Smith, G. Mellville The Union Spy; or Battle of Malvern Hill* 813.41 S^48 U UNION SPY; OR. IN FIVE ACTS. -BY- O. MELLV1LLE SMITH. [Entered according to an Act of Congress, in the Librarian’s Offic at Washington, 1871.] REPUBLICAN STEAM PRINT TA.TT3SrT03NT. 4 THE UNION SPY ; OR, BATTLE OF JULVHRN HILL. ^farna, IN FIVE ACTS, ■BY 3r. MELLY1LLE SMITH. inteied according to an Act of Congress, in the Librarian’s Office at Washington, 1871.] REPUBLICAN STEAM IPDR-HSIT TAUNTON. CAST OF CHARACTERS, As played in Boston fifteen nights for the benefit of Post 26, G. A. R., where it was greeted with overflowing houses. o XJKriOKT- HENRY WALDRON, -The Spy, - G. MELLVILLE SMITH JOE, .... ... CHARLIE CHRISTIE Tim O’Connor, ........ Peter McCann William Warren, - - H. A. Wrightington Major Anderson, - .Wm. O. Knight Major General Meade, -.W. H. Jones Brigadier General, J.- C. G. Davis Colonel, Staff,.- George Sherlre Major, ).W. 0. Anderson Captain Hall, ..S. N. Richards Colonel Ellsworth,.- D. L. Jones Corporal Brownell, - - - - - - - - J. F. Llynn Judge Waldron,.C. C. Emery Freddie Waldron,. - Master Leonard Sergeant Moore, - -.T. H. Holmes William Tucker, - - - - - - - - D. H. Gill Belle Waldron,. - Miss Lottie Myers Mrs. John Waldron,.Mrs. Brownell Sallie Green, ....... Miss M. A. Randall Union Soldiers, - - - Roxbvky City Guard. C Florence Nightingale Ladies of the Sanitary Commission, - - < Mabel Thornton. C Edith Lawrence. Goddess of War,.Virginia Stickney Goddess of Liberty, ------ Georgie Stickney Tableaux — Angels, Alice L. Chadbovrn, Emma Frye. CONFEDERATES! CAPTAIN ARMSTRONG—Afterward Colonel, J. E. KILLIAN General Longstreet, -.- W. L. Hicks General Garnet, - - - - - - - H.A. Thomas Sergeant Fairfax,.M.F. Shay Corporal Jackson,.- J. K Emmet A. H. Stevens, .C. L. Buxton J. C. Breckenridge,.F. B. Perkins General Hunter,. W. M. Roberts Rebel Sentinel, . ..Fred Bisch Rebel Soldiers, - Sheridan Rifles. SINGING FURNISHED BY .MR. J. B. HOWARD. wn v 5 * 9 1 ^-'4i S (o ^ THE TJISJTON SPY : Or, Battle of JSfalvern Hill. ACT I. Scene 1 .—[Breckenridge, Hunter and Stevens discover¬ ed.—Street Scene.] Stevens. But, sir, the steps we are taking are fraught with danger to the country. Mark my words, a long and bloody war may be the. consequence. Hunter. There is, gentlemen, no alternative : it is the unanimous vote of the Convention ; unless we proceed accordingly it will be a lasting dishonor on the South, and we shall be bullied by these Northern menials more than ever. Stevens. If, through the seceding of the Southern States a war is brought on, who, I ask, is to answer for the lives that must be sacrificed. I have never believed in resorting to such extreme measures for party aggrandize¬ ment ; it is detestable in the sight of heaven. Breckenridge. I do not apprehend anything of the kind. What can the North do? They have no munitions of war ; their arsenals are all empty ; they cannot fight if they are so disposed. Stevens. Believe me, gentlemen, there are men in the North who will not submit to the loss of one single State trom the Union. Mark me, my words are prophetic—the proceedings of that Convention have lit a battle flame that will enshroud our land in a terrible war, and heaven only knows where it may end. Hunter. Then there is only one alternative—To meet ■v 4 our foes on the line drawn by the Charleston Convention, and declare our rights by the bayonet. We have gone too far to retrace a single step without dishonor. Breck. You are right, sir. It is too late ; we have embarked in this scheme, and must follow it to the end. Hunter. Beauregard has already received orders to have the forts to the entrance of the harbor evacuated un¬ less the officers and men see fit to act in behalf of the Con¬ federacy. (takes out watch) But come ; the hour ap¬ pointed for the meeting of the Governor at the State House has arrived. [All exit, L. 1. E. Scene II.—[Discovered. Waldron family and Colonel Armstrong, sitting—Parlor scene.] Judge. I hope what' you say, sir, may never come to pass ; to bring war upon our peaceful and prosperous coun¬ try would be a sad calamity. I tbink the South too wise to be led into such an error by scheming politicians. Col. Armstrong. It would, as you say, sir, be terrible ; but the election of Mr. Lincoln has so exasperated the South that they will not hesitate to do anything to secure their honor. Judge. Why should they dislike Mr. Lincoln? He has the reputation of being a good and honest man. Col. Armstrong. He may be good and honest, but for all that his political ideas are in direct antagonism to the institutions of the South, and he will meet with none but enemies there. Judge. I have every reason to believe that he will govern our'eountry for its welfare, asking the assistance of all loyal men, and demanding obedience to would-be trai¬ tors. (Enter Joe with mail, 2d L. E.) 5 Joe. ■ Here is de mail, massa. Judge. Have my carriage ready at once. Joe. Yes, massa. [Exit L. 2d E. Judge. Now let us see what the news is to-day. Ah ! what is this ! The Convention held at Charleston, Thurs¬ day, has declared the Southern States withdrawn from the Union, choosing for their President Jefferson Davis, of Mississippi. Great excitement in Washington and Balti¬ more. The city of Charleston full of troops. Fort Sumter fired upon. The whole South in arms. Oh, this is terri¬ ble, terrible! Henry Waldron. Captain, if these reports prove true there will be warm work for you gentlemen that wear the uniform. Perhaps I can be of some service to my country in this, her struggle for freedom. Can you get me a chance in your regiment, captain? Col. Armstrong. When that hour shall arrive, Henry, it will find me in the Southern army. If you wish to ac¬ company me there, I will do all in my power to get you a commission. Henry , What! You would not shrink from duty in this our country’s need. You would not raise your arm against the government you have sworn to protect! Col. Armstrong. The South is my home. I was born there ; I was taught to love and respect all her institutions ; her principles are mine, and I shall fight for her cause. Henry. I am surprised to hear you speak thus, for during the many years of our acquaintance I have ever, un¬ til now, found you true and steadfast for the right. I am indeed truly pained to hear you, while wearing the uniform of an American officer, speak treason. 