It was the 17th of August, if I mistake not, that Colonel Johnson drew the little remnant of heroes up in line for the last time, and after a few appropriate and touching remarks, read the order disbanding them. Not a man but felt his humiliation, for even as the order was being read the troops of Longstreet were filing by on their way to new fields of glory and of conquest. “Come on, Marylanders, we can’t get along without you!” they exclaimed in their ignorance of what was then transpiring, and not dreaming that they had seen us on the field as a body for the last time. And then when the little State flag presented us before the first Manassas by the ladies of Maryland, and which we loved so well, was furled never again to flaunt defiantly in the face of the foe, a look of affection beamed upon it from every eye in the command, and strong men, unable to control their emotions, turned sadly away. Never had it seemed so dear to us before, and although now all tattered and torn it looked more beautiful than when it came from the fair fingers that worked it. To the donors we then pledged ourselves to defend it with our heart’s best blood, and that promise had been sacredly kept. Brave hearts and strong arms had carried it through the blood and carnage of many an ensanguined field, and where the fight raged thickest there it was ever to be found. Heroic men had fallen beneath its folds, and as the eye grew dim they sought a last glance at the colors they had loved so well in health and strength, but which seemed still dearer to them in death. Farewell, dear little emblem of woman’s devotion; upon thy folds rests no dishonor. There, fold it gently, for it is precious, and will ever serve to remind us of the First Maryland Regiment of Infantry, C. S. A. [Illustration: Lt. Col. JAMES R. HERBERT.] THE SECOND MARYLAND INFANTRY. CHAPTER I. It was towards the close of October, 1862, that the author made his way to Richmond, scarcely convalescent from severe injuries received in the second battle of Manassas. I reached that city in anything but a comfortable frame of mind, for I was out of the army owing to the disbanding of the First Maryland, and my finances had run down to the last five dollars. However, hoping something would turn up, I registered my name at the Linwood, and determined to quietly await the course of events. The city was filled with officers in gay uniforms, some just from the front, some who had never been there, and never intended to go, others convalescing from sickness or wounds, &c., &c. Altogether Richmond presented a gay scene, and I thought I could spend a few days there as pleasantly as elsewhere. But I had no alternative, for it was out of the question for me to yet think of carrying a musket in the field.