the conflict, an armament far superior to any with which the Government could furnish its troops.

The work of destruction and preparations for the great conflagration. were prosecuted with unwearied energy, by the light of the moon, until it sank beneath the horizon, about 12 o'clock. The barracks were then set on fire, and the crackling flames, leaping into the sky, illumined the whole. scene with almost the glare of day. Four o'clock in the morning came. The combustibles were all arranged, the trains laid, the matches prepared, to set on fire ships, houses, shops-everything that would burn. The Pawnee, taking the Cumberland in tow, and receiving on board the two ships all the men from the yard, excepting a few to fire the trains, left its moorings, ready to depart, and sent up a rocket. The scene which ensued can not be better described than in the language of an eye-witness:

"The rocket sped high in the air, paused a second, and burst in shivers of many colored lights. And as it did so, the well-set trains at the shiphouses, and on the decks of the fated vessels left behind, went off as if lit simultaneously by the rocket. One of the ship-houses contained the old New York, a ship thirty years on the stocks, and yet unfinished. The other was vacant; but both houses and the old New York burned like tinder. The vessels fired were the Pennsylvania, the Merrimac, the Germantown, the Plymouth, the Raritan, the Columbia, the Dolphin. The old Delaware and Columbus, worn-out and dismantled seventy-fours, were scuttled and sunk at the upper docks on Friday.

"I need not try to picture the scene of the grand conflagration that now burst, like the day of judgment, on the startled citizens of Norfolk, Portsmouth, and all the surrounding country. Any one who has seen a ship burn, and knows how, like a fiery serpent, the flame leaps from pitchy deck to smoking shrouds, and writhes to their very top, around the masts that stand like martyrs doomed, can form some idea of the wonderful display that followed. It was not 30 minutes from the time the trains were fired, till the conflagration roared like a hurricane, and the flames from land and water, swayed and met, and mingled together, and darted high, and fell and leaped up again, and by their very motion showed their sympathy with the crackling, crashing roar of destruction beneath.

"But in all this magnificent scene, the old ship Pennsylvania was the centre-piece. She was a very giant in death as she had been in life. She was a sea of flame, and when the iron had entered her soul,' and her bowels were consuming, then did she spout forth, from every porthole of every deck, torrents, and cataracts of fire, that to the mind of Milton would have represented her a frigate of hell, pouring out unremitting broadsides of infernal fire. Several of her guns were left loaded, but not shotted, and as the fire reached them, they sent out on the startled and morning air minute guns of fearful peal, that added greatly to the alarm that the light of the conflagration had spread through the surrounding country. The Pennsylvania burned like a volcano for five hours and a half, before her mainmast fell. I stood watching the proud but perishing old leviathan, as this emblem of her majesty was about to come down. At precisely 91 o'clock, the tall tree that stood in her centre tottered, and fell,

and crushed deep into her burning sides, while a storm of sparks flooded the sky."

The dispatch to the rebels at Richmond announcing the successful sinking of stone vessels in the channel of Elizabeth River says, exultingly "Thus have we secured for Virginia, three of the best ships in the Navy." They were disappointed; the Pennsylvania was utterly destroyed. The Cumberland escaped. The Merrimac burned to the water's edge, and sunk. She was subsequently raised, and, coated with iron armor, plunged into the Cumberland, and sunk her; and then, like Judas, appropriately committed suicide. Notwithstanding the immense destruction of property by the fire, still millions were left to strengthen the arm of the rebels.

CHAPTER IV.

UPRISING OF THE NORTH.

RIOT IN BALTIMORE. THE ANNAPOLIS ROUTE OPENED.-MARCH OF THE SEVENTH, NEW YORK. -ENTHUSIASM OF THE NORTH.-DESIGNS UPON WASHINGTON.-PROF. MITCHELL.-EXTENT OF TREASON.-ANECDOTES.-ATTEMPTS TO BURN WASHINGTON.-ENERGY OF GENERAL BUTLER.NORTHERN TROOPS.-JACOB THOMPSON.-PATRIOTISM OF GENERAL SCOTT.-EFFICIENCY OF THE PRESIDENT.-MORAL POISON.-NOBLE PRINCIPLES OF THE PRESIDENT.

IN immediate response to the appeal of the President, four hundred Pennsylvania volunteers, escorted by three hundred United States troops, were the first who reached Washington. They went from Carlisle Barracks, and arrived in Washington at 10 o'clock in the night of the 18th, and bivouacked in the Capitol. On the same day, the Sixth Regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers left Boston for Washington. They reached Baltimore, forty miles from the Capitol, on the 19th, and there met a regiment from Philadelphia. Both of these bodies of citizen troops had started so suddenly, that they were quite unprepared for hostilities. The Massachusetts troops were partially armed, but the Pennsylvania men had scarcely a musket. They were expecting to be supplied with arms in Washington. The Massachusetts regiment occupied eleven cars, and reached Baltimore, through New York and Philadelphia, without accident. But here, in the first slaveholding city they entered, they found a large crowd assembled, with menacing looks and words, and hostile demonstrations of a very serious character began to be made.

It was necessary to pass directly through the city, a distance of two and a half miles, in the cars, drawn by horses instead of engines, to the Washington station. In this way, nine out of eleven of the cars passed in safety, though insults and curses pursued them all the way, and not a few stones and brickbats were hurled at them. The excitement rapidly increased, and denser multitudes flooded the streets, until there was a mass of ten thousand men, not all indeed sympathizing with the rioters, who surrounded and arrested the progress of the two last cars, which contained but one hundred men, and many of them unarmed.

