Dorn escaping down stream. 7.25. Fight over. Van Dorn out of sight. Last gun fired. Jeff Thompson on fire in every part. Grand explosion. Whole interior of boat lifted five hundred feet high. Flames. Volumes of smoke. Bursting shells. Timbers, planks, fragments, raining all around us.

It was a complete annihilation of the Rebel fleet. Not a man was lost on our gunboats, and Commodore Ellet was the only one wounded.

The Rebel fleet began the action in good style, but maintained the line of battle a few minutes only. The appearance of the rams threw them into disorder. On the other hand, the line of battle taken by Commodore Davis was preserved to the end. Everything was as systematic and orderly as in a wellregulated household. The thought occurred, as I saw the steady onward movement of the fleet, which, after once starting to close in with the Rebels, did not for an instant slacken speed, that he was clearing the river of all Rebel obstructions with the same ease that a housewife sweeps dirt through a doorway. His orders were few. The main thing was to get to close quarters.

Embracing an early opportunity to reach the shore, I mingled freely with the crowd, to see how the thing was relished and to study the feelings of the people. Some looked exceedingly sour; some disconsolate; a few were defiant; many of the people were evidently good-natured, but deeply humiliated. A gentleman, resident of the city, informed me that he did not think the people cared anything about the Union, or had any desire to return to it, but they had an intense hatred of the tyranny to which they had been subjected, and were ready to welcome anything which would relieve them.

The Avalanche of that morning, hardly issued when the conflict began, said : —

"There was not a little excitement about the levee last night, occasioned by an officer coming down in a skiff announcing that three of the Federal gunboats were in the 'shute' above the Island. The signals and movements of the boats seemed to confirm the report, but we have no idea that it was true.

"Yesterday was quite lively. All reports about Fort Pillow were

listened to with interest, and they were not a few. By noon it was known that the fort was evacuated, and there was not a little excitement in consequence. Nearly all the stores were closed, and those that were open, with few exceptions, were rather indisposed to sell. Even a spool of cotton could not be had yesterday in stores which the day before had plenty and to spare. Besides the soldiers from Fort Pillow a fleet made us a visit which attracted much attention and formed the subject of general conversation. All seemed to regret what had been done and wished it were otherwise. So prevailing was the excitement that the common mode of salutation on Main Street was, ' When do you think the Federals will be here?' Each one made arrangements according to the tenor of the reply. Many persons were packing up to leave.

“In a word, all who could began to consider anxiously the question whether to go or stay. There was much running about on the streets, and evidently more or less excitement on every countenance. Some took matters coolly, and still believe that the Federals will never go to Memphis by river. All obstructions to their progress have not been removed and probably will not be. In fact, the prospect is very good for a grand naval engagement, which shall eclipse anything ever seen before. There are many who would like the engagement to occur, who do not much relish the prospect of its occurring very near the city. They think deeper water and scope and verge enough for such an encounter may be found farther up the river. All, however, are rejoiced that Memphis will not fall till conclusions are first tried on water and at the cannon's mouth."

The "conclusions" had been tried and the people had seen their fleet unceremoniously knocked to pieces.

There were thousands of negroes on the levee, interested spectators of the scene. I asked one athletic man what he thought of it? "O massa, I tinks a good deal of it. Uncle Abe's boats mighty powerful. Dey go through our boats jus like dey was eggshells." Another one standing by at once became interested in the conversation. Said he, "Captain Jeff Thompson, he cotch it dis time! He; hi! O how de balls did whiz!" There was an unmistakable sign of pleasure on the countenances of the colored population.

In fifteen minutes after the occupation of the city, enterprising news-boys accompanying the fleet were crying, "Here's the New York Herald! Times and Tribune! Chicago and St. Louis papers!"

How wonderfully had the upper Mississippi been repossessed! One by one the Rebel obstructions had been removed. How often had we been told that they were impregnable! How often that the gunboats would be destroyed! How often that never would the river be opened till the Confederacy was a recognized independent power! One short year and their labors, the ditch-digging, the cannon-casting, boat-building, their braggadocio, had come to naught.

