resolve, no doubt, that it was the last act of charity of
which he would be guilty during the war. Lieutenant Graham was in
command.

CHAPTER XVI

MARYLAND--MY DAY IN FREDERICK CITY

We were now in Maryland, September 5, 1862. From accounts generally, and
more particularly from the opinions expressed by the Maryland members of
our battery, we were in eager anticipation of seeing the whole
population rise to receive us with open arms, and our depleted ranks
swelled by the younger men, impatient for the opportunity to help to
achieve Southern independence. The prospect of what was in store for us
when we reached Baltimore, as pictured by our boys from that city,
filled our minds with such eager yearnings that our impatience to rush
in could scarcely be restrained. On the evening of our arrival within
the borders of the State, with several companions, I took supper at the
house of a Southern sympathizer, who said much to encourage our faith.

In a day or two we were approaching Frederick City. Strict orders had
been issued against foraging or leaving the ranks, but Steve Dandridge
and I determined to take the bit in our teeth and endeavor to do the
town for one day at all hazards. Knowing the officers and provost-guards
would be on the alert and hard to evade after the town was reached, we
concluded, in order to be safe from their observation, to accomplish
that part of our plan beforehand. A field of corn half a mile from the
city afforded us good cover till well out of sight. Then, by "taking
judicious advantage of the shrubbery," we made our way into a quiet part
of the city, and, after scaling a few picket fences, came out into a
cross-street remote from the line of march. Steve was the fortunate
possessor of a few dollars in greenbacks, my holdings being of a like
sum in Confederate scrip.

As previously mentioned, our extra baggage--and extra meant all save
that worn on our backs--had been left weeks before near the banks of the
Rapidan, so that our apparel was now in sad plight. Dandridge had lost
his little cadet-cap while on a night march, and supplied its place from
the head of a dead Federal at Manassas, his hair still protruding
freely, and burnt as "brown as a pretzel bun." The style of my hat was
on the other extreme. It had been made to order by a substantial hatter
in Lexington, enlisted, and served through the war on one head after
another. It was a tall, drab-colored fur of conical shape, wit