Belle Boyd, In Camp and Prison, Vol. II - Chapters VI-IX



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CHAPTER VI.
Bound North - We are taken in tow - Our first Evening at Sea - We arrive 
at Fortress Monroe - Commodore Guerte Gansevoorte comes on board in James 
River - We are paroled by him - His Indignation against Mr. Hardinge for 
flying the English Ensign - The Commodore's conduct whilst on board - 
Arrival at New York - We go on Shore - I visit Niblos' Theatre - Return 
aboard and departure for Boston - Love triumphant!

   BOATS were continually passing to and fro between the "Prize," as she 
was designated, and the Connecticut, with orders and counter-orders, until 
the proximity of the 

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vessels grew wearisome. I was relieved to hear that we were about to 
start, and my pleasure did not diminish when, at 8 p.m., the command was 
given to get under steam and proceed northward, keeping just astern of the 
Connecticut, which would accompany us. Heart-sick at the turn that the 
tide of fortune had taken, I retired to my couch and endeavoured to sleep. 
But prison walls could not be banished from my imagination, and the 
attempt was vain.

   The next morning, at daylight, I was aroused by loud hailing from the 
Yankee cruiser as she passed close to us, ordering that we should "heave 
to" whilst she sent a boat on board. We presently learned that our 
destination was to be Fortress Monroe, and that we were to be towed 
thither behind the Connecticut. Hawsers were passed to us by means of 
boats, and, 

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when these tow-lines had been well secured, both vessels steamed ahead.

   It was the second evening after our surrender that Captain "Henry," Mr. 
Hardinge, and myself were seated together close by the wheel. The moon 
shone beautifully clear, lighting up everything with a brightness truly 
magnificent; the ocean, just agitated by a slight breeze that swept over 
its surface, looked like one vast bed of sparkling diamonds, and the 
rippling of the little waves, as they struck the vessel's side, seemed but 
the soft accompaniment to the vocal music with which Captain "Henry" had 
been regaling us.

"Here we sit, and let the sounds of music 
 Creep in our ears: soft stillness, and the night, 
 Become the touches of sweet harmony." 

   Presently Captain "Henry" went forward 

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on the bridge and conversed with Mr. Hall, the officer on watch. We two 
were left to ourselves; and Mr. Hardinge quoted some beautiful passages 
from Byron and Shakespeare. Then, in a decidedly Claude Melnotte style, he 
endeavoured to paint the "home to which, if love could but fulfil its 
prayers, this heart would lead thee!" And from poetry he passed on to 
plead an oft-told tale.....

   Situated as I was, and having known him for so short a time, a very 
practical thought flitted through my brain. If he felt all that he 
professed to feel for me, he might in future be useful to us; so, when he 
asked me "to be his wife," I told him that "his question involved serious 
consequences" and that "he must not expect an answer until I should arrive 
at Boston."

   During our voyage Mr. Hardinge was so 

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kind and courteous that Captain "Henry" took a great fancy to him, and 
swore eternal friendship to one of whom he afterwards spoke as "the most 
thorough gentleman from Yankee-land that he had ever met with."

   The morning which succeeded the romantic episode slightly sketched 
above beheld the Connecticut and Greyhound lying to off the Capes. A fog 
detained us in uncertainty as to our whereabouts for some time; and, when 
it lifted, we steamed up Hampton Roads.

   I sat on the little deck aft, watching with interest all that I saw and 
listened alternately to the captain and Mr. Hardinge as they conversed on 
various topics. From the latter I ascertained that "Beast Butler" was in 
command at Fortress Monroe, and from him I could expect but little 
courtesy.

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   As we neared our anchorage, I made out distinctly the grim outline of 
the fortress, rising in its majesty and strength. I compared myself to the 
fly nearing the cunning old spider, who was eagerly watching for the 
moment when it should become entangled in his intricate web.

   My capture had been telegraphed to those in authority. The Connecticut 
had cast off from us about half-way up the river, and had gone onward to 
the mouth of the James, where Admiral Lee then was; but the Greyhound, 
when opposite the pier of the Baltimore steamers, came to an anchor. Mr. 
Hardinge went on board the flag-ship Minnesota to report. He was absent 
about two hours, and when he returned we got under way, proceeding up 
stream to join the Connecticut. Mr. Hardinge could tell me nothing of my 
probable destination, 

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and I suspected that I was to be incarcerated in Fortress Monroe - there 
to remain I knew not how long, perhaps for ever!

   After about three-quarters of an hour we again anchored, this time 
close by the ironclad Roanoke, Commodore Guerte Gansevoorte, who was 
acting in the place of Admiral Lee.

   The Admiral was then up the James River, ostensibly for the purpose of 
fighting the "rebels." But, much to the disgust of his officers and of the 
Federal naval department (if we may believe the journals of the day), he 
merely re-enacted the farce of sinking vessels and driving in spikes 
across the river from bank to bank, to prevent the "cowardly rebels" from 
doing what he dared not - giving battle.

   Just after we brought up it blew a perfect 

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hurricane, followed by a drenching rain, which lasted for some time. Such 
weather was, in itself, sufficiently dreary and discouraging; nor did the 
sensation that we were dragging toward a lee-shore of uninviting 
appearance greatly comfort me. I felt, indeed, some pleasure when I 
thought that the Federals would, perhaps, lose their prize - a feeling 
which Captain "Henry" fully shared. In this cheerful desire we were 
disappointed; for, as the captain afterwards remarked, "the vessel was 
admirably handled by Mr. Hardinge."

   Amid whistling wind and pouring rain an English ensign had been flying 
from the stern, and the Federal flag, which had been hoisted when coming 
up the bay, was conspicuous at the fore. This seems to have excited the 
ire of the Commodore, who, when the storm had passed, boarded 

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us, with solemn displeasure written upon his face.

   I am positive that I should have had a better opinion of the man had he 
remained in his own vessel; for I now saw him far from sober. One of the 
officers remarked that "it was after four o'clock," by way of an apology 
to the "youngling," as he was pleased to term Mr. Hardinge.

   Commodore Guerte Gansevoorte was not over-polite, and, upon reaching 
the deck, swore roundly and lustily, d-ing right and left, and was 
evidently -

"As wild a mannered man 
 As ever scuttled ship or cut a throat." 

   But then, as it was a wet day, he had evidently been taking something 
hot within to guard him from the cold.

   When the Commodore approached my 

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cabin door, I heard Mr. Hardinge say, "Sir, a lady is dressing there. Will 
you be kind enough to wait? She is my passenger, and I am responsible for 
her." I had finished, however; and the coloured servant, opening the door, 
said to Mr. Hardinge, "De lady am ready, massa." On this the Commodore 
remarked, "Ugh! got to that has it?"

