274 GLOOMIEST DAYS OF THE WAR. [1862, the gloomiest days that had been seen during the war. We were paying the bitter penalty of many years of National wrong. "God works no otherwise; no mighty birth DURING the siege of Cincinnati, the Managing Editor telegraphed me thus: "Repair to Washington without any delay." An hour afterward I was upon an eastern train. At the Capital, I found orders to join the Army of the Potomac. It was during Lee's first invasion. In Pennsylvania, the governor and leading officials nearly doubled the Confederate army, estimating it at two hundred thousand men. Reaching Frederick, Maryland, I found more Union flags, proportionately, in that little city, than I had ever seen elsewhere. The people were intensely loyal. Four miles beyond, in a mountain region, I saw winding, fertile valleys of clear streams, rich in broad corn-fields; and white vine-covered farm-houses, half hidden in old apple-orchards; while great hay and grain stacks surrounded "The gray barns, looking from their hazy hills The roads were full of our advancing forces, with 276 ON THE WAR-PATH. [1862. bronzed faces and muscles compacted by their long campaigning. They had just won the victory of South Mountain, where Hooker found exercise for his peculiar genius in fighting above the clouds, and driving the enemy by an impetuous charge from a dizzy and apparently inaccessible hight. The heroic Army of the Potomac, which had suffered more, fought harder, and been defeated oftener than any other National force, was now marching cheerily under the unusual inspiration of victory. But what fearful loads the soldiers carried! Gun, canteen, knapsack, haversack, pack of blankets and clothing, often must have reached fifty pounds to the man. These modern Atlases had little chance in a race with the Rebels. There were crowds of sorry-looking prisoners marching to the rear; long trains of ambulances filled with our wounded soldiers, some of them walking back with their arms in slings, or bloody bandages about their necks or foreheads; Rebel hospitals, where unfortunate fellows were groaning upon the straw, with arms or legs missing; eleven of our lost, resting placidly side by side, while their comrades were digging their graves hard by; the unburied dead of the enemy, lying in pairs or groups, behind rocks or in fence corners; and then a Rebel surgeon, in bluish-gray uniform, coming in with a flag of truce, to look after his wounded. All the morning I heard the pounding of distant guns, and at 4 P. M., near the little village of Keedysville, I reached our front. On the extreme left I found an old friend whom I had not met for many years-Colonel Edward E. Cross, of the Fifth New Hampshire Infantry. Formerly a Cincinnati journalist, afterward a miner in Arizona, and then a colonel at the head of a Mexican regiment, his life had been full of interest and romance. 1862.] A NOVEL KIND OF DUEL. 277 While living in Arizona he incurred the displeasure of the pro-Slavery politicians, who ruled the territory. Mowry, their self-styled Delegate to Congress, challenged him-probably upon the hypothesis that, as a Northerner, he would not recognize the code; but Cross was an ugly subject for that experiment. He promptly accepted, and named Burnside rifles at ten paces! Mowry was probably ready to say with Falstaff "An' I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I'd have seen him damned ere I had challenged him." Both were dead shots. Their seconds placed them across the strong prairie wind, to interfere with their aim. At the first fire, a ball grazed Mowry's ear. At the second, a lock of Cross's hair was cut off. "Rather close work, is it not?" he calmly asked of a bystander. At the third fire, Mowry's rifle missed. His friends insisted that he was entitled to his fire. Those of the other party declared that this was monstrous, and that he should be killed if he attempted it. But Cross settled the difficulty by deciding that Mowry was right, and stood serenely, with folded arms, to receive the shot. The would-be Delegate was wise enough to fire into the air. Thus ended the bloodless duel, and the journalist was never challenged again. A year or two later, I chanced to be in El Paso, Mexico, shortly after Cross had visited that ancient city. An old cathedral, still standing, was built before the landing of the Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock. Ascending to the steeple, Cross pocketed and brought away the clapper of the old Spanish bell, which was hung there when the edifice was erected. The devout natives were greatly exasperated at this 278 HOW CORRESPONDENTS AVOIDED EXPULSION. [1862. profanation, and would have killed the relic-hunting Yankee had they caught him. I heard from them a great deal of swearing in bad Spanish on the subject. Now, when I greeted him, his men were deployed in a corn-field, skirmishing with the enemy's pickets. He was in a barn, where the balls constantly whistled, and occasionally struck the building. He had just come in from the front, where Confederate bullets had torn two rents in the shoulder of his blouse, without breaking the skin. A straggling soldier passed us, strolling down the road toward the Rebel pickets. "My young friend," said Cross, "if you don't want a hole through you, you had better come back." Just as he spoke, ping! came a bullet, perforating the hat of the private, who made excellent time toward the rear. A moment after, a shell exploded on a bank near us, throwing the dirt into our faces. We spent the night at the house of a Union resident, of Keedysville. General Marcy, McClellan's father-inlaw and chief of staff, who supped there, inquired, with some curiosity, how we had gained admission to the lines, as journalists were then nominally excluded from the army. We assured him that it was only by "strategy," the details whereof could not be divulged to outsiders. One of the Tribune correspondents had not left the army since the Peninsular campaign, and, remaining constantly within the lines, his position had never been questioned. Another, who had a nominal appointment upon the staff of a major-general, wore a saber and passed for an officer. I had an old pass, without date, from General Burnside, authorizing the bearer to go to and fro from his head-quarters at all times, which enabled me to go by all guards with ease. Marcy engaged lodgings at the house for McClellan ; |