6 Col. Armstrong. They are my sentiments. I shall ■art upon them. Henry. Then, sir, you are no longer a friend of mine, for had my own brother done as you have sworn to do, I would cast him from my love and esteem, though it broke my heart in so doing. Henceforth, Sir, we are strangers ; for I will call no man a friend who could so basely betray his country, and his own honor. Col. Armstrong. And this, then, is your Northern hospitality! Judge. I pray thee, let this subject pass. Old friends should not fall out at parting. Col. Armstrong. This is your pretended friendship for me ; because my sympathies, like your own, cling to my na¬ tive home, you denounce me as a traitor. So be it. You fight for your flag, and I’ll fight ' for mine. But we shall meet again. [Enter Belle, R. 2d E. Belle. Why, Henry, what has happened? What is the meaning of all this loud talk ? Henry. It means, my dear wife, that that man whom we have ever welcomed to this, our home, who has shared our joys and sorrows, is a traitor to his country, and now, while our land is under a cloud, he has declared his inten¬ tion of joining the Southern cause, and I have therefore told him we can no longer be friends. Belle. Henry, you have done right. I am proud to find that you let not friendship stand between you and duty. Mr. Armstrong, painful as it is to sever the ties which have existed between us for so long, yet I must join with my husband in denouncing your course, for we love our country too well .to have any friendship for traitors. Col. Armstrong. Mr. Waldron, you have basely in¬ sulted me sir, but my time will come ; I will yet be reveng¬ ed. Good day, my friends. [Exit L. 2d E. Belle. I need not ask what you will do, for I know you will go and fight in defence of your country ; but I fear that man ; you heard his threats, and he will do his utmost to fulfill them. Henry. Yes, my country needs me, and I must go. But do not fear, for the threat of that one man vanishes when we think of the one made by the entire South against our national honor. We will think of him as he deserves, and place our trust there. (Curtain falls—wood scene.) Scene III.—[Wood scene. Enter Garnet R. 1st E., Armstrong L. 1st E.] Garnet. Do you think Anderson can hold out much longer? There was some sharp firing against the walls of Sumter to-day. Armstrong. I saw, sir, from the heights overlooking the fort that some of their guns have been dismounted, and a portion of the walls in ruins. Garnet. You go immediately with a flag of truce and demand the unconditional surrender of the fort, but if they see fit to fight it out, bring your heaviest guns to bear upon the weakest portion of the walls ; I think that will bring them to terms. Upon your return report to me. . [Both exit, R. 1 E. Scene IV.—[Fort scene. . Anderson discovered in fort with spy glass. Anderson. I pray heaven that before daylight I may have assistance. I can hold out but a few hours longer. 8 My guns are nearly all dismounted, and the walls them¬ selves, are nearly in ruins. What can 1 do if they do not send me aid. (Enter Sergeant Moore, R. 2dE.) Sergt. Moore. Major, there is a boat approaching from the shore with a flag of truce. Anderson. Let them land, and conduct the officer in charge to me. (Exit Moore, R. 2d E.) Perhaps they regret the rash steps they have taken, or it may be they have come to demand the surrender of the fort; but not while there is life enough in me, and powder enough in my magazine to deny their right to demand it, shall that flag be lowered from its proud position. (Enter Armstrong and Moore R. 2d E. Moore salutes and retires R. 2d E.) Armstrong. Are you, sir, the commander of this fort? Anderson. I have that honor, sir. Armstrong. I am commanded by Gen. Garnet to offer you terms of surrender to the Confederate Government. Anderson. Tell your commander I was placed here by the U. S. Government to command this fort, and that is the only authority I shall recognize while I hold any posi¬ tion under it. I shall hold this fort so long as one stone re¬ mains in place upon another. Armstrong. But, sir, ’tis useless; you struggle in vain. At daylight we shall bring our heaviest guns to bear upon the weakest portion of the walls, and ere the sun shall mark the hour of noon naught will remain but a pile of blackened ruins. You have no right, sir, to sacrifice brave men in so helpless a position. Anderson. You are right, sir ; I have no right to sac¬ rifice them, but my orders are to hold the fort. I never yet have disobeyed an order, but for humanity’s sake I may be 9 •r compelled to surrender. This much I will do—1 will con¬ sult my men, and he guided by them. Should we conclude to surrender, I will fire a signal of‘ two guns. (Armstrong exits R. 2d E.) Alas! and has it come to this? Am 1 to lower that flag in dishonor? But humanity to my men compels me. This is, indeed, a terrible ordeal—to decide between duty to my country, and humanity to my men. This rendering tip of precious lives in this unequal contest is entirely useless. Sergeant, (Enter Sergt. Moore, R. 2d E.) yon will muster the men here immediately. (Sergt. exits same as entered) May heaven direct me right. (En¬ ters Sergt., with soldiers, R. 3d E.) Soldiers, a flag of truce has just left here, from the enemy, demanding the surrender of the fort. What shall we do? Lower the old flag, -or make these blackened walls our funeral pile ? Moore. We will do as you command. Anderson. To defy the enemy is certain death, and 1 do not think our government would require us to sacrifice our lives in so helpless a cause. Let the sigual be given. (Drum struck twice) Let the flag be lowered. (Business) And the day shall yet come when we shall raise it again o\ - er these walls without a single stain upon its folds. [Tableaux—Death of Liberty. Close with front drop— very slow.] ACT II. Scene I. [Street. Enter Tim, 1st R. E.] Tim. Well, here lam, looking for a situation. Sure 1 heard there was a bit of a row kicking up over here, so 1 thought I’d come over to see if I could n’t get my beautiful "shillelah into it, for what better employment could a re¬ spectable Irishman get into than twirling his stick against 10 the heads of those who deserve it? Begorra, I am lot the one to hold hack when I’m wanted for a bit of a scrimmage. Where will I find the boss, I don’t know, to set me at it? I’ll go down this way, and see if I can’t find a recruiting office; sure they must want lots of just such