Against the pathetic and threatening protest of Gov. Hicks and the Mayor of Annapolis, the Eighth landed, and encamped on the grounds of the Naval School.

The changeful mood of the Colonel of the New-York Seventh, which had arrived in the "Boston," ready to join the Massachusetts Eighth, and then frightened from the purpose by reports of rebel plots, embarrassed the movements of the latter.

Gen. Butler took charge of the Annapolis and Elk-Ridge Railway, which opened a sharp correspondence between him and the Governor of Maryland, that gained nothing for the aggrieved Executive.

A letter from Col. S. C. Lawrence, dated at Annapolis, April 24, 1861, contains a merited compliment to the commander: "Gen. B. F. Butler is here in his shirt-sleeves, working like a giant. He holds Annapolis under martial law; but I fear he cannot long retain it. He is eager to show the people here the troops now landing, some six thousand, hoping it will have a tendency to keep them true to us."

At length, the regiment was ready to start for Washington. The train, whose locomotive was secured by forcing the doors of the store-house, and put in running-order by Charles Homans of Company E, formerly a workman in the shop where it was built, April 24, bore the Eighth from Annapolis.

There stood Homans, with his hand on the lever of the engine; on each side of him a soldier, with fixed bayonet; the birds singing in the trees beside the gleaming track; while human eyes flashed with rage because the lips were awed to silence and the hands powerless. Sledge and crowbar were wielded by resolute men under the warm and sultry sun. Bridges and track were rebuilt with a will; but a mile an hour only was the slow rate of advance. In the afternoon, a shower drenched the sweating "boys," and gave them a cool, refreshing atmosphere. In their ranks were more intelligence and culture than ever before were seen in the same number of troops. The sun went down gloriously; and the moon rose above the horizon, making the scene strangely beautiful.

The graceful Winthrop wrote of that march,

O Gottschalk! what a poetic night-march we then began to play with our heels and toes on the railroad-track!

It was full moonlight, and the night inexpressibly sweet and serene. The air was cool, and vivified by the gust and shower of the afternoon. Fresh spring was in every breath. Our fellows had forgotten that this morning they

were hot and disgusted. Every one hugged his rifle as if it were the arm of the girl of his heart, and stepped out gayly for the promenade. Tired or footsore men, or even lazy ones, would mount upon the two freight-cars we were using for artillery-wagons. There were stout arms enough to tow the whole.

It was an original kind of march. I suppose a battery of howitzers never before found itself mounted upon cars, ready to open fire at once, and bang away into the offing with shrapnel, or into the bushes with canister. Our line extended a half-mile along the track. It was beautiful to stand on the bank above a cutting, and watch the files strike from the slradow of a wood into a broad flame of moonlight, every rifle sparkling up, alert, as it came forward; a beautiful sight to see the barrels writing themselves upon the dimness, each a silver flash.

By and by, "Halt!" came, repeated along from the front, company after company. "Halt ! – a rail gone."

From this time on, we were constantly interrupted. Not a half-mile passed without a rail up. Bonnell was always at the front, laying track; and I am proud to say that he accepted me as aide-de-camp. Other fellows, unknown to me in the dark, gave hearty help. The Seventh showed that it could do something else than drill.

At one spot, on a high embankment, over standing water, the rail was gone, — sunk, probably. Here we tried our rails brought from the turn-out : they were too short. We supplemented with a length of plank from our stores. We rolled our cars carefully over. They passed safe; but Homans

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shook his head. He could not venture a locomotive on that frail stuff. So we lost the society of the "J. H. Nicholson." Next day, the Massachusetts commander called for some one to dive in the pool for the lost rail. Plump into the water went a little wiry chap, and grappled the rail. come up," said the brave fellow afterwards to me, one officer out with a twenty-dollar gold-piece, and wanted me to take it. That ain't what I come for,' says I. Take it,' says he, and share with the others.' That ain't what they come for,' says I; but I took a big cold," the diver continued, "and I'm condemned hoarse yit ;" which was the fact.

Farther on, we found a whole length of track torn up on both sides, sleepers and all; and the same thing repeated with alternations of breaks of single rails. Our howitzer-ropes came into play to hoist and haul. We were not going to be stopped.

In a despatch from Gen. Butler, dated at Annapolis, April 26, 1861, is a paragraph which states briefly the work accomplished:

It is now ten days since the Massachusetts troops were first called into the field, and their operations may be summed up thus: Two regiments have reached Fortress Monroe, and put it beyond danger of attack; one, Col. Jones's, marched to the aid of the Federal capital, through Baltimore, and was baptized in blood; another, the Eighth, has rescued the frigate "Constitution," and put her on the side of law and order; has taken possession

of Annapolis and the railroad, building it as they went; and, together with their brethren of the Fifth, has marched to the capital, and thereby opened a communication through which thousands of troops are now passing. The two battalions are now guarding the depot of troops. Are not these sufficient deeds for a campaign of many months?

Sabbath morning, May 4, at two o'clock, the Eighth New-York, the Sixth Massachusetts, and Cook's Battery, were ready to advance towards Baltimore, which, it was decided, should come under the stars and stripes again. Two hours later, the troops were at the Relay House, holding possession of its depot, and looking in every direction for the presence of the enemy.

While here, a private in the Sixth Regiment was poisoned by strychnine, administered in food sold by itinerant venders. He barely escaped death.

