had declared that he entertained the prospect of holding it. Bat his reply was full of embarrassment. While he declared his intention not to surrender the city, he at the same time suggested the fanciful possibility, that even with the loss of Richmond our struggle for independence might be protracted for many years in the mountains of Virginia. In the meantime, the acts of the Confederate officials gave visible and unmistakable signs of their sense of the insecurity of the capital. They added to the public alarm byʼpreparations to remove the archives. They ran off their wives and children into the country. They gave the public every reason to believe that Richmond was to become the prey of the enemy, and the catastrophe was awaited with lively alarm, or dull and melancholy expectation.

In the early weeks of May the capital of the Confederåcy presented many strange and humiliating spectacles. The air was filled with those rumours of treason and disloyalty which seem invariably to grow out of a sense of insecurity. Men who had been loudest in their professions of resistance and self-devotion when the Yankees were at a distance, were now engaged in secreting their property, and a few openly flattered themselves that they had not committed themselves in the war in a way to incur the enemy's resentment. Some of them had their cellars packed with manufactured tobacco. The railroad trains were crowded with refugees. At every extortioner's shop on Main Street, even including the book-stores, an array of packing trunks invited attention, and suggested the necessity of flight from Richmond. At the railroad depots were to be seen piles of baggage, awaiting transportation. But the most abundant and humiliating signs of the panic were to be seen in the number of pine boxes about the departments ticketed “Columbia, South Carolina," and which contained the most valuable of the public archives.

In this condition of the public mind, a new appeal was made to it. When it was ascertained that the Monitor, Galena, and Aristook, were about to head for Richmond, the Legislature of

Virginia passed resolutions calling upon the Confederate authorities to defend it to the last extremity, and to make choice of its destruction rather than that of surrender to the enemy. This resolution was worthy of the noble State of Virginia, and of a people who were the descendants of Washington's cotemporaries, of IIampden's friends, and of King John's Barons. Its terms were too explicit to admit of any doubt in their construction, or any wavering on the part of the Confederate authorities. They expressed the desire that Richrond should be defended to the last extremity, and declared that the President be assured, that whatever destruction or less of property of the State or individuals shall thereby result, will be cheerfully submitted to."

The resolutions of the Legislature were responded to in meetings of citizens. The magical effects of the spirit which they created will long be remembered in Richmond. The Confederate authorities were stimulated by the brave lesson; inert and speculative patriotism was aroused to exertion; mutual inspiration of courage and devotion passed from heart to heart through the community, and with the restoration of public confidence, came at last vigorous preparations. The James was rapidly filled up, the works at Drewry's Bluff were strengthened, and a steady defiance offered to the 'Yankee gunboats, which had appeared within a few miles of the city at a moment when the last gap in our river obstructions was filled up by a scuttled schooner.

On the 15th of May, the fleet of Yankee gunboats in the James opened an attack on our batteries at Drewry's Bluff. The sound of the guns was heard in the streets of Richmond, and various and, uncertain reports of the fortunes of the contest agitated the public. In the midst of the excitement, an extraordinary scene occurred in the city. A meeting of citizens had been called at the City Hall on an accidental occasion, and at the enthusiastic call of the crowd, impromptu addresses were made by the Governor of Virginia and the Mayor of the city. Each of these officials pledged his faith that Richmoud

should never be surrendered.

Gov. Letcher declared, with a peculiar warmth of expression, that if the demand was made upon him, with the alternative to surrender or be shelled, he should reply, "bombard and be d-d." Mayor Mayo was not less determined in the language which he addressed to the. citizens. He told them that even if they were to require him to surrender the Capital of Virginia and of the Confederacy, he would, sooner than comply, resign the mayoralty; and that, despite his age, he still had the nerve and strength to shoulder a musket in defence of the city founded by one of his ancestors. These fervid declarations were responded to by the citizens with wild and ringing shouts. Nor were these the demonstrations of a mob. Among those who so enthusiastically approved the resolution of consigning Richmond to the flames rather than to the possession of the enemy, were some of the most wealthy and respectable citizens of the place, whose stakes of property in the city were large, and whose beautiful homes were exposed to the shot and shell of the malignant foe.

