life, of 
sport, of religious ceremonial, and of other things which may still be seen vividly 
portrayed by the brush of Egyptian artists." — The Spectator. 

"The story, from the critical moment of the killing of the sacred cat to the 
perilous exodus into Asia with which it closes, is very skilfully constructed and 
full of exciting adventures. It is admirably illustrated."— Satwrday Review. 

"Mr. Henty has fairly excelled himself in this admirable story of romance and 
adventure. We have never examined a story-book that we can recommend with 
more confidence as a boy's revfaxd.."— Teachers' Aid. 

The Drag'on and the Raven: Or, The Days of King 

Alfred. By G. A. Henty. With 8 full-page Illustrations by 
C. J. Staniland, E..I. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

"Perhaps the best story of the early days of England which has yet been told." 
—Court Journal. 

" We know of no popular book in which the stirring incidents of AKred's reign 
are made accessible to young readers as they are here." — Scotsman. 

St. George for England: a Tale of Cressy and Poitiers. 
By G. A. Henty. With 8 full-page Illustrations by Gokdon 
Browne, in black and tint. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

" Mr. Henty has done his work well, producing a strong story at once instructive 
and entertaining."— Gtosf/oiw Herald. 

" Mr. Henty's historical novels for boys bid fair to supplement, on their behalf, 
the historical labours of Sir Walter Scott in the laud of Q.ction."— Standard. 



Mr. Henty is the king of story-tellers for hoys."— Sword and Trowel. 

The Bravest of the Brave: With Peterborough in Spain. 
By G. A. Henty. With 8 full-page Pictures by H. M. Paget. 
Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

"Mr. Henty never loses sight of the moral purpose of his work— to enforce the 
doctrine of courage and truth, mercy and lovingkindness, as indispensable to the 
making of an English gentleman. British lads will read The Bravest of the 
Brave with pleasure and profit; of that we are quite suTe." —Daily Telegraph. 

For Name and Fame: Or, Through Afghan Passes. By 
G. A. Henty. With 8 full-page Illustrations by Gordon Beowne, 
in black and tint. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

"The best feature of the book, apart from its scenes of adventure, is its honest 
effort to do justice to the patriotism of the Afghan people."— Da ii?/ Neivs. 

"Not only a rousing story, replete with all the varied forms of excitement of a 
campaign, but, what is still more useful, an account of a territory and its inhabi- 
tants which must for a long time possess a supreme interest for Englishmen, as 
being the key to our Indian Empire. "—Glasgow Herald. 

In the Reign of Terror: The Adventures of a Westminster 
Boy. By G. A. Henty. With 8 full -page Illustrations by J. 
ScHoNBERG. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 

" Harry Sand with, the Westminster boy, may fairly be said to beat Mr. Henty's 
record. His adventures will delight boys by the audacity and peril they depict. 
The story is one of Mr. Henty's best."— Saturday Review. 

Orang'e and Green: A Tale of the Boyne and Limerick. 
By G. A. Henty. With 8 full -page Illustrations by Gordon 
Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 

"An extremely spirited story, based on the struggle in Ireland, rendered 
memorable by the defence of 'Derry and the siege of Limerick."— <Sat. Review. 

"The narrative is free from the vice of prejudice, and ripples vfiih. life as 
vivacious as if what is being described were really passing before the eye. . . . 
Orange and Green should be in the hands of every young student of Irish 
history without Ae\di.y ." —Belfast Morning News. 

By Sheer Pluck: A Tale of the Ashanti War. By G. A. 

Henty. With 8 full-page Pictures by Gordon Browne. Crown 

8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

" By Sheer Pluck will be eagerly read. The author's personal knowledge of the 
west coast has been turned to good advantage."— ^«/ie?KEnm. 

"Morally, the book is everything that could be desired, setting before the boys 
a bright and bracing ideal of the EngUsh gentleman."— Cftris«ia?i Leader. 



"Mr. G. A. Henty's fame as a writer of boys' stories is deserved and secure."— 
Cork Herald. 

A Final Reckoning: A Tale of Bush Life in Australia. 
By G. A. Henty. With 8 full-page Illustrations by W. B. 
WoLLEN. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

" Exhibits Mr. Henty's talent as a story-teller at his best. . . . The drawings 
possess the uncommon merit of really illustrating the text."— Saticrday Review. 

" All boys will read this story with eager and unflagging interest. The episodes 
are in Mr. Henty's very best vein— graphic, exciting, realistic; and, as in all Mr. 
Henty's books, the tendency is to the formation of an honourable, manly, and 
even heroic c]i3xa.c,t&v."— Birmingham Post. 

Facing" Death: Or the Hero of the Vaughau Pit. A Tale of 
the Coal Mines. By G. A. Henty. With 8 full-page Illustrations 
by Gordon Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

" If any father, godfather, clergyman, or schoolmaster is on the look-out for a 
good book to give as a present to a boy who is worth his salt, this is the book we 
would recommend."— 5to?idard. 


Highways and High Seas: Cyril Harley's Adventures on 
both. By r. Frankfort Moore. With 8 full-page Illustrations 
by Alfred Pearse. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 

The story belongs to a period when highways meant post-chaises, 
coaches, and highwaymen, and when high seas meant post-captains, 
frigates, privateers, and smugglers; and the hero — a boy who has some 
remarkable experiences upon both — tells his story with no less humour 
than vividness. He shows incidentally how little real courage and romance 
there frequently was about the favourite law-breakers of fiction, but how 
they might give rise to the need of the highest courage in others and lead 
to romantic adventures of an exceedingly exciting kind. A certain 
piquancy is given to the story by a slight trace of nineteenth century 
malice in the picturing of eighteenth century life and manners. 

Under Hatches : Or Ned Woodthorpe's Adventures. By F. 
Prankfort Moore. With 8 full-page Illustrations by A. Fores- 
TIER. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 

" Mr. Moore has never shown himself so thoroughly qualified to write books 
for boys as he has done in Under Hatches."— The Academy. 

' 'A first-rate sea story, full of stirring incidents, and, from a literary point of vicAV, 
far better written than the majority of books for hoy^."—Pall Mall Gazette. 

"The story as a story is one that will just suit boys all the world over. The 
characters are well drawn and consistent; Patsy, the Irish steward, will be found 
especially amusing." — Schoolmaster. 



"No one can find his way to the hearts of lads more readily than Mr. Femi." — 
Nottingham Gicardian. 

YuSSUf the Guide: Being the Strange Story of the Travels 
in Asia Minor of Burne the Lawyer, Preston the Professor, and 
Lawrence the Sick. By G-. Manville Penn. With 8 full-page 
Illustrations by John Schonberg. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

" The narrative will take its readers into scenes that will have great novelty 
and attraction for them, and the experiences with the brigands will be especially 
delightful to hoys."— Scotsman. 

Menhardoe: A story of Comish Nets and Mines. By G. 
Manville Fenn. With 8 full-page Illustrations by C. J. Stani- 
LAND. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

" They are real living boys, with their virtues and faults. The Cornish fisher- 
men are drawn from life, they are racy of the soil, salt with the sea-water, and 
they stand out from the pages in their jerseys and sea-boots all sprinkled Avith 
silvery pilchard scales." — Spectator. 

"A description of Will ilarion's descent into a flooded mine is excellent. Josh 
is a delightfully amusing character. We may cordially praise the illustrations." 
—Saturday Review. 

