his former wish to abridge my life in the
South had given way to his fears, and that I was to continue to spend my
winters in Charleston. In after years I learned that Dr. Khayme had not
thought my condition exempt from danger.

So had passed the winters and vacations until the fall of '57, without
recurrence of my trouble. I no longer feared a lapse; my father and the
physicians agreed that my migrations should cease, and I entered
college. I wrote Dr. Khayme a letter, in which I expressed great regret
on account of our separation, but I received no reply.

On Christmas Day of this year, 1857, I was at home. Suddenly, even
without the least premonition or obvious cause, I suffered lapse of
memory. The period affected embraced, with remarkable exactness, all the
time that had elapsed since I had last seen Dr. Khayme.

Early in January my father accompanied me to Charleston. He was induced
to take me there because I was conscious of nothing that had happened
since the last day I spent there, and he was, moreover, very anxious to
meet Dr. Khayme. We learned, on our arrival in Charleston, however, that
the Doctor and his daughter had sailed for Liverpool early in September.
My father and I travelled in the South until November, 1858, when my
memory was completely restored. He then returned to Massachusetts,
leaving me in Carolina, and I did not return to the North until
August, 1860.

* * * * *

The military enthusiasm of the North, aroused by the firing on Sumter,
was contagious; but for a time my father opposed my desire to enter the
army. Beyond the fears which every parent has, he doubted the effect of
military life upon my mental nature. Our family physician, however, was
upon my side, and contended, with what good reason I did not know, that
the active life of war would be a benefit rather than a harm to me; so
my father ceased to oppose, and I enlisted.

WHO GOES THERE?

I

THE ADVANCE

"Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm."--Shakespeare.

In the afternoon we broke camp and marched toward the west. It was July
16, 1861.

The bands were playing "Carry me back to old Virginia."

I was in the Eleventh. Orders had been read, but little could be
understood by men in the ranks. Nothing was clear to me, in these
orders, except two things:--

First, to be surprised would be unpardonable.

Second, to fall back would be unpardonable.

* *