The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1878-07-13

whole place was instantly in uproar.
The officers in the house sprang from
I bed, and hastily dressed and armed.
The family, rudely awakened, rushed
to the windows. A cold rain was fall
ing, and the soldiers, half-clad, were
running wildly hither and thither, while
the officers were franticallly calling
them to arms. Mary woke at the first
terrible roar and fled to her mothers
room. The excitable negro servants
uttered most piercing shrieks The
poor little children were too frightened
to scream, but chung, trembling, to
Mary.
Mrs. Gibbes was in great distress
She knew not, at first, whether it was
an attack by friends on the camp, or an
assault on the house by the enemy
She ordered the servants to cease their
wailing and dress themselves. Then
her husband and the children were pre-
pared; and, while the cannon beloved
in quick succession and noise around
the house grew louder, the father and
mother consulted what was best to do.
1t was now evident that the attack was
by their own friends, and its object was
to dislodge the enemj. But Mr.. Gibbes
did not know that the house would not
be fired on, and he advised instant
flight. He was carried to a chair, and
the whole household sailed forth from
a back door.
The scene was terrific. The night
was pitchy dark, and when, Just as they
stepped out, a sheet of flame belched
forth from the vessels, it seemed to be
almost against their faces The roar
shook the ground. The troops were too
busy saving themselves to notice the
fugitives, and they pushed on as rapid
ly as possible.
No one was sufficiently protected
from the rain. Little Mary had the
hardest part, for nearly all the children
were in her care. The mud was deep.
Some of the little ones could walk but a
short distance at time, and had to be
carried-Mary having always one, some
times two, in her arms. Several of the
servants We're near her, but none of
them seemed to notice her or her bur
dens. The last horse had been carried
off that very day; there was no escape
but on foot.
Suddenly a ball came crashing by
them through the trees! Then charge
of grape-shot cut the bOughs overhead.
They were exactly in the range of the
guns! 1t was evident they had taken
the worst direction, but there was no
help for it now-it was too late to turn
back. In her agony, the mother cried
aloud on God to protect her family.
Mary Rugged closer the child in her
arms, and trembed so she could hardly
keep up. Another crash! The shot
shrieked past them, striking the trees
in every direction. The assault was
fierce, the roar was incessant. The
Heightened family rushed on as swiftly
as possible toward friend plantation,
far back from the shore; but it was soon
seen that they would not have strength
to reach it, even if they were not struck
down by the flying shot. The Ameri-
cans were pouring their fire into these
woods, thinking the enemy would seek
refuge there. The wretched fugitives
expected every moment to be the last.
On they pushed through mud and rain
and screaming shot.
Soon they found they were getting
more out of the range of the guns.
They began to hope; yet now and then
ball tore up the trees around them, or
rolled fearfully across their path. They
reached one of the houses where their
field-hands lived, with no one hurt;
they were over mile from the man
sion, and out of range. The negroes
said no shot had come that way. Una
BILE to flee further, the family deter
mined to stop here. AS soon as they
entered, Mrs. Gibbes felt her strength
leaving her, and sank upon low bed.
Chilled to the bone, drenched, tremb-
ling with terror and exhaustion, the
family gathered around her. She
opened her eyes and looked about. She
sprang up wildly.
go Maryw she cried, "where is
John?"
The little girl turned pale and
moaned: 80 mother! mother! he's
Iettr' She broke into crying. The
negroes, quickly sympathetic, began to
wiring their hands and wall.
"Silencen' said Mr.. Gibbes, with
stern but trembling voice. The tears
were in his own eyes. The little child
now missing was very dear to them all,
and, moreover, was deemed a sacred
charge, as he was one of the orphan
children of Mr.. Gibbes' sister, intrusted
to him on her death-bed
The wailing ceased; there was 81
lence, broken only by sobs, and the
master asked
'Who is willing to 60 back for the
child?"
No one spoke. Mr.. Gibbes turned to
his wife for counsel. AS the two talked
in low tones, Mrs. Gibbes called her
husbands attention to Mary, who was
kneeling with clasped hands, in prayer,
at the foot of the bed. In moment
the little maid rose and came to them,
saying, calmly:
"Mother, l must go back after baby"
80 nay child" cried the mother, in
agony, 81 cannot let your
"But, mother, l must" pleaded
Mary. "God will care for me-"
1t was fearful responsibility. The
guns yet roared constantly through the
darkness; the house might now be in
flames; it might be filled with carnage
and blood. Mrs. Gibbes turned to her
husband. His face was buried in his
hands. Plainly, she must decide it her