Mother Carey's Chicken: Her Voyage to the Unknown 
Isle. By G-. Manville Penn. With 8 full-page Illustrations by 
A. Poeestier. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 

"Jules Verne himself never constructed a more marvellous tale. It contains 
the strongly marked English features that are always conspicuous in Mr. Fenu's 
stories— a humour racy of the British soil, the manly vigour of his sentiment, 
and wholesome moral lessons. For anything to match his realistic touch we must 
go to Daniel Defoe." — Christian Leader. 

"When we get to the ' Unknown Isle,' the story becomes exciting. Mr. Fenn 
keeps his readers in a suspense that is not intermitted for a moment, and the 
denouement is a surprise which is as probable as it is &ta,vtlins."— Spectator. 

Patience Wins: Or, War in the Works. By G. Manville 
Penn. With 8 full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 
Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

"An excellent story, the interest being sustained from first to last. One of the 
best books of its kind which has come before us this yeav."—Sattirday Review. 

" Mr. Feim is at his best in Patience Wins. It is sure to prove acceptable to 
youthful readers, and wiU give a good idea of that which was the real state of 
one of our largest manufacturing towns not many years ngo."— Guardian. 

Nat the Naturalist: A Boy's Adventures in the Eastern 
Seas. By G. Manville Penn. With 8 full-page Pictures. Crown 
8vo, cloth elegant, 5 s. 

" Among the best of the many good books for boys that have come out this 
season." — Times. 

"This sort of book encourages independence of character, develops resource, 
and teaches a boy to keep his eyes oiien."—Saticrday Review. 



The Missing" Merchantman. By Harry Collingwood. 

With 8 full -page Illustrations by W. H. Overend. Crown Svo, 
cloth elegant, olivine edges, 55. 

"Mr. Collingwood is facile prince ps as a teller of sea stories for boys, and the 
present is one of the best productions of his ^len."— Standard. 

"This is one of the author's best sea stories. The hero is as heroic as any boy 
could desire, and the ending is extremely happy."— £/i«w/i ^yeeldy. 

The Rover's Secret : a Tale of the Pirate Cays and Lagoons 
of Cuba. By Harry Collingwood. With 8 full-page Illustra- 
tions by W. C. Symons. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 

" The Rover's Secret is by far the best sea story we have read for years, and is 
certain to give unalloyed pleasiu-e to boys. The illustrations are fresh and 
vigorous. "—Saturday Revieiv. 

The Pirate Island: A Story of the South Pacific. By 
Harry Collingwood. Illustrated by 8 full -page Pictures by 
C. J. Staniland and J. E. Wells. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

"A capital story of the sea ; indeed in our opinion the author is superior in some 
respects as a marine novelist to tlie better known ilr. Clarke Russell. "— The Times. 

" Told in the most vivid and graphic language. It would be difficult to find a 
more thoroughly delightful gift-book." — Guardian. 

The Cong"© Rovers: A story of the Slave Squadron. By 

Harry Collingwood. With 8 full -page Illustrations by J. 

ScHoNBERG. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

"No better sea story has lately been vmtten than the Congo Rovers. It is as 
original as any boy could desire. "—Morning Post. 


The Seven Wise Scholars. By Ascott k. Hope. With 

nearly One Hvindred Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Square 
Svo, cloth elegant, gilt edges, 5s. 

"As full of fun as a volume of Punch; with illustrations, more laughter- 
provoking than most we have seen since Leech died."— Sheffield Independent. 

" A capital story, full of fun and happy comic fancies. The tale would put the 
sourest-tempered boy into a good humour, and to an imaginative child would be 
a source of keen delight."— Scotsman. 

The Wigrwam and the War-path: stories of the Bed 

Indians. By Ascott R Hope. With 8 fuU-page Pictures by 
Gordon Browne. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

" All the stories are told well, in simple spirited language and with a fulness of 
detail that makes them instructive as well as intevestiug."— Journal of Education. 



The Loss of John Humble: What Led to it, and what 

Came of It. By G. Norway. With 8 full-page Illustrations by 
John Schonberg. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 

John Humble, an orphan, is sent to sea with his Uncle Kolf, the captain 
of the Ei-l King, but in the course of certain adventures off the English 
coast, in which Rolf shows both skill and courage, the boy is left behind at 
Portsmouth. _ He escapes from an Enghsh gun-brig to a Norwegian vessel, 
the TAor, which is driven from her course in a voyage to Hammerfest, and 
wrecked on a desolate shore. The survivors experience the miseries of a 
long sojourn in the Arctic circle, with inadequate means of supporting life, 
but ultimately, with the aid of some friendly but thievish Lapps, they suc- 
ceed in making their way to a reindeer station and so southward to Tornea 
and home again. The story throughout is singularly vivid and truthful in 
its details, the individual characters are fresh and well marked, and a 
pleasant vein of humour reheves the stress of the more tragic incidents in 
the story. 


Giannetta: a Girl's story of Herself. By Eosa Mulholland. 
With 8 full-page Illustrations by Lockhart Bogle. Crown 8vo, 
cloth elegant, 5s. 

"Giannetta is a true heroine— warm-hearted, self-sacrificing, and, as all good 
women nowadays are, largely touched with the enthusiasm of humanity. The 
iUustrations are unusually good, and combine with the binding and printing to 
make this one of the most attractive gift-books of the season."— The Academy. 

"No better book could be selected for a young girl's reading, as its object is 
evidently to hold up a mirror, in which are seen some of the brightest and noblest 
traits in the female chara-cteT."— Schoolmistress. 

Perseverance Island: Or the Eobinson Crusoe of the 19th 
Century. By Douglas Frazar. With 12 full-page Illustrations. 
Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 5s. 

" This second Robinson Crusoe is certainly a marvellous man. His determi- 
nation to overcome all difficulties, and his subsequent success, should alone make 
this a capital book for boys. It is altogether a worthy successor to the ancient 
Eobinson Crusoe." — Glasgow Herald. 

Gulliver's Travels, illustrated by more than 100 Pictures 

by Gordon Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 

"By help of the admirable illustrations, and a little judicious skipping, it has 
enchanted a family party of ages varying from six to sixty. ^Vliich of the other 
Christmas books could stand this test?"— Journal of Education. 

" Mr. Gordon Browne is, to my thinking, incomparably the most artistic, 
spirited, and brilliant of our illustrators of books for boys, and one of the most 
humorous also, as his illustrations of 'Gulliver' amply tesiiiy."— Truth. 



The Universe : Or the infinitely Great and the Infinitely Little. 
A Sketch of Contrasts in Creation, and Marvels revealed and 
explained by Natural Science. By F. A. Pouchet, m.d. With 
272 Engravings on wood, of which 55 are full-page size, and a 
Coloured Frontispiece. Tenth Edition, medium 8vo, cloth elegant, 
gilt edges, 7s. 6d.; also morocco antique, 165. 

" We can honestly commend Professor Pouchet's book, which is admirably, as 
it is copiously illustrated."— TAe Times. 

"This book is as interesting as the most exciting romance, and a great deal 
more likely to be remembered to good purpose."— Standard. 

"Scarcely any book in French or in English is so likely to stimulate in the 
voung an interest in the physical phenomena."— Fortnightly Review. 


At the Back of the North Wind. By George Mac 
Donald, LL.D. "With 75 Illustrations by Arthur Hughes. 
Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 

"In At the Back of the North Wind we stand with one foot in fairyland and 
one on common earth. The story is thoroughly original, full of fancy and pathos, 
and underlaid with earnest but not too obtrusive teaching."— T/ie Times. 

