suddenness of this attack, and not knowing what more might be in store, we forbore to proceed, and gathered together defensively. There were but seven of us altogether, and one was without a weapon of any kind. Brownell instantly reloaded, and while doing so perceived the door through which the assailant's shot had passed, beginning to open. He brought his rifle to the shoulder, and menaced the occupants, two travellers, with immediate death if they stirred. The three other privates guarded the passages, of which there were quite a number converging to the point where we stood, while the Chaplain and Winser looked to the stair-case by which we had descended, and the adjoining chambers. I ran down stairs to see if anything was threatened from the story below, but it soon appeared there was no danger from that quarter. However, we were not at all disposed to move from our position. From the opening doors, and through the passages, we discerned a sufficient number of forms to assure us that we were dreadfully in the minority. I think now that there was no danger, and that the single assailant acted without concert with anybody; but it is impossible to know accurately, and it was certainly a doubtful question then. The first thing to be done was to look to our dead friend and leader. He had fallen on his face, and the streams of blood that flowed from his wound had literally flooded the way. The Chaplain turned him gently over, and I stooped and called his name aloud, at which I thought then he murmured inarticulately. I presume I was mistaken, and I am not sure that he spoke a word after being struck, although in my dispatch I repeated a single exclamation which I had believed he uttered. It might have been Brownell, or the Chaplain, who was close behind me. Winser and I lifted the body with all the care we could apply, and laid it upon a bed in a room near by. The rebel flag, stained with his blood, and purified by this contact from the baseness of its former meaning, we laid about his feet. It was at first difficult to discover the precise locality of his wound, for all parts of his coat were equally saturated with blood. By cautiously loosening his belt and unbuttoning his coat, we found where the shot had penetrated. None of us had any medical knowledge, but we saw that all hope must be resigned. Nevertheless, it seemed proper to summon the surgeon as speedily as possible. This could not easily be done, for, secluded as we were in that part of the town, and uncertain whether an ambush might not be awaiting us also, no man could volunteer to venture forth alone, and to go together, and leave the Colonel's body behind, was out of the question. We wondered at the long delay of the first company, for the advance of which the Colonel had sent back before approaching the hotel, but we subsequently learned that they had mistaken a street, and gone a little out of their way. Before they arrived we had removed some of the unsightly stains from the Colonel's features, and composed his limbs. His expression in death was beautifully natural. The Colonel was a singularly handsome man, and, excepting the pallor, there was nothing different in his countenance now from what all his friends had so lately been accustomed to gladly recognize. The detachment was heard approaching at last, a reënforcement was easily called up, and the surgeon was sent for. His arrival, not long after, of course sealed SCENE AT THE MARSHALL HOUSE. our own unhappy belief. A sufficient guard was presently distributed over the house, but meanwhile I had remembered the Colonel's earnestness about the telegraph seizure, and obtained permission to guide a squad of Zouaves to the office, which was found to be entirely open, with all the doors ajar, yet apparently deserted. It looked a little like another chance of a surprise. The men remained in charge. I presume it was not wholly in order for me, a civilian, to start upon this mission, but I was the only person who knew the whereabouts of the office, and the Colonel had been very positive about the matter. When I returned to the hotel, there was a terrible scene enacting. A woman had run from a lower room to the stairway where the body of the defender of the secession flag lay, and recognizing it, cried aloud with an agony so heart-rending that no person could witness it without emotion. She flung her arms in the air, struck her brow madly, and seemed in every way utterly abandoned to desolation and frenzy. She offered no reproaches-appeared indeed almost regardless of our presence, and yielded only to her own frantic despair. It was her husband that had been shot. He was the proprietor of the hotel. His name was James T. Jackson. Winser was confident it was the same man who met us at the door when we entered, and told us he was a boarder. His wife, as I said, was wild almost to insanity. Yet she listened when spoken to, and although no consolation could be offered her by us for what she had lost, she seemed sensible to the assurance that the safety of her children, for whom she expressed fears, could not possibly be endangered. 