A hideous scene of uproar and clamor ensued. There was no police power to stay the tumult. Heavy anchors and other obstructions were thrown upon the track, and the rails torn up. A secession flag was waved defiantly, and the most bitter curses of the Union were blended with huzzas for the Confederacy. Thus far the soldiers had remained quietly in the cars, making no reply, by word or look, to their insulting foes.

Finding further progress by the cars impossible, the soldiers left their seats, and formed into line on the sidewalk. Captain Follensbee then drew them up in solid square, and endeavored, advancing with fixed bayonets, to force his way through the crowded streets, in double quick time, to the station. The mob now fell upon them with the fury of tigers, fearful of losing their prey. Never did Indian warwhoop rise more fierce than the hootings and yellings of these savage men, as from housetops and windows, and behind corners, they assailed with stones, clubs, bricks, and occasionally pistol shots, the almost defenseless band. The officers were humanely reluctant to give the command to fire, since the streets were filled with women and children, and loyal citizens, drawn to the spot by curiosity, and the bullets would strike friends as well as foes. The active rioters probably numbered but a few hundred.*

At length a burly ruffian sprang upon a youthful soldier, wrested his musket from his hands, and discharged its contents into his bosom. The column was thus staggering along, beaten down by this storm, many mangled and bleeding, some so sorely wounded that they were borne in the arms of their friends, when self-preservation rendered it necessary to fire. It was indeed mistaken humanity which delayed so long. And still, when the command was given to fire, it was obeyed, not by deadly volleys, which swept through and through the ranks of the mob, but singly, here and there one, selecting some audacious villain, and being very careful to hit no one else. This course did not disperse the mob. Thus fighting, the soldiers struggled along, pursued and pelted by their foes, until they reached their companions at the Washington station, and entered their cars. It is to be regretted, that then the soldiers did not teach the mob a lesson never to be forgotten. But it was an hour of terrible perplexity, the scene was new, the soldiers were young men, fresh from their homes, who recoiled from the necessity of taking human life; and it was deemed infinitely important, by all the friends of the Union, to avoid every act of exasperation, so far as possible. But history may be searched in vain for another record of such forbearance. The spirit of conciliation but emboldened crime.

Corporal Tyler, one of the soldiers of the Massachusetts Sixth, describing his personal experience in this mob, says, "I saw a man with three stones under his arm, and one in his hand, pelting away at the troops,when I fired at him, and the man dropped the bricks, and laid down."

The Pennsylvania regiment were preparing to follow the Massachusetts troops in eleven cars. They were without arms, and the mob, now having tasted of blood almost with impunity, turned fiercely upon them. Under these circumstances it was not deemed prudent to attempt to cross the city, and these unarmed citizens, who were rushing to the rescue of their national capital, at the call of their country, after very severe handling by the mob, succeeded in escaping, and were conveyed back to Philadelphia. The fact that these men were compelled to embark on such an enterprise, unarmed, shows how effectually Floyd had robbed the Northern arsenals.

The first young man who fell a victim to this rebellion, and sealed his

patriotism with his blood, was Luther Crawford Ladd, a native of Alexandria, New Hampshire, but a resident of Lowell, Mass. He was but seventeen years of age, when, in view of the approaching peril, he joined the City Guards, assigning as a reason for choosing that company, that he thought they would be called into service first. He was so young that his friends urged him not to go. But he replied, "I shall go for the Stars and Stripes any way." Exchanging his tools of peaceful industry for the musket, he started with a brave heart for the Capital. His companion in death was A. O. Whitney. Several others were severely wounded. Seven rioters were killed, and many wounded. The following telegraphic dispatch from Governor Andrew of Massachusetts, to the Mayor of Baltimore, touched a chord which vibrated through the nation:

"I pray you cause the bodies of our soldiers dead in Baltimore to be immediately packed in ice, and tenderly sent forward by Express to me. All expenses will be paid by this commonwealth."

How much there is in a word fitly spoken. Tenderly! It moistened ten thousand eyes. The remains of the honored dead were received with every mark of respect along the route, and were consigned to their burial with signal demonstrations of public grief.

As these heroic men, the Massachusetts Sixth, but partially armed, worn and weary, the advance guard of an army of six hundred thousand, entered Pennsylvania Avenue, they were greeted by the patriots with the most hearty joy. Though but few in number, for the regiment, starting almost at an hour's notice, was by no means full, still they were determined men, ready to face any of the terrors of battle. And they brought the first intelligence to beleaguered Washington, that the North was thoroughly aroused, and that troops, by tens of thousands, were already on the march for the protection of the Stars and Stripes. An anecdote may illustrate the character of some, at least, of the noble Sixth.

As they were passing through Trenton, New Jersey, a person residing there asked one of the soldiers, if he had good whisky in his canteen to stimulate his courage. The soldier drew a Bible from his pocket, and said, "This is my stimulant;"-an answer worthy of a son of the Puritans,—a stimulant which never fails in the hour of trial.

The promptness and energy displayed by Massachusetts, in this crisis, excited the surprise and admiration of the whole country. There was no dissent from the generous eulogy pronounced by the Albany (N. Y.) Evening Journal: "Massachusetts was the first to start a regiment for Washington. Massachusetts' blood was the first shed in the war; a Massachusetts regiment was the first to reënforce Fort Monroe; the first to open a pathway from Annapolis to Washington; the first to reach the Capital, and is the first to invade Virginia. God bless the Commonwealth of Massachusetts."

The question has often been asked, how it happened that Massachusetts was able, with such unprecedented celerity, to dispatch her troops to the Capital. It was owing first, to the almost miraculous prescience of Governor Andrew, and secondly, to the inborn energy of Massachusetts men. On the 16th of January, 1861, an order was issued, through the Adjutant