While it may very often become expedient for a spy, while perambulating in an enemy's country, to drink socially with those with whom he desires to communicate, it is always a dangerous expedient, because, of all persons, a spy requires a cool and clear head.
Although these Confederate soldiers, with whom I was that night associated, had not the slightest suspicion of my true character and purposes, yet, if I had been made foolishly drunk by them, there is no telling what my loosened tongue might have done for me. We were—all three of us—very much "gone" on the enslaved beauty, and under such softening influences, at this particular time, a very light dose of Virginia "apple-jack," added to the "Maryland" influence, would have completely upset us all.
In fact, I was in greater danger of losing my heart than my head. The beautiful tableau which we had just witnessed, coupled with the presence of refined and lovely ladies, accompanied by the sweet music of Maryland, had more effectually intoxicated my senses than the seductive "apple-jack."
It will be remembered that in our set was the Lieutenant, who was supposed to have been a staid married man at home in Maryland, and it would hardly be fair now to print his desperate efforts to cut out the boys of his company, simply because he was an officer. We were only able to defeat his intrigue by bringing to our aid the gallant and handsome Second Lieutenant, a dark-eyed Mississippi gentleman, but he, with base ingratitude, took unfair advantage of the opportunities we had afforded him and used his big black eyes and seductive smiles to capture our girl—and she, the beautiful but uncertain Capitola, the friend of the Maryland refugees, surrendered to our Mississippi Lieutenant, and there was great trouble and heart-burning in that Rebel battery ever after.
My undertakings and surroundings in Richmond were not exactly adapted to the production of humorous or funny effects, but I had lots of fun, all the same, though I was not sent there for that purpose.
I went about the city during daylight in the garb of a Confederate soldier, carrying in my pocket the pass of the commanding officer at Camp Lee, which was furnished me freely through my Maryland Captain's influence.
General Winder, who became afterward notorious as the Provost-Marshal-General of Richmond and keeper of Libby Prison, was a Maryland man, and it so happened that he had known our Captain intimately while the two lived together in Baltimore. This was a most fortunate circumstance for my schemes, as the first endorsement I had taken General Winder was of a personal character from his friend, our Captain, and thereafter I became solid with General Winder as long as I remained in Richmond.
I was frequently tempted to go home; indeed, I had several times come to the conclusion, from my own observation, that there was to be no advance into Maryland, and that I might as well quit and go home; but, again, I really felt as if I must accomplish something first. I had stayed away so long, and had done nothing of importance, that I began to feel that it would be a degradation to crawl back home and have to explain to every person I knew where I had been and why I had been there.
I wanted to go back when I should be made welcome. I confess right here that, since our pleasant acquaintance with the ladies of Richmond had been formed, I was becoming more content to remain longer in exile. The presence, and particularly the bright smiles and winning ways of our "Capitola" was a very great attraction.
I did not go about Richmond as a tramp or a peddler, as is the usual method of spies we read about in novels, but, instead, I personated a high-toned Maryland youth—dressed myself in the grayest of gray uniform, adding all the red trimmings that my rank as Corporal permitted. I rode a good horse, and, in my capacity of Private Secretary or Orderly to our lame Captain, enjoyed unusual facilities. During the daytime I took advantage of all these circumstances, and had my eyes and wits about me, while the night, in the company of our trio, was usually spent "about town," where I met some of the best people, who welcomed us to their houses as Marylanders exiled from our homes. I also encountered among others some of the very worst class of citizens.