199 obloquy upon the slayer of Colonel Ellsworth, but simply because it struck me as a frightful fact, that I say the face of the dead man wore the most revolting expression of rage and hatred that 1 ever saw. Perhaps the nature of his wound added to this effect, and the wound was something so appalling that I shall not attempt to describe it, as it impressed me. It is probable that such a result from a bullet-wound could not ensue once in a thousand times. Either of Brownell's onslaughts would have been instantaneously fatal. The sabre-wound was not less effective than that of the ball. The gun which Jackson had fired lay beneath him, clasped in his arms, and as we did not at first all know that both barrels had been discharged, it was thought necessary to remove it, lest it should be suddenly seized and made use of from below. In doing this his countenance was revealed. "As the morning advanced, the townspeople began to gather in the vicinity, and a guard was fixed, preventing ingress and egress. This was done to keep all parties from knowing what had occurred, for the Zouaves were so devoted to their Colonel that it was feared if they all were made acquainted with the real fact, they would sack the house. On the other hand, it was not thought wise to let the Alexandrians know thus early the fate of their townsman. The Zouaves were the only regiment that had arrived, and their head and soul was gone. Besides, the duties which the Colonel had hurriedly assigned before leaving them had scattered some companies in various quarters of the town. Several persons sought admission to the Marshall House, among them a sister of the dead man, who had "It is not from any wish to fasten heard the rumor, but who was not allowed to know the true state of the case. It five thousand of the gallant and self-sacwas painful to hear her remark, as she rificing firemen of the city to greet the went away, that 'of course they wouldn't departure of their associates with their shoot a man dead in his own house about good wishes and prayers. To-morrow a bit of old bunting.' Many of the lod- his lifeless remains will be borne through gers were anxious to go forth, but they the same streets, followed by a hundred were detained until after I left. All sorts thousand of his sorrowing countrymen of arguments and persuasions were em- and friends. Had he met his fate in batployed, but the Zouave guards were in- tle, in the face of honorable adversaries exorable. no feeling of bitterness would mingle with the tears which will be shed for him. But it has pleased God, for purposes inscrutable to us, that he should be the victim of a double perfidy; that he should be struck down by the hand of an assassin and a conspirator against the "At about 7 o'clock, a mounted officer rode up, and informed us that the Michigan First had arrived, and had captured a troop of rebels, who had at first demanded time for reflection, but who afterward concluded to yield at discretion. Not long after this, the surgeon made arrange- Government of his country-illustrating ments for the conveyance of Colonel Ellsworth's body to Washington. It was properly vailed from sight, and, with great tenderness, taken by a detachment of the Zouaves and the 71st New York Regiment (a small number of whom embarked in the morning at the Navy Yard, and came down with us), to the steamboat, by which it was brought to the Navy Yard."* The remains of Ellsworth were borne to the Navy Yard at Washington and thence to the President's mansion, where the funeral services were performed. On their arrival in New York they were received at the City Hall and carried in an imposing public procession through the city. In the military orders directing the funeral rites issued by Major-General Dix, then in command of the 1st division New York Volunteers, that officer thus spoke of the deceased and the circumstances attending his death : "Three weeks ago, strong in health and in hope, he led his command through our streets to the place of embarkation, followed by *New York Tribune, May 26, 1861. the painful truth that the career of Secession, which began in public treachery, is to be carried out in a spirit of bloodthirstiness and private revenge." From New York the remains were taken to Mechanicsville, the native place of Ellsworth and the residence of his parents, on the banks of the Hudson near Troy, where they were interred with military honors. Much has been said of the conduct of Jackson in taking the life of Ellsworth. The act certainly exhibited a rough species of heroism, however misguided and brutal we may think it, for it was per formed deliberately in defence of the cherished symbol which he had publicly pledged himself to maintain, and with little, if any, prospect of escaping with his life. On the other hand, the town having virtually surrendered, the murderous assault upon the unsuspecting officer may be regarded as a simple act of assassination. It was so regarded at the North, and not without reason. At the South, of course, a very different temper prevailed. The deed of Jackson TOUCHING IMPRESSIONS. was everywhere proclaimed as that of a hero; his praises were sung and recorded and his example put forward as an incentive to all defenders of their homes, and an instructive warning to all Northern invaders. Sums of money were subscribed and collections taken up even in churches for a fund for his family. "The deed of patriotism," was the language of an article in the Charleston Mercury, written in that tone of exaggeration which seemed to be an element of the Southern cause, "performed by Jackson has stained; for the first time, the 'Stars and Bars' of the Confederate flag with blood-and that blood worthy of a true Southern heart-the blood of a hero. Upon his own hearth he fell, arms in hand, dealing