The crowning act of disloyalty, and one which threatened the most serious consequences to the government, was committed about midnight of the same day. A secret order was issued by the mayor and police officers to burn the nearest bridges on the railroads leading into Baltimore from the free States, and parties, under the command of the police authorities were dispatched to execute the order.
Before daylight the following morning, the bridges at Melvale, Relay House and Cockeysville, on the Harrisburg road and over the Bush and Gunpowder rivers and Harris Creek, were completely destroyed by fire, thus effectually severing railroad communication with the North. The telegraph wires leading to and from the capital were also cut, completely shutting off Washington, and the government from the loyal Northern States. These acts, committed by the orders of the very men who that morning had risked their lives in defending the soldiers of the Union, are sufficient to show the rapid and overmastering influence of revolutionary madness.
Of course, the news of these outrages spread far and wide over the country, and while they aroused universal indignation, they nevertheless were the occasion of grave fears for the safety of the capital.
It was on the 21st of April, two days after the occurrence of these events that my services were required. Several gentlemen of prominence in Chicago, intimate friends of President Lincoln, and men of influence and intelligence in the State, desired to communicate with the President upon questions connected with the existing condition of affairs, and applied to me for the purpose of having letters and dispatches conveyed directly to Washington by the hands of a trusty messenger.
I at once accepted the duty, and selected a man for its performance. Experience proved that I was not mistaken in my selection, and as the messenger chosen for this duty is to bear an important part in the event, which I am about to relate, a description of him will at once acquaint the reader with his personal appearance.
He was a tall, broad-shouldered, good-looking man of about forty years of age. In height he was about five feet ten inches; his brown hair, which was brushed carelessly back from a broad, high forehead, surmounted a face of a character to at once attract attention.