Ranald Bannerman's Boyhood. By George Mac Donald, 

LL.D. With 36 Illustrations by Arthur Hughes. New Edition. 
Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 5s. 

"The sympathy with boy-nature in Ranald Bannerman's Boyhood is perfect. 
It is a beautiful picture of childhood, teaching by its impressions and suggestions 
all noble things."— British Quarterly Review. 

The Princess and the Goblin. By George Mac Donald, 
LL.D. With 30 Illustrations by Arthur Hughes, and 2 full- 
page Pictures by H. Petherick. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. Qd. 

"Little of what is written for children has the lightness of touch and play of 
fancy which are characteristic of George Mac Donald's fairy tales. Mr. Arthur 
Hughes's illustrations are all that illustrations should he."— Manchester Guardian. 

"A model of what a child's book ought to be— interesting, instructive, and 
poetical. We cordially recommend it as one of the very best gift-books we have 
yet come across." — Elgin Courant. 

The Princess and Curdie. By George Mac Donald, 
LL.D. With 8 full-page Illustrations by James Allen. Crown 
8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6cZ. 

" There is the finest and rarest genius in this brilliant story. Upgro-\vn people 
would do wisely occasionally to lay aside their newspapers and magazines to 
spend an hour with Cui'die and the '£vincess."—Sheffield Independent. 


Girl NeigfllbOUrS : Or, The Old Fashion and the New. By 

Sarah Tytler. With 8 full-page Illustrations by C. T. Garland. 

Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, olivine edges, 55. 

" One of the most effective and quietly humorous of Miss Sarah Tytler's stories, 
. . . Very healthy, very agreeable, and very well written."— Spectator. 


Thorn dyke Manor : A Tale of Jacobite Times. By Mart 
C. RowsELL. With 6 full-page Illustrations by L. Leslie Brooke. 
Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. Qd. 

Thorndyke Manor is an old house, near the mouth of the Thames, wiiich 
is convenient, on account of its secret vaults and situation, as the base 
of operations in a Jacobite conspiracy. In consequence its owner, a 
kindly, quiet, book-loving squire, who lives happily with his sister, bright 
Mistress Arnoril, finds himself suddenly involved by a treacherous steward 
in the closest meshes of the plot. He is conveyed to the Tower, but all 
difficulties are ultimately overcome, and his innocence is triumphantly 
proved by his sister. 

Traitor or Patriot? A Tale of the Eye-House Plot. By 

Mary C. Rowsell. With 6 full-page Pictures. Crown 8vo, cloth 

elegant, 3s. 6c?. 

" A romantic love episode, whose true characters are lifelike beings, not dry sticks 
as in many historical tales." — GrapJiic. 


Meg-'S Friend. By Alice Corkran. With 6 full-page 

Illustrations by Robert Powler. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6f/. 

"Another of Miss Corkran's charming books for girls, narrated in that simple 
and picturesque style which marks the authoress as one of the first amongst 
writers for young people." — The Spectator. 

Marg"ery Merton's Girlhood. By Alice Corkran. With 

6 full-page Illustrations by Gordon Browne. Crown 8vo, cloth 

extra, 3s. Qd. 

"Another book for girls we can warmly commend. There is a delightful 
piquancy in the experiences and trials of a young English girl who studies 
painting in Taris."— Saturday Review. 

Down the Snow Stairs: Or, From Good-night to Good- 
morning. By Alice Corkran. With 60 character Illustrations 
by Gordon Browne. New Edition. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 
olivine edges, 3s. 6d. 

"A fascinating wonder-book for children."— Athenceiim. 

"A gem of the first water, bearing upon every page the signet mark of genius. 
All is told with such simplicity and perfect naturalness that the dream appears 
to be a solid reality. It is indeed a Little Pilgrim's Progress."— C7i?-i;sfia» Leader. 



Afloat at Last : A Sailor Boy's Log of his Life at Sea. By 
John C. Hutchkson. With 6 full-page Illustrations by W. H. 
OvEREND. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6d. 

Mr. Hutcheson's reputation for the realistic treatment of life at sea will 
be fully sustained by the present volume — the narrative of a boy's experi- 
ences on board ship during his first voyage. From the stowing of the 
vessel in the Thames to her recovery from the Pratas Keef on which she is 
stranded, everything is described with the accuracy of perfect practical 
knowledge of ships and sailors; and the incidents of the story range from 
the broad humoui's of the fo'c's'le to the perils of flight from and fight 
with the pirates of the China Seas. The captain, the mate, the Irish boat- 
swain, the Portuguese steward, and the Chinese cook, are fresh and 
cleverly-drawn characters, and the reader throughout has the sense that 
he is on a real voyage with living men. 

The White Squall: A Story of the Sargasso Sea. By John 
C. HuTCHESON. With 6 full-page Illustrations by John Schonberg. 
Crown 8 to, cloth elegant, 3s. 6d. 

"Few writers have made such rapid improvement in the course of a few j'ears 
as has the author of this capital story. . . . Boys will find it difficult to lay 
down the book till they have got to the end."— Standard. 

"The sketches of tropical life are so good as sometimes to remind us of Tom 
Cringle and the Cruise of the Midge."— Times. 

The Wreck of the Nancy Bell: Or Cast Away on Ker- 

guelen Land. By John C. Hutcheson. Illustrated by 6 full-page 

Pictures. Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 

" A full circumstantial narrative such as boys delight in. The ship so sadly destined 
to wreck on Kerguelen Land is manned by a very lifelike party, passengers and 
ci-ew. The life in the Antarctic Iceland is well treated." — Atlienceum. 

Picked up at Sea: Or the Gold Miners of Miuturne Creek. 

By John C. Hutcheson. With 6 full-page Pictures. Qrown Svo, 

cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 

" The author's success with this book is so marked that it may well encoiurage him 
to further efforts. The description of mining life in the Far-west is true and accu- 
rate." — Standard. 

Sir Walter's Ward: A Tale of the Crusades. By William 

Everard. With 6 full-page Illustrations by Walter Paget. 

Crown Svo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 

" This book will prove a very acceptable present either to boys or girls. Both 
alike will take an interest in the career of Dodo, in spite of his unheroic name, 
and follow him through his numerous aud exciting adventures."— J. cade hi;/. 

Stories of Old Renown: Tales of Knights and Heroes. 

By AscoTT R Hope. With 100 Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 

New Edition. Crown Svo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6d. 

"A really fascinating book worthy of its telling title. There is, we venture to 
say, not a dull page iu the book, not a story which will not bear a second Tend- 
ing."— Guardian. 



Cousin Geoffrey and I. By Caroline Austin. With 6 
full-page Illustrations by W. Parkinson. Crown 8vo, cloth 
elegant, 3s. 6cZ. 

The only daughter of a countiy gentleman finds herself unprovided for 
at her father's death, and for some time lives as a dependant upon the 
kinsman who has inherited the property. Life is kept from being entirely 
unbearable to her by her young cousin Geoffrey, who at length meets with 
a serious accident for which she is held responsible. She is then passed 
on to other relatives, who prove even more objectionable, and at length, 
in despair, she runs away and makes a brave attempt to earn her own 
livelihood. Being a splendid rider, she succeeds in doing this, until the 
startling event which brings her cousin Geoffrey and herself together again, 
and solves the problem of the missing will. 

