influence was at an end. The question of withdrawal being proposed to the cabinet, it was negatived, and the virtuous Floyd relieved his colleagues by resigning. Mr. Holt succeeded him; the government stiffened; the commissioners went home; and General Butler, certain now that war was impending, prepared to depart.

He had one last, long interview with the southern leaders, at which the whole subject was gone over. For three hours he reasoned with them, demonstrating the folly of their course, and warning them of final and disastrous failure. The conversation was friendly, though warm and earnest on both sides. Again he was invited to join them, and was offered a share in their enterprise, and a place in that "sound and homogeneous government" which they meant to establish. He left them no room to doubt that he took sides with his country, and that all he had, and all he was, should be freely risked in that country's cause. Late at night they separated to know one another no more except as mortal foes.

The next morning, General Butler went to Senator Wilson, of Massachusetts, an old acquaintance, though long a political opponent, and told him that the southern leaders meant war, and urged him to join in advising the governor of their state to prepare the militia of Massachusetts for taking the field.

At that time, and for some time longer, the southern men were divided among themselves respecting the best mode of beginning hostilities. The bolder spirits were for seizing Washington, preventing the inauguration of Mr. Lincoln, and placing Breckinridge, if he would consent, or some other popular man if he would not, in the presidential mansion, who should issue a proclamation to the whole country, and endeavor to rally to his support a sufficient number of northern democrats to distract and paralyze the loyal states. That more prudent counsels prevailed was not from any sense of the turpitude of such treason, but from a conviction that if anything could rouse the North to armed resistance, it would be the seizure of the capital. Nothing short of that, thought the secessionists, would induce a money-making, pusillanimous people to leave their shops and their counting-houses, to save their country from being broken to pieces and brought to naught. The dream of these traitors was to destroy their country without fighting; and so the scheme of a coup d'état was discarded. But General Butler left Washington believing that the bolder course was the one which

would be adopted. He believed this the more readily, because it was the course which he would have advised, had he, too, been a traitor. One thing, however, he considered absolutely certain: there was going to be a war between Loyalty and Treason; between the Slave Power and the Power which had so long protected and "ostered it.

He found the North anxious, but still incredulous. He went to Governor Andrew, and gave him a full relation of what he had heard and seen at Washington, and advised him to get the militia of the state in readiness to move at a day's notice. He suggested that all the men should be quietly withdrawn from the militia force who were either unable or unwilling to leave the state for the defense of the capital, and their places supplied with men who could and would. The governor, though he could scarcely yet believe that war was impending, adopted the suggestion. About one-half the men resigned their places in the militia; the vacancies were quickly filled; and many of the companies, during the winter months, drilled every evening in the week, except Sundays. General Butler further advised that two thousand overcoats be made, as the men were already provided with nearly every requisite for marching, except those indispensable garments, which could not be extemporized. To this suggestion there was sturdy opposition, since it involved the expenditure of twenty thousand dollars, and that for an exigency which Massachusetts did not believe was likely to occur. One gentleman, high in office, said that General Butler made the proposal in the interest of the moths of Boston, which alone would get any good of the overcoats. Others insinuated that he only wanted a good contract for the Middlesex Woolen Mills, in which he was a large shareholder. The worthy and patriotic governor, however, strongly recommended the measure, and the overcoats were begun. The last stitches in the last hundred of them were performed while the men stood drawn up on the common waiting to strap them to their knapsacks before getting into the cars for Washington.

Having thus assisted in preparing Massachusetts to march, General Butler resumed his practice at the bar, vibrating between Boston and Lowell as of old, not without much inward chafing at the humiliating spectacle which the country presented during those dreary, shameful months. One incident cheered the gloom. One word was uttered at Washington which spoke the heart of the country. One

man in the cabinet felt as patriots feel when the flag of their country is threatened with dishonor. One order was given which did not disgrace the government from which it issued. "IF ANY ONE

ATTEMPTS TO HAUL DOWN THE AMERICAN FLAG SHOOT HIM ON THE SPOT!" "When I read it," wrote General Butler to General Dix long after, "my heart bounded with joy. It was the first bold stroke in favor of the Union under the past administration." He had the pleasure of sending to General Dix, from New Orleans, the identical flag which was the object of the order, and the confederate flag which was hoisted in its place; as well as of recommending for promotion the sailor, David Ritchie, who contrived to snatch both flags from the cutter when traitors abandoned and burnt her as Captain Farragut's fleet drew near.