death to the insulter of that flag-one man against a thousand murderers. He fell hewed to pieces by the rabble horde. But his spirit will live will live upon the storm --and like the hurricanes of the South, will sweep from the uttermost shores of the Gulf to the rugged mountain peaks of the North. It will soar over the field of bloody battle to come and shriek aloud for vengeance amid carnage. It shall rush forth in the booming of every cannon, and shall gleam in the flash of every Southern blade. And it will live, too, in times to come, when the smoke of battle shall have passed away, and the memory of blood shall have almost been forgotten. The name of Jackson shall be enshrined in the heart of Virginia as the name of Jasper in South Carolina, and recorded upon the brightest pages of her history. His death is a victory won, and his name should be inscribed, in monumental marble, by the side of Virginia's worthiest sons." 201 be regarded in any proper military estimate of the unnecessary exposure, by which Ellsworth thus lost his life, was forgotten in the impressions of his youth, his strength and beauty, his enthusiasm and devotion to the cause of his country. The resolution with which he had overcome the obstacles of fortune and raised himself, thus early, to an honored position, the purity of his character, the friendship of the President which he enjoyed, the welfare and conduct of his corps so immediately and wholly depending on his personal influence, all, with the circumstances of his foremost place among the martyrs of the war, enhanced the appreciation of his loss. His chivalric enthusiasm was called to mind, while the account of his last midnight hours in the camp added a touch of personal feeling and pathos to the story of his brief career. In those silent hours, seemingly more silent, in anticipation of the coming tumult, after arranging the details of his command he wrote two letters, one addressed to a lady in the West to whom he was betrothed, the other to his parents. The latter has been published. It is sadly in earnest, yet cheerful in its reliance on Providence. We can offer no better tribute to the memory of the gallant young officer whom "the Fates but showed to the earth," than to recite it. It reads, "My dear father and mother-The regiment is ordered to move across the river tonight. We have no means of knowing what reception we are to meet with. I am inclined to the opinion that our entrance to the city of Alexandria will be hotly contested, as I am just informed a large force has arrived there to-day. Should this happen, my dear parents, it The injudicious act, for such it must may be my lot to be injured in some manner. Whatever may happen, cherish the consolation that I was engaged in the performance of a sacred duty; and, to-night, thinking over the probabilities of to-morrow, and the occurrences of the past, I am perfectly content to accept whatever my future may be, confident that He who noteth even the fall of a sparrow, will have some purpose even in the fate of one like me. My darling and ever-loved parents, good-bye. God bless, protect and care for you." CHAPTER XIV. AFFAIRS ON THE POTOMAC. "Fairfax County being occupied by the troops under my command, I deem it proper to repeat publicly the assurances I have personally given to many of the good citizens about me that all of its inhabitants may return to or remain in their homes and usual pacific occupations in peace and confidence, and with assured protection to their persons and property, as the United States forces in Virginia will be employed for no other purpose than that of suppressing unlawful combinations against the constituted authorities of the Union, and of causing the laws thereof to be duly respected and executed."* MILITARY possession having thus been Immediately on his arrival at these taken of the positions in Virginia front-desirable headquarters, General Sanding the Capital, the main avenues to the ford issued the following proclamation: city between Georgetown and Alexandria guarded, the railway approaches from the interior cut off and intrenchments thrown up for protection, MajorGeneral Charles W. Sandford of the New York militia established his headquarters at Arlington House, the well-known seat of the Custis family, which had been a few days before vacated by its owner and occupant, General Robert E. Lee, formerly of the United States army, and of late commander of the insurgent forces in the vicinity. As an indication of the courteous spirit in which these novel military proceedings were commenced, it may be mentioned that on presenting himself before the mansion General Sandford sent to inquire if the family of the rebel officer remained, and if so that he would place a guard for their protection. On being assured that they had left a fortnight before, he sent to General Lee to say that he was obliged to make Arlington House his quarters, and would see that the premises received no dam age. * Special Dispatch to the New York Tribune, May 26, 1861 Colonel O. B. Wilcox, of the 1st Regiment Michigan Volunteers, was at the same time in command of the Union forces in and about Alexandria. In a proclamation of the 26th he announced the moderate course of policy he would pursue towards the city. "The peace of the city," he promised, "will be preserved unless attacked by the enemy. Private property will be respected and *Proclamation of Major-General Sandford, May 25 1861. |