as me, and, begorra, they will get them, too. (introduces s ong) [Exit, L. 1st E. Scene II. [Interior. Capt. Hall discovered at a table, writing. Enter Henry, L. 1st E.] Henry. Good morning, Capt. Hall, is your regiment full? Hall. Not if you want to enlist, Henry. Henry. I have made up my mind to give my services to my country, so 1 will put my name do mi. Hall. All right, Henry, you are just the man I want. Henry. Thank you, Captain. Any service that I can be to you or my country, I am only too willing to give it. When does your regiment go to the front ? Hall. We are expecting orders every hour, so hold yourself in readiness to march at any moment. Henry. I shall be ready at any time. [Enter Freddie Waldron, L. 2d E. Freddie. Say, Henry, I want to enlist. Henry. You enlist? You are too young. What can you do? Freddie. I can drum, can’t I? Henry. Oh, perhaps you can drum a little. Freddie. Say, Captain, don’t you want a drummer ? Hall. Yes, Freddie, I want a drummer ; but I fear your mother would hardly part with you. Freddie. But I must go at any rate. Henry, Well, Freddie, if you must go, we will go up 11 to the house, and see what mother says about it. Captain, I will report for duty iu an hour, and in the meantime if mother consents to let Freddie go, I will bring him along. Hall. All right, Henry. [Henry and Freddie exit, L. IstE. [Enter Tim, 1st R. E., singing. Tim. Is the recruiting officer in, I dunno? Hall. lam the recruiting officer. What do you want? Tim. Do you want to hire any good, steady men for the army ? Hall. Our regiment is nearly full; do you want to enlist? Tim. How much do you pay a month, Captain? Hall. Eleven dollars. Tim. And how about the eating and drinkiug? Hall. The men’s rations are found. Tim. Found ! And where do you find them, sura? Hull. They are furnished by the government. Tim. Why in blue blazes did n’t you say so before? How often do you pay, Captain? Hall. It is customary to pay every two months in the army. Tim. All right, Captain, I’ll go wid you ; so just put me name down, and I’ll make me cross. Hall. But, look here, what is your name ? Tim. Me name is it? Every body iu the house knows I’m Tim O’Conner, County Cavan. I am a mason’s tender by education, but I always thought I was better qualified to be a soldier, for you know an Irishman is al¬ ways ready to twirl his stick around the heads of those who deserve it. Hall. You go up to the barracks and find the Colonel, and he will swear you in. 12 Tim. Swear me? No, sir, he won’t. I never swore in me life at all, and I don’t think I’ll begin now., BaU. I have reference to your taking the oath of al¬ legiance. The Colonel will take your name and assign you to such company as he sees fit. Tim. Why in the name of John Rogers did n’t you say so? What, have you been all this time getting that little bit through you? I could have said it in half the time. Well, I’ll go and shake the fist of Biddy good-bye, and leave her me blessing, and an order for me eleven dol- iars a month, and then I will be wid ye. [Exit Tim, 2d L. E. [Enter recruits for drill, 3d L. E. (Business.) Win. Warren. Well, Captain, how do you think they drill. Hall. They do very well; you can take them up to the barracks, and see that every man has everything in shape for parade to-night. Warren Yes. [Recruits exit, L. 3d E. Hall. Here, you black rascal, you. [Enter Joe, 2d L. E. Joe. Yes, massa Captain, here I is. Hall. You take these papers up to headquarters, and see that everything is snugly packed, for we shall have to inarch soon. [Exit Hall, L. 2d E. Joe. Yes, uow r the devil’s to pay for sure ; somebody’s gwine to get hurt. I’se goin’ down South to let them know (hat they can’t have their way any longer ; had it loug enough. I told ’em I was coming down to pay ’em all 1 owed ’em, and now' I’se goin’. Golly, I feel just as good as though T was a white man. (Jig.) 13 Scene III. [Enter Win. Warren, R. 1st E.—Street scene.] Warren. Well, I have reasons to feel proud of my¬ self. I’ve only been in this show a couple of days, and got promoted to a corporal. I suppose that’s because I am so well posted in the manual of arms.- When I was a boy, ■iiul went to school, we used to have a company, and I was captain of them ; should n’t wonder if I was captain again, before I got home. I wonder what on airtli has be¬ come of Sally Green. I expect there will be some tarna¬ tion tall talk when she finds out I have enlisted, for she sets an awful sight by me. I guess I’ll go and find her, and tell her I’m a goin’; she’ll like me all the better when 1 get back. Then we’ll get hitched, and settle down, taking care of the little Warrens. [Exit, \j. 1st E. Scene IV. [Parlor scene. Waldron family discovered in parlor.] Belle. Oh, Henry, it seems as if we were parting for ever. That man’s threat haunts me now ; I fear him, and l pray heaven that you may never meet. Henry. For your sake, my dear wife, I hope we new ¬ er may ; but should chance throw us together I will try and rid my country of one of her basest enemies. But look not on the dark side of the picture, but upon the bright. — Turn your attention to the wants of those who leave their homes to-day, in the defence of their country, for there will be work enough for you all to do ; there will be the sick and the wounded to be cared for, and this duty in a great meas¬ ure we leave to the women of our land, well knowing how faithfully it will be performed. So cheer up, and remember you duties. Mrs. Waldron. Henry, into your charge 1 place my 14 darling boy. Watch over him. and guard him from dan¬ ger and evil. If harm should come to him it would break my heart. Henry. Mother, 1 will guard him faithfully from all evil temptations ; but wherever his duty calls him even tho' it leads to danger, there must he ever be found; and now, your blessing. Good-bye, father, you will come down and ’ see the regiment off. Good-bye, mother : good-bve. good¬ bye, Belle. Freddie. Good-bye, father ; good-bye, mother. [Exit Henry and Freddie, L. 2d E. Scene V. [Street. Enter Sally Green, R. 1st E.] Sally. Goodness, grucious me ! What on airth is this here world a coming to ? I never had any faith in that Southern critter that came down here to visit the Waldrons. I always told ’em they’d have a rumpus, and now they’ve got it. I hear there is to be a war between the North and the South He is going to join the South, and Henry and Freddie Waldron