   His entrée into the cabin was truly imposing; for, stumbling over piled-
up cotton, he staggered, then slipped, and made his descent and bow at the 
same moment. His aide, Mr. -- (executive officer, I believe), looked 
mortified, and seemed somewhat ashamed whilst following in the great man's 
rear with less of the former's peculiar dignity.

   "So," said the Commodore, "this is Miss Belle Boyd, is it?" Just then 
Captain 

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"Henry" came in, and, turning round, he exclaimed, "What! by --! George, 
old fel-;" then, remembering his official position, stopped suddenly in 
the midst of the exclamation. I do not remember much of the conversation 
which ensued, but noticed that the executive officer was sober and 
apparently disgusted with the conduct of his superior.

   The Commodore at first would not be seated, but did so after a few 
moments' further conversation. Champagne and glasses were brought in; and 
he soon became exceedingly communicative, and, with an oath, swore that 
Captain "Henry" should have a parole extending as far as Boston. Asking 
for pen, ink, and paper, which I immediately procured, he bade the 
executive officer write the required parole, and signed it with his own 
hand. Mr 

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Hardinge asked for the document, or, at least, a copy of the same; but he 
would not comply, declaring that "his orders were sufficient."

   As he rose to depart, he turned to me and said, in answer to a request 
of mine, "You, miss, when you arrive at New York, can go on shore, 
provided Mr. Hardinge accompanies you. And," he added, attempting some 
compliments, "I will not enforce a written parole with you, but will take 
a verbal promise. Don't be at all alarmed - you shan't go to prison." The 
Commodore then left us. His descent into the boat was executed in the same 
dignified and gentlemanly manner as had been his entrée into my presence; 
and I felt very thankful when Mr. Hall informed me that the great man had 
gone.

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   Half an hour may have passed, when a boat came from the Roanoke to 
inform Mr. Hardinge that the Commodore had ordered that the Greyhound 
should be brought under the lee of the iron-clad. My heart sank, for it 
seemed that, after all, he had been playing with us; still more so when, 
as we rounded to under the Roanoke's stern, I heard the Commodore 
threatening through his trumpet to blow us out of the water. In his 
condition he might have done anything; so our anxiety may well be imagined.

   Reverting for a moment to the English ensign before mentioned as flying 
aboard the Greyhound, I may describe how the Commodore, when he saw it, 
shouted furiously, "Haul down that -- rag!" Mr. Hardinge ventured to 
suggest that this was a violation of the law regarding neutral 

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vessels captured in time of war. To which the Commodore made answer by 
saying, "I don't want any -- sea-lawyer's arguments!" and he afterwards 
sent a written order to Mr. Hardinge, forbidding him to fly the English 
flag.

   As we lay beside the Roanoke, vague threats were made and contradictory 
orders given. Now we were told to be "off at once," then "not to think of 
moving at present;" until Mr. Hardinge grew restless at such constant 
supervision, and, taking advantage of a command to quit the station, 
steamed away, without waiting for anything more. Right glad were we when 
the shades of night hid from our view the monster iron-clad, and yet, 
thankful to Captain Almy, of the Connecticut, who, not being drunk, 
stopped us somewhat farther down, 

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delaying our departure for the very sensible reason that a gale of wind 
was blowing.

   Early the next day a steam-tug from the fortress went alongside of the 
Connecticut, and the officers, passengers, and men of the Minnie and 
Greyhound were transferred to her, with the exception of Mr. Pollard, who 
was sent aboard of us to proceed to Boston. When the tug steamed by, 
handkerchiefs and caps were waved; and I was afterwards informed that they 
would have cheered me had they been permitted to do so. Fresh meat, 
vegetables, and ice (the latter of which we esteemed a luxury, as the 
weather was very warm) had been procured on shore for our consumption.

   At length we proceeded to sea, bound for Boston, Massachusetts, via New 
York, 

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where it was intended that we should touch for coal. I will pass over this 
portion of the voyage, merely remarking that it was as pleasant as could 
be expected under the circumstances, and that the officers did all in 
their power to make things comfortable for us.

   As we neared New York thick fog completely enshrouded the coast, but 
our speed was not slackened. We pressed forward, often passing vessels so 
near as hardly to give them breathing room. Part of one night we lay off 
Barnegat; for the fog had become so thick that the pilot did not judge it 
safe for us to proceed. But when morning broke a brisk wind sprang up, 
enabling us to see the outline of Sandy Hook. As we passed on up the 
harbour the motion became less disagreeable to me, and, a comfortable seat 
having been placed 

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on the deck-house, I enjoyed a panorama of sea and shore scarce equalled 
in beauty by the approach to any other city in the world.

   Off Quarantine we were boarded by the health officer, who, after asking 
several questions, permitted us to go on our way; and we came to an anchor 
off Navy Yard. Mr. Hardinge went on shore to report his arrival, while Mr. 
Hall proceeded to bring the vessel alongside the coal-hulk. When Mr. 
Hardinge returned in the afternoon the dock was filled with gazers, who, 
excited by that morbid curiosity exhibited by the world in general, had 
come to witness, as they supposed, my debarkation. In this they were 
somewhat disappointed, for everything had been arranged so nicely that not 
one of the many there assembled knew when I went on shore. A Navy 

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Yard tug dropped alongside the Greyhound, and, with the assistance of 
Captain H., I was soon snugly settled in the tug's wheel-house.

   Captain "Henry" and Mr. Hardinge accompanied me. We crossed to the New 
York side of the river, and landed at the foot of Canal Street. Procuring 
a carriage, we drove to a friend's house, where I took from off my person 
the money which I had concealed about me, and the weight of which at times 
had almost made me faint. This money belonged to myself and Captain
"Henry, " and was not, as Yankee papers averred, part of the ship's money
we had thrown overboard previous to our capture. Captain "Henry" placed
our money in the bank, where it was safe from further molestation.

   We visited Niblo's Theatre to witness 

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the performance of "Bel Demonio." What a contrast did the gay, wealthy 
city of New York afford at this period to my own sorrow-stricken land! 
Here there was no sign of want or poverty. No woe-begone faces could I see 
in that assemblage: all was life and animation. Though war raged within a 
short distance, its horrors had little influence on the butterflies of the 
empire city; whilst, in my own dear native country, all was sad and 
heartrending. We were sacrificing lives upon the altar of Liberty; while 
the North sacrificed hers upon the altar of Mammon.

   Next morning Mr. Hardinge called for me, and, after having finished my 
shopping, we returned to the Greyhound, which now lay in mid-stream. 
Captain "Henry" had gone on board before us, as also had Mr. Pollard. I 
forgot to mention that this 

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gentleman had been paroled by Mr. Hardinge for the night.