The part taken by Commodore Ellet was glorious. He was a brave, gallant, dashing officer, the son of a noble mother, who lived in Philadelphia. Mr. Stuart, President of the Chris tian Commission, relates that later in the war he called to see her, at her request, to receive a large donation. He found a lady eighty-four years of age. A grandson had been killed in battle, the body had been brought home, and was lying in the house. Said Mrs. Ellet: "I have given my two sons, Commodore Ellet and General Ellet, and four grandchildren to my country. I don't regret this gift. If I had twenty sons I would give them all, for the country must be preserved. And if I was twenty years younger, I would go and fight myself to the last!"

CHAPTER VIII.

INVASION OF MARYLAND.

GREAT events were transpiring in Virginia. The magnificent army which passed down the Potomac in March, which had thrown up the tremendous fortifications at Yorktown, which had fought at Williamsburg, Fair Oaks, Gaines's Mills, Savage Station, Glendale, and Malvern, was once more at Washington. Manassas was a bloody plain. Pope had been defeated, sacrificed by Fitz John Porter. Day after day the booming of cannon had been heard in Washington, borne by the breezes along the wooded valley of the Potomac; far away at first, then nearer at Chantilly and Fairfax Court-House. Then came the stream of fugitives, and broken, disheartened ranks back to Arlington. The streets of Washington were thick with hungry, war-worn men. Long lines of ambulances wended into the city, with wounded for the hospitals, already overcrowded. The soldiers had pitiful tales to tell of the scenes of the Peninsula, and of the gory field of Manassas,how near they came to victory,-how Hooker and Heintzelman rolled back the lines of Stonewall Jackson,-how Fitz John Porter lingered within an hour's march of the conflict, tardily coming into line, and moving away when lightly pressed by the enemy. There were curses loud and deep breathed against Porter, Pope, and McClellan. The partisans of Porter and McClellan called Pope a braggadocio, while the soldiers who had fought with obstinacy, who had doubled up Jackson in the first day's battle, retorted that McClellan was a coward, who, through all the engagements on the Peninsula took good care to be out of the reach of hostile bullets or cannon shot. The cause of the Union was gloomy. Burnside had been hurried up from North Carolina to aid in repelling the invader. The sun shone peacefully through the August days, summer passed into autumn,

"And calm and patient Nature kept

Her ancient promise well,

Though o'er her bloom and greenness swept

The battle's breath of hell.”

Adversity is a test of faith. In those darkest hours there was no faltering of hope. The heart of the nation was serene. The people believed that God would give them the victory. The soldiers believed it. Those who were passing away from earth, who with quickened sight beheld the events of the hour in the light of eternity, trusted that Providence would give the victory to their companions in arms.

Colonel Broadhead, of Michigan, lying upon the battle-field of Manassas, with the shadow of death stealing over him, wrote a most touching farewell letter to his wife, in which he expressed his convictions as to who was responsible for the defeat. "MY DEAR WIFE:

"I write to you mortally wounded, from the battle-field. We have again been defeated, and ere this reaches you your children will be fatherless. Before I die let me implore that in some way it may be stated that General has been outwitted, and that is a traitor. Had they done their duty as I did mine, and had led as I did, the dear old flag had waved in triumph. I wrote to you yesterday morning. To-day is Sunday, and to-day I sink to the green couch of our final rest. I have fought well, my darling; and I was shot in the endeavor to rally our broken battalions. I could have escaped, but would not until all our hope was gone, and was shot, about the only one of our forces left on the field. Our cause is just, and our generals, not the enemy's, - have defeated us. In God's good time he will give us the victory. "And now, good by, wife and children. Bring them up I know you will - in the fear of God and love for the Saviour. But for you and the dear ones dependent, I should die happy. I know the blow will fall with crushing weight on you. Trust in Him who gave manna in the wilderness.

"Dr. North is with me. It is now after midnight, and I have spent most of the night in sending messages to you. Two bullets have gone through my chest, and directly through my lungs. I suffer little now, but at first the pain was acute. I have won the soldier's name, and am ready to meet now, as I must, the soldier's fate. I hope that from heaven I may see the glorious old flag wave again over the undivided country I have loved so well.

"Farewell, wife and friends, we shall meet again."