have enlisted on the other side ; and there is that tarnal Wm. Warren, he is going off to get shot. Oh, these men. they aint to be trusted. He has been promis¬ ing and promising to marry me, for the last ten years, and now he has gone off. and that will be the last I shall ever see of him. Here I have been knitting mittens and mak¬ ing clothes for him ever since he was knee-high to a grass¬ hopper. and this is the way I get my pay for it. I’ll uever place my affections on another male critter the longest day of my natural existence, never. [Exit left 1st E. Scene VI. [Landscape. Villages discovered. Enter ('apt. Hall and company.] Belle. Soldiers, in behalf of vour friends, I present you with this flag, (Business,) knowing that you will guard its honor faithfully, and when you see its bright folds waving above the smoke and din of battle, may it make strong your hearts for the conflict. Hoping you may all safely return to the dear ones you part with to-day, with the bright rainbow’ of peace shining o’er our land. I now’ bid y T ou God-speed. 15 Hall. Ladies, we accept tliis flag as a sacred memeu- to, from the fair hands that have presented it. We pledge ,ou to guard it with our lives, and when we look upon its sacred folds waving in the sunlight of heaven, it will make strong our hearts for the conflict. We pledge you that no hlot of shame shall tarnish its purity, while the strong arms of those to whose keeping you have given it, while they have life to guard it. And should we survive to bear it back to our native hills again, its folds may be tattered and war-worn, like ourselves, but it shall be as pure and unsul¬ lied as when you presented it to us. Color bearer, advance ; (business) about face, to your post, march. [Exit soldiers, dd L. E. Scene VII. [Street scene. Enter Tim", 1st R. E.] Tim. Oh mushey ! Now, by the powers of mud, and that’s a dirty oath, what will I do? Faith, them sogers have gone off and forgot to take me wid ’em. I suppose they thought I was n’t of enough account to bother wid, but I guess they’ll find out their mistake some of these fine days. I suppose they will shoot me now for a deserter when they get me. Oh, bad luck to the day that ever I went for a soger. [Introduces song, and exits, 1st L. E. [Enters Ellsworth 1st R. E., Brownell 1st L. E.j Brownell. Here is an order Gen. Slough wishes you to have immediatly executed. Ellsworth. I will do so at once ; follow me. • [Both exit L. 1st E. Scene VIII. [Chamber scene. Ellsworth discovered in chamber.] Ellsworth. Lay there vile rag. (Business.) [Close with wood scene. Scene IX. [Wood scene. Enter Lougstreet, 1 It. E., Armstrong, 1st L. E.] Armstrong. I have just received information from one of our scouts that has been in Washington, that there are 16 very few troops there, and the city is badly fortified. Longstrect. If it was possible to make a flank move¬ ment to the west as far as Harper’s Ferry, then through Pennsylvania, and by forced marches fall upon Washington before they could get reinforcements, the Capitol of the North would be ours. What think you of the plan ? Armstrong. I think it an excellent idea, sir. Longstreet. Now, then, you send a courier with the utmost despatch to Johnson’s headquarters, telling him to meet me to-morrow at noon, at Culpepper, and I will at once communicate with Hardee, who will send me a rein¬ forcement of cavalry to meet our advance twelve miles west of Winchester. See to it that these orders tire promptly executed. Armstrong. I will do so. (Exit Longstreet, L. 1st E.) At last we have the best of these Northern Yankees. 1 wonder if Henry Waldron is at the front. I would like to get him once into my power. I wonld make him pay dearly for the insult he has given me before his wife. Hallo, who have wc here? (Enter Joe, 1st R. E.). Joe. as J live! Hallo. Joe ! Joe. T golh ? , massa Armstrong, is that you? Just as soon thought of seeing my ghost as seeing you. Armstrong. Well, Joe, what are you doing of down here? I thought I left you up North. Joe. Yes, so you did, but I did n’t stay there, though. Jes’ thought I would come down South and see if I couldn’t find old massa. Armstrong. That is right. How are all the Waldrons Joe ? • Joe. Oh, they is pretty well the last time I seen ’em. Armstrong. Where is Henry? In the Northern army. I suppose. 17 Joe. Yes. I believe he has ’listed. Armstnong. Say, Joe, tell me the number of his regi¬ ment. Joe. Golly, massa Armstrong, Ise forgotten it; bnt let me see ’tis the 999th Pennsyltucky. Armstroriq. Well, Joe, our camp is right down here, just across the run ; come down and see me some day. [Exit 1st R. E. Joe. Yes, I guess when you get this child down there you’ll catch a white blackbird. Golly, didn’t 1 pull the wool over that fellow’s eyes. He believed every word J told him ; but 1 guess I hadn’t better be fooling away my time here any longer, some of them rebs might be laying violent hands on me, then I should be gobbled up. [Exit L. 1st E. Scene X. [Parlor scene. Ellsworth lying in state, dark stage. Tableaux—The immortal crown. Close with front drop—very slow.] ACT III. Scene I. [Landscape. Midnight camp discovered, dark stage.] Henry. Poor fellows ! how ^ soundly they sleep, after their long, weary march. Who can tell which of us here, now full of life and hope, will, ere another day, be sleeping his long, last sleep. Poor Freddie, he was so tired when we arrived here. lie is too small and too young for this rough life. I had a letter from my mother, to-day, in which she says—take good care of my baby boy, Henry. He must miss his mother’s care. He does, mother, miss your care, for who can fill a mother’s place in her care for a child. I will answer her letter now, for who can tell when another opportunity may be given me. Dear mother. V IS we arrived here, to-day, after a hard march of twenty-five miles. Freddie and myself are well, and in the best of spirits, but that you may be prepared for anything that may happen to Freddie or me, I must tell yon that to-morrow we fight a big battle, unless Lee retreats. His army lies directly in our front. Should anything happen to Freddie or me, will let you know at once. I cannot write any more co-night, for I must rest, so that I may be prepared for the work to-morrow. Give our love to father and Belle ; will write her soon. Yours, always, Henry. There, that is finished ; now 1 will join my comrades in the land of dreams, and may a merciful providence guard us and watch over us, and whatever may be our fate on the morrow, teach us, with all thankfulness of heart, to say Thy will and not ours be done. (Singing Dreaming of Home— Tableaux—Soldier’s Vision.) [Enter Sergeant Mooar, L. running. Mooctr. We are surprised ; the pickets are driven in. [Exit L. (Battle.