The next morning I was out of my bed early, and in the park before my two comrades were out of their beds. I wanted to see if Jeff Davis had returned to Richmond, and, after breakfast, I took my accustomed walk, from which I could obtain a view of his office door.

I can recall that beautiful Autumn day on the Capitol Grounds as distinctly as if was but a day or two ago. The trees were putting on their most beautiful shades of color, the air was fresh and bracing, and I, having fully recovered from my recent weakness, was again so well and bright that I almost felt in my youthful, impulsive way, that it would be an easy task to go right up to Manassas that day to see what Mr.

Davis was doing, and, if his movements were not satisfactory, I could continue my walk on to Washington.

There were at all hours of the day a great many people in the park. They were of all kinds, from the provisional Congressman and Virginia State Assemblyman, Confederate Government, down to refugees, citizens, soldiers and spies.

As I have previously said, there was always to be seen in this beautiful square any number of people, and on this October morning it seemed as if every person who wanted to go any place in the city were making it convenient to walk through the square to their destination.

There was eternally some Confederate soldiers and officers loafing about on the benches. I had become so accustomed to the boys in gray, in the streets, that I had forgotten to be at all afraid to meet with and to talk to them. This morning in particular I was perhaps unduly reckless, because I was so eager to obtain some further information about this advance.

Seeing a group of three nice looking soldiers talking together, a little distance from where I stood, I determined on the spur of the moment to join them, and, if an opportunity was afforded me, I would try to learn from them what they knew of the Rebel plans.

A group of three soldiers on a lark is not exactly the source that I would have applied to for information of an army's proposed movements six months later, but, as I have said, I was young then and fresh in the war service.

I approached, and addressed the boys a mild and meek inquiry as to a good place to enlist in "our army." This was a question that interested them all, and every fellow was at once eager to give me the desired information, which was to the effect that they had the very best Captain in the army.

They belonged to Louisiana, they said, and were recruits from New Orleans, and were on their way then to join the army at Manassas, having arrived in Richmond the day previously, and were laying over until the officer in charge secured some necessary transportation or other authority at the War Office.

I was urged to go with them. They declared that there was to be some great fun soon--that their officer knew all about it and had told them of the plan for the campaign.

The story they had did not differ materially from that I had heard from our own boys, and I judged safely enough that, as they were but recently from New Orleans, they could not know much more about the army at Manassas than I did. While we talked together these few moments, we all stood in a close group on one of the broad walks, the conversation being carried on with such a degree of earnestness on their part that we scarcely noticed the persons who were constantly passing us, until one of the Virginia police-soldiers came up to us with his gun and politely ordered the crowd not to block up the way. We moved off a little and sat down to finish the contract they had undertaken--of inducing me to join them.

The police-soldier walked off a little piece, and then, taking a position where two paths joined, he stood like one of the statues for a moment; then, as if suddenly imbued with life, his arms flew about as he brought his gun to a "present." Passing him were two gentlemen--one quite portly and red-faced, the other a slender thin-faced gentleman in a dark suit of steel gray. As they came closer, we all watched to see who they might be, as the guard had saluted. The big-faced gentleman was doing all the talking--the thin-faced one was close to me before I recognized him. He was so intent on hearing the old man's talk that he did not look toward us at all; and, after they had passed, I said to the soldiers: "That's President Davis!" They were, of course, all anxious to get another glimpse of their great man, and one of them hastily followed after while one of the others said in his slow, deliberate way:

"I thought so; because he looked just like a Confederate postage stamp."

At that time Mr. Davis' picture was on the stamps recently issued.

I took this opportunity to get away from them, by saying that I must join one of our own Maryland regiments, and started off as if I must find one right away.

Jeff Davis was back in Richmond, as I had discovered with my own eyes.

In my daily rounds, the next source of information I sought was the newspapers offices, because the crowd that was always to be found about them seemed to do more satisfactory blowing than any that I could strike elsewhere. They commented pro and con upon the bulletins that were sometimes put out; or, in fact, it seemed as if this daily gathering at the _Examiner_ office, a few doors around the corner from Main, was a sort of a news clearing-house, where a great many of the citizens of the better class came to tell all they knew and to hear all that any others had to tell.

It was through this channel that I obtained some important clues.

While I was in Richmond, the Ball's Bluff, or Leesburg, disaster occurred, and most eagerly did I read all that appeared in Richmond about that distressing affair.

The _Examiner_ and _Whig_ articles on this "great victory," if reproduced to-day, would make some interesting reading, of a character that would stir up the blood of the old soldiers, even now, about as quickly as anything I know of.

The prevailing sentiment or feeling in Richmond at the time seemed to be, that this "great achievement of the Confederates" merely confirmed the opinions that had been previously uttered, based on the battle of Bull Run, "that one Southern was equal to five Yankees."