Hug"!! Herbert's Inheritance. By Caroline Austin. 
With 6 full-page Illustrations by C. T. Garland. Crown 8vo, 
cloth elegant, 3 s. 6 c/. 

"Will please by its simplicity, its tenderness, and its healthy interesting 
motive. It is admirably written."— Scotsman. 

"Well and gracefully written, full of interest, and excellent in tone."— School 


Storied Holidays: A Cycle of Eed-Ietter Days. By E. S. 
Brooks. With 12 full-page Illustrations by Howard Pyle. 
Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. 6d. 

" It is a downright good book for a senior boy, and is eminently readable from 
first to last."— Schoolmaster. 

"Replete with interest from Chapter I. to finis, and can be confidently recom- 
mended as one of the gems of Messrs. Blackie's collection." — Teachers' Aid. 

Chivalric Days: Stories of Courtesy and Courage iii the 
Olden Times. By E. S. Brooks. With 20 Illustrations by 
Gordon Browne and other Artists. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 

"We have seldom come across a prettier collection of tales. These charming 
stories of boys and girls of olden days are no mere fictitious or imaginary sketches, 
but are real and actual records of their sayings and doings. The illustrations are 
in Gordon Browne's happiest style."— Literary World. 

Historic Boys: Their Endeavours, their Achievements, and 
their Times. By E. S. Brooks. With 12 full-page Illustrations by 
K. B. Birch and John Schonberg. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. Qd. 

"A wholesome book, manly in tone, its character sketches enlivened by brisk 
dialogue. We advise schoolmasters to put it on their list of prizes." — Knowledge. 



Garnered Sheaves. A Tale for Boys. By Mrs. E. E. 

Pitman. With 4 full-page Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 

3s. 6d. 

"This is a story of the best sort ... a noble-looking book, illustrating faith in 
God, and commending to young minds all that is pure and true."— Rev. C. H. 
Spurgeon's Sword and Trowel. 

Life's Daily Ministry: A story of Everyday Service for 

others. By Mrs. E. E,. Pitman. With 4 full-page Illustrations. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6cZ. 

"Shows exquisite touches of a master hand. She has not only made a close 
study of human nature in all its phases, but she has acquired the artist's skill in 
depicting in graphic outline the characteristics of the beautiful and the good in 
life. "—Christian Union. 

My Governess Life: Or Earning my Living. By Mrs. E. 

It. Pitman. With 4 full-page Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth 

extra, 3s. Qd. 

"Full of sound teaching and bright examples of chavacter."— Sunday-school 


Silver Mill: A Tale of the Don Valley. By Mrs. E. H. Eead. 

With 6 full-page Illustrations by John Schonberg. Crown 8vo, 

cloth elegant, 3s. 6c?. 

"A good girl's story-book. The plot is interesting, and the heroine, Euth, a 
lady by birth, though brought up in a humble station, well deserves the more 
elevated position in which the end of the book leaves her. The pictures are very 
spirited." — Saturday Revieiv. 

Dora: Or a Girl without a Home. By Mrs. E. H. Eead. With 

6 full-page Illustrations. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. Qd. 

"It is no slight thing, in an age of nibbish, to get a story so pure and healthy 
as this." — The Academy. 


Brother and Sister: Or the Trials of the Moore Family. 

By Elizabeth J. Lysaght. With 6 full -page Illustrations. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. Qd. 

"A pretty stoiy, and well told. The plot is cleverly coustriicted, and the moral 
is excellent." — Athenceum. 


Laugh and Learn: A Home -book of instruction and 
Amusement for the Little Ones. By Jennett Humphkeys. Charm- 
ingly Illustrated. Square crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6c?. 

Laugh and Learn, a most comprehensive book for the nursery, supplies, 
what has long been wanted, a means whereby the mother or the governess 
may, in a series of pleasing lessons, commence and cany on systematic 
home instruction of the little ones. The various chapters of the Learn 
section carry the child through the "three R's" to easy stories for read- 
ing, and stories which the mother may read aloud, or which more advanced 
children may read to themselves. The Laugh section comprises simple 
drawing lessons, home amusements of every kind, innumerable pleasant 
games and occupations, rhymes to be learnt, songs for the veiy little ones, 
action songs, and music drill. 

The Search for the Talisman: A story of Labrador. 

By Henry Frith. With 6 full-page Illustrations by J. Schonberg. 

Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3.s. 6rf. 

"Mr. Frith's volume will be among those most read and highest valued. The 
adventures among seals, whales, and icebergs in Labrador will delight many a 
young reader, and at the same time give him an opportunity to widen his know- 
ledge of the Esquimaux, the heroes of many tales." — Pall Mall Gazette. 

Self-Exiled: A story of the High Sea^ and East Africa. By 

J. A. Steuart. With 6 full-page Illustrations by J. Schonberg. 

Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. Qd. 

"It is cram full of thrilling situations. The number of mu-aculous escapes 
from. death in all its shapes which the hero experiences in the course of a few 
months must be sufficient to satisfy the most voracioiis appetite."— Sc/iooZ»msfey. 

Reefer and Rifleman: a Tale of the Two Services. By 

J. Percy -Groves, late 27th Inniskillings. With 6 full -page 

Illustrations by John Schonberg. Crown 8vo, cloth elegant, 3s. Qd. 

"A good, old-fashioned, amphibious story of our fighting with the Frenchmen in 

the beginning of our century, with a fair sprinkling of fun and tvoUc."— Times. 

The Bubbling" Teapot. A Wonder story. By Mrs. L. W. 

Champney. With 12 full-page Pictures by Walter Satterlee. 

Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 
"Very literally a 'wonder story,' and a wild and fanciful one. N'evertheless 
it is made realistic enough, and there is a good deal of infomiation to be gained 
from it. The steam from the magic teapot bubbles up into a girl, and the little 
girl, when the fancy takes her, can cry herself back into a teapot. Transformed 
and enchanted she makes the tour of the globe."— The Times. 

Dr. JoUiflTe'S Boys: A Tale of Weston School. By Lewis 

Hough. With 6 fuU-page Pictures. Crown 8vo, cloth extra, 3s. 6d. 

" Young people who appreciate Tom £roic7i's School-days will find this story a 
worthy companion to that fascinating book. There is the same manliness of tone, 
truthfulness of outline, avoidance of exaggeration and caricature, and healthy 
morality as characterized the masterpiece of Mr. B.nghes."—Nevjcastle Journal. 



Illustrated by eminent Artists. In crown 8vo, cloth elegant. 

New Volumes. 

The Hermit Hunter of the Wilds. By Gordon Stables, 
CM., M.D., KN. 

A dreamy boy, who likes to picture himself as the Hermit Hunter of the 
Wilds, receives an original but excellent kind of training from a sailor- 
naturalist uncle, and at length goes to sea with the hope of one day finding 
the lost son of his uncle's close friend. Captain Herbert. He succeeds in 
tracing him through the forests of Ecuador, where the abducted boy has 
become an Indian chief. Afterwards he is discovered on an island which 
had been used as a treasure store by the buccaneers. The hero is accom- 
panied through his many adventures by the very king of cats, who deserves 
a place amongst the most famous animals of fiction. 

Miriam's Ambition: A story for Children. By Evelyn 
Miriam's ambition is to make some one happy, and her endeavour to 
carry it out in the case of an invalid boy, carries with it a pleasant train of 
romantic incident, solving a mystery which had thrown a shadow over 
several lives. A charming foil to her grave and earnest elder sister is to 
be found in Miss Babs, a small coquette of five, whose humorous child-talk 
is one of the most attractive featm-es of an excellent story. 