—Tableaux—Victory. Close with wood.) Scene II. [Wood. Enter Joe 1st R. E.] Joe. I’ve been looking all over this place for massa Waldron ; Can’t find him nowhar. That fellow is more trouble to me than if he was my own bruddcr. Who, who, who comes there? [Enter Wm. Warren R. 1st E. Warren. Hallo, Joe, is that you? I heard the guns a firing down here, and I tried to hurry up, but my legs went back on me. I was down here about two miles, and tried to get here, but I could n’t. Say, Joe, is there any¬ body hurt? 19 Joe. Hurt! More than four hundred millions killed. Bring ’em in by the cart-load every minute. Warre.n Just my darned luck ! Just as sure as I go hunting something for invalids, they up and have a light. I’ll be horn swaggled if ever I’ll go hunting turkeys again as long as I’m in the army ! Here Joe, you take these to camp and cook them. Here, don’t yon want a drink of ap¬ ple jack ? Joe. Come, massa Warren, let’s go up to camp, and see how all the boys are. * [Joe exit L. 1st E. [Enter Sally Green, R. 1st E. Warren drinking out of his canteen.] Sally. Why, Win. Warren, is that you in the name of my favorite author, Shakespeare,—is that you I see be¬ fore me? Warren. Gosh all hemlock ! Sally Green, what are vou doing down here, amongst this strife and carnage? Sally. Why, I’m in the hospital. I came down to soothe the wounded and the weary. But I have had awful dreams about you. I thought you must be either sick or killed. Warren. No, I aint sick or killed, either, but I have had some narrow escapes from both—just my darned luck. Sally. Let’s go up to camp, and see if we can find the Waldrons, and see if the rest of the boys are safe. Oh. dear ! I’m all of a flutter. Warren. Just your darned luck ! [Both exit L. 1st E. Scene III. [Landscape. Night after the battle. dark stage. Sisters of Charity on the battle field. Scene IV, [Wood. Enter Major General and staff, L. 1st E.] 20 Maj. Gen. yieade. General, you see by this map that the nearest way is by the town of Martinsburg. The pick¬ ets tell me that there are none of the enemy there. We will - have the Fifth corps proceed by this route, and you may order the march immediately. (Exit Gen’l.) Col., let your cavalry reinforce Gen. Dahlgren. (Exit Col.) Major, let the picket be doubled on the pike south of Hagarstown : should you see any sign ot the enemy, report to me at once. (Exit Major.) Capt. Hall, I want a man of nerve and brain to enter the lines of the enemy, ascertain the num¬ ber of their reinforcements, and such other information as svill be of service to us. Hall. I know of but one man that I can recommend ; He is a sergeant in my company, by the name of Waldron. He is brave, and one that would undertake such a mission with success, I should think. Meade. Send him to me immediately. (Exit Hall) Now if I can rind the right man to send on this mission, the information he would bring back wonld, I am satisfied, in a great measure, save the useless exposure of 40.000 lives. [Enter Henry, Henry. My captain informs me that you wish to see me, General. Meade. Your name, and to what regiment do you be¬ long? Henry. Henry Waldron. Sergt. Co. A.. 19th Maim- cegiment. Meade. Sergeant, 1 have a dangerous mission that some one must go upon—that of a spy—and your captain has recommended you. Are you willing to undertake such a hazardous duty ? Henry. I am at the disposal of my country, and will 21 try and do my duty in whatever position is assigned me; 1 will go, and do my best. Meade. These are your instructions :—You are to en¬ ter the lines of the enemy, ascertain the number of their re¬ inforcements, and such other information as may be valua¬ ble to us. You are to leave the lines to-night, and it must be given out that you have deserted, in order to secure the success of your mission, and on your return report to me ; and should you succeed you shall have a commission. The Quartermaster will furnish you with such articles as you may need. Henry. General, I have a request to make. I enter¬ ed the service for the good of my country. I have never yet disobeyed an order from any officer, and 1 would not have my name go down to posterity, branded as a deserter, [f anything should happen to prevent my return, will you tell my regiment the true history of this mission ? Meade. It shall by special order be read to the entire division to which your regiment belongs. Henry. Thank you, General, I am satisfied. When shall I depart? Meade. As soon as night sets in. Mere is the coun¬ tersign that will take you though the picket lines of our ar¬ ray. Henry. I will leave at once. [Both exit same as enteriug. [Enter Tim with two prisoners.] Tim Get along with ye! Halt, front! .lust stand right there where I put ye ’till I have a bit of a smoke. Have you got a match about ye? Give it to me, and don’t be all day about it, either. Now mind, don’t you try to get away, if you do I’ll punch daylight right through ye. (Sits down and eats) Don’t you want a bite? No you 22 don’t; not if I know myself. You are a pretty looking bird, you are, aint ye? Have they got any more down there like ye? Ye belong to the Southern ehivalry. do ye? Faith. I should think ye belonged to the ragmuffins. Do you know what I’m going to do with ye? I’m going to take ye down to the old Capital, and make ye take the iron¬ clad oath, and theu ye’ll be white-washed Yankees. Have ye got any money about ye? (Business) What is the use tor me to be hunting for money on the likes of you, for ye never had ten cents in your life, unless it was in Confeder¬ ate scrip. I guess we had better be getting out of this, for fear some of your friends might come along. Now don’t you try to come any of your Ephraims on me, for if you do ye’ll get my Irish up, and then I wouldn’t give three cents for your lives. Out wid ye, ve dirty blackguards, ye ! [All exit 1st L. E. Scene V. [Landscape. Confederate camp discovered.] Armstrong. I cannot write to-night, for my heart is so sad. For when I look around me and see Qur thin ranks, it seems as if our cause was almost hopeless. It was only yesterday 1 heard of my mother’s death. She died far away in that Southern home, with none of that once happy family to soothe her dying pillow : and my father and two brothers have sacrified their lives, and if my country should call upon me to do the same, I would do it willingly. I may be a traitor to my country, and I may be a traitor to my God. but to the mother in heaven that bore me, oh, how can I be a traitor to her? It was she who first taught my infant lips to say—the Sonth is your home, and ■ should she ever call upon you to defend her rights, defend them with your life—and even now I seem to see her smiling down upon me, saying—You are right; go forth to your duty, and your reward shall be a crown of glory. 