WHO GOES THERE? THE STORY OF A SPY IN THE CIVIL WAR BY B.K. BENSON 1900 CONTENTS INTRODUCTION. I. THE ADVANCE. II. A SHAMEFUL DAY. III. I BREAK MY MUSKET. IV. A PERSONAGE. V. WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP. VI. THE USES OF INFIRMITY. VII. A SECOND DISASTER. VIII. THE TWO SOUTHS. IX. KILLING TIME. X. THE LINE OF THE WARWICK. XI. FORT WILLIS. XII. MORE ACTIVE SERVICE. XIII. JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE. XIV. OUT OF SORTS. XV. WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT. XVI. BETWEEN THE LINES. XVII. THE LINES OF HANOVER. XVIII. THE BATTLE OF HANOVER. XIX. THE ACCURSED NIGHT. XX. THE MASK OF IGNORANCE. XXI. ONE MORE CONFEDERATE. XXII. COMPANY H. XXIII. A LESSON IN HISTORY. XXIV. BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE. XXV. IN THE GREAT BATTLE. XXVI. A BROKEN MUSKET. XXVII. CAPTAIN HASKELL. XXVIII. BEYOND THE POTOMAC. XXIX. FOREBODINGS. XXX. TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS. XXXI. GLOOM. XXXII. NIGHT. XXXIII. HELL. XXXIV. FALLING WATERS. XXXV. AWAKENINGS. XXXVI. THE ALPHABET. XXXVII. A DOUBLE. XXXVIII. IDENTITY. XXXIX. REPARATION. XL. CONCLUSION. MAPS 1. WHERE BERWICK BROKE HIS MUSKET. 2. HANOVER COURT-HOUSE. 3. VIRGINIA. 4. WHERE JONES FOUND A BROKEN MUSKET. INTRODUCTION "I'll note you in my book of memory."--SHAKESPEARE. From early childhood I had been subject to a peculiar malady. I say malady for want of a better and truer word, for my condition had never been one of physical or mental suffering. According to my father's opinion, an attack of brain fever had caused me, when five years old, to lose my memory for a time--not indeed my memory entirely, but my ability to recall the events and the mental impressions of a recent period. The physicians had agreed that the trouble would pass away, but it had been repeated more than once. At the age of ten, when occurred the first attack which I remember, I was at school in my native New England village. One very cold day I was running home after school, when my foot slipped on a frozen pool. My head struck the ice, but I felt no great pain, and was almost at once on my feet. I was bewildered with what I saw around me. Seemingly I had just risen from my seat at the breakfast table to find myself in the open air, in solitude, in clothing too heavy, with hands and feet too large, and with a July world suddenly changed to midwinter. As it happened, my father was near, and took me home. When the physicians came, they asked me many questions which I could not understand.