White Lilac : Or The Queen of the May. By Amy Walton. 

Wlien the vicar's wife proposed to call Mrs. White's daughter by the 
heathen name of Lilac, all the villagers shook their heads; and they con- 
tinued to shake them sagely when Lilac's father was shot dead by poachers 
just before the christening, and when, years after, her mother died on the 
very day Lilac was crowned Queen of the May. And yet White Lilac 
proved a fortune to the relatives to whose charge she fell — a veritable good 
brownie, who brought luck wherever she went. The story of her life forms 
a most readable and admirable rustic idyl, and is told with a fine sense of 
rustic character. 

Little Lady Clare. By Evelyn Everett-Green. 

"Certamly one of the prettiest, reminding us in its quaintness and tender 
pathos of Mrs. Ewing's delightful tales. This is quite one of the best stories Miss 
Green's clever pen has yet given us." — Literary World. 

"We would particularly liring it under the notice of those in charge of girls' 
schools. The story is admirably told." — Schoolmaster. 

The Eversley Secrets. By Evelyn Everett-Green. 

" Is one of the best children's stories of the year." — Academy. 
" A clever and well- told story. Roy Eversley is a very touching picture of high 
principle and unshrinking self-devotion in a good purpose." — Guardian. 

The Brig" ** Audacious." By Alan Cole. 

"This is a real boys' book. We have great pleasure in recommending it." — 
English Teacher. 

" Bright and vivacious in style, and fresh and wholesome as a breath of sea air 
in tone." — Court Journal. 



The Saucy May. By H. Frith. 

" The book is certainly both interesting and Qxciimg."— Spectator. 
" itr. Frith gives a new picture of life on the ocean wave which will be acceptable 
to all young people." — Sheffield Independent. 

Jasper's Conquest. By Elizabeth J. Ltsaght. 

" One of the best boys' books of the season. It is full of stirring adventure and 
startling episodes, and yet conveys a splendid moral throughout."— Schoolmaster. 

Sturdy and Strong*: Or, How George Andrews made his 

Way. By G. A. Hentt. 

"The history of a hero of everyday life, whose love of truth, clothing of 
modesty, and innate pluck carry him, naturally, from poverty to aflaueuce. He 
stands as a good instance of chivalry in domestic life."— TAe Empire. 

Gutta-Percha Willie, The Working Genius. By George 

Mac Donald, LL.D, 

" Had we space we would fain quote page after page. All we have room to say 
is, get it for your boys and girls to read for themselves, and if they can't do that 
read it to them." — Practical Teacher. 

The War of the Axe : Or Adventures in South Africa. By 

J. Percy-Groves. 

" The story of their final escape from the Caffres is a marvellous bit of writing. 
. . . The story is well and brilliantly told, and the illustrations are especially 
good and etiective."— Literary World. 

The Lads of Little Clayton: stories of Village Boy Life. 

By R. Stead. 

"A capital book for boys. They will learn from its pages what true boy cour- 
age is. They will learn further to avoid all that is petty and mean if they read 
the tales aright. They may be read to a class with great profit." — Schoolmaster. 

Ten Boys who lived on the Road from Long Ago to Now. 

By Jane Andrews. With 20 Illustrations. 

" The idea of this book is a very liappy one, and is admirably carried out. "We 
have followed the whole course of the work with exquisite pleasure. Teachers 
should find it particularly interesting and suggestive."— PracficaZ Teacher. 

Insect Ways on Summer Days in Garden, Forest, Field, 

and Stream. By Jennett Humphreys. With 70 Illustrations. 

"The book will prove not only instructive but delightful to every child whose 
mind is beginning to inquire and reflect upon the wonders of nature. It is 
capitally illustrated and very tastefully bound." — Academy. 

A Waif of the Sea: Or the Lost Found. By Kate Wood. 

" A very touching and pretty tale of town and country, fall of pathos and interest, 
told in a style which deserves the highest praise." — Edinburgh Cov.rant. 



Winnie's Secret: A story of Faith and Patience. By Kate 


" One of the best story-books we have read. Girls will be charmed with the 
tale, and delighted that everything turns out so vfeW."— Schoolmaster. 

Miss WillOWburn's Offer. By Sarah Doudney. 

"Patience "Willowburn is one of Miss Doudney's best creations, and is the one 
personality in the story which can be said to give it the character of a book not 
for young ladies but for g\x\?,."— Spectator. 

A Garland for Girls. By Louisa M. Alcott. 

"The Garland vfiW delight our girls, and show them how to make their lives 
fragrant with good deeds. "—^rifisA Weekly. 
" These little tales are the beau ideal of girls' s,toxiQi."— Christian World. 

Hetty Gray: Or Nobody's Bairn. By Eosa Mulholland. 

" A charming story for young folks. Hetty is a delightful creature— piquant, 
tender, and true— and her varying fortunes are perfectly realistic." — World. 

Brothers in Arms: A story of the Crusades. By F. Bay- 
ford Harrison. 

"Full of striking incident, is very fairly illustrated, and may safely be chosen as 
sure to prove interesting to young people of both sexes." — Guardian. 

The Ball of Fortune : Or Ned Somerset's Inheritance. By 

Charles Pearce. 

"A capital story for boys. It is simply and brightly written. There is plenty 
of incident, and the interest is sustained tliroughout." — Journal of Education. 

Miss Fenwick's Failures: Or "Peggy Pepper -Pot." By 

EsME Stuart. 

"Esm^ Stuart may be commended for producing a girl true to real life, who 
will put no nonsense into young hends."— Graphic. 

Gytha'S Message: a Tale of Saxon England. By Emma 


" This is a charmingly told story. It is the sort of book that all girls and some 
boys like, and can only get good from."— Journal of Education. 

My Mistress the Queen: A Tale of the 17th Century. By 
M. A. Paull. 

" The style is pure and graceful, the presentation of manners and character 
has been well studied, and the story is full of interest."— Sco^s?«ffl?i. 

" This is a charming book. The old-time sentiment Avhich pervades the volume 
renders it all the more allming."— Western Mercury. 



The Stories of Wasa and Menzikoff : The Deliverer of 

Sweden, and the Favourite of Czar Peter. 

"Both are stories worth telling more than once, and it is a happy thought to 
have put them side by side. Plutarch himself has no more suggestive com- 
parison."— S2>ectotor. 

Stories of the Sea in Former Days: Narratives of 

Wreck and Eescue. 

"Next to an original sea-tale of sustained interest come well-sketched collec- 
tions of maritime peril and suffering which awaken the sympathies by the realism 
of fact. 'Stories of the Sea' are a very good specimen of the kind."— The Times. 

Tales of Captivity and Exile. 

"It would be difficult to place in the hands of young people a book which 
combines interest and instruction in a higher degree."— J/anc/ies^er Courier. 

Famous Discoveries by Sea and Land. 

"Such a volume may providentially stir up some youths by the divine fire 
kindled by these 'great of old' to lay open other lands, and show their vast 
resources. " — Perthshire Advertiser. 

Stirring Events of History. 

"The volume will fairly hold its place among those which make the smaller 
ways of history pleasant and attractive. It is a gift-book in which the interest 
will not be exhausted with one reading."— Guardian. 

Adventures in Field, Flood, and Forest, stories of 

Danger and Daring. 

