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[508] officer of the navy, whom it was affirmed she married. He also found his way to the prison, from which he dictated a challenge to the editor of the Washington Star, for some rather scornful allusions to himself and wife. They were both “light weights” in the profession.

Mrs. Baxley was a woman of far different character-educated, remarkably intelligent and cultivated, and with a steady courage any man might envy. She was a shrewd plotter of mischief to the North, and utterly fearless in its execution. Her intense hatred of a Yankee, with her whole-souled devotion to the Southern cause, often impelled her beyond the line of propriety and discretion, even to the verge of the ridiculous-never, however, to the peril of the cause she loved. The first time my attention was called to her case was by a note handed me by one of the guards, directed to the colonel commanding the prisoners, asking me to bring her an armful of wood! Of course, it meant defiance and insult, but provoked only a smile; and the next “break out” of her irrepressible hatred to Yankeedom had a tinge of tragedy rather than comedy. It was thus: Going once to the window of her room (which was located on the second-story of the building), she began a scathing and contemptuous criticism of the sentinel underneath, until, goaded by her tongue, he threatened to fire at her if she did not desist and leave the window. “Fire, then, you Yankee scoundrel! You were hired to murder women, and here is an opportunity to exercise your trade,” was the reply. Stung by the words, and thinking to frighten her, he raised his piece, but aimed above her head, and fired, the ball crashing through the window over her. Not a muscle stirred as she still coolly faced the window as before, saying, contemptuously: “A shot worthy a Yankee; load and try another.” She was arrested while within our army lines searching for her son, who had been wounded and captured in one of the great battles. He was sent to the prison where his mother was, and she had the privilege of seeing him often and of standing by his bedside when he died. He was buried from the prison and lies in the Congressional Cemetery, his mother being allowed to accompany his remains to their last resting place. She was accompanied to the cemetery in the same carriage by Mrs. Surratt (who was afterward hanged for complicity with President Lincoln's assassination), and a couple of guards detailed for the purpose. Mrs. Surratt was a large fleshy woman, and when first sent to the prison was not supposed to be guilty of anything very serious, or that could involve a risk to her life. Her daughter was her frequent visitor, and always was permitted to see her. At her trial she was

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