   For the rest of the time, above four hours, that we remained at New 
York we were besieged by visitors - old acquaintances, who were allowed to 
see me. Amongst them were several naval and military officers. About 4 
p.m. the pilot came on board, and, bidding adieu to the capital of
"Shoddy," away we steamed for Boston.

   The weather was lovely, the water smooth as glass, and the sky 
cloudless as that of Italy. On each side of us, along the shores of the 
Sound, were beautiful residences, whose owners, as they strolled over 
their lawns, or sat smoking on terrace or balcony, appeared to think 
little, and care less, about the war. We glided past many craft, which lay 
with white sails that 

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flapped against their masts. I was melancholy; I hardly knew why. The face 
of nature wore its very sweetest smile; everything was propitious; yet I 
was not pleased, and sought the cabin.

   Mr. Hardinge, in a few moments, followed me, and then he repeated a 
declaration on which I need not expatiate, as it concerned ourselves more 
than anyone else. So generous and noble was he in everything that I could 
not but acknowledge that my heart was his. I firmly believe that God 
intended us to meet and love; and, to make the story short, I told him 
that "I would be his wife." Although our politics differed, "women," 
thought I, "can sometimes work wonders; and may not he, who is of Northern 
birth, come by degrees to love, for my sake, the ill-used South?"

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   Then Captain "Henry" came into the cabin; and, when we told him all, he 
joined our hands together, saying -

   "Hardinge, you are a good fellow, and I love you, boy! Miss Belle 
deserves a good husband; and I know no one more worthy of her than 
yourself. May you both be happy!"



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CHAPTER VII.
Arrival in Boston - Our plan for recapturing Greyhound frustrated - 
Captain "Henry's" Escape - How it was managed - Marshal Keyes comes on 
Board - The Search for the Captain - A false Report of his Arrest - I 
communicate with him - He leaves for New York - I bid adieu to the 
Greyhound - My Quarters on Shore - I am paroled for the City - Newspaper 
Rumours - Mr. Hardinge proceeds to Washington in my behalf - My Mother 
telegraphs to the Marshal - She is not permitted to see me - Politeness of 
the British Consul - I write a Letter to the Secretary of the Navy - Am 
pronounced insane - I am liberated - Mr. Hardinge and his Officers are 
placed under Arrest - Mr. Pollard is sent to Fort Warren - I leave for 
Canada.

   WHEN we neared Boston I saw the grim 

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walls of Fort Warren; and a shudder passed over me as I inwardly wondered 
if that would be my home. All my bright dreams of "merrie England," of 
"bonnie Scotland," and of a tour on the Continent, were, for the time, 
banished. The future lowered dark and uncertain. Had not some good spirit 
whispered hope, I should scarcely have borne up against these gloomy 
impressions. But I was still "Mrs. Lewis," and might yet escape: - 

"For, lo! the heavier Grief weighed down, 
 The higher Hope was raised." 

   When we were first captured it had been agreed that, on our voyage 
north, an attempt should be made to retake the Greyhound.

   The project, however, had been abandoned, not from any lack of zeal, 
but 

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from force of circumstances; for Captain Almy had refused to put on board 
of us our chief engineer and first officer, without whom the attempt could 
not possibly succeed.

   Another plan, quietly prepared by us previously, and which had 
reference to the escape of Captain "Henry," had better luck. Whilst we 
were coming to an anchor off the Boston Navy Yard, and Mr. Hardinge was 
forward, giving orders to the men, Captain "Henry," Mr. Pollard, and 
myself were aft, seated in the cabin. I asked the two Yankee pilots if 
they would join us and partake of a glass of wine. To this they of course 
assented, and drank freely; for doubtless such wine but seldom passed 
their lips. I then nodded to Captain "Henry," who, carelessly putting on 
his hat, and taking his umbrella in his hand, walked 

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up on deck and went aft, where he stood for some moments. Everything 
seemed to favour us, for Mr. Hardinge had called a harbour-boat alongside, 
that he might go ashore to report his arrival.

   Before starting, Mr. Hardinge came to me and asked "where his papers 
were;" when I replied that I thought they must be "in the lower cabin, 
where he had been dressing himself." He immediately went down to fetch 
them; and this was the golden opportunity for which we had waited. In less 
time than it takes me to write it, Captain "Henry" stepped into the boat, 
which dropped slowly astern with the tide; and, when Mr. Hardinge 
reappeared, the captain was safe on land.

   The whole scene was amusing in the extreme to those who understood it, 
so well 

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had it been managed. When Mr. Hardinge found his boat gone, he came to the 
conclusion that the waterman had grown tired of waiting and had pulled 
off; so, calling another, he stepped into it and proceeded to report his 
prize.

   In about three hours he returned, bringing with him the United States 
Marshal, Keyes, and several other gentlemen of position and influence in 
Boston, whom he introduced to me.

   The Marshal then asked for Captain "Henry."

   "I think he is on deck," I replied.

   Mr. Hardinge went to find him, leaving the other gentlemen to converse 
with Mr. Pollard and myself. From me, however, they did not learn much, 
for I sustained the supposititious character of "Mrs. Lewis" with becoming 
gravity; and 

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it was not until several days after that they became quite sure that I was 
none other than the celebrated "Belle Boyd."

   In a few moments Marshal Keyes, followed by Mr. Hardinge, entered the 
cabin, the Marshal exclaiming, "Captain 'Henry' has escaped!"

   "What!" said I; "it is impossible! only a few moments ago he was here!" 
and I looked very serious, though all the while I was laughing in my 
sleeve, saying to myself, "Again I have got the better of the Yankees!" 
The vessel was thoroughly searched - nay, I believe that it was fumigated, 
or "smoked," to get the captain out; for Marshal Keyes was "positive" that 
he was on board - so he informed me on his way to the hotel.

   Captain "Henry's" escape caused much sensation. Detectives, great and 
small, 

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were thrown into a flutter of excitement, and the Boston police, whom 
Marshal Keyes affirmed to be the "best in the world," were all astir that 
the fugitive might be lodged in Fort Warren. These myrmidons of Northern 
power were, certainly, not favoured with a very accurate description of 
Captain "Henry." Some declared that he wore a black hat, others that lie 
had a white covering to his head; some that his nose was aquiline, others 
that it was decidedly retroussé. Such contradictions bewildered the 
police, whose efforts resulted in a wild-goose chase.

