he inn on the night of my arrival, and at that time
the place was thronged with cavalry and artillery-men. Next morning,
when I aroused, not a blue-coat could be seen. They had fallen back in
the darkness, and prudently abstaining from breakfast, I galloped
northward, as if the whole Confederate army was at my heels. These old
turnpike roads were now marked by daily chases and rencontres. A few
Virginians, fleetly mounted, would provoke pursuit from a squad of
Federals, and the latter would be led into ambuscades. A quaint incident
happened in this manner, near Madison.

Captain T. was chasing a party of Confederates one afternoon, when his
company was suddenly fired upon from a wheatfield, parties rising up on
both sides of the road, and discharging carbines through the fence
rails. Three or four men, and as many horses were slain; but the
ambushing body was outnumbered, and several of its members killed. Among
others, a young lieutenant took deliberate aim at Captain T. at the
distance of twelve yards; and, seeing that he had missed, threw up his
carbine to surrender. The Captain had already drawn his revolver, and,
amazed at the murderous purpose, he shot the assassin in the head,
killing him instantly. Nobody blamed Captain T., but he was said to be a
humane person, and the affair preyed so continually upon his mind, that
he committed suicide one night in camp.

At Sperryville I saw and talked with Franz Siegel, the idol of the
German Americans. He had been a lieutenant in his native country, but
subsided, in St. Louis, to the rank of publican, keeping a beer saloon.
When the war commenced, he was appointed to a colonelcy, in deference to
the large German republican population of Missouri. His abilities were
speedily manifested in a series of engagements which redeemed the
Southern border, and he finally fought the terrible battle of Pea Ridge,
Arkansas, which broke the spirit of the Confederates west of the
Mississippi. The man who fought "mit Siegel" in those days, was always
told in St. Louis: "Py tam! you pays not'ing for your lager." Siegel
now commanded one of Pope's corps. He was a diminutive person, but
well-knit, emaciated by his active career, feverish and sanguine of
face, and, as it appeared to me, consuming with energy and ambition. As
a General he was prompt to decide and do, and his manner of dealing with
Confederate property was severer than that of any American. He battered
the splendid mansion hot