but to advance by a forced march of thirty miles to reach the capital, in accordance with the orders I at first received, but which subsequent events in my judgment vary in their execution, believing from the telegraphs that there will be others in great numbers to aid me. Being accompanied by officers of more experience, who will be able to direct the affair, I think it will be accomplished. We have no light batteries; I have therefore telegraphed to Governor Andrew to have the Boston Light Battery put on shipboard at once, to-night, to help me in marching on Washington. In pursuance of this plan, I have detailed Captains Devereux and Briggs, with their commands, to hold the boat at Havre de Grace.

"Eleven, A. M.

Colonel Lefferts has refused to march with me. I go alone at three o'clock, P. M., to execute this imperfectly written plan. If I succeed, success will justify me. If I fail, purity of intention will excuse want of judgment or rashness."

The plan was a little changed in the morning, when the rumor prevailed that the ferry-boat at Havre de Grace had been seized and barricaded by a large force of rebels. The two companies were not sent forward. It was determined that the regiment should go in a body, seize the boat and use it for transporting the troops to Annapolis.

"I may have to sink or burn your boat," said the general to Mr. Felton.

"Do so," replied the president, and immediately wrote an order authorizing its destruction, if necessary.

It had been the design of General Butler, as we have seen, to leave Philadelphia in the morning train; but he delayed his departure in the hope that Colonel Lefferts might be induced to share in the expedition. The Seventh had arrived at sunrise, and General Butler made known his plan to Colonel Lefferts, and invited his co-operation. That officer, suddenly intrusted with the lives (but the honor also) of nearly a thousand of the flower of the young men of New York, was overburdened with a sense of responsibility, and felt it to be his duty to consult his officers. The consultation was long, and, I believe, not harmonious, and the result was, that the Seventh embarked in the afternoon in a steamboat at Philadelphia, with the design of going to Washington by the Potomac river, leaving to the men of Massachusetts the honor and the danger of opening a path through Maryland. It is impossible

for a New Yorker, looking at it in the light of subsequent events, not to regret, and keenly regret, the refusal of officers of the favorite New York regiment to join General Butler in his bold and wise movement. But they had not the light of subsequent events to aid them in their deliberations, and they, doubtless, thought that their first duty was to hasten to the protection of Washington, and avoid the risk of detention by the way. It happened on this occasion, as in so many others, that the bold course was also the prudent and successful one. The Seventh was obliged, after all, to take General Butler's road to Washington.

At eleven in the morning of the twentieth of April, the Eighth Massachusetts regiment moved slowly away from the dépôt in Broad street toward Havre de Grace, where the Susquehannah river empties into the Chesapeake Bay-forty miles from Philadelphia, sixty-four from Annapolis. General Butler went through each car explaining the plan of attack, and giving the requisite orders. His design was to halt the train one mile from Havre de Grace, advance his two best drilled companies as skirmishers, follow quickly with the regiment, rush upon the barricades and carry them at the point of the bayonet, pour headlong into the ferryboat, drive out the rebels, get up steam and start for Annapolis.

Having assigned to each company its place in the line, and given all due explanation to each captain, the general took a seat and instantly fell asleep.

And now, the bustle being over, upon all those worthy men fell that seriousness, that solemnity, which comes to those who value their lives, and whose lives are valuable to others far away, but who are about, for the first time, to incur mortal peril for a cause which they feel to be greater and dearer than life. Goethe tells us that valor can neither be learned nor forgotten. I do not believe it. Certainly, the first peril does, in some degree, appall the firmest heart, especially when that peril is quietly approached on the easy seat of a railway car during a two hours' ride. Scarcely a word was spoken. Many of the men sat erect, grasping their muskets firmly, and looking anxiously out of the windows.

