As a further evidence of the correctness of my narrative, and with a view of adding interest to the story, I publish herewith a private letter from my brother, Spencer, who was at that time in the Military Telegraph Service. My aunt Ruth, to whom it was addressed, and who was a mother to us both, passed many sleepless nights on account of my wanderings, has recently resurrected some interesting testimonials.
Camp Union, near Bladensburgh, Md., September 9th, 1861. Dear Aunt: By some unaccountable reason your letter was delayed. It was handed me by an "orderly" this evening. I presume it's beyond the possibility of a doubt that poor Joe was killed at Sandy Hook. My grief can better be imagined than described. None but those who have suffered the severing of ties of a loving brother's affection can form an idea of my heart's affliction. My dear sisters, how deeply and sincerely I sympathize with them in the deplorable loss of an ambitious brother. That letter must have almost broken Hatty's heart. It must have been a violent shock to father, but why should I so write and rouse within all of you the bitter renewal of your grief? We have for our support, that brother Joe fell nobly in the cause of his country, lamented by an affectionate and loving family, relatives and friends. It is to be hoped that when the keen sensibilities of our passions begin to subside that these considerations will give us comfort. I pray that the Almighty may give us (particularly father) fortitude to bear this severest of strokes, is the earnest wish of a
Brother in affliction, Spencer.
| Camp Union, near Bladensburgh, Md., | |
| September 9th, 1861. |
CHAPTER X.
AT BEAUREGARD'S HEADQUARTERS—ON DUTY AT MANASSAS.
I didn't report to General Banks that night—circumstances entirely beyond my control prevented me from doing so. I was, by the "fortunes of war," or my own carelessness, denied the privilege of proving to the General that I was "smart" enough to get through his own lines and back again from the enemy's country without the use of passes from his headquarters. If this should reach the eye of General Banks, he will, for the first time, read my official report of the scout, which I had proposed to him in July, 1861, and will, I am sure, in his courteous manner, accept, even at this late date, this apology or explanation for my failure to keep my engagement with him.
Luckily for me, at that particular time I did not have in my possession any passes from General Banks, or letter of introduction from the Secretary of War, endorsing me as a competent spy. These I had left with General Patterson a few days previously.
Leaving the two soldiers to further look after the road, in hope of enticing my friend in—not that they were so anxious for the person of a prisoner—but, as they said, it was important no one should escape to report the fact that a station for observation was being maintained on the heights.