"One of the series of books for young people which Messrs. Blackie excel in 
producing. The editor has beyond all question succeeded admirably. The pre- 
sent book cannot fail to be read with interest and advantage."— Academy. 

Jack O' Lanthorn: A Tale of Adventure. By Henry Frith. 

"The narrative is crushed full of stirring incident, and is sure to be a prime 
favourite with our boys, who will be assisted by it in mastering a sufficiently 
exciting chapter in the history of England."— C/iris< tft?i. Leader. 

The Family Failing*. By Darlet Dale. 

"At once an amusing and an interesting story, and a capital lesson on the 
value of contentedness to young and old alike."— Aberdee7i Journal. 

The Joyous Story of TotO. By Laura E. Eichards. 
With 30 humorous and fanciful Illustrations by E. H. Garrett. 

" An excellent book for children who are old enough to appreciate a little 
delicate humour. It should take its place beside Lewis Carroll's unique works, 
and find a special place in the affections of boys and g\v\5."—Birmmgham Gazette. 



With Illustrations in Colour and black and tint. In crown 8vo, 
cloth elegant. 

New Volumes. 

Sam Silvan's Sacrifice : The story of Two Fatherless Boys. 

By Jesse Colman. 

The story of two brothers — the elder a lad of good and steady disposi- 
tion ; the younger nervous and finely-strung, but weaker and more selfish. 
The death of their grandparents, by whom they are being brought up, leads 
to their passing through a number of adventures in uncomfortable homes 
and among strange people. In the end the elder brother's generous care 
results in his sacrificing his own life to save that of his brother, who realizes 
when it is too late the full measure of his indebtedness. 

A Warrior King*: The story of a Boy's Adventures in 
Africa. By J. Evelyn. 

A story full of adventure and romantic interest. Adrian Englefield, 
an Enghsh boy of sixteen, accompanies his father on a journey of explora- 
tion inland from the West Coast. He falls into the hands of the Bcrin- 
aquas, and becomes the friend of their prince, Morj^osi, but is on the point 
of being sacrificed when he is saved by the capture of the kraelah by a 
neigiibouring hostile tribe. He is soon after retaken by the Berinaquas, 
and saves the life of Moryosi. The two tribes are ultimately united, and 
Adrian and his friends are set at liberty. 

Susan. By Amy Walton. 

"A clever little story, ^vritten with some humour. The authoress shows a 
great deal of insight into children's feelings and motives."— Pall Mall Gazette. 

"A Pair of Clogs:" And other stories. By Amy Walton. 

"These stories are decidedly Interesting, and unusually true to nature. For 
children between nine and fourteen this hook can be thoroughly commended."— 

The Hawthorns. By Amy Walton. 

"A remarkably vivid and clever study of child-life. At this species of work 
Amy Walton has no superior."— C/imimn Leader. 

Dorothy's Dilemma: A Tale of the Time of Charles I. 

By Caroline Austin. 

"An exceptionally well-told story, and will be warmly welcomed by children. 
The little heroine, Dorothy, is a charming creation."— Cottr^ Journal. 

Marie's Home: Or, a Glimpse of the Past. By Caroline 


"An exquisitely told story. The heroine is as fine a type of girlhood as one 
could wish to set before our little British damsels of to-di^y."— Christian Leader. 



Warner's Chase : Or the Gentle Heart. By Annie S. Swan. 

"In Milly Warren, the heroine, who softens the hard heart of her rich uncle 
and thus unwittingly restores the family fortunes, we have a fine ideal of real 
womanly goodness. " — Schoolmaster. 

"A good book for boys and girls. There is no sickly goodyism in it, but a tone 
of quiet and true religion that keeps its o^vn place." — Perthshire Advertiser. 

Aboard the **Atalanta:" The story of a Truant. By 

Henry Frith. 

"The story is very interesting and the descr'ptions most graphic. We doubt 
if any boy after reading it would be tempted to the great mistake of running 
away from school under almost any pretext •wiiD.tevev."— Practical Teacher. 

The Penang" Pirate and The Lost Pinnace. By John C. 


"A book which boys will thoroughly enjoy: rattling, adventurous, and romantic, 
and the stories are thoroughly healthy in tone."— Aberdeen Journal. 

Teddy: The story of a "Little Pickle." By John C. Hutcheson. 

"He is an amusing little fellow with a rich fund of animal spirits, and when at 
lengtli he goes to sea Avith Uncle Jack he speedily sobers down under the discip- 
line of Me."— Saturday Review. 

Linda and the Boys. By Cecilia Selby Lowndes. 

" The book is essentially a child's book, and will be heartily appreciated by the 
young folk."— T/ie Academy. 

"Is not only told in an artless, simple way, but is full of the kind of humour 
that children love." — Liverpool Mercury. 

Swiss Stories for Children and those who Love 

Children. From the German of Madam Johanna Spyri. 
By Lucy Wheelock. 

" Charming stories. They are rich in local colouring, and, what is better, in 
genuine pathos." — The Times. 

"These most delightful children's tales are essentially for children, but would 
fascinate older and less enthusiastic minds with their delicate romance and the 
admirable portraiture of the hard life of the Swiss peasantry."— S^^ecto tor. 

The Squire's Grandson: a Devonshire story. By J. M. 
Call WELL. 

"A healthy tone pervades this story, and the lessons of courage, filial affection, 
and devotion to duty on the part of the yoimg hero cannot fail to favom-ably 
impress all young xe&(\.ev?,."— Schoolmaster. 

Mag-na Charta Stories: Or struggles for Freedom in the 
Olden Time. Edited by Arthur Gilman, a.m. With 12 full- 
page Illustrations. 

"A book of special excellence, which ought to be in the hands of all boys." — 

Educational Neivs. 



The Wings of Courage; And The Cloud - Spinner. 
Translated from the French of GtEOKGE Sand, by Mrs. Cobkran. 

" Mrs. Corkrau has earned our gratitude by translating into readable English these 
two charming little stories." — Athenceam. 

Chipp and Chatter: Or, Lessons from Field and Tree. 

By Alice Banks. With 54 Illustrations by Gordon Browne. 

"We see the humbling influence of love on the haughty harvest-mouse, we are 
touched by the sensibility of the tender-hearted ant, and may profit by the moral 
of ' the disobedient maggot.' The drawings are spirited and fanny."— The Times. 

Four Little Mischiefs. By Eosa Mulholland. 

" Graphically written, and abounds in touches of genuine humour and innocent 
fun." — Freonan. "A charming bright story about real children." — Watchman. 

New Light through Old Windows. A Series of Stories 

illustrating Fables of ^sop. By Gregson Gow. 

"Tlie most delightfiilly-written little stories one can easily find in the literature 
of the season. Well constructed and brightly told." — Glasgoiv Herald. 

Little Tottie, and Two Other Stories. By Thomas Archer. 

"We can warmly commend all three stories; the book is a most alluring prize 
for the younger ones." — Schoolmaster. 

Naughty Miss Bunny: Her Tricks and Troubles. By 
Clara Mulholland. 

"This naiighty child is positively delightful. Papas should not omit Naughty 
Miss Bunny from their list of juvenile presents," — Land and Water. 

Adventures of Mrs. Wishing-to-tae, and other stories. 

By Alice Corkran. 

"Simply a charming book for little gir\%."— Saturday Revieiv. 

"Just in the style and spirit to win the hearts of children."— i)ai7y Neivs. 