   Late on the evening of the escape Marshal Keyes was jubilant over a 
supposed capture at Portland, Maine, whither he had telegraphed to have 
any suspicious character arrested. The Portland captive proved to be not 
the gentleman of whom 

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they were in quest, but a harmless English tourist, who was, no doubt, 
much aggrieved at his unlawful detention.

   When the Marshal informed me of the captain's arrest at Portland, I 
knew that there must be some mistake, and could hardly restrain my 
laughter; for all this time Captain "Henry" was lying perdue in Boston, 
under an assumed name. I was well aware of the captain's residence, and 
through the medium of a friend received several communications from him. 
In my replies I assured him that he was already as good as free. For two 
days he stayed quietly at the hotel, and then I heard that he had set off 
for Canada, viâ New York.

   Detectives had been sent all over the country to intercept him; but it 
was one of the best managed escapes from the toils of 

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the "'cute" Yankees that ever took place. Captain "Henry" actually 
remained for some time at one of the largest hotels in Broadway, where he 
saw many of his old friends, who, fortunately, did not recognise him.

   Many and various were the reports of this affair that found 
circulation; but, singularly enough, it was the United States officers on 
board the Greyhound, and not "Mrs. Lewis," who had to bear the brunt of 
suspicion, though I was really the one to blame. I was delighted at being 
a non-suspect, by way of a change, and could thoroughly appreciate the 
chagrin of Marshal Keyes. He had prophesied that this was a case of 
capture with which Lord Lyons, at Washington, would not dare to interfere, 
as Captain "Henry" - to use the Marshal's own words - "was an officer of 
the 

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Confederate navy, and therefore not an Englishman." To this view of 
international law I politely assented, thinking that, if Captain "Henry" 
could only reach a place of safety, it would matter very little how the 
Marshal classified him.

   The Greyhound was hauled alongside a wharf, and an immense concourse of 
people assembled to witness my coming ashore; for it had been telegraphed 
from New York, and then again from the station in Boston Bay, that "Belle 
Boyd" was aboard the prize. Marshal Keyes was most courteous, and stated 
that he had procured a suite of rooms for me at the Tremont House, where I 
was to remain until my fate was definitely settled. This, he added, would 
be in a very few days; when he should either have the "supreme pleasure" 
of taking me to Canada, or the "unpleasant task " of delivering me 

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over to the tender mercies of the commandant of Fort Warren.

   The public journals were indefatigable in noticing all my movements. 
The Sunday-morning papers informed their readers that "Miss Belle Boyd 
would attend Divine service at the Old -- Church during the forenoon." The 
week-day news-sheets gave notice that "Miss Belle Boyd, in company with 
her gallant captor, whose sympathies, no doubt, were with the South, were 
seen out driving the day before;" and, as a climax, the bulletin boards 
announced that "Belle Boyd had been sent to the Fitchburg Gaol!" Such were 
a few of the many canards that flew abroad during my stay in the "modern 
Athens."

   I had been there about ten days, when Mr. Hardinge, fearing that The 
"Fitchburg 

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Gaol" story might be but the shadow of a coming event, proceeded to 
Washington, to procure, if possible, my release. Having letters of 
introduction to many of the leading and influential men there, he induced 
them to use their power in my behalf.

   Although I was but thirty-six hours' railway-journey from my mother, 
who had telegraphed to the Marshal to allow her to come and see me, she 
was not permitted to do so; and none of her letters reached me, they being 
probably intercepted. But, if letters of affection were thus stopped, 
there were, happily, other channels than the postal department by which 
friendly comfort could arrive. Many Boston ladies and gentlemen visited 
me, despite the Government spies who hovered about my quarters.

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   After being kept in suspense for three weeks, I forwarded, through 
Marshal Keyes, a letter to Gideon Welles, Secretary of the Navy at 
Washington, telling him that "I really was Belle Boyd, and wished to go to 
Canada that I might communicate with my mother."

   The Marshal received a telegram in answer, saying that "Miss Boyd and 
her servants should be escorted beyond the lines into Canada, and that, if 
I was again caught in the United States, or by the United States 
authorities, I should be shot." This was on a Sunday evening; and the 
Marshal advised me to depart with all convenient speed, as I had only 
twenty-four hours' grace. I promised to start on Monday, at 5 p.m. It was 
impossible to go sooner, no trains running through to Montreal on Sunday.

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   The "Washington Republican" got possession of my letter to Gideon 
Welles, and published it in extenso, with the remark that I was "insane," 
and had been, on that account, released by the Government. For this 
verdict of lunacy I thank them, if it contributed in any degree to 
mitigate my sentence. There certainly existed sufficient method in my 
madness to make me appreciate the advantage of having the promised 
shooting deferred until they caught me again; and I felt much obliged to 
members of Congress and others who used their influence in my behalf.

   Mr. Hardinge was sent for early on Monday morning by Admiral Stringham, 
but he assured me that he would soon return. The day passed by, however, 
without any sign of him, and I began 

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to wonder what had happened, when I received the following letter, in his 
handwriting: -

   "MY DEAR MISS BELLE,

   "It is all up with me. Mr. Hall, the engineers, and myself are 
prisoners, charged with complicity in the escape of Captain H-. The 
Admiral says that it looks bad for us; so I have adopted a very good 
motto, viz., 'Face the music!' and, come what may, the officers under me 
shall be cleared. I have asked permission of the Admiral to come and bid 
you goodbye. I hope that his answer will be in the affirmative."

   This was written on board the receiving ship Ohio. Its receipt made me 
feel very unhappy, for I feared that circumstantial evidence was against 
Mr. Hardinge, and that, ere long, he would, although perfectly innocent, 
share with poor Mr. Pollard a casemate in Fort Warren. But suddenly 

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the object of my thoughts made his appearance. He informed me that the 
Admiral had allowed him and his officers to be paroled until sundown, and 
that he had availed himself of this privilege to come instantly to me.

   Mr. Pollard, my fellow-passenger from Wilmington, against whom the 
Yankee journals were exceedingly vituperative, had on the Sunday morning 
been conveyed to Fort Warren, and there immured for the crime of being 
distasteful to those in authority. Suffice it to say of Mr. Pollard's 
subsequent adventures that he was paroled to the city of Brooklyn, owing 
to his very bad health; since which I have not heard of him.

   The time for my departure from Boston came at last. The Tremont Hotel 
was left, and the railway dépôt was reached. Marshal 

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Keyes endeavoured to make himself agreeable, and was very busy in getting 
my baggage checked and my ticket taken before the train moved away. The 
Marshal, I may add, was my courteous companion to the boundary-line 
between Canada and the United States. With a sad heart I had bidden good-
bye to Mr. Hardinge, although I trusted that he would soon rejoin me; and 
I enjoyed the delightful prospect of breathing free Canadian air.