23 [Enter Henry it. 2d E. Henry. Good morning, Colonel ; want to buy some apples, only a cent apiece? Armstrong. No, I don’t want any. Henry. You don’t mind if I.sell the boys some, do you Colonel ? Armstrong. No, sell them all you can ; but see here, have you seen any Yanks around here lately? Henry. Yes, I saw some a few days ago, scouting tround here ; they tried to pump me, and find out how many guns we had in the fort up on the hill. But that wan’t no go—that sprihg was dry. J have found out all about them, though; you see they have got about 40- 000 men down here, trying to get through one of the gaps, so as to get into Fredericksburg. I reckon they don’t know our boys is so near ’em, do you Colonel? Armstrong. Well, if that is their route we shan’t trouble them at present, for we have got here 100,000 men, and Lee has twice that number, and Moseby is endeavoring to get to the rear of these Yanks ; so you see that 40,000 will get taken care of as soon as they get to the gap. for Lee intends marching on Washington, and the Capital of the North will be ours. Henry. I am right glad you told me, Colonel, as 1 was getting kinder scared. I did n’t know but they might be coming down here, and gobble us all up some night. You see I lives alone, right down here by the crick : reckon I’ll be going down a doing up the chores, getting to be late. Now to get this information to Gen. Meade ; I cannot go myself, for there is more work for me to do here, yet I know no other way but for me to go, for they must be warned, or they are lost. Ah ! James Armstrong, you lit- 24 tie know to whose keeping you have confided the secrets of your movements ! Armstrong. What are you muttering to yourself about? Henry. Oh, nothing; I was only reckoning up how much I had made to-day, and I find I have done a pretty good day’s work. Good day, Col. [Exit R. Sergt. Fairfax. See here, Col., that man is not what he pretends to be. He don’t stay around here selling ap¬ ples for a living. Did you notice how he said he had done a pretty good day’s work? Armstrong. See here, fellow. I want to speak to vou a moment. [Enter Henrv R. Henry. Changed your mind? I thought you would buy some apples. Armstrong. It seems to me that I have seen that face before. (Business) Henry Waldron ! This is a pretty guise to be in, that of a spy. Wlmt are you doing here? Henry. My duty. Armstrong. Yes, that of a spy. Well, 1 could expect nothing better from one who would so basely insult his friends. These papers are of much importance to- the Northern army, but I will see that they never get there. They, sir, are your death warrant. You will be tried by a drum-head court martial, and shot at daylight to-morrow. [Enter Joe, R. 2d E. Henry , Do not recognize me, for your life. Armstrong. Sergt., take those papers to headquarters, and report the capture of the prisoner. Henry. Joe, follow that man, and secure those papers if you have to kill him ; the lives of 40,000 men will bo sacrificed if you don’t succeed. [Exit Joe R. 2d R. Armstrong. I think now that your proud wife that spurned me from her home would kneel at my feet and beg for the life of her husband, but I will send the news to your home. I will tell them that your life was in my keep¬ ing, and I could have saved it, but duty compelled me to the sacrifice; then I will picture to them how like a cow¬ ard you died. IIow with pale cheeks and trembling limbs you begged for your life. I)o you know that I have hoped for this hour, aye., prayed for it, when I should meet you face to face as I meet you now. As true as 1 stand here I would give one-half the life in store for me for this hour of revenge. Henry. James Armstrong, when I placed my name on that sacred roll and swore to protect the flag you would tram¬ ple beneath your feet. 1 gave my life to the disposal of my .country and placed my trust in God. Standing here as I do now, with the sentence upon your lips that may decide my fate, I do not tremble at your threats. I do not ask with pale lips and trembling limbs for you to spare my life. My country- needed my services here and I came willingly, well knowing the danger of the mission. Should your sentence be fulfilled I shall die with the consciousness of having done my duty. I do not fear you, but despise and pity you. Do your worst. Shoot me ; hang me ; torture me in any manner that your fiendish nature may devise, and when the time does come you shall see how a loyal soldier can die fighting fora cause that is sacred to him. Armstrong . Sentinel, remove the prisoner to the guard house. I shall hold you responsible for his safe keeping. — (close with wood.) •26 Scene VI. [Wood scene. Enter Joe, 1. R.E. running.]] Joe. Golly, if that fellow’s head ain’t harder than a nig¬ gers. I guess I hurt him some. Oh dear, poor massa Henry ! I guess lie’s gone for sure this time. He has been down here in the secesh lines for over six months spying for our side. They got him two or three times before, but he got away somehow. But 1 guess they got him one too many times, for sure. If 1 could only get some of these nigs to go down and help me get massa Henry out! No, dat won’t do. I must go and carry dese papers to the head General. No, dat won’t do. I will never leave massa Hen¬ ry here to die, nohow. I will have him out of that prison if I have to kill three or four secesh to do it. Who, who. comes there? [Enter Warren 1st Ii. E. Warren. Hulloa, Joe, is that you? Joe. My golly, massa Warren, Ise gladder to see you than as though I had ten dollars. Warren. Say, Joe, do you know anything about where, we are? Joe. Yes, massa Warren, wese down among the Rebs, right in the secesh lines. Warren. Gosh all hemlock, is that so. Just our darned luck. Joe. Say, massa Warren, do you know the Rebs have got massa Henry, and are going to shoot him for a spy ! Warren. Good enough for him, he had never no business to go and desert. Joe. If you think he deserted, you just readdem papers. Dem’s what they took away from him when they took him. Warrm. Well, I’ll be horn swaggled if them aint plans of the rebels’ forts. Say, Joe, did they find these all on 27 him when they took him? Then he’s a gone goose, that’s sartin. Joe. That’s just the conclusion I come to, massa Warren. Warren. Joe, do you know the kintry ’round here? Joe. Guess I do. 1 wasn’t brought up ’round here for nothing. Do you see that little hut up there on the hill?