Then, with a slap on the shoulder, he hauled me to one side, and whispered: "We have got it all fixed for our big bounty, and we want your papers right away."
I was cornered. I must go along or get out of town. There could be no possible excuse for further putting off this step.
I asked only the one question--"Where do we go?"
Being further assured that this battery was to be at once sent to the front, I agreed to go along with him--_to get the money_. We found Elkton in our room, attending to the papers of some of the other recruits, and, at a favorable opportunity, I, with a trembling hand and a doubting heart, signed my assumed name to the papers, and by that act became a _Rebel soldier_. There was one great relief to my mind while performing this necessary act. It was distinctly understood that I was to be made the Corporal, and, as such, it would be my duty to sight and fire the gun of our section. I determined that if the occasion should arise before I could get away from them, when it would become my duty as a Rebel soldier to sight that gun, that it should _never be pointed in a way to do any damage_.
My object was to use this scheme as a disguise to again get to the front at Manassas, and find out what had been done _there_. I could not learn anything at Richmond, and once more in the Rebel Army at Manassas, disguised in a gray uniform, I would find some way to anticipate any forward movements. I would also be "handy" to our army, and be able to reach our pickets quickly.
If I were caught going over to the enemy, with a Rebel jacket on, I'd be shot as a deserter; but I had the consolation of knowing that, if I were caught in any other clothes, I should be hung anyhow. While this was not a very comforting thought, I knew it was true.
I did not care much for the money that was to be paid to me; and authorized Elkton to settle my bills at the hotel and to retain the balance for me. He furnished the Colonel and me some spending money, and together we went out to "make a night of it" in Richmond.
The Colonel and I went first to a theatre, located on the street on which stood the Exchange and Ballard Hotel.
One of the players sang with dramatic effect some words suitable to the time and people, which was adapted to the French air of "La Marseillaise." He waved in one hand a French flag and in the other the Confederate _bars_. At a certain point in the song, the fellow threw to the floor and stamped upon--old glory--the Stars and Stripes. The wild cheers of approval and howls of applause from the large audience that went up at this dastardly exhibition of American treachery sent the cold chills down my marrow bone. I wondered then, and have never ceased to wonder, at the frequent exhibitions of contempt and dishonor for their old flag that were so freely and heartily indulged in by the Southern people during the war.