The night brought the news of a signal victory. Our batteries, under the skillful command of Capt. Farrand, had, after a contest of four hours and a half, given a decisive repulse to the gunboats, with the inconsiderable loss of five killed and seven wounded. The accuracy of our fire had astonished the enemy and carried dismay through his fleet. Eighteen shots went through the sides of the Galéna, according to the enemy's own account; and this river, monster lost thirty of her crew in killed and wounded. Seventeen men were killed on another of the boats by the explosion of a gun. The boats had been unable to advance in the face of the accurate and deadly fire of our artillerists, and the next day they had dropped down the stream, quite satisfied of the impracticability of the water approach to Richmond.

Regarding all the circumstances in which this action had taken place, there is no extravagance in saying, that the scale of the war was turned in our favour by even so small an affair

as that of Drewry's Bluff. It exploded the fanciful theories of the enemy's invincibility on the water, and went far to assure the safety of the now closely threatened Capital of the Confederacy.

But there were other causes about this time which conspiredto renew the popular confidence in our arms, and to swell with gratitude and hope the hearts which had so long throbbed. with anxiety in our besieged capital. We shall see how, for some time, at least, the safety of Richmond was trusted, not so much to the fortunes of the forces that immediately pro tected it, as to the splendid diversion of the heroic Jackson in the Valley of Virginia. To this famous expedition publie attention was now turned, in the North as well as in the South, and its almost marvellous results, with marked unanimity, were ́ ascribed to the zeal, heroism and genius of its commander alone.

JACKSON'S CAMPAIGN IN THE VALLEY.

On the change of our military lines in Virginia, and the rapid shifting of the scene of active hostilities from the Potomac, Gen. Jackson had been assigned with a small force to guard the Valley of Virginia, and the approaches in that direction, to the armies of the enemy which enveloped Rich mond.

Our first success was obtained in the upper portion of the Valley. On the morning of the 8th of May, our forces had approached the position of Milroy, the Yankee commander at McDowell. The brigade of General Johnson had secured an advantageous position on a hill, and the enemy, fearful of being surrounded, decided at last, after some signs of hesitation, to deliver battle. The action was not joined until about two hours of sunset. The fact was, that we engaged the enemy with not more than one third of his own numbers, which were about twelve thousand. But the contest was easily decided by the brave froops of Johnson's brigade, composed of Virginia volunteers, with the 12th Georgia regiment. They had stood

for nearly two hours receiving with composed courage the cross fire of the enemy's artillery; and then, as the sun was sinking, they made the charge decisive of the day, and drove the enemy in consternation and utter rout from the field.

Our loss in this action was considerable. Of three hundred and fifty killed and wounded, nearly two thirds were Georgians. The troops of this State on other occasions than this had left monuments of their courage in the mountains of Virginia. The loss of the enemy at McDowell exceeded that of the Confederates, and was conjectured to be double our own.

It was probably at the suggestion of his own judgment, and at the instance of his own military instincts, that Gen. Jackson determined to act on the aggressive, and to essay the extraordinary task of driving the. Yankees from the Valley. In pursuance of this determination, his resolution was quickly taken to make a dash at Fremont's advance, west of Staunton, and then to turn upon Banks with the adventurous purpose of driving him into Maryland.

Gen. Banks, one of the military pets of the more truculent party of the abolitionists, had entered Virginia with the airs of a conqueror. As early as the 24th of April he had telegraphed to his government the story of uninterrupted and triumphant progress; he announced that he had "advanced near Harrisonburg;" and, with a characteristic flourish, he added: "The rebel Jackson has abandoned the Valley of Virginia permanently, and is en route for Gordonsville by the way of the mountains.”

The first intimation the obtuse Yankee General had of his mistake was the astounding news that reached him on the evening of May 2d, that the "rebel Jackson" had descended on the guard at Front Royal, Colonel Kenly, 1st Maryland regiment, commanding, burned the bridges, driven the Federal troops towards Strasburg with great loss, captured a section of artillery, and taken about fourteen hundred prisoners;

in

It was now Banks's turn to betake himself to flight, or, the official circumlocution of that commander, "to enter the