Our Dolly: Her Words and Ways. By Mrs. K. H. Bead. 
With many Woodcuts, and a Frontispiece in colours. 

" Prettily told and prettily illustrated." — Guardian. 

"Sure to be a great favourite with young children." — School Guardian. 

Fairy Fancy: What she Heard and Saw. By Mrs. E. H. 
Read. With many Woodcuts and a Coloured Frontispiece. 

" All is pleasant, nice reading, with a little knowledge of natural history and 
other matters gently introduced and divested "of dryness."— P^ac^jcrtZ Teacher. 



With Illustrations in Colour, and black and tint. In crown 8vo, 
cloth elegant. 

New Volumes. 

Tales of Daring and Danger. By g. a. Hentt. 

A selection of five of Mr. Henty's short stories of adventure by land and 
sea. The volume contains the narrative of an officer's bear-shooting expe- 
dition, and his subsequent captivity among the Dacoits ; a strange tale of 
an Indian fakir and two British officers; a tale of the gold-diggings at Pine- 
tree Gulch, in which a boy saves, at the cost of his own life, a miner who 
had befriended him, and two others. 

The Seven Golden Keys. By James E. Arnold. 

Hilda gains entrance into fairy-land, and is there shown a golden casket 
with seven locks. To obtain the treasure it contains, it is necessary that 
she should make seven journeys to find the keys, and in her travels she 
passes through a number of adventures and learns seven important lessons 
— to speak the truth, to be kind, not to trust to appearances, to hold fast 
to all that is good, &c. It is one of the most interesting of recent fairy- 
books, as well as one of the most instructive. 

The Story of a Queen. By Mary c. Eowsell. 

A pleasant version for young people of the romantic story of Marie of 
Brabant, the young queen of Philip the Bold of France. Though the 
interest centres in a heroine rather than in a hero, the book has no lack of 
adventure, and will be read with no less eagerness by boys than by girls. 
To the latter it will give a fine example of patient, strong and noble woman- 
hood, to the former it will teach many lessons in truthfulness and chivalry. 

Joan's Adventures, At the North Pole and Elsewhere. By Alice 


"This is a most delightful fairy story. The charming style and easy prose 
narrative makes its resemblance striking to Hans Andersen's." — Spectator. 

Edwy: Or, Was he a Coward? By Annette Ltster. 

" This is a charming story, and sufficiently varied to suit children of all ages." 
— The Academy. 

Filled with Gold. By Jennie Perrett. 

" The tale is interesting, and gracefully told. Miss Perrett's description of life 
on the quiet Jersey farm will have a great chssm."— Spectator. 

The Battlefield Treasure. By r. Bayford Harrison. 

"Jack Warren is a lad of the Tom Brown type, and his search for treasure and 
the sequel are sure to prove interesting to hoys."— English Teacher. 

By Order of Queen Maude : A Story of Home Life. By Louisa 


"The tale is brightly and cleverly told, and forms one of the best children's 
books which the season has produced."— .4cade?nr/. 



Our General : A story for Girls. By Elizabeth J. Lysaght. 

"A young girl of indomitable spirit, to whom all instinctively turn for guid- 
ance—a noble pattern for givl^."— Guardian. 

Aunt Hesba'S Charge. By Elizabeth J. Lysaght. 

"This well-written book tells how a maiden aunt is softened by the influence 
of two Indian children who are unexpectedly left upon her hands. Mrs. Lysaght's 
style is bright and pleasant."— -4cade?>i?/. 

Into the Haven. By Annie S. Swan, 

" No story more attractive, by reason of its breezy freshness, as well as for the 
practical lessons it conyeys,."— Christian Leader. 

Our Frank : And other Stories. By Amy Walton. 

" These stories are of the sort that children of the clever kind are sure to like." 

The Late Miss Hollingford. By Rosa Mulholland. 

" No book for girls published this season approaches this in the charm of its 
telling, which will be equally appreciated by persons of all ages. "—Standard. 

The Pedlar and His Dog. By Maky c. Kowsell. 

" The opening chapter, with its description of Necton Fair, will forcibly remind 
many readers of George Eliot. Taken altogether it is a delightful story."— 
Wester7i Morning News. 

Yarns on the Beach. By G. A. Henty. 

"This little book should find special favour among boys. The yarns are full 
of romance and adventure, and are admirably calculated tofoster a manly spirit." 
—The Echo. 

A Terrible Coward. By G. Manville Eenn. 

"Just such a tale as boys will delight to read, and as they are certain to profit 
by." — Aberdeen Journal. 

Tom Finch's Monkey : And other Yarns. By J. C. HuTCHESON. 

"Stories of an altogether unexceptionable character, with adventures sufficient 
for a dozen books of its size." — IT. Service Gazette. 

Miss Grantley'S Girls, And the Stories She Told Them. By 
Thomas Archer. 

" For fireside reading more wholesome and highly entertaining reading for young 
people could not be found."— Northern Chronicle. 

Down and Up Again : Being some Account of the Felton Family, 
and the Odd People they Met. By Gregson Gow. 

" The story is very neatly told, with some fairly dramatic incidents, and cal- 
culated altogether to please young people. "—Scoisjna?i. 



The Troubles and Triumphs of Little Tim. A City Story. 
By Gregson Gow, 

"An undercurrent of sympathy with the struggles of the poor, and an 
ability to describe their feelings, eminently characteristic of Dickens, are 
marked features in Mr. Gow's story."— iV. B. Mail. 

The Happy Lad : A story of Peasant Life in Norway. From the 
Norwegian of Bjornson. 

"This pretty story has natm-al eloquence which seems to carry us back 
to some of the love stories of the '^\b\e."— Aberdeen Free Press. 

The Patriot Martyr : And other Narratives of Female Heroism in 
Peace and War. 

"It should be read with interest by every girl who loves to learn what 
her sex can accomplish in times of danger."— Bristol Times. 

Madge's Mistake; A Recollection of Girlhood. By Annie E. 

"We cannot speak too highly of this delightful little tale. It abounds 
in interesting and laughable incidents."~Bristol Times. 

Box of Stories. Packed for Young Folk by Horace Happtman. 

When I was a Boy in China. By Yan Phou Lee, a 

native of China, now resident in the United States. Illustrated. 
Crown 8vo, cloth extra, Is. 6d. 

"This little book has the advantage of having been written not only by a 
Chinaman, but by a man of culture. His book is as interesting to adults as 
it is to children." — The Guardian. 

"Not only exceedingly interesting, but of great informative value, for it 
gives to English readers a peep into the interior and private life of China 
such as has perhaps never before been afforded."— T/ie Scottish Leader. 


Square 16mo, neatly bound in cloth extra. Each book contains 
128 pages and a Coloured Illustration. 

New Volumes. 

Mr. Lipseombe's Apples. By Julia Goddard. 
Gladys : or the Sister's Charge. By E. O'Byrne. 
A Gypsy against Her Will. By Emma Leslie. 
The Castle on the Shore. By Isabel Hornibrook. 
An Emigrant Boy's Story. By Ascott R. Hope. 
Jock and his Friend. By Cora Langton. 
John a' Dale. By Mary C. Rowsell. 




In the Summer Holidays. By Jen- 

NETT Humphreys. 

How the Strike Began. By Emma 

Tales from the Russian of Madame 
Kubalensky. By G. Jenner. 

Cinderella's Cousin, and Other 
Stories. By Penelope. 

Their New Home. 


By Annie S. 

Janie's Holiday. By C. Eedford. 