The surprise of Baltimore was great, when, in the evening of May 13, the Sixth, and Cook's Battery, with the New-York Eighth, beneath the clouds of a storm whose lightning and thunder were terrific, marched from the cars into the wild gloom of the city, which was among the most successful and romantic achievements of military strategy.

Gen. Butler had intended to accompany the troops to the capital but the arrival of fresh regiments detained him, till an order from Gen. Scott gave him command at Annapolis, which in a few days was enlarged to a department, including the region extending back twenty miles each side of the railroad.

The tender of troops to Gov. Hicks for the suppression of an apprehended insurrection of the negroes seemed to be an excess of fealty to the Constitution, which drew from Gov. Andrew a letter very emphatically objecting to the offer of such assistance in a community hostile to the Government. The commander justified himself on the ground that he was pledged to put down mobs, white and black; and it was not legitimate warfare to let defenceless women and children in Maryland know "the horrors of St. Domingo." He and the army had grave lessons to learn concerning negro character, and the system of despotism under which, with marvellous patience and kindness, an injured race had borne its Shylock exactions.

The line formed to the music, and in the light of the storm. The commander and his staff had reached Federal Hill, rising from the heart of the town, and were looking back upon the cavalcade, whose winding way and bristling steel were revealed distinctly with every flash from the echoing clouds, which poured down

their baptism upon the heroic host, when a blaze, which heralded a crash of stunning severity, bathed for a moment the earth and sky. The pageantry of war never had a finer illumination, nor presented a scene of more thrilling splendor. The ranks of dripping men, the startled horses and their riders, the brazen ordnance, the city itself, all were aglow for an instant, extorting a murmur of admiration from the lips of every beholder.

May 1, Capt. Albert Dodd's Boston company, ordered to join Major Devens's Rifles, was forwarded by the propellor "Cambridge," with sealed instructions, as follows:

To Capt. ALBERT DODD.

ADJUTANT-GENERAL'S OFFICE, BOSTON, May 1, 1861.

Sir, You are to go on board the steam-propeller "Cambridge" this afternoon with your command, and proceed at once to Fortress Monroe, where the troops on board the "Cambridge," belonging to the Third and Fourth Regiments, will be landed to join their respective companies now there.

The "Cambridge" will then depart from Fortress Monroe, and proceed to Washington by the Potomac River. Should the ship be attacked, you will use your utmost exertions to defend and protect her, and endeavor to have her make the passage of the Potomac, and arrive at Washington.

When you arrive at Washington, you will report yourself to Gen. Butler, who is to attach you and your command to the battalion of rifles under command of Major Devens. Your command will be known as Company D of that battalion.

River, men,

Should the "Cambridge" fail to get to Washington by the Potomac though there is no such word as "fail" known to Massachusetts - the ship will proceed to Annapolis, where you will report yourself to Gen. Butler, and if he is not there, to Major Devens, and be attached to his battalion. You are to guard and protect the ship while you are on board of her, and to report yourself so as to be attached to Major Devens's command when you land; always holding yourself subject to superior officers, who are expected and instructed to carry forward the purport of these instructions. It is the earnest desire of his Excellency the Commander-inChief that the ship "Cambridge" shall reach Washington, and demonstrate that a Massachusetts ship, manned with Massachusetts men, shall be the first ship to arrive by that route, as our Sixth Regiment was the first to arrive at Washington through the hostile city of Baltimore. You will confer with the captain of the ship, and you and he will act in unison.

By order of his Excellency JOHN A. ANDREW, Governor and Commander in-Chief.

WILLIAM SCHOULER, Adjutant-General.

CHAPTER IV.

THE MARTYRED DEAD. -MILITARY MOVEMENTS.

Reception of the Baltimore Martyrs in Boston. -Major Devens's Battery at Baltimore. Gov Andrew on the Special Preparation of the State for the War. — Adjutant-Gen. Schouler's Testimony to the Good Conduct of the Early Troops. - The Fifth at Bull Run Gen. Butler's Letter to Gov. Andrew.

N the day of departure of fresh troops, the bodies of the

Oslain in Baltimore, which Gov. Andrew had requested to be

"tenderly forwarded," were brought back in the care of Merrill S. Wright, a private of the Richardson Light Infantry, of Lowell, detailed by Col. Jones for the purpose. From the depot to King's Chapel, escort duty was performed by the Independent Cadets. The Governor, with other State officials and prominent citizens, followed in the long procession which attended the remains. The streets were thronged as when the martyrs kept step to martial music in the ranks which, two weeks before, filled the highway to its curbstones.

There were tearful eyes then and now; but how different, and yet not all unlike, the emotions swelling ten thousand hearts!

April 17, the pulses beat high with patriotism; in the sudden outflow, dimming many eyes; while on other faces were mingled the tears of the fond adieu with those of affection for the old flag. Now all were mourners; but beneath the silence and gloom of that great sorrow, like volcanic fires fitfully gleaming through the darkness of overhanging clouds and night, souls were aflame with the indignant purpose to avenge the martyr-blood of the State and nation, a purpose whose light flashed from the eye of manhood and youth, and was breathed in the prayer that rose to God over those lifeless forms, which spake to the living of treason and liberty as no human voice could make appeal.

The feeling in Boston, and far away on every side around it, is eloquently expressed in connection with the brief biographies of the victims of the secession mob by the Executive of the Commonwealth, in his address at the dedication of their monument: