of the very
few men I have known, who, I believe, never felt fear, was to render him
indignant that his embassy should be interrupted, just as he thought
that it was about to be successful, and he came galloping back at full
speed, waving his flag at his own friends, and shouting at the top of
his voice, "don't shoot any more, they'll be all right directly."

The inmates of the stockade at the same time poured out, without regard
to rank, waiving pocket handkerchiefs, portions of their nether garments
hastily torn off, and whatever else, they could lay hold of, that would
serve the purpose. As soon, however, as the howitzers opened, the
skirmishers advanced, in accordance with Hutchinson's previous
instructions, firing also, and their fire drove the enemy back into the
stockade.

Soon, however, all mistakes were rectified and an amicable adjustment of
the difficulty arrived at. The prisoners were immediately paroled, the
bridge thoroughly destroyed, and the detachment returned. It was absent
only a few days. The bridge destroyed was four hundred and fifty feet
long, and forty-six feet high.

Almost immediately after Colonel Hutchinson returned to Lexington, he
was sent with Companies B, C, D, E, L and M to report to General Heath,
who had advanced to within five miles of Covington, and withdrawing,
needed cavalry. The utmost consternation prevailed in Cincinnati during
the time that Heath was in the vicinity of Covington; the city was
placed under martial law, and every citizen was required to report
himself for military duty. So persistent were the detectives in their
search for treason, that all the business houses in the town had to be
shut up, and it became so frequent a matter to construe thoughtless
words into expressions of disloyal sentiment, that it was unsafe to
speak any other language than Dutch. Thousands of respectable citizens,
nightly left their comfortable homes, to cross the river, and shiver and
ache with apprehension and fatigue, in the ditches around Covington.
Many a tradesman torn from his shop, got the manual mixed up with his
accounts, and lost the run of both; and as he sat in a rifle-pit, with
only one pontoon bridge (and that narrow) connecting him with
Cincinnati, he had to console him--the reflection that he was performing
a patriotic, duty, and letting his business go to the devil.

The most telling maneuver against such an army, would have been to send
emissaries to stir up the stree