The fifteenth of April arrived. Fort Sumter had fallen. The president's proclamation calling for troops was issued. In the morning came a telegram to Governor Andrew from Senator Wilson, asking that twenty companies of Massachusetts militia be instantly dispatched to defend the seat of government. A few hours after, the formal requisition arrived from the secretary of war calling for two full regiments. At quarter before five that afternoon, General Butler was in court at Boston trying a cause. To him came Colonel Edward F. Jones, of the Sixth regiment, bearing an order from Governor Andrew, directing him to muster his command forthwith in Boston common, in readiness to proceed to Washington. This regiment was one of General Butler's brigade, its headquarters being Lowell, twenty-five miles distant, and the companies scattered over forty miles of country. The general endorsed the order, and at five Colonel Jones was on the Lowell train. There was a good deal of swift riding done that night in the region round about Lowell; and at eleven o'clock on the day following, there was Colonel Jones with his regiment on Boston common. Not less prompt were the Third and Eighth regiments, for they began to arrive in Boston as early as nine, each company welcomed at the dépôt by applauding thousands. The Sixth regiment, it was determined, should go first, and the governor deemed it best to strengthen it with two additional companies. "It was nine o'clock, on the evening of the 16th," reports Adjutant-General Schouler, "before your excellency decided to attach the commands of Captains Samp son and Dike to the Sixth regiment. A messenger was dispatched

to Stoneham, with orders for Captain Dike. He reported to me at eight o'clock the next morning, that he found Captain Dike at his Louse in Stoneham, at two o'clock in the morning, and placed your excellency's orders in his hands; that he read them, and said: "Tell the adjutant-general that I shall be at the state house with my full company by eleven o'clock to-day.' True to his word, he reported at the time, and that afternoon, attached to the Sixth, the company left for Washington. Two days afterward, on the 19th of April, during that gallant march through Baltimore, which is now a matter of history, Captain Dike was shot down while leading his company through the mob. Several of his command were killed and wounded, and he received a wound in the leg, which will render him a cripple for life."

The general, too, was going. During the night following the 15th of April, he had been at work with Colonel Jones getting the Sixth together. On the morning of the 16th, he was in the cars, as usual, going to Boston, and with him rode Mr. James G. Carney, of Lowell, president of the Bank of Redemption, in Boston. "The governor will want money," said the general. "Can not the Bank of Redemption offer a temporary loan of fifty thousand dollars to help off the troops?"

It can, and shall, was the reply, in substance, of the president; and in the course of the morning, a note offering the loan was in the governor's hands.

General Butler went not to court that morning. As yet, no brigadier had been ordered into service, but there was one brigadier who was on fire to serve; one who, from the first summons, had been resolved to go, and to stay to the end of the fight, whether he went as private or as lieutenant-general. Farewell the learned plea, and the big fees that swell the lawyers' bank account! Farewell the spirit-stirring speech, the solemn bench, and all the pomp and circumstance of glorious law! General Butler's occupation was about to be changed. He telegraphed to Mr. Wilson, asking him to remind Mr. Cameron, that a brigade required a brigadier; and back from Washington came an order calling for a brigade of four full regiments, to be commanded by a brigadier-general.

That point gained, the next was to induce Governor Andrew to select the particular brigadier whom General Butler had in his mind when he dispatched the telegram to Mr. Wilson. There

were two whose commissions were of older date than his own; General Adams and General Pierce; the former sick, the latter desiring the appointment. General Pierce had the advantage of being a political ally of the governor. On the other hand, General Butler had suggested the measures which enabled the troops to take the field, had got the loan of fifty thousand dollars, had procured the order for a brigadier. He was, moreover, Benjamin F. Butler, a gentleman not unknown in Boston, though long veiled from the general view by a set of obstinately held unpopular political opinions. These considerations, aided, perhaps, by a little wire-pulling, prevailed; and in the morning of the 17th, at ten o'clock, he received the order to take command of the troops.

All that day he worked as few men can work. There were a thousand things to do; but there were a thousand willing hearts and hands to help. The Sixth regiment was off in the afternoon, addressed before it moved by Governor Andrew and General Butler. Two regiments were embarked on board a steamer for Fortress Monroe, then defended by two companies of regular artillerya tempting prize for the rebels. Late at night, the General went home to bid farewell to his family, and prepare for his final departure. The next morning, back again to Boston, accompanied by his brother, Colonel Andrew Jackson Butler, who chanced to be on a visit to his ancient home, after eleven years' residence in California; where, with Broderick and Hooker, he had already done battle against the slave power, the lamented Broderick having died in his arms. He served now as a volunteer aid to the General, and rendered good service on the eventful march. At Boston, General Butler stopped at his accustomed barber-shop. While he was under the artist's hands, a soldier of the departed Sixth regi ment came in sorrowful, begging to be excused from duty; saying that he had left his wife and three children crying.

"I am not the man for you to come to, sir," said the General, แ "for I have just done the same," and straightway sent for a policeman to arrest him as a deserter.

A hurried visit to the steamer bound for Fortress Monroe. All was in readiness there. Then to the Eighth regiment, in the Common, which he was to conduct to Washington, by way of Baltimore; no intimation of the impending catastrophe to the Sixth having yet been received. The Eighth marched to the cars, and