dations--why, we knew not, unless it were owing to
the fact that Mr. Gouverneur's nephew, James Monroe Heiskell, a mere boy
of sixteen, who ran away from home and swam across the Potomac to join
Mosby's band, possibly accompanied him. Mosby's men in the East and
Morgan's rangers in the West represented a species of ignoble warfare.
In reality they did not benefit the cause which they professed to serve,
but merely molested inoffensive farmers by carrying off their stock and
thus depriving them of their means of livelihood. In recent years I
discussed with a Confederate officer, the late General Beverly
Robertson, Mosby's mode of warfare, and he surprised but gratified me
very much by saying that in his opinion, it was a great injury to the
Southern cause. It seems hardly just that, during President Grant's
administration and later, official positions should have been bestowed
upon Mosby while the interests of other Confederate officers who had
fought a fair and honorable fight and had battled, moreover, for their
country during the Mexican War, should have been neglected.

These war experiences furnished strenuous days for us in our new home
and we lived in a state of constant excitement. I well recall the first
morning it was announced to us by one of the colored servants, while we
were at the breakfast table, that "the rebels were coming," and the
feeling of timidity that nearly overpowered me. Very soon some troops
under the command of General Bradley T. Johnson, a native of Frederick,
marched upon our lawn and encamped all around us. General Johnson
immediately came to our door and, although I was in anything but a
comfortable frame of mind, I summoned all my courage and met him at the
threshold. In a very courtly manner--too much so, in fact, to be
expected in time of war--he remarked, "You are a stranger here, madam."
I responded: "My life here has been short; my name is Gouverneur." He at
once said: "I suppose you are a relative of Mr. Gouverneur of the
Maryland Tract." I admitted the fact although I was not quite sure it
was discreet to do so, as the Union sentiments of my father-in-law were
generally well known, and I was talking to a Confederate General. He and
his officers spent some time with us and we found them exceedingly
friendly, and thus, at least for a time, the terrors of war were
averted. Many years later I met General Johnson in my own drawing-room
when he and his wife came from Baltimore to attend