   Yes, I should be free! Free from prison bars and irksome confinement; 
but, alas! an exile! Each step towards freedom carried me farther and 
farther from my native hold; whilst, did I turn back, a heavy penalty 
awaited me. My father dead, and my dear mother far away! Truly I was alone 
in the wide, wide 

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world! And I had left one generous heart behind that I knew would miss me 
sorely.



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CHAPTER VIII.
Arrival at Montreal - Niagara - A System of Espionage still around me - I 
depart for Europe - Passage across the Atlantic - Arrival in London - I 
meet Mr. Hardinge once more - Our Marriage - Comments of the Press.

   UPON arriving at Montreal, I proceeded to the "St. Lawrence Hall." 
Captain "Henry" and his wife had proposed that I should join them at 
Niagara; but, not having heard from them for some time, I waited till I 
could ascertain their exact whereabouts. In Montreal I met many 

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Southern families, refugees, and many Confederate sympathizers. The 
British provinces were at this time a haven of rest for American exiles - 
much as England has always been to the victims of persecution on the 
European continent. I learnt that my friends at Niagara were expecting me, 
and accordingly set off to join them, the Guards serenading me just before 
my departure.

   Niagara, with its sublime scenery, I will not attempt to describe. We 
were stopping at the Clifton House, and from my windows I could plainly 
see the Yankee side of the Falls. There, lower down, was the Suspension 
Bridge, offering almost irresistible temptation to cross from Canada to 
the States. We heard, on good authority, that above a hundred thousand 
dollars was being expended on the retaking 

Page 104

of Captain "Henry" and myself. Spies were stationed on the bridge to watch 
and, if possible, to entrap us, should we by chance be foolish enough to 
venture within their power.

   About a week after our arrival at Niagara we noticed, at the table 
d'hôte, two very foppishly-dressed men, with thin, waxed mustaches à la 
Napoléon, and who apparently took great seeming interest in the movements 
of our entire party. We watched them closely, and were very soon convinced 
beyond doubt that they were Yankee detectives. Shortly after this 
discovery we left for Quebec. It was in the morning, about eight o'clock, 
that we quitted Niagara and proceeded by rail to Toronto, where we arrived 
about noon. Imagine our surprise at finding the fair imitation dandies, 
whom we had left 

Page 105

quietly at the Clifton House, watching for us at the Toronto terminus. It 
transpired that they had seen us going, and had quietly entered another 
car in the same train.

   The Canadian journals commented severely upon these fellows, and the 
system of espionage practiced on us whilst we remained in the provinces.

   The brace of detectives accompanied us in the steamer that left Toronto 
a few hours afterwards, and which plies regularly during the summer months 
between that place and Montreal. We noticed that they hovered round, 
eyeing us narrowly; and we determined to ascertain whether it was really 
our party that they were watching. When, therefore, we arrived at our 
destination, Captain "Henry" repaired to the Donegana 

Page 106

Hotel, whilst I went to the St. Lawrence Hall. In a few hours I learned 
that one of these fellows had engaged a room at the same hotel where I was 
stopping; and, when Captain "Henry" called, he told me that the other 
detective had taken up his abode at the Donegana!

   When we resumed our journey to Quebec the spies still dogged us. 
Captain "Henry" embarked at once for Halifax. I remained some time in 
Quebec, previous to sailing for Europe; and when, at length, I quitted the 
American shores, one of the spies endeavoured to secure a passage on board 
the same vessel! The Canadians, however, detesting his odious calling, 
insisted that he should be denied this opportunity.

   My trip across the Atlantic was, on the whole, favoured by calm weather 
and a 

Page 107

smooth sea; so that I did not suffer much from my enemy the mal de mer. 
Off the banks of Newfoundland we were, to make use of a nautical 
expression, "tied up" for more than a week by the fogs, amid fields and 
bergs of ice. The latter I had never before seen; and I gazed upon their 
majestic grandeur with feelings of awe and amazement. So near, at times, 
did we pass them, that it is no wonder that I felt somewhat nervous; for, 
had we struck, it would have been instantaneous death to us all. While 
crossing the banks we encountered a fearful storm, and for one entire 
night the steamer rolled and plunged with the force of the waves like some 
living creature.

"It was midnight on the ocean, 
 And a storm was on the deep!" 

Page 108

   But the storm in our case, though violent, did not last long. More 
moderate weather soon came, and the passengers felt greatly relieved.

   When, after entering English waters and passing up channel, and my feet 
touched the ground once more, I. thanked God for our safety. I remember 
for a long time after, in imagination, I could hear the whir-r-r, whir-r-r 
of the screw, the creaking of blocks, the flapping of sails, the hoarse, 
uncouth cries of the sailors, and the clear, distinct voices of the 
captain and his officers.

   Arrived in Liverpool, I remained there for some days at the Washington 
Hotel, and then proceeded to London. I soon ascertained the address of Mr. 
Hotze, the Confederate commercial agent, to whom I had had letters of 
introduction from the 

Page 109

Secretary of State. I reported to the Confederate States Commissioner that 
the despatches intrusted to me at Wilmington had been destroyed when the 
Greyhound was overhauled, that they might not fall into our enemy's hands.

   This report terminated Belle Boyd's connection with the Southern 
Government for the time being.

"So from the scene where death and anguish reign, 
 And vice and folly drench with blood the plain, 
 ....I turn!" 

   Mr. Hotze gave me a letter that had been left with him until I should 
reach London. Upon opening it; I found that it was from Mr. Hardinge, 
informing me that he had come to England, but, not being able to learn my 
whereabouts, had proceeded to Paris, in the faint hope of finding me 

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there. I was deeply touched at this new proof of his honest attachment, 
and immediately telegraphed a message to him, stating where he would find 
me in London. Gentle reader, you can, perhaps, imagine for yourself how 
joyful was our meeting, and in what manner a courtship which had in it 
much of romance was at length happily terminated.

   Our marriage took place on August 25th, 1864, and journalists were 
pleased to treat the world to some portions of the romance in which we had 
taken part. The English press was friendly in its tone, but certain Yankee 
editors became marvellously indignant at the news, and even now they are 
subject to periodical returns of indignation.

Page 111

(Le Moniteur Universel de Paris.)
"UN MARIAGE A LONDRES.
   "On écrit de Londres: Un mariage singulièrement romantique vient 
d'avoir lieu anjourd'hui, à onze heures, à l'église Saint-James. La 
fiancée était la célèbre Belle Boyd, l'héroïne de tant d'exploits 
aventureux pendant la guerre civile d'Amérique et surtout au moment des 
brillantes campagnes du général Stonewall Jackson, dans la vallée de 
Shenandoah.
   "Mlle Boyd est à peine âgée de vingt ans, d'un caractère très-doux, 
douée de grands avantages personnels, et liée par la parenté avec quelques-
unes des plus influentes families du Sud. Il paraît que les scènes de la 
guerre, dont elle était témoin, depuis ces dernières années, avaient 
développé en elle une énergie et un courage qui se rencontrent rarement 
chez une femme.