— There is an old nig that lives up there all alone by himself. VVe can go up there and stay till after dark, then come down round by the bridge where I ’spects they’ve got massa Henry confined. They’ll have only one guard on there at a time. We’ll just take and slip his wind and get massa Ilenry out. What do you say? Warren. Well, I don’t know, Joe. It’s pretty ticklish business ; ’twould be kinder cowardly I suppose to go off and not try to get him out. Say, Joe, s’pose I get a bullet in my old hide ! Joe. ’Twont hurt only just a minute, massa Warren.— Come, let’s go and get massa II enry out. [Both exit L. 1st E. Scene VII. [Landscape. Enter Joe and Warren L. 3d E. Dark stage.] Warren. Hit him? Hit him ! Joe. Don’t like to make* a widder woman of him too quick. Warren. You are afraid ; you dasn’t. Joe. (Business.) You think Ise afraid, do ye; guess not much, honey. [Exits R. after Henry.] Come, massa Henry, let’s be getting out of here ; the Rebs will be after us. Henry. Quick ! Quick ! There is another sentinel a the other end of the guard house. Back, if you value your lives, back ! I stand here a free man with arms about me, and will fight my way clear or die. The first to come shall be the first to fall. [Close with front drop.] 28 A C T I V. Scene I. [Landscape. Rebel prison discovered.] Freddie. Henry, can’t you get me some bread? I am so hungry. Henry. No, Freddie ; I gave you all I had this morn¬ ing, but it is most time for our rations. True, it is a little they give us, and poor at that, but if we can only hold out a little longer we shall be exchanged, I know we shall. Freddie. But there is small hope and little faith. Henry. But let us still hope on and have faith in Him. William Tucker. Henry, I am dying, starving. I have tried to hold out, hoping they would exchange us, but I al¬ ready feel the fingers of Death clutching my throat, and 1 know that I cannot stay with you but a few hours longer. When you see Nellie, give her this. Tell her that I died that my country might live. Good-bye, Henry ; good-bye, comrades ; God bless you all. . Henry. My country, on thine altar I lay another offering for liberty. His poor wife and mother’s heart will break when they know he is dead. Oh, why do they leave us here to starve? Why do they not exchange us and put us in the field again, with a good sword in our grasp, and there let us die fighting like men? But to be penned up here and starve, it is indeed terrible ! Sentinel. Say, Bill, there is another dead Yank inside. [Enter two Rebs. R. 2d E. with stretcher, and exit same as entering.] Henry. Comrades, I can hold out but little longer if such scenes as these are repeated. It makes my very blood boil to see with what fiendish cruelty our poor dead com¬ rades are treated. Oh, my brain is almost crazed by the many scenes I have witnessed like these. 29 Freddie. Henry, I am almost choked for the want of some water. I have .almost a good mind to go over the dead line and get some. Henry. No, no, Freddie, not for the world ; ’twas only yesterday they shot poor Tom for doing so. Freddie. We might as well get shot and end it as stay here and starve. [Enters Armstrong, li. 2d E,] Armstrong. Here, you ragamuffins, how do you like the looks of that, made out of good corn meal and water? That’s what makes you all so fat. (Prisoners all ask for bread.) Back, and wait till I get ready to give it to you. Henry. You’re a brave man to taunt men as helpless as you know us to he. Is there not one spark of pity left in your fiendish soul? Armstrong. Pity in my soul! No, not for you and your Yankee trash. Do you suppose I would have left my com¬ mand in the field had I not read your name in the official list? No, no; you have escaped me once, hut you cannot escape me now. Inch by inch I’ll have your very life and that brat you have got with you. I will starve you till your bones protrude through your flesh. You do not look much like the gay Henry Waldron you used to be. The fair maids of Pleasantville woidd hardly know you now. Henry. Your jeering taunts and cruel threats fall upon my ear without effect. 1 forgive you and pray that heaven may. [Armstrong shoots Freddie.] Armstrong. Take that, you Yankee brat. I’ll learn you to disobey the rules of the prison. Henry. Speak to me, Freddie. Have you not one word to send to poor mother? How cold his little hands have 30 grown that have so often nestled in my own. Can I not warm them back to life? Poor boy ! ’twas cruel to kill him thus when his troubles were almost over. Armstrong. And now let the rest of you take warning from him. And as for you, did not I enjoy your torture more than I should your death. I’d send you after him. Henry. You are a brave man, ain’t you? Yout. can kill boys unarmed, but as I have done before, I now defy you again. If you have one spark of that courage of which you boast, show it. There is my heart; fire if you dare. You haven’t got the nerve to do it. Armstrong. Oh, no; I have something better in store for you. I intended at some future time to put you to the tor¬ ture, but since you have defied me, I will go and prepare it for you now, and we will see if a loyal soldier won’t shrink from death. [Exit, R. 2d E. Henry. Comrades, hear me. A few moments ago I for¬ gave that man, and I prayed in my inmost soul that heaven might forgive him, too. But here, kneeling beside my dead brother, I swear never to know the balmy powers of sleep, never to assuage the pains of hunger, never to have but one thought, one desire, and that shall be, vengeance on the assassin of my brother! Oh, my boy; my poor boy; it was cruel to kill you thus, when your troubles were almost over. But we shall meet you soon in that land ever vernal, where there will be no more partings. (Papers thrown in.) Sergeant Moore. Henry, come and see the paper the boys have got. We have just had one thrown in. Henry. Hush ! Save some of your bread for Freddie. He. is asleep now, but when he wakes up he will be sore hungry. 