One man blenched, and one only. The general was startled from his sleep by the cry of, "Man overboard!" The train was stopped. A soldier was seen running across the fields as though pursued by a mad dog. Mad Panic had seized him, and he had jumped from a

car, incurring ten times the danger from which he strove to escape. The general started a group of country people in pursuit, offering them the lawful thirty dollars if they brought the deserter to Havre de Grace in time. The train moved again; the incident broke the spll, and the cars were filled with laughter. The man was brought in. His sergeant's stripe was torn from his arm, and he was glad to compound his punishment by serving the regiment in the capacity of a menial.

At the appointed place, the train was stopped, the regiment was formed, and marched toward the ferry-boat, skirmishers in advance. It mustered thirteen officers and seven hundred and eleven men. *

CHAPTER IV.

ANNAPOLIS.

Ir was a false alarm. There was not an armed enemy at Havre de Grace. The ferry-boat Maryland lay at her moorings in the peaceful possession of her crew; and nothing remained but to get up steam, put on board a supply of coal, water and provisions, embark the troops, and start for Annapolis.

Whether the captain and crew were loyal or treasonable-whether they were likely to steer the boat to Annapolis or to Baltimore, or run her ashore on some traitorous coast, were questions much discussed among officers and men. The captain professed the most ardent loyalty, and General Butler was more inclined to trust him than some of his officers were. There were men on board, however, who knew the way to Annapolis, and were abundantly capable of navigating any craft on any sea. It was resolved, therefore, to permit the captain to command the steamer, but to keep a sharp lookout ahead, and an unobserved scrutiny of the engine-room. Upon the first indication of treachery, captain and engineers should find themselves in an open boat upon the Chesapeake, or stowed away in the hold, their places supplied with seafaring Marbleheaders. Never before, I presume, had such a variously skilled body of men gone to war as the Massachusetts Eighth. It was not merely that all trades and professions had their representatives among them, but some of the companies had almost a majority of college-bred men. Major Winthrop did not so much exaggerate when he said, that if the word were given, "Poets to the front!" or "Painters present arms!" or "Sculptors charge bayonets!" a baker's dozen out of every company would respond. Navigating a steamboat was the simplest of all tasks to many of them.

The

At six in the evening they were off, packed as close as negroes in the steerage of a slave ship. Darkness closed in upon them, and the men lay down to sleep, each with his musket in his hands. general, in walking from one part of the boat to another, stumbled over and trod upon many a growling sleeper. He was too auxious

upon the still unsettled point of the captain's fidelity to sleep; so he went prowling about among the prostrate men, exchanging notes with those who had an eye upon the compass, and with those who were observing the movements of the engineers. There were moments when suspicion was strong in some minds; but captain and engineers did their duty, and at midnight the boat was off the ancient city of Annapolis.

They had, naturally enough, expected to come upon a town wrapped in midnight slumber. There was no telegraphic or other communication with the North; how could Annapolis, then, know that they were coming? It certainly could not; yet the whole town was evidently awake and astir. Rockets shot up into the sky. Swiftly moving lights were seen on shore, and all the houses in sight were lighted up. The buildings of the Naval Academy were lighted. There was every appearance of a town in extreme commotion. It had been General Butler's intention to land quietly while the city slept, and astonish the dozing inhabitants in the morning with a brilliantly executed reveille. Noting these signs of disturbance, he cast anchor, and determined to delay his landing till daylight.

Colonel Andrew Jackson Butler volunteered to go on shore alone, and endeavor to ascertain the cause of the commotion. He was almost the only man in the party who wore plain clothes. The general consenting, a boat was brought round to the gangway, and Colonel Butler stepped into it. As he did so, he handed his revolver to a friend, saying, that he had no intention of fighting a town full of people, and if he was taken prisoner, he preferred that his pistol should fight, during the war, on the Union side. The brother in command assured him, that if any harm came to him in Annapolis, it would be extremely bad for Annapolis. The gallant colonel settled himself to his work, and glided away into the dark

ness.

The sound of oars was again heard, and a boat was descried approaching the steamer. A voice from the boat said:

"What steamer is that?"

The steamer was as silent as though it were filled with dead

men.

"What steamer is that?" repeated the voice.

No answer.

The boat seemed to be making off.