A Boy Musician: Or, the Young Days 
of Mozart. 

Hatto's Tower. By Mary C. Eow- 


Fairy Lovebairn's Favourites. By 
J. Dickinson. 

Alf Jetsam: or Found Afloat. 
Mrs. George Cupples. 


The Redfords: An Emigrant Story. 


Missy. By F. Bayford Harrison. 

Hidden Seed : or, A Year in a Girl's 
Life. By Emma Leslie. 

Ursula's Aunt. By Annie S. Fenn. 

Jack's Two Sovereigns. By Annie 
S. Fenn. 

A Little Adventurer: or How Tommy 
Trefit went to look for his Father. 
By Gregson Gow. 

Olive Mount. By Annie S. Fenn. 

Three Little Ones. Their Haps and 
Mishaps. By C. Langton. 

Tom Watkins' Mistake. 


Two Little Brothers. 
RiET M. Capes. 

By Emma 
By M. Har- 

The New Boy at Merriton. By 

Julia Goddard. 

The Children of Hayeombe. 

Annie S. Fenn. 

The Cruise of the 
F. M. Holmes. 

Petrel." By 

The Wise Princess. ByM. Harriet 
M. Capes. 

The Blind Boy of Dresden and 
his Sister. 

Jon of Iceland : A Story of the Far 

Stories from Shakespeare. 

Every Man in his Place: Or a City 
Boy and a Forest Boy. 

Fireside Fairies and Flower 

Fancies. Stories for Girls. 

To the Sea in Ships : Stories of Suf- 
fering and Saving at Sea. 

Jack's Victory: and other Stories 
about Dogs. 

Story of a King, told by one of his 

Prince Alexis, or "Beauty and the 


Little Daniel; 
the Rhine. 

a Stoiy of a Flood on 

Sasha the Serf: and other Stories of 
Russian Life. 

True Stories of Foreign History. 

4tO, one shilling EACH. 



Each book contains 32 pages 4to, and is illustrated on every page 
by Pictures printed in colours. 



Neatly bound in cloth extra. Each contains 96 pages and a Coloured 

New Volumes. 

Things will Take a Turn. By Beatrice Harraden, 

The Lost Thimble: and other Stories. By Mrs. Musgrave. 

Max OP Baby: the Story of a very Little Boy. By Ism ay Thorn. 

Jack-a-Dandy; or the Heir of Castle Fergus. By E. J. Lysaght. 

A Day of Adventures : A Story for little Girls. By Charlotte Wyatt. 

The Golden Plums, and other Stories. By Frances Clare. 

The Queen of Squats. By Isabel 


Shucks : A Story for Boys. By Emma 

Sylvia Brooke. By JI. Harriet M. 

The Little Cousin. By A. S. Fenn. 
In Cloudland. By Mrs. Musgraye. 
Jack and the Gypsies. By Kate 

Hans the Painter. By Mary C. 

Little Troublesome. By Isabel 


My Lady May: And one other Story. 
By Harriet Boultwood. 

A Little Hero. By Mrs. Mus- 

Prince Jon's Pilgrimage. By 

Jessie Fleming. 

Harold's Ambition : Or a Dream of 
Fame. By Jennie Perrett. 

Sepperl the Drummer Boy. By 

Mary C. Rowsell. 

Aboard the Mersey. By Mrs. 
George Cupples. 

A Blind Pupil. By Annie S. Fenn. 

Lost and Found. By Mrs. Carl 

Fisherman Grim. By Mary C. 

"The same good character pervades all these books. They are admirably 
adapted for the young. The lessons deduced are such as to mould children's 
minds in a good groove. We cannot too highly commend them for their excel- 
lence." — Schoolmistress. 


Fully Illustrated vsdth Woodcuts and Coloured Plates. 64 pp. , 32mo, 
cloth. Sixpence each. 

Tales Easy and Small for the Youngest of All. In no word will you see more 
letters than three. By Jennett Humphreys. 

Old Dick Grey and Aunt Kate's W^ay. Stories in little words of not more than 
four letters. By Jennett Humphreys. 

Maud's Doll and Her Walk. In Picture and Talk. In little words of not 
more than four letters. By Jennett Humphreys. 

In Holiday Time. And other Stories. In little words of not more than five 
letters. By Jennett Humphreys. 

Whisk and Buzz. By Mrs. A. H. Garlick. 




Neatly bound in cloth extra. Each contains 6-i pages and a Coloured Cut. 
A Little Man of War. By L. E. 


Lady Daisy. By Caroline Stewart. 
Dew. By H. Mary Wilson. 
Chris's Old Violin. By J. Lockhart. 
Mischievous Jack. By A. Corkran. 
The Twins. By L. E. Tiddeman. 
Pet's Project. By Cora Langton. 
The Chosen Treat. By Charlotte 

Little Neighbours. By Annie S. 

Jim: A Story of Child Life. By CHRIS- 
TIAN Burke. 

Little Curiosity: Or, A German Christ- 
mas. By J. M. Callwell. 

Sara the Wool-gatherer. By W. L. 


Fairy Stories: told by Penelope. 
A New Year's Tale: and other stories. 

From the German. By M. A. CURRIE. 
Little Mop: and other Stories. By 

Mrs. Charles Bray. 
The Tree Cake : and other Stories. 

By W. L. RooPER. 

Nurse Peggy, and Little Dog Trip. 
Fanny's King. By Darley Dale. 
Wild Marsh Marigolds. ByD. Dale. 
Kitty's Cousin. By Hannah B. 

Cleared at Last. By Julia God- 


Little Dolly Forbes. By Annie S. 

A Year with Nellie. By A. S. Fenn. 

The Little Brown Bird. 

The Maid of Domremy: and other 

Little Eric: a Story of Honesty. 

Uncle Ben the Whaler. 

The Palace of Luxury. 

The Charcoal Burner. 

Willy Black: a Story of Doing Right. 

The Horse and His Ways. 

The Shoemaker's Present. 

Lights to Walk by. 

The Little Merchant. 

Nicholina: a Story about an Iceberg. 

"A very praiseworthy series of Prize Books. Most of the stories are designed 
to enforce some important moral lesson, such as honesty, industry, kindness, 
helpfulness."— .ScAooi Giiardian. 


Each 64 pages, ISmo, Illustrated, in Pictui-e Boards. 

A Start in Life. By J. Lockhart. 
Happy Childhood. By Aimee de 

Venoix Dawson. 
Dorothy's Clock. By Do. 
Toddy. By L. E. TiDDEMAN. 

Stories about my Dolls. By Felicia 

Stories about my Cat Timothy, 

Delia's Boots. By W. L. Rooper. 

Lost on the Rocks. By R. Scotter. 

A Kitten's Adventures. By Caro- 
line Stewart. 

Holidays at Sunnycroft. By Annie 
S. Swan. 

Climbing the Hill. By Do. 

A Year at Coverley. By Do. 

Phil Foster. By J. Lockhart. 

Papa's Birthday. By W. L. Rooper. 

The Charm Fairy. By Penelope. 

Little Tales for Little Children. 

Worthy of Trust. By H. B. Mac- 

Brave and True. By Gregson Gow. 

Johnnie Tupper's Temptation. Do. 

Maudie and Bertie. Do. 

The Children and the Water-Lily. 
By Julia Goddard. 

Poor Tom Olliver. By Do. 

Fritz's Experiment. By Letitia 

Lucy's Christmas-Box.