31 Moore. Poor fellow, he has gone crazy. Henry. Be quiet and do not make so much noise; you will disturb him. I want him to have all the rest he can, for when he wakes up we are going home from this horrible place. I dreamt so last night; and when Freddie wakes I will tell him my dream. I’ll tell you, comrades, now. I dreamed that this cruel war was over, and that we were all at home once more. I saw my wife and mother standing in the doorway waiting for Freddie and I, and I heard the mower’s song in the field, and I saw the children happily at play beneath the old oak tree, and the village bells rang out merrily, and we were all so joyous. But it was only a dream, a cruel dream. Hark ! can you not hear a noise in the distance? See, comrades, see! 'there is our old flag come again ! Now charge they the enemies’ lines. Sec ! they are driven back with great loss ! Now they charge again. They are opposed. The enemies’ lines are broken. The day is ours, and the old flag waves triumphant! See, now, on they come ; now listen to the steady tramp of the Northern army ! I told you they would come. Our prayers are answered ; we are saved ! we are saved ! [Enter Union Soldiers right on the stockade. Capt. Hall comes down into prison ; has a sword combat with Arm¬ strong ; Armstrong runs him through ; Hall falls.] Henry. Hold, men ! Do not fire ; he is mine. James Armstrong, you have murdered my brother, and here a no¬ ble officer lies fallen by your hands. I have sworn to be revenged, and your time has come ! See, comrades, see ! my oath of vengeance has been fulfilled! Behold the Rebel’s doom ! [Close with front drop.] 32 ACT V . Scene I. ' [Landscape. Villages discovered. Enter Union Soldiers.] Judge. Veterans, it is both a pleasant and painful duty to greet you on your return from the scenes of battle to the peaceful and quiet avocations of a citizen’s life. In behalf of the republic of whose call you went forth, whose gov¬ ernment you have maintained, and whose very existence you have preserved, I bid you welcome, for your friends and your families in whose behalf you have fonglit that you might continue to them and transmit to posteriiy the bless¬ ings of a free republic, welcome, thrice welcome, to your happy homes. But many who witness your return bear aching hearts. They see your ranks thinned by the cas¬ ualties of war ; they look in vain for the manly form who went forth with you, but will never more return to them. In this hour of joy and welcome let us cherish the memory of the fallen, and sympathize with those who mourn. You have deserved well of your country, you have preserved it from the mad ambition of traitors, and long may you live to enjoy its posterity, and longer still than that, let us have peace. Henry. In behalf of the brave men under my command, permit me to thank you for this your kind reception. When we departed from here four years ago, you presented us with that flag, aud bade us, if need be, defend it with out¬ lives. We have done so, and since that day, wherever it has been, ii has beeu our proudest duty to follow it. We bear it back to you faded and worn, but you that have fol_ lowed the fortunes of the Mass. Regiment, know that whatever duty was assigned them was most faithfully per¬ formed. Permit me again to thank you for your kind wel- 33 come, with a hope that we may never be called upon again to defend it from traitor’s hands, but that a long and lasting peace may ever be ours. [Dark Stage. Tableau of Peace.] [Exit Soldiers L. Close with kitchen scene.] Scene II. [Kitchen. Enter Sally, Warren, Tim and Joe. L. 1st E.] Sully. Say, William, don’t you believe them ’ere Wal- drons have gone and killed the fatted calf, and it is the lookingest calf I ever saw. I’d a good deal rather have a piece of gingerbread, hadn’t you, William? Warren. Yes, I had ; but dou’t eat it all up ; perhaps Tim and Joe might want a piece. Sally. Oh, of course they dew. Here Joe, here Tim. Tim. Thank ye, marm ; it is a gintleman ye are, sure, and may ye be happy all the days of your life. But I must go and see Biddy, so good-bye to ye all. [Exit R. Joe. Say, massa Warren, do you know 'where any tur¬ keys roost around here? I should like to get hold of one just for old times’ sake. Warren. That won’t do now, Joe, we are at home ; but you come around here to-morrow, and we will have one all cooked up nice. Sally knows how to cook ’em, don’t you? Sally. I reckon I dew. But look here, William; the folks are all out on the common having a jubilee. Let us go out and jine ’em, and let ’em know that William Warren and Sally Green that used to be have been joined in the holy bonds of matrimony. Warren. Come along, let’s go; just our darned luck. Come Joe, you come too. Joe. Yes, I’se going, ’cause you is going to have a turkey. [All exit, L. 34 Scene III. [Parlor. Judge Waldron and wife discov¬ ered. Enter Henry, R. 2d E.] Judge. Welcome home, my boy; you have served your country well and faithful. Henry . I have done my duty, father, and I am satisfied. Mother, I am glad to find you looking so well. (Enter Belle, R. 3d E.) Belle, my dear Belle. Belle. Henry, this is indeed a happy hour ; and as you said at parting, the dark cloud has been removed from our land, and the bright sunshine has come again. Henry. Yes, Belle, this is indeed a happy hour to us, but there are many whose hearts are sad to-day, for many of our bravest boys sleep in unkuown graves, where south¬ ern flowers bloom bright. Mother, our circle has Been broken. The sight of that drum brings his memory fresh before me. Mrs. Waldron. And my heart is full to overflowing. How well I remember when he laid his head on my lap, and I cut from it a silken curl; and how proud'he was of his drum ; and how eager he was to go. I shall always think of him when 1 see that drum and that vacant chair. Henry. Yes, all over our land mothers will miss their children, wives their husbands, and sisters their brothers; but let us so live that we shall meet him there. [Dark Stage. Tableau—Freddie at rest. Close with front drop.] PHOTOMOUNT PAMPHLET BINDER PAT. NO. 877100 Manufactured by GAYLORD BROS. Inc. Syracuse, N. Y. Stockton, Calif.