to his
saddle, and with an artificial leg in the stirrup, as he had lost a
limb a few months before. His death was as patriotic as was his
desperate attempt, for bravely his eager band rode into the
ambush--there was a volley of shots from the thicket by the roadside,
and the young colonel fell from his horse, dead. Some of his men
managed to escape, but most of them were captured."

In Dahlgren's pocket was found an order to all of his men and
officers. To the officers he said:

"We will have a desperate fight, but stand up to it. When it does
come, all will be well. We hope to release the prisoners from Belle
Isle first, and having seen them fairly well started, we will cross
James River into Richmond, destroying the bridges after us, and
exhorting the released prisoners to destroy and burn the hateful city,
and do not allow the rebel leader Davis and his traitorous crew to
escape."

To his guides and runners he said:

"Be prepared with oakum, turpentine, and torpedoes. Destroy
everything that can be used by the rebels. Shoot horses and cattle,
destroy the railroads and the canal, burn the city, leave only the
hospitals, and kill Jeff Davis and his Cabinet."

A dangerous plan indeed! Small wonder that when its details became
known in their diabolical cruelty, the people of Richmond cried out
for revenge, and the hanging of the prisoners; but this was not heeded
by the officials, who had a saner judgment.

The raid had failed! Ulric Dahlgren had lost his life in a daring
attempt to which he was evidently urged by Betty Van Lew and the
so-called Quaker. Bit by bit the reasons for its failure filtered
through to the Spy, chief of which was the treachery of Dahlgren's
guide, by which the forces of the raiders, after separating in two
parts for the attack, lost each other and were never able to unite.
The brave, crippled young commander riding fearlessly on to within
five miles of the city into the ambush, his command falling under the
volley of shots from a hidden enemy--when these details reached Betty
Van Lew her anguish was unbearable, for she had counted on success
instead of failure. And now, there was work to do! Pacing the floor,
she made her plans, and with swift daring carried them out.

Dahlgren was buried on the very spot where he fell; but a few days
later the body was taken to Richmond by order of the Confederate
government, where it lay for some hours at the York River railroad
station. Then, at mi