   "Les courses à cheval, au milieu de la nuit, à travers marais et 
forêts, jusque dans les lignes de l'ennemi, d'où elle rapportait aux 
généraux du Sud des renseignements d'une importance immense, forment le 
thème de nombreux récits autour des feux de bivouac dans toute l'armée 
confédérée.

   "Elle était tombée entre les mains des fédéraux, mais un jeune officier 
lui donna les moyens de s'échapper 

Page 112

et la suivit dans sa fuite. C'est lui qui, après l'avoir accompagnée en 
Angleterre, vient de lui donner sonnom.

   "Dans quelques jours, le jeune époux doit repartir pour les Etats 
confédérés, où il va s'enrôler comme simple soldat. Ceci a été une des 
conditions du mariage exigées par la fiancée comme preuve du dévouement de 
son époux à une cause qu'il combattait dernièrement encore l'épée à la 
main.

   "Le mariage a été célébré sans aucune pompe, mais ensuite un élégant 
déjeuner préparé à l'hôtel de Brunswick, rue Jermyn, a réuni les jeunes 
mariés et tous les confédérés de marque et de distinction actuellement à 
Londres.

   "Dans l'après-midi, les deux époux sont partis pour Liverpool, oùle 
futur soldat du Sud va s'embarquer pour les Etats confédérés. On assure 
que les autorités fédérales ont mis sa tête à prix."

(Morning Post.)
   "St. James's Church, Piccadilly, was yesterday the scene of a romantic 
episode in the fratricidal war now raging on the American continent; as, 
at the altar of that sacred edifice, Miss Belle Boyd, whose name and fame 
are deservedly cherished in the Southern States, pledged her troth to Mr. 
Sam Wylde Hardinge, 

Page 113

formerly an officer in the Federal naval service. The marriage attracted 
to the church a considerable number of English and American sympathizers 
in the cause of the South, anxious to see the lady whose heroism has made 
her name so famous, and to witness the result of her last captivity, the 
making captive of the Federal officer under whose guard she was again 
being conveyed to prison. Miss Boyd, it will be remembered, is the 
Virginian lady who, during the terrible scenes enacted in the Valley of 
the Shenandoah, rendered such essential service to General Stonewall 
Jackson, by procuring for him information of great value as regards the 
position and condition of the Northern forces, and who signalized her 
devotion to the cause of her country by so many other services. Capture 
and imprisonment did not damp her adventurous and patriotic ardour, as she 
was twice immured, once for seven months, and once for ten months. She was 
again seized, and, while on board a Federal vessel, on her way to the 
North, made the acquaintance of Lieutenant Hardinge, with whom, having 
crossed the Atlantic, she has entered into the bonds of matrimony. Mr. 
Hardinge needs no excuse for the step he has taken in renouncing his 
allegiance to the Federal cause and espousing the fair 'rebel,' whom he 
has now sworn to love, honour, and cherish. Though, in obedience to the 
wishes of his father, he served for some time in the Federal navy, in 

Page 114

which service he rose to be lieutenant, his Southern sympathies were 
notorious in the North, where it was well known that he had long tendered 
his resignation, which Mr. Secretary Welles refused to accept; and thus he 
was forced to continue in a Service which he would gladly have renounced 
long since. Though more than suspected of Southern sympathies, he kept his 
word when he promised the executive of the Federal navy that the name he 
bore - a name which had descended to him from a long line of ancestors in 
Great Britain and America - should not be disgraced, and proved his 
readiness to perform his duty on many occasions.

   "The bride was attended to the altar by Mrs. Edward Robinson Harvey, 
the bridegroom by Mr. Henry Howard Barber, and the marriage service was 
read by the Rev. Mr. Paull, of St. James's Chapel, in a manner which 
deeply impressed all present with the solemn nature of the contract 
entered into. Amongst the friends of the bride and bridegroom, and of the 
Confederate cause, who attended were the Hon. General Williams, formerly 
United States Minister at Constantinople; the Hon. J. O'Sullivan, formerly 
Minister from Washington at Lisbon; Major Hughes, of the Confederate army; 
Captain Fearn, Confederate army; the Rev. Frederic Kill Harford (who gave 
the bride away); Mr. Keen Richards, of Kentucky; Mr. Henry Hotze, Mr. C. 
Warren Adams, Mrs. Paull, Madame Cerbelle, Mr. Reary, &c.

Page 115

   "At the conclusion of the ceremony the bride and bridegroom and their 
friends proceeded to the Brunswick Hotel, Jermyn Street, where a choice 
and well-arranged breakfast was partaken of, and at a fitting moment, 
towards the conclusion, Mr. Barber, in a most eloquent speech, proposed 
the health of Mr. and Mrs. Hardinge, eulogizing the services the lady had 
performed, and prognosticating that the bridegroom would soon win fame in 
the service on which he is about to enter. The toast, as may be 
anticipated, was received with much delight, and was replied to by both 
bride and bridegroom, who expressed their acknowledgments to the many 
friends they had found in this country. The toast of 'The Queen' was 
afterwards given by Captain Fearn, who assured the English portion of his 
hearers that her Majesty was greatly revered in all parts of the Southern 
States of America - an assertion which was most warmly corroborated by all 
present, who were qualified to speak from experience. 'President Davis and 
General Lee,' and many other toasts, followed in due order, till the 
growing hours warned the bride and bridegroom that it was time to depart 
for Liverpool. Mr. Hardinge purposes in a few days to leave for the South, 
whither, in spite of the blockade, he intends to convey a goodly portion 
of the wedding-cake, for distribution amongst his wife's friends."

Page 116

   The journey referred to above was taken by my husband very shortly 
after, for the simple purpose of communicating with my family in Virginia. 
Its results will be shown in the following chapters, in which he will tell 
his own story.



Page 117

CHAPTER IX.
Lieutenant Hardinge's Journal - Arrival at Home - A Surprise - A silent 
Breakfast - Visit to Martinsburg - A pleasant little Excitement - A Negro 
Welcome - "Miss Belle's Husband" - A Portent - A Sailor's Superstition - 
Capture - Poor Pat in the Toils - A high-bred General - Lieutenant Adams - 
A Yankee Provost-Marshal - The Guard-house - - The Restaurant - A 
Guardsman - Ordered off again - Arrival at Washington.

   LAST November it became necessary for me to quit the tranquil shores of 
England, and make, much to my disgust, a trip across the Atlantic, 
rendered doubly disagreeable 

Page 118

to me by the fact that I was parting for an indefinite period from one 
whom I loved fondly - my wife, and to whom I had been married but two 
short months.(*)

   On the Monday afternoon after my arrival I left Boston and proceeded to 
New York, where I arrived about 11 p.m., and put up at the New York Hotel. 
I did not sleep here, however, but went over to my mother's residence in 
Brooklyn almost immediately.

   Gaining admittance to the house, and being, as you may suppose, 
thoroughly conversant with its internal arrangements, I mounted softly on 
tip-toe to my parents' room and entered. My father, aroused by 

(* These papers were originally intended solely for the perusal of my 
wife; but, upon second thought, they have been somewhat condensed in 
material, and have been added to her adventures as an after-piece.)

Page 119

the noise I made - for floors and doors will invariably creak at such 
times - called out as I opened the door, "Who is that?" "Martin," I 
replied; for I wished to surprise them as much as possible.

   As soon as I had lit the gas I turned upon them and said, "Mother, how 
do you do?" For the moment she was struck dumb with astonishment, but the 
next she was in my arms, pressing me to her heart as only a mother can who 
loves her son devotedly.

   We sat for a long time conversing upon many topics - my wife, my future 
prospects, &c. About three in the morning, however, I left her and retired 
to my brother's room, who was at the time absent in Boston on business. I 
do not know why it was, but I felt like a stranger in a strange land; for 
my heart was with you, over the ocean in merrie England.

Page 120

   All the rest of the night I sat framing a letter to you; and it was 
late in the morning, just as the faint glimmering streaks of dawn were 
flashing up from the east, and the distant hum of the city was becoming 
more and more audible, that I threw myself, tired, weary, and heartsick, 
on the bed, and fell asleep to dream of you.

   Sleep, did I say? Ay, the sleep that the dog enjoys in his kennel. I 
think it was about nine in the morning when my mother awakened me. I 
sprang to my feet, and, hurriedly completing my toilette, descended and 
entered the dining-room. There was very little said - a monosyllabic 
breakfast, one of those dismal feasts where Death seems to reign supreme. 
With me it was soon over; and that same night I was en route for 
Baltimore, bound to 

Page 121

Martinsburg, which I reached, after much delay and detention, after having 
enjoyed the nervous excitement of running off the track only twice, about 
6.30 in the evening.

   Here I was subjected, with the rest of the passengers, to a strict 
examination by the Provost-Marshal of my passes and travelling-bag; but 
finally, after a quarter of an hour's delay, I was allowed to go on.

   After passing several sentries and two barricades, I at length found 
myself at your mother's house. I did not announce my name to any one; but 
one of the girls rushed up to me, and, after gazing intently at me for a 
moment, flew out of the room.

   Whilst I was revolving over in my mind this inexplicable, to me, scene, 
she returned, and, half laughing, half in doubt, said, "You's Miss Belle's 
husband, isn't you?" 

Page 122

I of course assured her that I was. She again disappeared, but returned 
accompanied by the whole sable household, who, crowding round about me, 
welcomed me to my home, inquiring affectionately after you, and evidently 
much disappointed at not finding that you were with me.

   Greatly to my chagrin, your mother and sister were at Kennysville, 
about ten miles distant; but Mrs. G., who could not help shedding tears 
when she knew who I was, welcomed me as a son. All that evening we sat 
conversing together; and when, at last, I retired to sleep, it was in your 
own room; and, as I entered in at the door, I uncovered my head and 
thought of you.

   This was your room; here you had been held a prisoner and had suffered 
the torture of an agonizing doubt as to your fate. Here lay your books 
just as you had 

Page 123

left them. Writings, quotations, everything to remind me of you was here; 
and I do not know how long a time I should have stood gazing about me in 
silence, had it not been for my reverie being disturbed by the little 
negro servant, who broke the silence by saying, "No one's ever sleep in 
dis room since Missy Belle been gone - missus says you're de only person 
as should."

   So, when I retired to bed that night, and "Jim" had been dismissed from 
further attendance upon me, I lay for a long time thinking, looking into 
the fire, that glimmered and glared about the room, picturing you here, 
there, and everywhere about the chamber, and thinking of you sadly, far 
away from me in England - the exile, lonely and sad.

   About midnight I fell asleep, and was only aroused from my slumbers 
late 

Page 124

the next morning by Jim, who was making the fire. When I had finished 
dressing I sat down near the fireplace. I hardly know what persuaded me to 
do so; but, if you will recollect, on the evening that we parted from one 
another you placed upon my finger a small diamond-cluster ring,(*) telling 
me that there was a peculiar charm attached to it - viz., of forewarning 
the wearer when in danger by dropping or being taken off. Without 
thinking, I did the latter.

   Now we sailors are somewhat addicted to superstition; and I must 
confess that I felt a nervous apprehension about myself, which did not 
leave me despite the endeavours that I made to allay my fears. I told Mrs. 
G. of the circumstance 

(* This ring was once the property of an African princess. - B. B. H.)

Page 125

when I met her at breakfast, and she laughed at my credulity; but so 
firmly was I impressed with the belief, that I already began to feel that 
I was doomed - a marked man.

   And I was. At half-past five - having previously procured a pass - I 
left for Baltimore; but at Monocacy station I was - judge of my surprise - 
arrested and kept confined all night under guard as a deserter. As a 
prisoner, I was of course searched; but, finding nothing upon me, the 
officer commanding told me that I might retire for the night.

   "Where?" I asked.

   "Oh! on the floor, by all means," was the response, accompanied with a 
horse-laugh.

   The next day, at my earnest entreaty, I was sent to Point of Rocks, 
where I was treated more like a dog than a human 

Page 126

being; but, fortunately for myself, I was sent on to Harper's Ferry, under 
a guard of Irish emigrant soldiers, who were far kinder to me than their 
officers. During the journey they gave me a long history of their wrongs, 
asserting upon oath that they had been entrapped by the oily tongues of 
Federal agents in Ireland, who had given them gold and promised them a 
farm, and two hundred pounds apiece more in gold upon their arrival in the 
United States, if they would only emigrate for the purpose of tilling the 
land out West. Upon their arrival in New York, however, they were locked 
up as prisoners - not allowed to see any one - and were only, after an 
imprisonment of over three weeks, set free, their liberty having been 
purchased by their becoming Federal soldiers.

   They were also promised eight hundred 

Page 127

dollars bounty and three months furlough, which they had never to this day 
received, although they had applied for it from time to time; for no 
sooner had they taken the oath of allegiance than they were sent to the 
front.

   At the conclusion of this narration, which they swore by the "Holy 
Vargin" was truth and nothing more or less, one of them informed me that 
they had orders to shoot me if I was impudint to them even. "But we won't 
do it, me bye," they chorussed; "and, if yees says the word, we're yer min 
to cut over the border with yees."

   This, however, was an utter impossibility, for the country was full of 
Yankee cavalry, looking after Mosby and his men; so I declined their 
proffered kindness, much to their astonishment and fright, for they 

Page 128

begged me for the love of Heaven not to expose them. This I faithfully 
promised and kept; and, as I bade them good day, just before I was 
conducted into the presence of General Stephenson, one of them remarked to 
me, sotto voce, "Be my sowl! young fellow, it's too bad to see ye in this 
condition, when ye ought to be afther mountin' into a saddle."

   When ushered into General S.'s room, the General, a grizzly, gray-
haired, bearded man, scanned me closely for a short time. After enduring 
this as long at least as my patience could stand it, I said, "Is there 
anything remarkable about me, or that you admire?"

   "Yes, sir, your duplicity."

   "Duplicity?" I reiterated vaguely, seemingly unconscious of the meaning 
of the word.

Page 129

   "Yes, sir, duplicity: you are a spy, and --"

   I interrupted him somewhat sharply, but recollected myself, and held my 
tongue.

   "Where are your papers, passes, despatches?" he asked, angrily.

   "Papers I have none, except the 'New York Day-book' and the 'World' of 
yesterday; despatches - excuse me, did you say despatches?"

   "Yes, sir, despatches."

   "I'll save you a pun," I remarked, savagely: "I have none. As for my 
passes, they are there," pointing to a formidable looking official 
document that had been brought on with me.

   "Ugh!" was the rejoinder to this.

   Lieutenant Adams just then made his appearance, and a very nice and 
gentlemanly fellow he was, too. In striking contrast 

Page 130

with the General was his adjutant, the lieutenant.

   "You're the husband of Miss Belle Boyd, and you ought to be hung. By 
the way, we hung one to-day; didn't we, adjutant?"

   "What are you going to do?"

   "Hang you if you can't prove your innocence - send you to Washington, 
perhaps. That will do, sir;" and I left the room.

   In a few moments Lieutenant Adams came out, and said, and very kindly 
too, "Now, Mr. Hardinge, we'll go and get something to eat; and, if I can 
manage it, you shall sleep elsewhere than in a guardhouse. Come into my 
office for a short time, until I write a letter, and then we will go."

   Thanking him for his proffered hospitality, 

Page 131

I entered the room and seated myself near the fire - for it was a rainy 
day, and very disagreeable - and listened with feelings of horror and 
disgust to the brutal boasts of a braggadocio Provost-Marshal (I wish I 
could recollect his name, for the sake of humanity), who boasted of having 
enacted the part of Jack Ketch to a Confederate soldier of "White's 
Battalion" that very day; remarking, "By! --! didn't the fellow jump when 
the rope broke!" and he added, "Here's a piece of the rope, young fellow. 
Wouldn't you like to swing?"

   "Not with you, at least, for a hangman," I said; and I did not attempt 
to suppress my disgust from appearing.

   "D-- you! I'll give you a double allowance of dancing on nothing if I 
do," was the reply.

Page 132

   Shortly after this light and entertaining conversation, Lieutenant 
Adams and myself left them; and, after a good meal and a short tour about 
the town, we once more entered his office. But this time I did not stay 
long; for, although Lieutenant Adams did all in his power to keep me from 
the guard-house, to that delectable place I went, under the tender 
auspices of the Provost, who endeavoured to regale me with stories of men 
that he had "hung."

   As for sleeping there, it was out of the question. A terrific fire 
roared and blazed up the chimney, flinging its heat into a room whose 
measurement might have been ten feet by twelve. In this space were packed 
some twenty steaming, drunken soldiers and citizens; and add to this the 
fact that other animals besides rats and mice were at play in the room, I 
think 

Page 133

you will admit that I was at least uncomfortable.

   The next morning, at a later hour, I was allowed to proceed under guard 
to a very seedy-looking cellar rejoicing in the name of a "Restaurant," 
where I succeeded in getting some stale oysters and bean coffee. Having 
finished this delectable breakfast, I was again reminded that I was a 
prisoner in the Yankees' hands by the sentinel, who carried, in addition 
to his gun, a watch, and who ostentatiously glanced at it remarking, as he 
did so, "Time's up."

   "Any news from the front?" I ventured to remark.

   "No!"

   "Is Mosby in the neighbourhood?"

   "I s'pose so."

   "How often do the trains go northwards in the course of a day?"

Page 134

   "Twice."

   "Corporal," I said, "I am quite an amateur in my way. Come, you have 
excited my curiosity. Tell me, honestly, now, what you are; for you are 
the only one of the many soldiers that I have met in my intercourse with 
the tribe for the last three or four days who is rightly entitled to the 
name."

   He evidently felt flattered, for it was the "Open, Sesame," of his 
tongue, and he flatly informed me that he was a deserter from the Guards, 
who had been stationed in Canada. "And I wish to the devil I was back out 
of the dirty rapscallion set that I've got into. They say birds of a 
feather flock together; but I'm -- if I am a bird of their stripe."

   Our conversation was brought to a close at this period by the door of 
the guard-house 

Page 135

once more being closed upon me. For want of better amusement, I stood 
watching the farmers or their wives from the country round who came to 
procure the necessary passes to return to their homes again; and I must 
confess that the brutal remarks that accompanied the pass, or oftener its 
refusal, were enough to make the blood of any father, brother, or son boil 
with indignation.

   At 5 p.m., just as I was beginning to despair of ever being sent away 
from Harper's Ferry, a detective came to me and said, "All humbug; you're 
the chap, are yer? Come on!"

   To this tender appeal I merely said, "I am ready; lead on."

   As I passed out he significantly pointed to a six-shooter that was 
buckled to his side, and remarked, "None o' yer capers."

Page 136

   I could not but help laughing in the fellow's face; and I hardly know 
what would have been the finale, if Lieutenant Adams, who was passing in 
at that moment, had not said, "Treat him like a gentleman, --," calling 
him by his name. And it is to this remark that I, no doubt, am indebted 
for the little kindnesses I received on my way to Washington.

   We arrived in Washington about midnight, and the detective having 
visited the Provost's office, I was relieved of his further attendance 
upon me, and at 1 p.m. on Sunday morning I was consigned to a horrible 
hole known as the Forrest Hall, filled with everything that was infamous, 
low, and degraded.