saved. The severity of his own wound, and the length of time which
elapsed before any attention was paid to it, brought on a severe
fever, and on the escape of General Floyd, he was delirious and unable
to accompany him. He was, therefore, sent to Chicago, and placed in
the same hospital with the lieutenant whose life he had saved.

On their recovery, which was about the same time, Lieutenant
Shackleford--for it was he--and Alfred Wentworth were both sent to
"Camp Douglas," the military prison near Chicago.

On the receipt of the news in New Orleans, that Fort Donelson and
nearly its entire garrison had surrendered, Mrs. Wentworth underwent
another long suspense of excitement and anxiety, which was, however,
partially allayed by the intelligence that General Floyd and staff had
escaped. But as the weeks rolled on, and she received no letter from
her husband, the old fear that he may have been killed came over her
again, until relieved by seeing his name as being among the wounded at
the Chicago hospital in one of the city papers.

In mentioning these hours of grief and suspense on the part of Mrs.
Wentworth, it must not be understood that we are representing a
weak-minded and cowardly woman. On the contrary, Mrs. Wentworth would
have rather heard that her husband was killed than one word spoken
derogatory to his courage, and would never have consented to his
remaining at home, while so many of his countrymen were hurrying to
protect their country from invasion. Her suspense and grief at the
intelligence of a battle in which her husband was engaged, were only
the natural feeling of an affectionate wife. At that moment she was no
longer the patriot daughter of the South; she was the wife and mother,
and none should blame her for her anxiety to know the fate of one so