The commodore commissioned Captain Phelps to take possession of the city, and kindly gave me permission to accompany him to the shore. We stepped into a small boat and were rowed to the land, where stood the mayor, holding up a white handkerchief, with an excited crowd. around him. Some looked exceedingly sour; others disconsolate ; a few were defiant; many of the citizens were 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.

6

"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. 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

Some

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 lik 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 coloured population.

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

WORN

CHAPTER VII.

INVASION OF MARYLAND.

JORN down by the hardships of the campaign in Tennessee and on the Mississippi, with malaria in my blood, I returned East, arriving in Boston on a bright June morning.

"You must take the next train for Virginia," said the proprietor of the Boston Journal.

The correspondent sent to the Army of the Potomac during my absence in the West had succumbed to the hardships of camp life and the readers of the paper were dependent upon other journals for information.

I hastened to Washington to find myself debarred from reaching the army by the War Department. It was the week of disasters to General McClellan, during which were fought the battles of Gaines' Mills, Savage Station, White Oak Swamp, and Malvern Hill. Upon inquiring why I could not as an accredited correspondent join the Army of the Potomac once more, I was informed that the army was short of provisions and the department did not want any more men who were not soldiers about the camp. The answer was a subterfuge. General Halleck had been called from the West to be military adviser. He had attempted to drive the correspondents from the army in Tennessee, and doubtless was somewhat sensitive over the criticisms of the press upon his slowness in advancing upon Corinth, and finding, instead of a great army confronting him, a deserted town.

But the insatiate public must have information; if I could not obtain news from personal observation it must be had second-hand. Baltimore, rather than Washington, was the focal point, there being daily communication by steamers between that city and Fortress Monroe. I hastened to that city, took quarters at the Eutaw House to find a jostling crowd of army contractors, speculators, sutlers, commissaries, a Babel of voices. It was not difficult to see that many faces in Baltimore brightened over the news of disaster to the Army of the Potomac. The fires of Secession were kindling once more. Men and women whose sym

pathies were with the South rejoiced at the outcome of the seven days' fighting, the forced retreat of McClellan to the protection of the gunboats in James River.

The boat from Fortress Monroe was due at eight o'clock in the morning. I stood upon the pier and beheld the steamer, its decks swarming with men — soldiers, officers, civilians — as it swept to its accustomed landing.

Amid the crowd I spied a man whom I thought might possibly be a correspondent.

"Yes, I am a correspondent of a New York paper," he said, in response to my inquiry.

"I will sell you my information for fifty dollars," he added.

"Very well, I will give it if you have anything definite. Begin with the first battle and go through to the end."

Two minutes' questioning was sufficient to enlighten me as to his calling, that of a sutler, who knew nothing as to what had taken place.

The bell of the locomotive was clanging in the railroad station and the train just ready to start for New York. I was sure that among the many men wearing uniforms I should find here and there one who could give me some information. I was not disappointed. Going through the train, I found several who could tell me what they had seen. By the time the train reached New York, my note-book was well filled. Through the night this pen was at work, and the morning trains carried this information to Boston, thus putting the people of New England on a footing with those of the metropolis in the reception of news from the seat of war. It was not a description from personal observation, but after a third of a century the account of the movements of the army, from the first battle at Gaines' Mills, where Stonewall Jackson after his march from the Shenandoah fell upon McClellan's divided army in conjunction with Lee, to the defeat of the Confederates at Malvern Hill, is, in the main, correct. Very early in the war I learned that unremitting vigilance and energy must be exercised in obtaining and transmitting information for the public. More than this, I learned that a correspondent must exercise a wise discrimination in judging between what was true and what false. Officers of the line saw only what took place around them. Colonels were confident that their individual regiments were especially brave, brigadiers assured me that their commands broke the enemy's line, major-generals detailed the movements