The patronizing and superior manner with which those Richmond people talked of the battle of Ball's Bluff, which, in fact, was almost a massacre, made such an impression on my mind that time has not and never can efface.

The Richmond papers, too, in those days, I recall very distinctly, found it necessary to apologize for, or defend, General Stone, for his part in the affair.

It was through this press channel that we heard of General Butler's operations in North Carolina. The old man had evidently done something down there that hurt very much, which they did not print, as the city press was filled almost every day with abuse of him and the Yankees.

I gathered that it was about Henry A. Wise, who had a son or a brother killed by Butler's operations. One would think, from the manner in which the Virginians went on about this "outrage," that the Yankees had no right to kill a Virginia gentleman under any circumstances.

While I am on the subject of the Richmond press, I must not forget to explain that, as printing paper was becoming quite scarce in the South, they were obliged to economize, and frequently the Richmond _Examiner_ and _Whig_ appeared in half-sheets and letters; the quality of the paper became so inferior as to resemble in appearance the reverse side of the cheapest wall-paper.

I sent to the North, through the blockade, several times, marked copies of the Richmond papers.

The Pittsburgh _Chronicle_ actually published, while I was yet in Virginia, an extract from one of those papers, in which were some caustic comments on a case of a certain well-known Presbyterian clergyman of Allegheny, who had been dismissed by his church there for some harsh expressions of sympathy for the South.

I was thanked by name for the "courtesy" in sending the paper, which was exhibited at the office as a great curiosity, and am thankful even now, on reflection, that the Pittsburgh papers were not on the Richmond exchange list.

There were no earthworks of any description around Richmond in 1861.

This is a fact that is not generally known.

When I was before the Committee on the Conduct of the War, some months after the date of which I am writing, there was an effort being made by some of the Congressmen to prove to the country that McClellan's inactivity during the fall and winter was wholly inexcusable. This truth was fully brought out at the time and the facts proven.

There was probably not a day from August to November, 1861, that General McClellan could not have easily entered Richmond, with a very small force, from the Peninsula or via the South.

It was also fully established by the official papers of the Rebel authorities themselves that twenty-five per cent. of their army was incapacitated on account of the prevailing epidemic in August and September, and that twenty-five per cent. more were absent, while the rest of the Rebel army was as badly demoralized by their victory as we were by our rout.

I do not attempt to criticise General McClellan in mentioning these facts. I refer simply to my own personal observations on this point, as testified to before the Committee of Congress, after I had gotten home again. I beg to refer the reader to volume 3, page 380 of the printed Government Record for a part of my sworn testimony referring to these dates.

After a long day's hunt for news, visiting about every place in the city, like a reporter, where I thought I could learn anything--among the rest, Libby Prison guard--I returned to the hotel in the evening.

CHAPTER XVIII.

A NARROW ESCAPE--RECOGNIZED BY TEXAS FRIENDS AT A RICHMOND THEATRE--PERSONNEL OF THE MARYLAND BATTERY--REFUGEES FROM IRELAND--CAMP LEE, NEAR RICHMOND--OUR CAPTAIN--LIEUTENANT CLAIBORNE, OF MISSISSIPPI--OUR SECTION-DRILLS--HORSES FOR OUR USE IN TOWN AND ADJOINING COUNTY--VISITS OF LADIES--CAPITOLA--POPULARITY OF REFUGEES--THE ENTERTAINMENT FOR MARYLANDERS--TABLEAU--JEFF DAVIS STRIKES THE CHAINS FROM THE ENSLAVED MARYLAND BEAUTY.

Richmond hotels during the war were very like those in Washington City during the same period. Every evening the offices, billiard rooms, and even the bar-rooms, would be filled with that class of a city's population that usually congregate in these places. As the crowded hotel lobbies in Washington City nowadays are just the places the newspaper men seek to obtain news for their papers, so it was in Richmond as well as Washington during the war.

Everybody agreed on one point--that something was up, but just what it was nobody seemed able to tell, and I was unable to find out. But I had a night's adventure, which served to dispel any scruples I had entertained about the propriety of entering the Rebel Army.

I met at the hotel office my companion, the Colonel, who, upon seeing me, rushed over the office floor to say:

"Why, where the devil have you been? We have been hunting you every place."

I explained that I had been poking about the city all day, and was so tired that I was going straight to bed.

"No you ain't; we are going to initiate you to-night. We got our orders to-day. Elkton has his commission, and has authority to enlist his men--you know we have nearly all we need for our section. I am to be Sergeant in charge of the piece and you are to be Corporal."

Then, with a slap on the shoulder, he hauled me to one side, and whispered: "We have got it all fixed for our big bounty, and we want your papers right away."

I was cornered. I must go along or get out of town. There could be no possible excuse for further putting off this step.

I asked only the one question--"Where do we go?"

"Why, into Maryland, of course!"